"Bimbo Big Boobs"

"I'm here, so let's go all the way", you say. "Give me the best you have. The biggest you have. That's... this one here, right?" You hand him the paper stating "Big Bimbo Boobs", which, frankly, sounds like a very stupid arrangement of words. The sort of combination that only so called marketing experts can come up with.

The doctor raises an eyebrow, then smiles, nods and hands you a bunch of papers.

"Sign here... and here... and here", he says, and you cast a glance at the papers and then quickly sign your name. You are far too tired to read that. It's obviously the usual lectures and side-effects and personal risks and what not... It's just about BOOBS, but the regulations in this country make it seem as if you are about to join a difficult transplant or something. It's not the first time that you feel annoyed about over-regulation and the whole culture of warnings and special instructions.

The doctor gathers the papers and calls for a nurse to guide you into the operating room. He whispers her a few instructions, and the nurse also seems to gasp in surprise. Maybe there aren't that many women after all who are going all in for the biggest size. You shrug. Even one reason more to do it. Dave will love you for this.

You are, obviously, asked to strip and to lie down on operating table. A bright light shines on your face, which makes you strangely calm and relaxed. Some people enter the room, while you stare happily at the light, a smile on your face. You know it was the right decision to get this boob enhancement. Then the nurse informs you that she will give you a quick injection - and darkness engulfs you.

You wake up, lying in a bed.

You blink and slowly try to rise. There is no pain, no ache, no discomfort in your body, which is a stunning revelation. There is, however, the constant humming of arousal. You feel it immediatly, and you also immediatly know what it is. It feels good. It feels natural. It also feels a tiny bit annoying, because, frankly, you are horny enough to fuck a doorknob. Or - just literally anything.

You look down on yourself and a surprised gasp escapes your mouth.

Your boobs are... huge! They are maybe the biggest things you've ever seen, and "melons" doesn't even start to describe it. Yet, they look perfectly on your body, not fake at all, or - well, maybe a bit fake, but in a good way. They prove that you know what it's all about to be a woman. Boobs. Tits. You can be proud of your tits. You press your right index finger on one of your nipples, and the most stunning, exhilirating sensation surges through your body. You hear yourself moaning. These nipples are sensitive like hell! All of a sudden, you become aware of how your left hand has moved between your legs to finger yourself. You just can't help it, the constant throbbing sensation of arousal, multiplied tenfold by your own touch of your nipple is too strong.

When finally the doctor enters your room, you have just finished your second orgasm and are about to start fingering yourself to a third. Your hands are sticky with your own juices, and your juices are also spread around your whole body, as your hands are constantly touching and massaging yourself, especially your big jugs and those hyper sensitive nipples. You smile at the man walking in, a happy grin on your face. Finally somebody with a cock!

"Hey Doc!", you greet him. "Wanna fuck?"

There is a tiny and very, very soft voice somewhere buried deep inside your head telling you that this is not how you would have talked to the doctor normally. Or rather... before. Although you don't know exactly what that "before" was or why it should matter to you at all. After all, bimbos don't think. Bimbos are too stupid to think, and you know for certain that you are one. Your body tells you. The same body which is screaming at you that getting cock is muuuuch better than fingering yourself.

You slide down from your bed, your jugs bouncing, and get on your knees right in front of the doctor, before the man had even time to react to your question. Then again, he does not seem surprised at all and just nods approvingly. He knows that you are a bimbo, obviously. Of course he knows, and you it makes you swell with pride that people immediatly know who and what you are. That's how it should be.

You open his zipper and start sucking him, happily. It only takes a few minutes to empty his balls. You slurp and swallow and eagerly gulp down all his cum and lick him clean, thoroughly. It is very important to be thorough, you think. "Anything else, Doc?", you ask him smiling, as he closes the zipper and again nods thoughtfully, as if something has turned out exactly to his expectations.

"Wait here!", he orders you. "Stay exactly as you are", he then adds, and you are happy to oblige. Being told by a man what to do is exactly what you want. It makes life much easier, and, of course, bimbos are too stupid to decide themselves. After a few minutes, a second doctor comes in, opening his pants while walking through the door. You suck him just as eager as you did the first, although it is a pity that nobody seems in a mood to fuck you. The third one asks you to cum on your face, which you are just as happy to oblige as swallowing the other two. After the third one, you lose count, because... well, it is really difficult to count past three, right? What is there bigger than three that is important, anyway? A man has two balls, a woman has two titties, a good bimbo has three holes... After sucking off a few more doctors, somebody finally decides that he wants to fuck your pussy, and asks you to turn around and place your tits on the bed. They are still extremely sensitive, your gorgeous titties, which makes getting fucked even more fun. You cum... well, more than three times. Who needs to count past three?

At the end of the day, as you kneel in front of the bed again, covered in cum and juices and still the happy smile on your face, the very first doctor comes into the room again.

"Thank you, nurse Bigtits", he says. As there is nobody else in the room, he must be talking with you. You were already wondering briefly who exactly you are. Not that this is actually a burning question, as long as you are sure about what you are. Which you are very, very sure about: You are a slut. A fuck toy. A happy bimbo girl. And, apparently, you are also a nurse called Bigtits. Which is a beautiful name.

"We expect you tomorrow on duty again, nurse Bigtits", the doctor says, and you nod, happily. "Yes sir", you reply and rise. "Can I wash myself now and make myself pretty?"

"You look very pretty with all that cum in your hair and your face, nurse", the doctor reprimands you, only to add: "But yes, go shower and put on some make up. I expect you at the exit in half an hour." Half an hour is, of course, not nearly enough to put on make up, but men seem to know nothing about the duty of getting pretty. Of course, with your body still burning from desire and lust, despite your... whatever number it was... orgasms today, putting on make up might take twice as long anyway, because you'd probably finger yourself constantly.

"Why in half an hour?", you ask.

"Because I'll be leaving in half an hour, and I expect you to come home with me. I need to empty my balls again, so I need a good fuck toy to help me with that. Get ready for a rough and long night, nurse Bigtits. I plan to bang you many, many times, in various positions."

You felt happy before but that's the moment your face starts beaming. You are a happy bimbo nurse, and you will be very happy for months to come. It's good to know what you are, and it's even better that the tiny voice from earlier has stopped nagging. You know your name and you know your place. And you will get a good pounding for the rest of the night.

What else could you wish for?