A familiar and some unfamiliar faces

Barbara found herself in the kitchen. There were several very attractive women in various states of undress. They seemed to be having a good time. A black girl had her hands on the ass cheeks of a redhead and was having fun jiggling them up and down. Both were giggling. There were a few men here and there keeping an eye on the girls. She recognized one of them. Peter was a friend of Nathan's. Pete was just a big guy. 6'6 at least, and as wide as a refrigerator. He had a petite little brunette supermodel, lifting her with one arm. She was mostly perched on his broad shoulders, curled around him and licking his ear. The brunette was wearing a short little flimsy pink skirt, and Barbara could tell she didn't have anything beneath it.

She and Nathan had had more than one dinner with Pete and his wife Renee. She was short and rotund, with lifeless hair and dull brown eyes. When Peter saw Barbara, he seemed to recognize her, which was good because Barbara wasn't quite sure she would recognize herself. Everything felt so distant and far away. She knew that she should be angry at seeing Peter manhandle a woman like that who wasn't his wife, for at least three different reasons. But it felt like it was happening in some far-away cotton candy world, and didn't have any relation to her; she wasn't mad.

Peter set the girl down, who was still giggling. She grabbed the glass of wine from the counter and looked around. When she spotted Barbara, she let loose another set of giggles. "Baaaarbara!" she squealed, and Barbara realized that that was Renee's voice. "I'm so glad you're here!"

"What's going on here?" Barbara said after a second, realizing that Renee was talking to her.

"Oh, golly, did you drink the champagne?" Renee said with a note of concern in her voice, "I'm afraid that it makes everyone who drinks it very very suggestible. You can't disagree with me, can you?"

After a moment of open-mouthed wondering, Barbara was able to get out a "Why would I want to?"

"Yeah, that's just great. Here's what going on here. The men, they're turning all of us ladies into brainless sex slaves. Just airheaded bimbos for them to look at and play with. You like that, don't you?" This new Renee put her hand on Barbara's chin, and started to nod her head for her.

Barbara moaned out something. It may have been a yes. "Yes, you do like that, you little slut. You want the men to stare at you. Use your holes."

"...why...you...help?" Barbara was able to **** her tongue to say.

"Oh, why I am helping? Peter said the more girls I help turn into pretty little dolls, the more brains he'll let me keep. I'll still be able to be a real estate agent, and you'll just be a dumb set of holes." That didn't sound quite right to Barbara, but she was hardly in a position to argue with her.

Barbara didn't realize that Renee had her left hand snaked up Barbara's dress until she felt the hand pull down her panties. "Oh, did Barbie get her panties all wet? Did the champagne bubbles turn you into a little slut? Yeah?" Nothing felt real for Barbara but Renee's lips were only a few millimeters from her ears. She latched onto her voice, and nodded her assent.

"You want me to play with your little pussy, don't you, Barbie?" She could feel Renee's probing fingers. Her knees shook as Renee's thumb lightly teased her clit. "You don't care if you become a dumb slut, you want me to make you a dumb slut, don't you?" It had been a while since Barbara had pleasured herself; it had been even longer that Nathan really paid attention to her needs. This felt really good. Barbara nodded, not wanting Renee to stop.

"Say it, say you want to be a dumb slut," Renee said, with more than a little hint of malicious glee in her voice.

"What--" Barbara exhaled, not wanting to debase herself, "Please, don't stop."

Renee's hand dropped away, just a few inches, and Barbara whined. "See, this is the problem. We've spent maybe six hours? No, maybe eight or nine hours together? And you know what I thought after that? I thought you were a stuck-up cunt, Barbara. You thought you were better than me, didn't you?"

Barbara couldn't help but say yes, as she tried to desperately rub herself against Renee's hand.

"Say it, Barbara, say you want to be a dumb slut," Renee said, her hand very gently rubbing against Barbara's pussy.

Bararbara felt conflicted. It felt very good, but there was a pit in her stomach. "Peter, she's so close. Be a dear, and grab that bottle of champagne." Renee's linebacker of a husband smiled, and approached with an open bottle. Renee's other hand lowered Barbara's jaw, and then pulled her hair so that she was staring up at the ceiling. Peter poured the champagne directly down her throat. Some of it poured out of her mouth, down her dress, but she swallowed most of it out reflex. Everything seemed to get even more distant. Like it wasn't even happening to her.

"Say you want to be a dumb slut," Renee hissed into Barbara's ear, her left hand doing marvelous things beneath her dress.

Barbara's head lolled on her shoulders, "I wanna be a dumb slut," she murmured.

"A pretty doll,"

"a pretty doll..."

"Just a set of holes,"

"Jussht a set of holesss..."

Renee's hand started to fly, rubbing her with more vigor. She rocked her hips back and forth, a brainless grin on her face.

Then Renee stopped. Barbie's eyes flew open when she realized. "Okay, I believe that you want to be a dumb slut... Prove to me that you can be a dumb slut."

"Whaaaa?"

"Peter's got a magic alien ray gun; its how I got so pretty. Convince him to use it on you."