Allison, a CIA agent gathering finances for a clandestine operation

After the success of Tim’s participation in Who Wanna Be a Bimbo the CIA wanted to repeat the operation. This time with a different agent and different objectives. Allison was twenty eight years old, highly educated and exceptionally intelligent. She was not a field operative though, but an analyst. She had a photographic memory and because of it was chosen to participate in the quiz. Unlike Tim, her role would be to NOT become transformed and win as much money as possible. Of course CIA had its federal financing, but some international meddling had to be performed outside of the official budget and the agency had to devise its own methods of financing.

Allison was relatively pretty, but her face was rather plain and she had never found an effective way to fix it with makeup. She was 170 centimetres tall, slender and fit; in a healthy body, healthy mind, she always said. But no amount of exercise would make her boyish hips grow wider or her small breasts larger. These features caused her to not be overly successful with the opposite sex; limited confidence and poor communication skills did not make such contacts any easier. Allison prepared for the quiz thoroughly; she knew her goal and was aware of the risk. Watching past episodes of Who Wanna Be a Bimbo was also a part of her research and she had learned about the possibilities as well. Just like a few of the previous participants she felt tempted to make several deliberate mistakes and hope for lucky transformations. She had serious doubts about such an approach though. Allison was a dutiful agent who wanted to please her superiors and continue on her current career path. She was also fearful of the possible personal consequences, if she was to be unlucky with transformations. She went to the show thoroughly prepared, but also uncomfortably uncertain.

Before the show the agent had been merely uncomfortable. Now, while entering the stage, she realised that the training had not prepared her for one thing - stage fright. She was a brilliant analyst, but had never performed publicly. Her complete lack of skills in that regard was a serious oversight on the part of her superiors. Allison was wearing a smart suit which made her look feminine and elegant, but her looks did not improve her confidence greatly. The skirt was knee long, but tight and thus gave away her lack of curves; although she was still somewhat proud of her firm buttocks. A push-up bra under her white shirt created an illusion of breasts, but that did not help fight the stage fright in the least.

“Good evening, Ladies and Gentlemen! My name is Frank Trustworthy. Welcome to another episode of Who Wanna Be a Bimbo. Today’s contestant is Allison. Do you wanna be a bimbo, Allison?”

“Ehm,” the agent stammered. She tried to smile, but it turned out awkward, “n-no. I… I’d rather not,” she finally answered, but then remembered that she had actually rehearsed that introduction and she was supposed to act more flirtatiously.

“Not even a single transformation?” asked the host, unknowingly offering her a helping hand.

“W-well… maybe a few of them,” the contestant answered, her smile finally becoming more natural.

“Will you share them with us or are they a secret?” Frank asked with a wink.

“Well, I wouldn’t mind getting some curves,” Allison grabbed her narrow hips. She was still nervous, but at least for now she was playing the role which she had actually rehearsed. “Up here too,” she pointed towards her breasts with a shy smile on her face.

“That’s a pretty common request,” the host replied, nodding his head in agreement, “anything else?”

“Hmm,” the agent sounded as if she was pondering, but in reality she was simply focusing on her role, “maybe my hair and eyes could have more attractive colours, or at least be more distinctive.”

Allison’s hair was dark blonde-ish and her eyes were grey, so the claim was plausible. In reality she was satisfied with these characteristics, although she would not mind if they were actually improved. Her hair was relatively long, reaching almost to her shoulders, but at the same time it was quite thin, so she usually wore it in a pony-tail.

“That’s also within our reach,” Frank replied, “I’m sure that if I kept asking, we’d be able to find at least a few more,” he added, winking once again, ”but we have a quiz ahead of us.”

The host then proceeded to explain the rules. Allison knew them all well, but she listened carefully nevertheless; focusing on the quiz helped her fight the nervousness.

“Draw the Categories,” Frank finished.

“Periodic Table, African Countries, Swords, Geometry, Pacific Islands, Leaves, European Islands, Cold War, Languages, Recognise Country, Bard of Avon, Balkans.”

“Do you like them?” the host asked.

“Yes,” Allison answered truthfully with a pensive look, “they should be doable.”

She HAD prepared for at least seven of the drawn categories, so in theory she should know the answers to most of the questions. The problem was that she remained nervous and it required most of her will just to focus on the quiz. The audience in front of the contestant, while friendly and enthusiastic, was impossible to ignore and its mere presence caused the stage fright.

“Which category do you choose for the first round?”

“Geometry.”