The Bimbo Experiment Chamber

Blaze held Lois Lane by one arm beneath the reporter's swelling tits, and two fingers plunged into the hot, dripping slit, so that Lois had to walk on tip-toe in front of the ****-dealing demon. At the demon's insistence, the reporter brought a bottle of water with her...the better to let the **** work as it inflated her tits and ass, and rotted her brain.

As the demon's eyes burned a new button appeared below the others. A blank red button...

"Press it," she whispered in the reporter's brains...and Lois stretched out, moaning aloud as the demon's fingers gripped her cunny tighter, to press the red button.

The elevator lurched into life.

Down they went on the elevator. Below the level of the club, where Tyrell relaxed and waited for his next victim. Below the **** den, and the brothel of ****-addicted bimbo whores run by Blaze's gang. To a level that showed on no plan of the building, accessible only to those few who could find and press that magic button.

The doors shuddered open...and Lois Lane nearly screamed as she saw Blaze's little slice of hell.

The room was laid out like a great pentagram, cabalistic signs incised on every inch of walls, floor, and ceiling; even the fluorescents overhead were arranged in strange, nonsensical lines. There were five cages, one in each corner...and four were occupied. Dimly, Lois might have recognized the faces of the four women she had come to find...had hoped once to save...but their bodies were utterly unrecognizable.

Diana Reynolds was bent over on some kind of massage chair. Her breasts were the size of medicine balls, stretched out until the enormous nipples pressed against the floor. Twin bags of pink fluid fed her enormous boobs from IV lines, and the young woman with the coppery red hair reached out, trying and failing to grasp her own nipples.

Mara de la Cruz, the pear-shaped art major, was in a similar setup...except her IVs were plugged into her enormous ass. Lois Lane gawked at a flaring butt that resembled nothing more than the back side of a hippo, minus the tail, the enormous thighs nearly as thick as her waist, the hips flaring out more than three feet across.

Jenny Dunlap's IVs were plugged into her labia...and the reporter saw that the skinny blonde had her arms and feet manacled to the floor. Her pussy was a single enormous gaping slit, drooling and pulsing, big enough for a grown man to easily insert his own head...and Jenny constantly moaned and writhed, her pussy flaps opening and closing, the smell strange and terrible...

...and then there was Tonya Wong. The petite business major whose eyes stared vacantly ahead. One IV slid up a single nostril, the other attached to her neck. The once-black hair was now platinum blonde, and the petite body had filled out in true bimbo fashion, with only her eyes giving away her ethnicity...but there was nothing behind those eyes. They were duller and more placid than a cow's. She twitched, sometime, like a dog pawing the air in her sleep, but that was all. No sign that the young woman, once so smart, recognized the world around her at all.

"Congratulations, Loisl. You've found the missing women. This is where I test what the full effects of my **** are. Rather **** in high doses, don't you think? No, I don't imagine you think at all. Which is a pity. I hope you have enough brains left to experience what I'm about to do to you..."

...and Lois Lane tip-toed forward, driven by the stiff fingers in her cunny, toward the fifth and final cage...where her chair awaited.