Do not resist

The A.Z.C.L members spread out, their weapons at the ready, and began to advance on the z-chambers. You watch in fear, knowing that as a weak bimbo doll you can’t overpower armed men. But if you do nothing your data will be lost. You don’t want to remain like this! Your eyes swing to Brad, Fred and Tom. They’re just standing there.

Strangely the thought of being permanently trapped as a bimbo doll, with no escape, filled you not with dread but… an odd arousal. Your cheeks flushed, your breathing quickened, and your chest heaved. You felt your new body reacting in ways you didn’t expect, your nipples hardening and your pussy growing wet. The idea of being irrevocably trapped as a mindless sex object was clearly terrifying, but it also stirred a primal part of you that found the danger thrilling and arousing. It was because you were a bimbo doll that you found being stuck as a bimbo doll a turn on. It was a catch 22!

“Brad… do something?” You whisper. He eyes the guns and shakes his head. You watch as they put the shaped charges on the machines. They can’t blow them up! You’re a guy, not a bimbo doll. This was just a drunken lark. You’re not ready to give up your masculinity- your very identity! “You can’t. This was just a stag party joke!” You mutter.

The leader holds up his hand and looks at you, head tilting as he realises what you were doing here… with your friends. He smirks and looks at Brad and Fred and Tom, his grin turning downright sinister. “Wait. These assholes haven’t been turned into bimbo dolls yet. We can’t ruin their bucks party. That would be… impolite.” The leader motions at your male friends and then the Z-Chambers.

“You couldn’t keep your mouth shut could you Luke?!” Fred says accusingly.

You shrug apologetically as your three friends look from you to each other in horror, realizing the gravity of the situation. The leader of the A.Z.C.L. approaches Brad, a sadistic smile on his face.

"Ah, sir," he sneers. "You shall be the first to experience the divine wrath of our lord! Step into the z-chamber…” He grabbed Brad and started to drag him toward the nearest chamber, the one that had transformed you. You watch feeling a little guilty that it was your outburst that started this.

Brad, ****, latched onto the one thing that might save him. "But we're just here for a bachelor party! Luke was the only one that wanted to use the chamber. Honest. This is all just a silly misunderstanding!"

The leader's smile grew more twisted. "Silence! You shall be cleansed of your sins you heathen scum! Fornicators like you are the devils work!”

“Um, he needs to strip before he gets in - to be safe,” Tiffany says.

“Well then strip. You to as well,” he motions to Fred and Tom. Your three friends reluctantly disrobe.

The leader shoved Brad into the z-chamber, the door slammed shut. The interior light began to pulse again, and the sound of the transformation process filled the air. “Make him into the most **** bimbo doll you can. Brainless, tiny, ultra feminine, weak and submissively horny!” The leader growled at Tiffany, brandishing his gun, and she hurried to obey.

The sound of the machine grew to a crescendo. Then, suddenly, it stopped. The doors to Brad's z-chamber opened and out stepped a figure that was no longer Brad, a petite form, completely transformed. His body had shrunk to a height barely reaching five feet, with wide hips and a minuscule waist. His once strong arms and legs had been replaced by slender, doll-like limbs that looked as if they could barely support his new, gravity-defying bust. His hair had been transformed into a cascade of blonde curls, framing a gorgeous face. His eyes were full of fear and he seemed… vapid? He was clearly a bimbo doll of the most **** variety.

“And you!” the A.Z.C.L. leader bellowed, pointing at Fred. “You shall follow in your friend’s footsteps!” He said. “The righteous man…” the leader started to Ezekiel out.

Fred, his eyes wide with terror, looked at Brad’s new form and then at you, his mind racing. He knew what was coming, and he knew that once he stepped into the chamber, his fate would be sealed. But before he could protest or even think of a plan, the leader’s burly men grabbed him and hauled him towards the chamber, his cries for mercy echoing through the room.

You watched in horror, unable to move, your body frozen with fear and a strange, growing excitement. The leader turned to Tom, the last of your group still in his original form. “And you, good sir, will be the pièce de résistance of our divine intervention!” He chuckled darkly.

Tom tried to fight back, but the A.Z.C.L. members were too strong, and he was soon dragged naked and kicking into the z-chamber, his protests muffled as the doors closed. The machine whirred to life. You and Brad, now both trapped in tiny bimbo doll bodies, could only cling to each others naked bodies for comfort, your oversized breasts pressing together.

The transformation was quicker this time, and when the doors slid open, Tom emerged as the most **** bimbo doll imaginable. His once towering frame had shrunk down to just over four feet tall, his shoulders narrowed and his hips widened to impossible proportions. His hair had turned a shocking shade of pink, styled into two curly pigtails that bobbed as he stumbled out. His face was girlishly coy, his lips a garish red, and his eyes were now a piercing shade of blue. His voice had become high-pitched and breathy, and he looked utterly confused as he took in his new surroundings.

Fred was next, and when the doors of his chamber parted, the room was met with the sight of a busty redhead with a bewildered expression. Her breasts were so large they seemed to defy gravity, and her waist was so tiny it looked like you could wrap your hands around it. She giggled and swayed her hips as she stepped out, her voice a high-pitched squeak. "Oh my gosh, guys! This is, like, so amazing! Look! My cocks gone!!!" she said, her eyes wide with vapid excitement. She looked nothing like the Fred you knew, and yet the mischievous glint in her eyes was unmistakable.

The leader, seemingly satisfied with his actions so far, turned his attention to the four of you. "Now, little ones," he sneered, "you shall watch as we destroy these machines of sin!"

As the A.Z.C.L. members began to plant their explosives, you realized you had to do something. You couldn't let this happen—not just for yourselves, but for all the unsuspecting patrons of the Bimbo Doll Emporium. But what could you do!?

You looked down at your new, powerless body—tiny, weak, and so...bimbo-ified. You had never felt so useless! The room seemed to be spinning with surreal fear and confusion, and your legs felt like jelly. You knew that as bimbo dolls, you didn't stand a chance against these armed fanatics.

As the leader watched his minions plant the last of the explosives, you felt a strange, irrational hope that maybe, just maybe, the z-chamber would somehow save you. Maybe it had a fail-safe that would reverse the process at the last second. But as the countdown began, the cold reality sank in. The A.Z.C.L. was about to destroy your life. Panic surged through your new, curvy body.

The leader cackled, enjoying the sight of your fear. "You see, perverts? This is what happens when you mess with the natural order!" He gestured grandly at the z-chambers, his followers nodding in agreement. “Burn it all!” He said and his men obeyed

You watched, powerless, as the z-chamber's were incinerated with small chemical bombs that burned to bright to look at. The A.Z.C.L. members were methodical in their destruction, wiping the drives that contained the records of your original DNA and mental state. Each click of a button, each flash of a screen going dark, felt like a nail in the coffin of your previous life. You were now nothing more than a bimbo doll, a plaything for anyone who found you appealing.