The bad guys flee

Fred, now a busty redhead stared at you with panicked eyes. "What do we do?" she squeaked, her voice so high it was barely recognizable.

You looked around frantically for any way to escape, but the room was sealed tight, and the A.Z.C.L. members were blocking the only exit. You knew that with the z-chambers destroyed and drives wiped, there would be no going back. No way to return to your original bodies. The thought sent a coldly erotic shiver down your spine.

“We should take those girls,” one of the zealots suggested.

The leader looked you over with a greedy smile. "Yes, they'll make fine examples of our lord's wrath!"

But then, as if on cue, an alarm blared throughout the building, and the A.Z.C.L. members froze. "The authorities!" one of them whispered in terror.

The leader's eyes darted around the room, searching for a way out. "Flee, brothers! We must not be caught in this den of iniquity!"

The fanatics rushed for the exit, knocking over chairs and shoving aside any obstacle in their path. You and your friends, still in shock from the recent events, watched in disbelief as they escaped, uncaring that they were leaving you trapped and utterly transformed.

Minutes later, the sound of sirens filled the air, growing louder and louder until finally, the door burst open and a squad of police officers flooded into the room, guns drawn. You squealed in surprise, your bimbo instincts taking over as you instinctively covered your voluminous breasts and hairless pussy with your hands.

The officers took in the scene, their eyes wide with shock as they saw the destruction of the z-chambers and the four of you in your naked bimbo forms. You could see the confusion and disgust in their expressions, and your heart sank even further. You had never felt so small and powerless in your life.

One of the officers, a burly man with a no-nonsense attitude, approached you. "What the hell happened here?" he barked, his voice echoing in the chaotic room.

Tiffany, the bimbo doll receptionist, rushed over, her oversized breasts bouncing with each step. "Officer, please! Religious zealots came in here and **** them to use the z-chambers!" she said, her voice a mix of fear and urgency. "They wiped the drives!" She said. You realise she is trapped too.

“Who?” The police asks.

Tiffany’s eyes widened. “The Anti-Z-Chamber League! They said they were here to cleanse this place!” She pointed to the ruins of the z-chambers.

The room was chaos as the cops cordoned off tried to process the scene, patrons trying to get back to the z-chambers to return to their original bodies and realising they couldn’t.

The burly officer took a deep breath, trying to keep his composure. "Alright, let's get everyone's statements," he said, pulling out his notepad. You watched as the police officers began to question your friends, scribbling down notes.

Fred, still in shock, stumbled through her explanation, her squeaky voice trembling with fear as she started to cry and sob in histrionic. "They just came in and started yelling about sin and stuff," she said, her eyes brimming with tears. "They were like Samuel L Jackson in pulp fiction. But they were white. And they made us all strip and then **** us into the machines! I don't know how it happened! One second it was there. Then. Bam. It was gone. Those bastards took my cock! I want my cock back! Please officers, you have to get it back! Put an APB out for it. It was about so big, it had a slight bend in it. Circumcised. I’m sure I could identify it in a police line up. I’m not a man without it! See, I have a pussy!!!! A pussy! And breasts!" Man Fred was such a drama queen!

The police, now fully aware of the severity of the situation, began to usher the four of you into a separate room for privacy. As they did so, one of the officers pulled out his radio. "We have a situation at the Bimbo Doll Emporium," he said into the device. "Multiple **** transformations. Non consensual permanent transformations! Requesting backup, trauma support and a forensic team. Lots of dumb, crying bimbo dolls… extra tissues needed. I repeat. Extra tissues.”

The room was a stark contrast to the chaotic scene of the destruction outside. It was a plain, white-walled space with a table and chairs. You sat down, trying to get comfortable with your new, exaggerated proportions. Brad looked over at you, his eyes wide with a mix of fear and confusion. "What the fuck are we going to do, Luke?" he whispered, his voice now high and squeaky.

You took a deep breath, trying to think clearly. "First, we need to explain what happened to the police," you said, your voice a soft coo that was so unlike your usual gruff tone. "Then we call our partners."

“How can I explain this to Jill, my fiance?!” Brad’s squeaky voice was filled with despair as the reality of the situation began to set in. You could see the fear and embarrassment in his eyes, mirroring your own feelings. You knew that explaining to your partners that you had been transformed into bimbo dolls during a bachelor party gone wrong was going to be one hell of a conversation. “I’ve fuck up our wedding. She’s going to be so cross! My tux won’t fit!”

Oh yeah. Your partner Sally would crack the shits!

The police officer nodded gravely as he took down your statements. "We'll need to contact your partners," he said, his voice a mix of professionalism and disbelief. "This is...unprecedented."

You looked at Brad, who was fidgeting nervouslyt. "Yeah, good luck with that," he murmured. “Can we get some clothes? My old ones are much too big.” She asked.

“We only have sex costumes,” Tifffany said.

“Better than being naked…” you point out.

The police officers looked at each other awkwardly, then back at you. The burly one nodded to Tiffany. "Get them something to wear," he said gruffly.

Tiffany scurried off and returned with a collection of costumes that were, indeed, sexy. They were all designed to accentuate your new bimbo doll figures, with tight corsets that pushed your breasts up and out, and skirts so short that they barely covered your asses. You couldn't help but blush as you slipped into the costumes, the fabric clinging to your curves in a way that felt both degrading and strangely exciting. The police officers averted their eyes, trying not to stare as you dressed.

Once everyone was as covered as the costumes allowed, the interrogation continued. You watched as Brad struggled to explain to the officers what had happened.

The wait for the backup felt like an eternity, your hearts racing with every second that ticked by. The fear of being stuck like this forever was palpable in the air, thick and suffocating. And then, finally, the doors burst open and in rushed a group of officers, followed by a frantic Sally, your partner and Jill, Brad's fiancée.