Bimbo Bodysuit 3

"No one goes in there except me. Nobody. Got it?" The security guard nodded dumbly as Simon Anderson, financial administrator at the London Neurological Research Hospital slammed the door shut and locked it.

Anderson was bewildered. Two senior members of staff, brilliant professional women, had willingly transformed themselves into ditzy bimbos. First Dr Chalmers, who could currently be found escorting the world's richest men in Las Vegas, then her friend Dr Nayleigh who had at least annotated the work before her transformation into a blowjob machine the day before. With two academic heavyweights gone, Anderson was going to have to start reviewing budgets, reallocating resources, making money available for hiring... If he had hair, he would have been tearing it out.

In his office, he fumed. These fucking women, these bitches... Sarah Nayleigh's personnel file sat open on his desk, and he looked at her plain face with contempt. On his monitor was a photo of her taken by security after her transformation. She was unrecognisable, gorgeous. Simon's cock pulsed in his trousers. Nayleigh had nearly sunk the hospital with her stupid, bimbo tits and dumb face. The more he thought about her, the angrier and harder he became. He walked over, bolted his door, and returned to his desk. Standing, he unbuckled his belt and pulled his erection from his fly.

Simon seethed as he stroked, muttering away; "You want to be a useless cow, that's fine. You can take my load on your whore face." The image stared back at Simon, lusty and full lipped, those incredible breasts standing round and inviting. His balls tightened and his cock thickened in his grip.

"You thought you were smart... Ungh... But all the time you were just another... another stupid cunt! Fuuuuckkk!" Jizz shot from Simon, across the paperwork, over Sarah Nayleigh's old ID photo, and splattered her new face on the screen. Simon collapsed in his chair, watching cum soak into the paper, drip between the buttons of his keyboard, pool under his monitor, only to be shocked upright by his ringing phone.

"Hello Sophie," Simon said grimly. "What can I do for you?" Dr Sophie Anderson was former head neurologist at the LNRH, now lead neuro specialist at the World Health Organisation, and Simon's wife. He had the same low opinion of her as he did all women. He tolerated her around the house, fucked her occasionally, but resented her brilliance, her independence and her money - which he happily spent. Dabbing at his thick, gloopy seed with a tissue, he listened as Sophie told him she'd be away for the next week at a conference in Chicago.

"Fine. See you when you're back. Don't fuck anyone this time." He hung up. That cow had cheated on him eleven years earlier, screwed some doctor on a trip, and he had never let her forget it. He never would.

He'd loved her once, as much as he'd loved or could love anyone. Her intelligence, her caring nature and her tall, lithe figure had been appealing. But her career and ambition had outpaced his own. They were almost the same height, but he felt small around her in every way that mattered. If it weren't for the money she was making he'd have dumped her years ago.

Simon looked at Sarah Nayleigh's cum streaked photo, and at Sarenna on his monitor. He thought of unloading cum onto his wife's face, humiliating her. And he picked up Dr Nayleigh's notebook and started to read.

It took Simon a month to really understand what was in the notes, what he needed to do. Some of his wife's hair provided the DNA basis, and he tweaked Nayleigh's design using the systems Chalmers originally built. He wanted Sophie to be womanly, round-hipped, a sexed-up milf rather than a bottle-blonde bimbo. A brunette. But he wanted the big, fake looking tits... and God, he wanted her as dumb as fuck. After a couple of failures and false starts, the suit began to grow - over the course of a few weeks it went from just a cluster of cells, to a patch of flesh, to something recognisably alive.

He had a target date - an annual meeting where Sophie would be visiting his hospital. He planned to lure her down to the office, drug her and put her into the suit. He'd walk out with a new domesticated slut masquerading as a visitor and his wife would just disappear. Insurance would pay out, eventually, and he'd get the house and the bank accounts.

By the date of the meeting, he had the suit complete in the tank. He watched it, his dick jumping and twitching with anticipation in his pants. The suit's eyeless face floated eerily, it's body dancing a strange seductive ripple as nutrients bubbled through the liquid. Simon set a bottle of anaesthetic and needle on the side, and went to meet his wife at reception.

Simon twitched nervously through the meeting. He wasn't concerned in the least about erasing his wife's personality or replacing her body - only about being caught. After the meeting, he led his wife down the hospital's corridors to Dr Sarah Nayleigh's shuttered lab. Sophie stopped Simon as they approached the door.

"What exactly are you going to show me, Simon?" Her voice was tense.

Simon tried to reassure her. "What those women did to themselves was insane, but you have to see what they built. I think you're the only person who could understand it properly!"

Simon unlocked the door and went inside, intending to grab the syringe from the side and surprise his wife as soon as she was inside. But the syringe was not there. He stared dumbly at the desktop as the door clicked shut behind him. He turned to see Sophie pointing a revolver at him.

"I had to be sure you were going to go through with it... But now I see you were, I have no choice. Get undressed." She gestured downwards with a jerk of the gun. "I still have a few friends here, and you're not smart enough to cover your tracks properly. I gave you the benefit of the doubt, but I'm not an idiot."

"H-how did you get that gun in here?" Simon gibbered. His plan had crashed to the ground and his stomach was lurching.

"Grant in Security. The same guy who warned me what you were doing... He searched my bag on the way in. I bet you don't even know his name, do you? He's been here for twelve years. Now I said STRIP you bastard!" Simon nervously removed his clothes as Sophie walked over to the tank that held her new skin and pressed a button at the base. The nutritional fluid within began to drain, and monitoring wires that linked the suit to the system slowly withdrew.

With his clothes in a pile, Simon shifted uneasily, holding his hands over his genitals. "It's not going to work on me. The DNA has to match."

"It already does, dear husband. You're not smart enough to make this work, and I had to make sure you were incapable of hurting anyone else. I thought it was probably me you were trying to change, but I couldn't live with the possibility of you preying on some poor girl in accounts. The only safe thing to do was replace the DNA with yours."

Simon's mouth went dry. He'd been shaping his own body. His new... womanhood? A permanent prosthesis meant for him to love or abuse, not to live in.

"You have to drink that. You already know you won't survive otherwise." Sophie indicated the neural plasticity formula on the desk.

"Please Sophie... don't make me do this. I beg you. I beg on my knees to you, please don't." He sank to his knees dramatically, tears dripping from his chin.

"I know you wouldn't extend me the same courtesy, you piece of shit. Drink. Now." Sophie stepped back and raised the gun. Gibbering, Simon drank the fluid and immediately felt a strange quiet envelop his mind. He stopped crying. "It'll just be a minute... Then you'll be fine." He sat, unmoving, as his brain was prepared for integration by the suit. After five minutes of silence, Sophie spoke again. "Now put the suit on. Feet first."

Holding the suit, Simon slipped his feet into the opening in the back and down the legs. They were loose enough to accept him without distorting, but the moment his toes wriggled into those of the suit, it began to tighten. Each leg, from tiptoe to groin, sealed around his skin, dissolving the hairs and upper epidermis, adding shape to his calves and the thickness he had craved to his thighs. Under the skin his old toenails dissolved in seconds, replaced by the suits perfect ones.

Sophie watched intently. She hadn't expected to feel this turned on. Her own bisexuality, largely unexplored outside of the porn she watched when alone, was bubbling to the surface. "Now the arms, dear husband."

Pulling up the torso, Simon inserted his arms into the sleeves of the suit, finding the same tightening occurring along his limbs. The meaty buttocks settled over his own, and the opening intended to merge with Sophie's labia pulled over his genitals. If he were capable of shame at that point, Simon would have felt it as his balls and hard cock hung through the hole. His new, elegant fingers wrapped around his erection and tugged compulsively. At the base, the suit pulled tight and began digging into the flesh underneath his balls. Sophie winced as Simon jerked, jerked, jerked, cumming hard and copiously across the floor. His balls pulled tight to the base of the erection and seemed to atrophy in seconds. There were tears in Simon's eyes as he pulled his now useless cock away from his body with a sickening wet sound. It tumbled from his hand and fell into the puddle of cum with a splat. In the place where it had wrenched away, the suit was already cleaning up, pulling the flesh apart and growing vaginal walls inside him, setting his urethra, extending labia from it's edges. The suits clitoris, intended to overtake the wearer's own anyway, would function perfectly without a previously existing one, and the nerves actively burrowed into his own system. He would never have a true reproductive system, but he had a pussy now.

Behind him, his big new ass trembled as the suit knotted into his sphincter, permanently sealing the openings together. His ring throbbed with sensation as he flexed the muscle involuntarily, the suit training his responses, getting his body used to its size, flexibility and power.

Now the upper torso and head, the huge round breasts aligning with his chest. As the nerves and fibres fixed into his body, the sensitive new nipples connecting to his old ones, Simon reacted with his first female orgasm, his now complete and functioning vagina creaming as he squeezed his thick thighs together. He ran his hands over the heavy mounds now permanently attached to him. Sophie pushed her hand into her panties and played with her clit as she devoured her husbands new curves, biting her lip lustfully as she took in the giant tits, the prominent blue veins visible through the skin, their undulation as he came.

The back of the suit sealed over and Simon guided his new face into place over his old one. The eyes settled into place, new eyelids sliding over the surface of his eyeballs.

The nose compressed and reshaped his old one, the suits luscious lips settling over his teeth as his old ones dissolved painlessly.

Simon's mind had long ceased to work in any familiar way. His body was operating on autopilot, helping the suit into position, flexing and moving to ensure full integration. The massive neurological power required to join his body with the suit had skimmed the intelligence from him, evaporated much of his memory. As his new, radically impaired brain restarted, it focused on the most immediate sensations in front of him: the feeling of his new body, the sight of his wife cumming in front of him.

"What's... what's going on?" Simon's voice was breathy and high, his throat having been constricted and reshaped. "I'm... you're my... who?"

Righting her underwear, Sophie approached her transformed husband, the man who would have effectively murdered her. "I'm your mistress darling, you belong to me. Your name is Simone." She draped Simon's jacket over the new woman. "How about we get you home?"

Three months later, Sophie got out of a taxi outside her home. It had been an intense work trip to Singapore, and the cool of London was nice to come back to. In fact, the thought of the person waiting for her inside put a spring in her step.

"Mistress! I've missed you so much!" Simone bounded to Sophie and kissed her with soft, perfect lips.

"And I've missed you too, my perfect little maid pet. Let's go upstairs and show each other exactly how much."