184. Amy Finds a New Calling
Amy decides that this Hypno-Ray is too much of a boon not to use. “I’ll take it upstairs and use it on Boswell, and then I can stop dallying around on this ground floor and get closer to finding Shannon!” She unfolds the instructions and begins to read to herself:
“‘Congratulations on your purchase of a genuine,’ yadda yadda, ‘requires 5 C batteries (included)’, etc., ‘do not get wet’, and so on. Okay, operating instructions. ‘To use, simply point at subject’s eyes and pull trigger. Eye contact must be maintained for at least five seconds.’ Sounds easy enough. ‘For your convenience, several popular post-hypnotic suggestions have been pre-programmed into the Hypno-Ray. Simply turn the knob until the desired suggestion is shown in the selector window. To attempt your own post-hypnotic suggest, simply select Freestyle. CAUTION! Freestyle hypnosis is for experts only!’ Well, I’m no expert. I’d better pick one of the preset suggestions.”
Amy begins spinning the dial. “Chicken, Wet, Naked, hmmm. Boswell seems like he’d be an angry chicken. That won’t help. Wet will only make him mad. And he seems so unconcerned by worldly things that I doubt he’d notice if he were naked, and if he did he wouldn’t care.” Amy keeps turning the dial. “‘Bimbo*’. Huh. I wonder what the star’s about.” Amy goes back to the instructions. “‘For maximum effect, Bimbo setting should be used with Doctor Carluzzo’s Patented Bimboization Pills (sold separately). Warning! The Bimbo suggestion, particularly when used in combination with Doctor Carluzzo’s Patented Bimboization Pills (sold separately) has a tendency to be more permanent than other suggestions! Doctor Carluzzo and Doctor Carluzzo Inc. cannot be held liable should effects of the Bimboization prove irreversible.’” Amy decides that Bimbo is the proper setting to take care of Boswell. “I’m not sure exactly what it will do, but I’m pretty sure a bimbo isn’t going to keep me from going through that door.” She grabs the Hypno-Ray and starts walking for the stairs. As she does so, however, she is suddenly struck by doubt that this is a good plan.
“Boswell seems pretty formidable, and probably would get angry if I tried this on him and it didn’t work,” she thinks, “And there’s no guarantee it WILL work. After all, it looks like the kind of junk they used to sell in the back of comic books to naïve kids. Maybe I should test it first…” Amy looks at the gun and switches the setting to “Wet.” “I definitely don’t want to bimboize myself, and thinking I’m wet wouldn’t be the worst thing ever.” She pulls the trigger and points the gun at her face. Soon she finds herself lost in the spiral, falling deeper and deeper, further and further into a deep, deep sleep. Amy closes her eyes and lets her arms fall to her sides. As she drifts off, her muscles relax, causing the Hypno-Ray to slip from her fingers.
Crack! The sound of the gun hitting the floor rouses Amy from her reverie. “Where am I? And why am I SOAKED?” Amy begins flicking her arms and kicking her legs, trying to get as much of the imaginary water off of her as possible. As she does so, she inadvertently kicks the Hypno-Ray, sending it sliding across the floor. Seeing the Hypno-Ray reminds her of what’s going on. “I’m not REALLY wet, it’s all in my head. All in my head. Just think to yourself ‘you’re dry!’ and you’ll be dry again.” Amy mostly succeeds in de-programming herself. She still has a vague residual sense of wetness, but she can overcome it with conscious thought. “Alright, now where’s that Hypno-Ray…”
Amy searches the floor and eventually finds it. She stoops over and picks it up by the barrel, just behind the spiral disc. She takes another look at the disc as she stands up, noting with mild curiosity that it’s still spinning. Only too late does she realize that she is about to hypnotize herself again. Soon she is back in her trance, this time much deeper. She wakes twenty minutes later of her own accord.
“I feel all… funny?” Amy says to no one in particular, her voice about an octave higher than usual. “I think it was this gun-thingee with the swirly deal.” Amy picks up the Hypno-Ray and looks at it again. “Huh. Bim-Bo. That’s a funny word. And it’s got a star next to it!” Amy starts giggling despite herself at the silly words and symbols on the gun. Suddenly Amy is seized with a strange compulsion.
“That word reminds me. I think I need to take some medicine now. Bim-Bo medicine.” Amy begins searching through the pile of junk she found the Hypno-Ray in until she finds a small tin box. The lid has a picture of Doctor Carluzzo gesturing like a turn-of-the-century carnival barker on one side. On the other side it has a rather sultry looking blonde sexpot. In the middle are the words “Doctor Carluzzo’s Patented Bimboization Pills!” Amy smiles, quite proud of herself. “I don’t know what all those words mean, but I know I’m supposed to take the medicine that says ‘Bimbo’ on it!” She opens the box and pops a handful of the pills into her mouth.
“Oooh… Now I feel all funny in a different way!” Amy feels woozy. She stumbles around for a minute before finding a mirror. “I like mirrors. It’s fun to look at myself!” As she does so her vision gets a bit fuzzy. She reaches up to rub her eyes, but is stopped by her glasses, which are jolted off her head and shatter with a KRING! on the ground. Amy looks in the mirror. “Gosh! I look pretty without glasses!” Amy begins to change before her own eyes. Her hair starts getting puffier, longer, with more volume. Soon the hair tie that kept her mane in a loose pony tail bursts off, freeing her hair to drape across her shoulders and half-way down her back. Then her hair begins to change color, turning lighter and lighter at the roots until it becomes a strawberry blonde. The new color slowly spreads up from the roots, working its way down to the tips. Her nose, which had been a little on the large size, shrinks down and turns up slightly. Her lips darken from a soft pink to a deep red. “It’s like I’m wearing lipstick!” Amy claps her hands in excitement at this latest change. As she does so, she notices that her fingernails have changed, too. They’re now a deep red, like her lips, and looong, about an inch and a half, like press-on nails. “Ooooooh!” Amy’s chest begins to feel tight. She looks at herself in the mirror and sees that her t-shirt, which had been loose-fitting, is growing tighter and tighter as her chest expands. Soon the shirt is form-fitting around the bust, hanging loosely down from her breasts. Amy’s getting uncomfortable, so she takes her shirt off, crossing her arms in front of her so that she can peel it off over her head. Her pink bra is now ready to burst, barely covering half of her expanded breasts. If Amy had the perspicacity to guess bra sizes, she would have estimated that her breasts had swelled from a C cup to DDD. She reaches back to undo the bra clasp, freeing her breasts with a BOING! The changes continue, as she looks down and notices that her already muscular butt has added a little extra padding, forming two near-perfect spheres in her cut-off jean shorts. Amy unbuttons her shorts and slides them down to get a better look. Her heart-print panties, which were a conservative brief-cut before, now struggle to contain her swollen buttocks, exposing a good third of the bottom of her cheeks. Amy, however, has gotten distracted from her metamorphosing body by her panties. “Tee-hee! Hearts are cute! I like hearts…”
Amy spends the next few minutes staring at her panties and thinking about hearts, and how much she likes them. Then Amy feels the final effect of the bimboization pills. Heat starts building in her loins and she starts to ache for release. “Oh my god, I haven’t had sex in, like, forEVER!” she says out loud. “I wish Shannon were here. I’ll bet SHE’D want to have sex. Hey, where is Shannon? I haven’t seen her in a while.” As Amy contemplates this mystery, she wanders up the stairs out of the lab. Once she reaches the Grand Hallway she takes in her surroundings, thinks a moment, then makes a pronouncement. “This house is NOT sexy. It’s all spooky and icky. I should leave. Amy walks out the front door and began wandering through the woods.
The next morning Amy wanders back to the clearing where she left her car. She has a spring in her step and a smile on her face. After leaving the house last night she found a reeeeeally nice tree that gave her a helping hand with her little sex problem. Amy couldn’t believe she had never done it in all three holes at once before (or that she had never ever done it in the back hole). It just didn’t seem like her. Unfortunately, the tree had only gone a couple of hours before its branches broke off, not nearly long enough for Amy. But Amy was confident that the tree had been good enough to keep her satisfied at least until she found a gas station or a truck stop. Surely she could find somebody there who could satisfy her needs.
As Amy gets into the car, dressed in nothing but hiking boots and tight heart-print panties, something at the back of her brain told her to stop. “Something about this is wrong!” it said, “You're supposed to be doing... something…” Amy shook her head and forgot all about it. “Thinking is hard!” she says to herself. “I’m glad I won’t have to do much of THAT anymore!”
Amy is no longer inclined to continue her adventure. Shannon, unfortunately, is not going to rescue herself.