Serenity Valley (Bimbofication, TG) (Patreon)

“Take the next exit, on our left.” Caitlan said.

“Oh, did you see the sign saying ‘Nowhereville’ somewhere?” Layla grumbled from the driver’s seat.

“Come on now, Layla,” Harlan said, with emphasis on the name - they had to remember to use their aliases, just in case. “It’s not that small a town.”

“It’s so out of the way I lost signal three times on the drive over.” Layla fumed. “It’s pretty damn small.”

“That’s probably why the villain targeted it.” Harlan shrugged. “Figured nobody would notice. You shouldn’t care about lack of signal anyway, you’re the one driving.”

“Focus, argue after. We lost an agent here already, so we need to be cautious.”

The modern world has dozens of different ways people can communicate. If you want to get in contact with someone, anyone, it is not a difficult thing to do. It’s harder to not be connected to the world in some way.

Which was why it was more than a little troubling that a small town had gone completely silent overnight. The agency had been thorough in it’s investigation before coming to the conclusion. The town of Peace Valley may as well have ceased to exist, as far as communications were concerned. No calls, blog posts, posts or comments on social media, not so much as an outgoing text message from anyone in the town had been recorded in the previous 24 hours.

This was more than a coincidence, and while other government agencies postulated an EMP frying all communications technology, or a bioweapon wiping the town’s residents out completely, the Supervillain Response Agency recognized a scheme in progress. Not too long ago they’d lost contact with one of their agents investigating a factory on the edge of that very town, and it wasn’t too far-fetched to connect that to whatever was going on in the town itself.

“Did our agent manage to get any info out before going dark?” Harlan asked. “Do we have any idea what we’re dealing with?”

“No, and that’s the worrying part.” Caitlan noted. “She’s skilled. Even if she got brought down, she should have been able to get some communication out first.”

“Probably just let herself get jumped.” Layla said. “Still, isn’t three overkill? Any one of us could probably bring down a supervillain ourselves, and two could do it easy.”

“We’re not in a position to wonder about that. Command wanted three to send, we were the three they had available.” Caitlan said. “A whole town going completely dark is not something you see - not only did they shut down comms, but they stopped anyone from escaping. Whoever it is, they’re not your average villain.”

“Whatever.” Layla said, refocusing on the road ahead. “The hotel’s up ahead. Just out of the dead zone.”

“We’ll set up there.” Harlan pulled his briefcase onto his lap. “That can be our base for the operation. I’ll get in contact with command once we rent a room.”

“Which leaves me securing the place and making sure no threats are around to mess with Mr. Techie.” Layla sighed.

“I’ll run recon on the town, see if I can find what we’re up against.” Caitlan finished. “Not planning to engage, but I would hate to go in blind.”

The plans set, the car pulled up to the motel (of a decent size, being two small buildings with a walkway between them on the second floor) and into an open space. The trio got out, dressed in their suits and ties and baring their briefcases full of gear. Caitlan walked off towards the town down the road, while Harlan and Layla stepped into the reception.

It wasn’t a particularly nice establishment, but the floors were clean and the receptionist was your usual sleepy, half-focused graveyard shift worker. She seemed to be only half paying attention as she checked the pair in for their room, not even bothering to check that they’d paid enough, and Layla dismissed her as a potential threat.

As the two agents took the elevator up, the bimbo at reception felt around beneath her desk. After a few misses, accidentally poking the woman beneath her desk whose tongue helped keep her natural arousal sufficiently satisfied to pass as normal, she managed to find the button that would signal her fellows that some intruders had entered the town…

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Leaving Harlan to set up his gear, Layla decided to make sure the area was secure. She’d already swept their room for bugs, followed by the hallway. She’d listened into some other rooms, not hearing much besides the bed-thumping noise of sex in two rooms. Well, motels did tend to attract some less-than-legal sorts - even prostitutes usually preferred a bed over an alleyway wall, she thought as she rolled her eyes.

After making sure that the motel itself wasn’t full of hidden ninjas, booby traps, or whatever else might threaten agents on a mission, she went down to the lobby and back out the door to look around the place. It would be good to know escape routes, hiding places, and so on. Admittedly, she wasn’t being quite as thorough as she usually was - her role as the team security expert was a bit redundant when both of her team members could take care of themselves just fine.

She was just about to head back inside, having made a mental list of all potential avenues of potential access and of escape (both of which turned out to be, quite simply, “to/from town” and “to/from the road”; a motel at the edge of a town didn’t have complex terrain), when she felt someone behind her. She whirled around, hands going up into a ready stance as she prepared to take on whatever enemy minion had come to-

A blonde, curvaceous woman, who didn’t look all that threatened. “Hey, sexy~” she giggled, taking a drag of a cigarette and blowing out a smoke ring. “Looking for a nice time?”

Layla looked her up and down quickly. She was certainly an attractive woman, with short blonde hair and a bust and bottom that probably made certain she never paid for drinks in bars. Her clothes were ratty and showed off as much of her body as possible without breaking public indecency laws, and even then toed that line. And combining with what she’d said… “No, not particularly.” she said. Just a street whore - no threat.

The woman didn’t stop smiling, pressing a bit closer as Layla dropped her hands. “Aw, don’t be like that honey~” she said, before taking a drag of her cigarette. “What’s the matter? I know you’re looking at me like a tasty snack~”

Layla was about to refuse her again, but the woman blew smoke again, this time directly in her face. If Layla hadn’t had to blink it out of her eyes and cough, she might have noticed the slight pink coloring. “I…” she started, before blinking again. “I don’t have money.” She said. That was a refusal, right?

Another ring of smoke directly into Layla’s face, making her even more confused and… was she a bit aroused? “For a piece of that, I think I’m willing to offer a free sample~” the woman said, now pressing right up against Layla, breasts pressing against her. “What do you say? Wanna let me blow your mind~?”

“I… uh… I-” Layla stammered, having a hard time thinking all of a sudden. What was she doing? She had something important she was doing… but she hadn’t gotten any in so long…

The prostitute took her hand and practically dragged her into the alley between the motel’s two buildings. Layla couldn’t find it in her to resist, following despite the fact she could easily break away if she wanted.

The nameless woman dropped to her knees. “I, uh, should we really-” Layla stammered.

“Aw, you’re cute when you’re nervous, honey~” the woman giggled, as she forcefully pulled down Layla’s pants and the simple white panties beneath them, exposing her snatch. “Or are you just playing nervous ‘cause you think it’s hot? Because someone’s looking wet down here~”

Layla was shocked to find she was horny… she was really horny… she tried to arrange her thoughts. She had something important to be doing. She was running security, and this was hardly security. In fact, this was a lot like a honey trap, wasn’t it-

As the hooker leaned in and Layla felt something wet slip inside of her, her mind went blank. She moaned loudly as the pleasure rocked her. If she’d had the presence of mind to notice, she’d know that this felt better than any head she’d received, from men or women - it wasn’t the first time, but it had never been as brain-breakingly good as this. Her body shook and she fell against the wall, and the woman followed, never disengaging her tongue for a moment. And it was about then that the pleasure running through her system made contact with the bimbofication formula that had been in the cigarette smoke.

Layla writhed with pleasure as she changed, not noticing a single thing. Her hair, neat and orderly black in a tight ponytail, started to grow out long and blonde. The simple band keeping her hair in place snapped as it grew too much to handle, letting her rapidly brightening hair fall down to her shoulders. The special agent’s musculature, developed from long and hard training, slimmed and faded. The hands that reached down to the hooker’s head weren’t the strong hands of a fighter, but dainty and delicate - although their action was rough, pulling the whore deeper between Layla’s legs.

The hooker kept on licking and sucking, and Layla’s moans grew slightly pained as her chest began to swell, pushing against her suit. Her proportions shifted across her body, her bottom ballooning out to cushion her against the wall and her waist narrowing while her hips thickened. Her bust continued to grow, and grow, constrained by the suit top. A soft pop sounded as a button shot off, then another, then another until with a harsh ripping sound the suit jacket, undershirt, and the bra beneath it were forced off of her body to accommodate her newly engorged bust.

Breathing a sigh of relief and returning to her shouts of pleasure, Layla felt something building, building. She had to - she had to stop, her mind couldn’t take any more - but her body wouldn’t obey, hips bucking forward and hands pulling in her lover closer as she tensed. The dam broke, and the mind melting orgasm ran through her bimbofied body like a freight train. She sprayed her juices into the whore’s waiting tongue, onto her face, and her brains drained out with them. For minutes, she came and came, her intelligence, her goals, her very identity dripping out of her pussy.

When the whore pulled back, licking her lips clean of her partner’s fluids, Layla was gone. The new bimbo panting as she came down from the high didn’t know her own name - or much of anything, for that matter. All she had in her mind was sex and mistress, another anonymous slut in the masses of minions. “Ah… ah… holy fuck… fuck…” she panted, looking down at her sponsor into bimbo-dom. “Like… I can’t just leave you out of it, can I?” she said with a giggle, as the woman between her legs offered her another bimbo-brand cigarette. She took a drag, blowing out the smoke and further cementing her new self. “Why don’t you lay back, and let me like, pay you back? With sex I mean.”

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Harlan got up and stretched, as his assorted communications gear and computer started to set up. At this point, the process was automated and he didn’t need to do anything personally besides come back in a few minutes to finish the process. It would set up a secure line to the outside world, to make sure that they had communications and could receive orders. It would also tap the camera network around the makeshift base of operations to keep tabs on the area.

The process having begun, Harlan took a sniff of himself and winced. Three days driving did not do kind things to one’s hygiene, and there was only so much deodorant could accomplish. The young man decided it was about time to take care of that, and took some clothes out of his bag and went to the shower. After stripping and making sure that the water was running hot, he set his phone to play classical music, and stepped in and continued to think about what he’d have to set up next.

As the team tech expert, he did a lot of technical stuff. So he’d have to prepare the tools, and the camera drones aerial recon… he started listing off responsibilities in his head as he soaked in the warm water, his body moving on autopilot to take a soft sponge and pour the pink body soap onto it and scrubbing himself down.

Harlan was good at his job - he was already planning out a dozen different scenarios and contingencies related to his specialization; what to do if the comms blackout was caused by an active electromagnetic field still in the town, versus if it was some sort of hacking, versus if it had been a one-time EMP frying all complicated tech. He made plans, and backup plans, and backup plans for the backup plans, and unfortunately for him not one scenario included the possibility that something might be up with the soap.

The man was too focused on the job to notice how rapidly that descriptor was becoming inaccurate. He lost a solid three inches of height as he plotted around the possibility of hostile robots honing in on anything producing radio signals, his shoulders slimming while he thought of possible countermeasures for someone hijacking his drones. Still moving automatically, he poured some shampoo into his hands and started to lather it over his head. When he moved one hand down to wash off his chest, he started to notice the surprising sensitivity of the region… but as the shampoo seeped in and got to work on his mind, the fact it was sensitive seemed suddenly irrelevant.

Instead focusing on his work, he paid no mind as the rubbing the soap over his masculinity quickly caused it to shrink and recede into his body - all he felt was a slight rush of satisfaction as ‘he’ quickly became a ‘she’, first in body and then in mind as the shampoo messed with her brain. It hardly seemed strange that as she rubbed soap over her chest, budding breasts formed and grew in her hands. It was perfectly normal that, as she started to rub conditioner into her head, it lengthened dramatically, brightening in color. It was like the conditioner was a bright dye, drenching her hair down to the roots in bubblegum pink.

The classical music that had been playing as she showered suddenly clicked off. Before she could notice, the music resumed, replaced by cheery pop. The newly minted woman found herself relaxing, thoughts of her old job and purpose fading with the beat as she began to shake her widening hips to the beat.

The music seemed to amplify the effects of the shampoo. Taking a shower felt so good, she thought as she cupped her watermelon sized breast in her arms, her other drifting down to her womanhood and rubbing gently. At this point even if she’d noticed her intelligence simply dripping out her ears, she wouldn’t have even cared. She was enjoying herself too much in the shower. She simply enjoyed herself, letting the water and soap cleanse her both of the filth of travel and of whatever dregs of masculinity were left to her, her fingers dipping inside her newly made pussy as she did so.

Nearly an hour after Harlan entered the shower, a new woman strode out, dressed only in a towel as she pulled her lengthy neon pink hair into twintails. She plopped herself down on the bed in front of the computer, and as she turned it on while trying to remember what on Earth she was doing, a hypnotic spiral flashed on the screen and in her eyes. A red light blinked on as the camera, and indeed the several cameras Harlan had set up around the room, started recording.

The woman smiled brightly as her new identity settled in. “Hey there, world~” she cooed, showing off the immense cleavage kept barely in check by her towel for the camera, “My name is Hayley, and I’m looking forward to getting to know you~ I’m here in Serenity Valley, formerly known by the boooring name of Peace Valley, and my job is to encourage strapping young men and pretty women to come and visit~! I’m planning to do a bit of a show, to show off what our sexy little town has to offer! I’ve got some friends coming to help out with that, but first, why don’t I show off myself a little?”

The pornographic streamer began to do exactly that, showing off for the camera for the first of what would be many broadcasts coming out of the newly-named ‘Serenity Valley’, her only memories of ‘masculinity’ being how good it felt when one plunged into her ‘femininity’.

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Caitlan found herself in a… regrettable situation. She’d planned to go back to the others, but she couldn’t contact them even through the special network Harlan had been supposed to set up. By the same token, she couldn’t contact command. That wasn’t good - at best, it meant she couldn’t tell them about what her scouting had uncovered.

Seemingly every person in the town had been turned into an underdressed, oversexed, brain-dead bimbo. They roamed the streets in… what would the term be for a group of bimbos? A pack? A gaggle? An orgy? In any case, they walked around the streets, frequently fucking, and sucking and whatever else it was that bimbos did all day.

So, options. The streets were right out - if she got caught she’d probably get taken by a group and turned into one of them. She was fairly sure their exit was compromised. She had to find a way to sneak around unseen, so… sewers it was.

No reason for any of them to go down there meant no reason she would be found. Which was why she’d spent two hours in the surprisingly clean sewers. At this point, she didn’t expect to make it out - but what she could do was find whatever was blocking signals from going out, and get the word out. Warn the agency to send everything they had, in force. So she oriented herself towards that mysterious factory and walked.

Soon, she found an area where the factory’s waste would go - and found it mostly clean. The factory must have been a front - the real base was underground… where she was. Instead of a dead end, she found a door into what must have been the base. It had a keypad lock, but thankfully, she had just the tool to deal with it - she took it out of her briefcase and attached it to the lock…

“Intruder alert!” A synthetic feminine voice said, sounding surprisingly cheery. “Unauthorized access detected! Deploying countermeasures!”

Caitlan heard a sound behind her. Back down the tunnel, a grid of pink lasers had shot out and was rapidly coming towards her. She swore under her breath, and tried to make the unlocking device go faster.

The lasers came, closer, closer - she could see the reflected glow on the wall in front of her, could feel the heat near her back, when the keypad beeped and the door slid open. She leapt through the door, avoiding the lasers at her back-

And diving right through the secondary laser grid on the other side.

Caitlan staggered to her feet, blinking and looking around. She put a finger to her pouty lips in confusion, her other hand twirling her long blonde hair. Like, where was she? There was a distinct lack of people to have sex with. Didn’t she have a job to be doing? In a flash, the lasers had turned her from a professional, stealthy spy, to just another bimbo.

She was just trying to figure out where she was going when the lasers swept over her again. Katie giggled as her clothes burst open, unable to contain her new melons and peaches, leaving the bimbo in tatters. Her thoughts dripped right out of her mind and into her tits, her former brainpower fueling her bimbofication. Whatever it was, wasn’t important. What was important, was finding some girls to chatter up, maybe eat out. She was sure-

The beams swept over her again. Kat fell to her knees, unable to prevent herself from masturbating her sensitive, drenched cunt. She was so horny! So, so horny! Why was nobody there to help her? She was a good bimbo! The best bimbo! The biggest-

Sweep. Sweep. Sweep. Sometime later, a bimbo found the lasers had been activated and came to turn them off, eager to find who they’d caught. They weren’t disappointed, when they were jumped on by a woman with basketball sized tits and an ass you could get lost in, with an expression that made it abundantly clear that whatever tiny brain was left bouncing around in her skull, it didn’t have room for anything but sex.

Caitlan was gone, and in her place a bimbo who knew nothing - not her name, her identity, not anything except the words fuck and suck, and who couldn’t even conceive of it being any other way. She had been a bit overcooked, perhaps, but the new living sex toy would find ample use in her new abode, her insatiable lust satisfying dozens of bimbos daily.

In the command center, a woman checked off the day’s production. Bimbo minions, sex toys, some more bimbofication tech - she’d had a busy day. Serenity was enjoying having the town to herself, and having her pick of the sexy women who now inhabited it exclusively. Being the only one left with a brain let her feel nice and powerful, and she liked to relax by tallying off whatever was accomplished that day. Soon, she’d be drawing in new victims by the dozens, stupid young men and woman looking for some consequence free sex and never leaving again, added to her throngs.

She didn’t even notice that she already had three more bimbos than she had yesterday. She felt quite safe, really - everyone underestimated bimbos just because they were usually so dumb. It made them so very satisfying to take.

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Patron commission for Director, sequel to their previous commission "Seeking Serenity"