Lost In The Beat - Bimbofication TF Caption (Patreon)

An agent sent to scout out a nightclub for a Person-of-Interest carries out her job, unaware of the snares tightening around her until it's too late...

Transcript :

Sarah was one of the Agency’s best operatives, able to work a multitude of jobs ranging from simple sneaking missions to complex saboteur runs. If it was on the list, she had done it at one point or another in her extensive career.

Which had her confused to find that she had been assigned to a reconnaissance mission one fateful Sunday evening, a mission rookies were assigned to, and at a nightclub no less. Sarah never liked the buzz of the city’s nightlife so finding out she was going to have to spend a week in it was enough to put a damper on the rest of her weekend.

It had been a simple affair waltzing in there under a false identity, but now came the agonizing task of scouting out the place for a POI that the Agency knew frequented the place. Taking a relatively silent corner of the seedy establishment where the obnoxious techno music from the speakers overhead couldn’t pound her brain into oblivion, frowning in disgust at all the strippers and thugs that crossed her path.

But despite the relative shelter her cozy corner provided, the loud music, glaring neon lights and swaying bodies on the dance floor was beginning to eat away at her psyche, eventually affecting her focus on the mission, not even noticing the suave man that had slid beside her uninvited until she felt his coarse hands rubbing her shoulders. It didn't even occur to her to check her drink as the man passes her a shot glass, downing the bitter stuff in one go with a pleasant tingle spreading from her belly.

She still had enough common sense to ignore his advances though, so by the time dawn broke and the first night was over, Sarah had left unscathed if a little jolted, save for the for the strange sensation spreading throughout her body as she slept through the entire day in preparation for the next night, unaware of her boyish hair beginning to grow with her body becoming just a tad bit more alluring.

On the next run though, Sarah would find herself accepting that drink again from the unknown man who was beginning to come onto her as she idly sipped away at a second shot while he rubbed her shoulders without complaint. Finding herself unable to resist as she asks for a third refill, her deteriorating mind and body fading rapidly from concern with each gulp of the delicious drink down her eager throat. Her brain pulsing pleasantly with each beat from the deafening speakers above. All the while her body continued to lose its toned physique, gaining tender meat and soft fat for each ounce of muscle she lost.

After the third night, she had traded her comfortable business suit for a cocktail dress reserved for expensive hits despite it not fitting her tastes, finding herself compelled to do so after a bit of gentle persuasion from the dashing man she had begun to speak to after ignoring him for the past few nights, the disgust she used to feel when he massaged her shoulders gone with his rough hands kneading an exposed breast as she drank her worries away, pushing her lengthening blonde hair out of her slant eyes while her stud does it up in a cute bun, leaving just a bit to dangle down her lean shoulders as she gazes up through hazy eyes into his charming visage, locking lips as his hands grow more adventurous, roaming over a rotund belly devoid of abs and a hairy lane leading down to a dripping snatch, eager to accept his fingers.

From then on, the Agency veteran would begin her downward spiral into depravity, no longer waiting for nightfall to frequent the club, abandoning her reports altogether, occupied by lessons from her newfound ‘girlfriends’ at the club. Tutoring the blossoming bimbo on how best to use her body on the dance floor and what she could do to get a man off fast, earning herself a booth in the changing rooms complete with her own set of makeup and sextoys with which to practice with. And practice she did…

By the time the fifth night had begun, Sarah was no longer the quiet shifty eyed woman that had wandered in that week, taking to the stage where girls she used to consider ‘slutty’ displayed their bodies much like what she was doing now; wearing the cocktail dress that could no longer hope to conceal her drastically altered physique with a massive pair of H cup melons bouncing wildly, knockout hips swaying from side to side and the impure visage of a seductress hypnotizing the audience below, as eager hands rose to grasp at her stocking clab porcelain legs, eliciting squirts of joy from the former agent’s puckering lips as she spins gracefully to the floor, rubbing her hearty derriere as money rains down around the prostitute spreading her legs for the men all around her.

Before a familiar man strides toward the vapid bimbo Sarah had been reduced to with a photo in his hand, placing it between her pillowy tits as she stares lifelessly at the image of a rather plain jane in a business suit, feeling a faint sense of familiarity before losing interest once she spots the heat packing in the man’s pants. Pulling the photo out of her cleavage before discarding it without a second thought, mimicking a blowjob with a practiced tongue and a suggestive shake of her dexterous hands as he smiles down at her with that charming face of his.

Sarah would never realize the ploy she had fallen into; that the assignment had been a trap, cutting her off from the Agency unaware the handler that had assured her everything was fine and to continue with the mission was the very same man whose cock was currently pushing its way down her throat after a quick transition to his private suite, releasing yet another sour load of spunk as it settles into a warm pleasant pool in her belly. The still solid rod popping free of her cushioned lips with a wet pop, the ire of lust in her eyes demanding more.

There wasn’t a hint of the tomboy from a week ago remaining in the buxom new babe on her knees in the throes of orgasm. If someone told her she used to be a top marksman, it would probably make her giggle a little, if she could even understand what a marksman was with how thoroughly her brain had been razed of the ability to process words outside of sexual terms.

And as she laid back over on the bed with her legs spread wide, a good dicking was all the happy little minx could think of…

“C’mon daddy, do me in my pussy! I’m still hungry~”