Short story idea from beginnerpornaddict: A member of BMBO lives in a very rich and elite neighbourhood. While he’s there one of his neighbours comes to him knowing generally what BMBO does and asks him if he can do something about his either spoiled or feminist daughter who won’t stop annoying him. And at the same time asks him if he can do anything about his wife as well.
I like to take a limo to work. In my line of business you never know when an impromptu meeting will occur or whether you’ll end up having some bimbo companions to ride with. The downside to that of course is that it raises suspicion. When I recently moved to the wealthiest part of town I wanted to remain discreet and inconspicuous but I failed in that spectacularly.
It all started when I was waiting for said limo outside my grand home. I felt like I was being watched and when I looked up and across the street I saw her. The girl was sat on the bonnet of the car on the driveway as if such an action was completely normal. I don’t know why I took the bait. She was cute and despite myself I was curious. I found my feet carrying me across the road towards her.
My expression must have spoken for itself. I didn’t have to ask the question as she launched straight into her spiel.
“Do you know the levels of emissions that come from a car like this? The number would make your eyes water as much as the fumes from the twin exhausts. He works twenty minutes away. That’s enough to run, walk, cycle. It’s unacceptable”.
She flared her nostrils when she was passionate and unfortunately it wasn’t attractive. It made me wonder what she would say when she saw my limo roll up. Luckily I had a reason to walk away.
The father of the household was cowering away in the hallway. Only his head poked out of the door followed by a hand that beckoned me inside. Groaning inwardly I nodded good day to the girl and headed over. Once on the threshold he guided me inside.
“God she’s a nightmare”, he cried, staring up to the heavens whilst gripping the sides of his sweaty, flustered forehead. “Alice, my own daughter, holding me hostage in my own home. There always has to be some protest, some fight and once it takes hold she’s as stubborn as a child mid-tantrum.”
“Good luck with that”, I replied trying to end the conversation as I ushered out of the door.
“I know what you do you know”.
His words caused me to freeze.
“BMBO they’re called aren’t they. I’ve done my homework. “That research you do on taming women, submitting them to your will, eradicating any notions they have of protesting or arguing. I’d do anything, neighbour, anything. I’d sell my house if you could take her away…and my wife”.
“Your wife? What’s she done?”
“Hell she encourages it, treats her like she’s still a six year old. She’s nineteen. Just being expressive Tara says, trying to make a difference. Every time I protest she shuts me down with her endless nagging. There’s two of them. I’m outnumbered, overruled.”
The guy looked and sounded pretty pathetic. If it was me I’d fling the girl over my knee, no matter her age, and spank all the feistiness out of her followed by a large gag in his wife’s mouth, locked in place so her whining translated into nothing but drool. Still that’s easier said than done and BMBO makes that child’s play. That’s when the guilt set in like charity ads on TV. The picture of his desperation, my thoughts on what it must be like to live there and the knowledge that I could make a difference nagged at me until I quickly relented.
“You’re right it won’t be cheap but not house selling expensive. I’ll raise it with the office and see what they can do”.
I’d never seen a guy fall to his knees before with so much joy across his face.
“You might just have saved my life neighbour…and if you could bump them both up the queue as a priority maybe…”
“I’ll see what I can do”, I repeated sternly.
As I headed back down the driveway her stubbornness followed me.
“I swear I’m not getting off this car dad until you promise to get one of those electric ones. I don’t care what they look like or how much they cost you’re choking the o-zone with this tank of a thing. And a bike, you need to buy a bike and running shoes and…”
“Is it me or does my wife look younger than my daughter?”
It was the calmest I’d ever seen him, slouching in a recliner with a generous amount of whisky in hand, swilling it around as he observed them. I stepped in front of his view for a closer view. The two were like robots, raunchy rag dolls kneeling in subservience, ready to spring into action at the command of a man. Their slinky bodies heaved softly in short sharp breaths both from the tightness of their attire and anticipated passion. They were and always would be ready for sex at any given moment.
“Your daughter looks a little older”, I answered stroking her blonde hair softly. “But you’re right Tara is youthful. The labs have some age defying serum and along with their skin treatments they’re able to produce the effect with ease. It will add to the price of conversion I’m afraid but I trust you’re happy with the results”.
I was a little surprised to see him shrug indifferently and concentrate on his drink. After a generous swig he shut his eyes peacefully.
“The house has never been so quiet”, he whispered. “I never thought I could appreciate the sound of silence as much as this”.
“We aim to please. We have your bank details. The fees will come out of your account on the third of every month. I’ll leave you to enjoy your family”.
In all my years at BMBO I’d never heard any master utter the next words that came out of his mouth. The guy might have been a little odd but he was full of surprises.
I was convinced that I had misunderstood him.
“You don’t have to fuck them, especially your daughter. Incest is frowned upon at BMBO but she can do chores for you or cook or scamper around doing errands…”
“No I mean I don’t want them here, I really don’t. Banging and clattering and making noise. It will be unbearable. Do you want them?”
When I looked into his eyes I could see he wasn’t drunk or compromised in any way. He really meant it. I was confident my team at the conversion centre had done a good job, the erection in his pants confirmed that, but his attitude was unheard of. His suggestion took me aback too.
“Well I could do with a live-in gardener in my grounds and your daughter might make for a good homeworker secretary”, I mused.
“Why don’t you give them a trial run and if you don’t like them I can always push them off onto one of the neighbours. Elderly Mr Quinn could do with some in house nurses or the young family at number 7 might like a nanny or a living doll for their girls to play with”.
My heart fluttered in panic. The last thing I wanted was for the whole street to know what I did and where I worked. As you can expect not everyone approves of us and I wouldn’t want all the men coming to me for conversion favours.
“I’ll take them”, I muttered hastily.
“Excellent, good man. Run along now girlies and serve him well”.
The pair twitched as they passed me and I spanked their bare cheeks. I hadn’t woken up that morning expecting to have two new girls in my service and I intended to test drive the new horny sluts the minute I got home.
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