Short story idea from beginnerpornaddict: A member of BMBO lives in a very rich and elite neighbourhood. While heâs 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 wonât 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 youâll 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 donât 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 didnât have to ask the question as she launched straight into her spiel.
âDo 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. Thatâs enough to run, walk, cycle. Itâs unacceptableâ.
She flared her nostrils when she was passionate and unfortunately it wasnât 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.
âGod sheâs a nightmareâ, he cried, staring up to the heavens whilst gripping the sides of his sweaty, flustered forehead. âAlice, my own daughter, holding me hostage in my own home. There always has to be some protest, some fight and once it takes hold sheâs as stubborn as a child mid-tantrum.â
âGood luck with thatâ, I replied trying to end the conversation as I ushered out of the door.
âI know what you do you knowâ.
His words caused me to freeze.
âBMBO theyâre called arenât they. Iâve done my homework. âThat research you do on taming women, submitting them to your will, eradicating any notions they have of protesting or arguing. Iâd do anything, neighbour, anything. Iâd sell my house if you could take her awayâŚand my wifeâ.
âYour wife? Whatâs she done?â
âHell she encourages it, treats her like sheâs still a six year old. Sheâs nineteen. Just being expressive Tara says, trying to make a difference. Every time I protest she shuts me down with her endless nagging. Thereâs two of them. Iâm outnumbered, overruled.â
The guy looked and sounded pretty pathetic. If it was me Iâd 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 wifeâs mouth, locked in place so her whining translated into nothing but drool. Still thatâs easier said than done and BMBO makes that childâs play. Thatâs 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.
âYouâre right it wonât be cheap but not house selling expensive. Iâll raise it with the office and see what they can doâ.
Iâd never seen a guy fall to his knees before with so much joy across his face.
âYou might just have saved my life neighbourâŚand if you could bump them both up the queue as a priority maybeâŚâ
âIâll see what I can doâ, I repeated sternly.
As I headed back down the driveway her stubbornness followed me.
âI swear Iâm not getting off this car dad until you promise to get one of those electric ones. I donât care what they look like or how much they cost youâre choking the o-zone with this tank of a thing. And a bike, you need to buy a bike and running shoes andâŚâ
âIs it me or does my wife look younger than my daughter?â
It was the calmest Iâd 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.
âYour daughter looks a little olderâ, I answered stroking her blonde hair softly. âBut youâre right Tara is youthful. The labs have some age defying serum and along with their skin treatments theyâre able to produce the effect with ease. It will add to the price of conversion Iâm afraid but I trust youâre happy with the resultsâ.
I was a little surprised to see him shrug indifferently and concentrate on his drink. After a generous swig he shut his eyes peacefully.
âThe house has never been so quietâ, he whispered. âI never thought I could appreciate the sound of silence as much as thisâ.
âWe aim to please. We have your bank details. The fees will come out of your account on the third of every month. Iâll leave you to enjoy your familyâ.
In all my years at BMBO Iâd 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.
âOh, I donât want themâ.
I was convinced that I had misunderstood him.
âYou donât 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 errandsâŚâ
âNo I mean I donât want them here, I really donât. Banging and clattering and making noise. It will be unbearable. Do you want them?â
When I looked into his eyes I could see he wasnât 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.
âWell I could do with a live-in gardener in my grounds and your daughter might make for a good homeworker secretaryâ, I mused.
âWhy donât you give them a trial run and if you donât 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 withâ.
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 wouldnât want all the men coming to me for conversion favours.
âIâll take themâ, I muttered hastily.
âExcellent, good man. Run along now girlies and serve him wellâ.
The pair twitched as they passed me and I spanked their bare cheeks. I hadnât 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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