Bimbo-Fiction

Nadia peered into the sunlight towards the photographer, as well as her coach, publicist and other hangers-on that were assembled on the court below. 

“Gorgeous! Lovely! Okay, chin forward just a bit. And a little to the right. Beautiful!” The photographer bantered as the camera clicked repetitively. 

Nadia hadn’t been a fan of these photoshoots initially, but they’d become one of her favourite things. There was something delightful about having everyone’s attention glued to her. If she was honest, it even made her a little turned on. 

The photographer lowered his camera, seemingly satisfied, while Nadia minced down the steps to the ground in her heels, joined by her coach, Mr. Corluka. “Ready for training time?” He asked with a smile. “You’re already an hour late!”

Nadia rolled her eyes. “Ugh, yeah. I guess so.” She’d found training sessions so boring recently. Training had been a welcome respite for her to focus her efforts solely on improving her game. However, her time spent training just didn’t compare to the parties, photoshoots and fashion shows that had come with success. 

Nadia reluctantly headed towards the locker room and emerged a while later to a smattering of hoots and hollers from a group of fans courtside. She flounced over to them in her pink training minidress to sign some autographs and pose for a handful of selfies. 

Finally, she joined Mr. Corluka on the court for a series of serving exercises, as the She’d been trying to add a cute little wiggle of her ass to each serve for the photographers, but she just couldn’t seem to do it consistently. She focused on each stroke, ignoring the whistles and catcalls of the crowd nearby. They were always so supportive during training, she thought. 

After a series of drills, Nadia began to lose interest. What was the point of all of this training? She’d lost her last three matches and she was more popular than ever! She wandered over to her bag and retrieved her phone, which was blowing up with invitations to a smattering of nightclubs that evening. 

“Yeah!” Nadia yelled after the ball clipped the line and sailed past her opponent for an ace. 

“Forty-Love. Match point: Sabina,” the chair umpire intoned over the din of the crowd. 

Nadia glanced reflexively towards her box and noted her coach’s stern expression. It’s not over yet, he seemed to be saying to her. She regained her focus, pushed her racket high into the air and smashed another serve into her opponent’s court. It was returned weakly, and Nadia comfortably slapped a forehand into the open court to seal the victory. 

Only then did her coach flash a smile. 

It had been a whirlwind six months, Nadia thought, as she waved and blew kisses to the crowd, gathered her bag and disappeared into the clubhouse. After switching coaches and making a few adjustments to her game, the wins had started to pile up. Her ranking was increasing every week, and suddenly she found herself the centre of attention. 

It turned out that Mr. Corluka was a rather astute business manager as well. Every week he seemed to be telling her about this endorsement or that sponsorship. There had been photoshoots, press conferences and autograph sessions. 

Even her outfits for each match were selected by a stylist. Nadia wasn’t a big fan of the pink colour of today’s outfit, but then she only cared about range of movement, which the tank-top and skirt provided admirably. 

“Ah, my dear, a wonderful victory - yes?” Mr. Corluka greeted her with a hug as she emerged from the changing room. “Backhand though, little off at times. We talk about that later though. Now we have press. Then back to hotel for reception.”

Nadia rolled her eyes. “What? Another reception? I think I’d like a chance to rest before the semi-final.” 

“No, nonsense. You will enjoy this reception. You’ve been looking forward to it all day. Your dress is laid out on hotel bed,” he replied dismissively. 

Nadia shrugged. “Alright, fine. I guess I was looking forward to it,” she admitted. She never knew how she felt about these receptions. She seemed to vacillate between dreading them and enjoying them. 

They entered a small press room where a group of photographers and reporters had gathered expectantly. Nadia took her seat and began the ritual of answering questions: yes, her opponent was a great competitor; no, she didn’t feel any added pressure at this stage; yes, she feels confident heading into her next match...she could do it in her sleep at this point.

“Ms. Sabina,  there has been some criticism of the style choices made by you and other rising stars on the tour, particularly their tight fit and bright colours. Any comment on that issue?”

Nadia paused and glanced towards Mr. Corluka, uncertain. “Umm...I’m sorry - that’s a new one for me!” The assembled media chuckled. “I really only care about how comfortable my outfit is and how it allows me to perform. That’s why I’m here right?” She glanced at Mr. Corluka again. “And if I look cute doing it, then all the better, I guess?” 

“Argh!” Nadia hollered as she smashed a forehand volley past her opponent and down the line. She wiped her face with the sleeve of her t-shirt, mopping up the sweat glistening from the beaming Florida sun radiating down on the court. 

“Well, that’s the match,” her opponent conceded with a shrug as they both headed towards their trainers on the sidelines. 

Nadia nodded. She knew Rachel would be disappointed given that she had beaten Nadia regularly just a few months ago. That was the nature of tennis though - everyone developed at their own rate. It wasn’t Nadia’s fault that she was more determined than Rachel, though it always made for an interesting dynamic when they were training together as a group. 

“You’ve really improved the placement of your backhand,” Rachel remarked as they headed towards the tantalizing shade of the bleachers nearby, as friendly as always. 

“That’s been my focus for the last few weeks. Well, that and my serve.” Nadia agreed. “The serve is still a bit of a work in progress, I guess.” She rolled her eyes, recalling several double-faults. 

“Well, you’re in better form than I am at the moment,” Rachel said, with a grimace. “Tatyana, Maria and I were going to grab some lunch this afternoon. Did you want to come along?”

Nadia shook her head. “Thanks, but I think I’m going to work on my service game a bit more while I’m in that head space.” Meals together were always so awkward after one of the trainees had beaten another. 

As they parted, Nadia headed back towards the court with a wire basket of tennis balls, and slowly began hitting them over the net, one after another, focusing on maintaining her precise form. She needed every muscle to be in an exact position to maximize speed and accuracy. 

It was only after 15 minutes that she realized she wasn’t alone. In the shade of the bleachers stood an older man in a baseball cap watching intently. She finished hitting the last ball, and then barked to the sideline: “Can I help you?” 

He emerged from the shadows, a tall, lithe figure with salt and pepper hair, wearing shorts and a windbreaker. “Your arm is still too tight when you serve. It’s getting better, but you’re still trying to accelerate with your arm, not your shoulder.” He had an eastern European accent that Nadia couldn’t trace. 

“Well, thanks for that - random man on the sidelines,” she sneered. It wasn’t the first time she’d received unsolicited advice from someone. 

...a little while later...

“Juulliiaa...oh, Juulliaa,” echoed down the hallway followed by a fit of giggles before Amina rolled around the corner and stumbled into Julia’s disheveled office. She tottered over the worn carpet with her towering heels before slumping into a chair, ignoring the panties, shoes and associated detritus slung over it. “I love suckin’ ‘ock,” she slurred, to no one in particular.

Julia giggled as she noticed Amina’s nipple had escaped her skin-tight sequined tank top. She was such a card! “You’re drunk again, aren’t you? Probably fucking Tim, right? Cuz he has the vodka in his office?” Julia was a little bit miffed, cuz she was planning on fucking Tim this morning too, but she could never stay mad at her bestie.

“You got me!” Amina broke out in another fit of giggles. “I din’t mean to though! I was jus’ going to check Tim’s offish for something computery for Brad, but then I couldn’t member what it was. So, umm... I jus’ fucked Tim instead.” She smiled lopsidedly and started rummaging through her purse.

Julia hated when that happened. She was always forgetting what she was doing, especially if there was a hot guy around. No one ever seemed to mind though, as long as she kept them happy in other ways. That’s just how things work, right? 

“Are you going to the meeting tomorrow? They’re doing something called a re-org-an-iz-ation.” Julia sounded out the word and looked blankly at Amina. “I dunno what that means though!”

Amina distractedly pushed out her tits and posed for a quick selfie before returning to her texting. “Yeah, I dunno. I just go if someone tellsh me to.” 

Julia nodded. It was way easier not to worry about that sort of stuff and just do whatever they asked. Julia posed in the mirror and examined her gauzy top and short teal skirt. She looked hot - probably one of the hottest girls in the whole office. Smooth tanned legs, tight ass, meticulous make-up... but her examination was cut short by the ringing of her office phone. 

“Hi!” Julia answered eagerly. 

“Uhm, hello. Quick accounting question for you,” the voice on the other end indicated, before launching into a rambling question. Ugh, Julia hated these random calls about accountening, or whatever. She didn’t know why they kept calling her about this stuff. 

She waited until the voice had stopped rambling. “mmkay, so, like, I’m gonna make a note that you, umm... called, and have someone who knows about this stuff call you back, kay?” The voice started to ramble again, so Julia just hung up. Amina was still busily texting and seemed not to have noticed.

“So girl,” Julia said, licking her lips, “wanna go see if Brad’s interested in a threesome?” 

...a little while later...

“Oh my god! Julia! There you are!” Amina exclaimed as she strutted into Julia’s office and embraced Julia in a friendly hug. “I’ve been looking for you all morning!” She tossed some stray clothing and shoes from a chair and sat down opposite Julia. It occurred to Julia that she really must tidy her office sometime, but when she looked for her calendar it didn’t seem to be handy. 

“Oh, ya, the guys had me over in HR this morning for some meetings. Plus Colin’s got, like, this big presentation coming up so he and I had a quickie in his office, right?” Julia replied. She’d never been one to have sex at work, but she and Colin had been hooking up pretty regularly over the last month. There was something about getting fucked from behind while bent over his desk that just made her melt. It helped that she’d stopped wearing panties a few weeks ago.

“Aww...that’s so sweet!” Amina remarked earnestly. “Brad and I tried that a few times but people kept walking into IT and interrupting. I usually just blow him under the desk now cuz no one can see that way!” Amina’s tits were exploding out her tight pink blouse as usual, Julia noticed. She wished she had tits like that for Colin. He seemed pretty happy with her pink minidress this morning though.

“Hey did you see we have another one of those work thingies on Saturday?” Julia asked while rummaging through her purse for her compact. 

“Really? No, I like, left my phone somewhere so I haven’t checked my e-mail today yet.” Amina replied, unconcerned. “I don’t get what the point of these things are anyway. We just sit in a room watching a video and then leave. It doesn’t even build teamwork or whatever.” 

“Yeah, totally,” Julia agreed, “but at least we get paid!” She added while focusing on touching up her eye make-up. “That VP Finance girl that’s always wearing the ugly pants, I think her name’s like Kim or something, was trying to organize some sort of boycott of it. I told her its only like a couple hours in the morning and she shouldn’t make such a big deal about it.” People like that could be so annoying, Julia thought to herself. Refusing to follow the dress code and trying to get out of work. So lazy. 

“Yeah, I’ve seen her around. I think she walked in on me and Brad last week, but she just left without saying anything,” Amina said. “Anyway, I’m gonna skip lunch and go shopping. I totally want to get some colorful shoes - like pink and purple and stuff.”