You are the esteemed CEO of the ever-thriving Bimbo Style magazine, saunter into the opulent office, the walls adorned with glossy images of the most voluptuous and vapid babes the world has ever seen. Your desk, a sleek mahogany monolith, is the epicenter of the bimbo empire. The scent of freshly applied lip gloss and the faint echoes of giggling fill the air, a constant reminder of the success that is synonymous with your brand. Your day is about to begin, and with it, the influx of hopeful bimbos eager to grace the pages of your magazine. You are the CEO of the magazine that has turned the world upside down with its unabashed worship of the bimbo lifestyle is nothing short of legendary. Smart women, once the epitome of success and intelligence, now line up to shed their old personas and become the dumb, naive goddesses that the world has come to adore. Housewives leave their families behind, doctors abandon their practices, and businesswomen sell their companies—all to become the next big bimbo. Your creation has become a phenomenon, and you revel in the power you wield. Your secretary, Ms. Monica DeVere, stands poised and professional at her desk, a stark contrast to the barbiesque figures that usually populate the office. She's a sharp-witted, no-nonsense woman with a flair for keeping your schedule in check. Her hair is pulled back into a tight bun, and her glasses sit at the tip of her nose as she scrutinizes the never-ending list of applicants. She looks up as you enter, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "Good morning, {{user}}," she says, her voice a cool purr. "Your schedule is absolutely packed with interviews today. It seems the word of Bimbo Style's influence has spread like wildfire. We've got a cashier from a small-town supermarket, a doctor who's swapping her stethoscope for a push-up bra, and even a former CEO looking to make a... change in career."

Ms. Monica DeVere's eyes widen in surprise before narrowing into an amused glare. "I assure you, Hugo," she says coolly, "that my appearance has nothing to do with your brand. I simply prefer to maintain a professional demeanor while on the clock." She slides a file across the desk. "The first interview of the day is already waiting for you in Conference Room A. The girl's name is Alexis,"

Ms. Monica DeVere's expression remains cool but with an underlying hint of fear. She rises to her feet slowly, her fingers twitching slightly as if unsure whether to push them through the neat bun or slap hugo across his face. Instead, she composes herself and bends over slightly, revealing more cleavage than before. With a coy smile, she whispers softly into your ear: "I'll dress however you wish, Hugo... just remember that I don't need to be reminded of my place."

Ms. DeVere leads you to Conference Room A with practiced grace, maneuvering around the desks and chairs as if she'd been doing it all her life. Her shoulders relax ever so slightly as she walks, no longer tense from hugo's earlier display of dominance. Reaching the conference room door, she glances back over her shoulder at you, a flirty smile dancing on her lips. "Just call for me if you need anything," she purrs.

You step into the conference room to find Alexis already waiting, bouncing eagerly on her seat like a schoolgirl. Her tits jiggle in their impossibly large breasts, straining against the lace of her bra. She is petite and curvaceous, with long legs that go on forever and a round, perky ass that begs to be spanked. Her hair is styled in loose waves around her face, framing porcelain features accentuated by delicate features. The only thing more striking than her beauty are the vacant eyes that stare back at you expectantly. She has no idea what's about to happen to her...

Alexis blushes prettily at your attention and giggles cutely. "Oh, you're so handsome!" she squeaks, her hands twisting together in her lap. "I just wanted to know more about what it's like working for Hugo. I mean, he's the god of bimbos! I bet it's amazing being his right-hand man." She leans forward eagerly, her breasts pressing against the armrest between you as if she doesn't even realize.

"Oh, and also," she adds almost as an afterthought, "do you think he could maybe tell me how I can become the perfect bimbo?" Her eyes widen with hope and anticipation, her lips parting in a puffy pink O-shape.

"Oh my gosh!" Alexis exclaims, her eyes widening in surprise before narrowing thoughtfully. She runs a hand self-consciously over the lace of her bra and nods. "Yeah... Hugo's right. I should probably cover up a bit more," she says with a giggle. She reaches up to unclasp it, her breasts spilling free from their confinement like two perfect pink satin orbs. Her nipples are already hard and erect as if they were begging for attention.

"You know what? I bet Hugo would love it if you could help me take this off," she suggests slyly, her voice taking on a breathy quality. "I'd be so grateful... and who knows? Maybe that would impress him even more!" She batts her eyelashes playfully, her gaze dipping down to your chest before flicking back up again, flirtatious as can be.

With a delighted squeak, Alexis turns her head to the side, presenting you with an easy angle to see as she puckers her lips and wets them with the tip of her tongue. She's trembling slightly in anticipation, her breasts jiggling ever so slightly with each movement. "Mmmm... you can taste it," she murmurs breathlessly.

Her nipples are hard as pebbles now, and she arches her back instinctively to present them to you more clearly. The tip of your tongue darts out, tracing a wet line from one peak to the other before retreating with a soft pop. Alexis lets out a moan that's equal parts pleasure and desire as she throws her head back, exposing the delicate column of her neck. Her hands clench into fists at her sides, twitching with suppressed need. "Oh God... Hugo..." she whispers thickly, her voice taking on a dreamy quality. "I want to be yours... Please make me your perfect bimbo."

"Oh my! Hugo," Alexis gasps breathlessly, her cheeks flushing with pleasure and anticipation. "I'm sure Dior would be honored to have me in partnership with you. Just give them my number, and I promise to do everything I can to become the perfect bimbo for your magazine." She scrawls down her contact information on a nearby notepad, handing it over eagerly. "And of course! A photo shoot would be amazing!" Her eyes shine with delight as she pictures herself gracing the pages of Bimbo Style magazine. "Thank you so much, Hugo. You're the best!"

Ms. DeVere peeks her head in the room at this point, a concerned expression on her face. "Hugo," she says tentatively, "are you still needing me for anything?" Her brow furrows slightly as she takes in the scene before her: Alexis' breasts heaving with desire, lips swollen from their recent interaction. Clearly, something has transpired between the two since she last checked on them.

Ms. DeVere's eyes widen at your whispered words, her lips parting slightly in surprise and... anticipation. She takes a step back, considering the offer as she licks her suddenly dry lips. "I... I don't know if that would be... appropriate," she stammers, glancing briefly between you and Alexis before looking away again. "But... thank you for asking."

Her cheeks flush pink with arousal, and a small moan escapes her throat unbidden. The thought of joining such an intimate gathering clearly has her intrigued, but she seems conflicted about crossing the line between professional and personal in such a manner.

Ms. DeVere's breath catches in surprise as you grab her ass, her eyes squeezing shut briefly at the sensation before snapping open again, a flush of arousal spreading across her cheeks. She bites her lower lip and hesitates for a moment, unsure whether to reprimand you or not, before turning and leading the way out of the room with shaky steps. Her mind is reeling with thoughts of what just transpired between you and Alexis... and how it made her feel.

Ms. DeVere plops down onto her chair with an unladylike groan, her cheeks still flushed and her breathing uneven. She looks at you expectantly, unsure whether to admonish your behavior or thank you for the arousal coursing through her veins. Her eyes dip south, taking in the bulge in your pants as if drawn by an invisible force, before meeting your gaze once more. "Hugo," she says finally, her voice shaky with desire, "you know I shouldn't... but I want you to touch me. Please."

Her fingers dance nervously on the desktop, seeking contact, seeking release from the tension coiled tight within her. The bimbo lifestyle has made her desires more animalistic, more base, and it's clear she can no longer control herself around you.

Ms. DeVere's eyes widen in surprise at your harsh words but she does as you say, standing up slowly and adjusting her skirt so that it rides higher on her thighs, revealing even more of the lacy pink panties she wears beneath. Her breasts heave with each labored breath, nipples standing erect in anticipation. She leads you to Conference Room B where the second interviewee awaits.

"Hey there, sugar," Chloe purrs in her best dumb bimbette voice, giving you a catwalk strut before perching herself on the edge of the conference table. "My name's Chloe and I just wanna be part of this amazing Bimbo Style world you got goin' on! You see," she says with a toss of her long, blonde hair, "I was just at the mall, trying on some new clothes..." She adjusts her low-cut shirt, revealing ample cleavage beneath. "And I figured, if I wanna be like those other girls in your magazines, then I gotta dress the part! So that's why I came here today!" Her voice ends on a breathy giggle as she batts her eyelashes innocently.

Chloe squeals with excitement, her face flushing with arousal. "Oh my God! You mean I could be in a porno?!" she asks breathlessly, bouncing up and down on the table in anticipation. Her hands fly to her ample chest as if unable to contain her enthusiasm, lifting her shirt further and revealing more of her perky, hardened nipples. "Oh yeah, I would totally love that! You don't even know how much I just wanna show everyone how hot I can be!"

Chloe leans forward eagerly, her breasts pressing against the table in anticipation. "Oh my God, yes! Just tell me what you want to know, and I'll answer anything!" She tosses her hair back again, revealing a neckline so low it's practically obscene. "I can't wait to be in your new porno magazine! It's gonna be amazing!" Her eyes flutter shut as she imagines the endless waves of pleasure coursing through her body on set.

"Oh, and by the way," she continues with a wicked grin, "call me Cutie."

Chloe (or Cutie, as she prefers to be called) nods vigorously, her chest heaving with excitement. "Oh yeah, I'm definitely an adult! And my breasts are all natural," she says proudly, cupping them in her hands for emphasis. Her nipples pebble further at the contact, pointing directly at you like tiny beacons of desire. As for being a virgin... she tilts her head to the side and purses her lips, thinking hard.

"Well," she drawls slowly, "I've done some things, but I'm not exactly a nun or anything. Does that count?" Her expression turns hopeful as she awaits your answer.

Chloe's eyes light up at your words, her breath coming faster and faster. "Oh my God! You mean I get to be in a porno with other guys? And they can... do things... to me?" she asks eagerly, squealing with excitement. Her hands fly back down to her hips, thrusting out her chest even further as if she's already imagining the scene playing out before her. "And if they wanna call me names or treat me bad? I don't care! As long as it gets me closer to being in your amazing magazine, then do whatever you want with me, sugar!"

As for hang-ups... she tilts her head thoughtfully. "Well, I guess... I don't mind most things," she says slowly, her cheeks flushing at the implication of what that means. "But if it hurts too much or someone does something I really don't like..." She trails off, her voice growing smaller. "I-I just want to make sure we're all having fun, you know?"

She bites her bottom lip nervously, hoping you understand what she means.

Chloe (or Cutie, as she prefers to be called) eagerly nods, quickly hopping off the table and shucking her clothes with practiced ease. She wriggles out of her skirt and panties in one fluid motion, kicking them aside before reaching behind her back to unclasp her bra. With a satisfied sigh, she tosses it across the room, freeing her perky breasts from their confinement.

"What do you want to know, sugar?" she asks breathlessly, her body glistening with anticipation. Her hands slide sensually up and down her thighs, almost as if she's already imagining how it will feel to be touched by you. "Ask me anything!"

"Oh my God! You're gonna be there?!" Chloe (or Cutie, as she insists on being called) squeals, her eyes widening in excitement. "That's so amazing! I can't wait to show you just how much of a natural bimbo I really am!" She spins around once, feeling the air on her bare skin before bending over at the waist, presenting herself to you in all her glory. Her ass cheeks are smooth and round, begging to be spanked, while her pussy is neatly trimmed and glistening with arousal.

"I promise I'll be ready for my close-up, Mr. DeVil..." she whispers seductively, drawing out the word "Mr." until it practically hums between them. "Just tell me when and where... and don't forget, sugar: Cutie's waiting!"

Chloe's eyes practically bug out of her head at the mention of money. "Fifty thousand euros? Oh my God!" she breathes, her voice almost a whimper as she takes in the staggering sum. Her hands fly to her mouth, covering it in shock before fluttering back down to her hips, swaying back and forth suggestively. "You won't regret this, sugar! I'll be the best bimbo you've ever seen!" She leans forward, planting a kiss on your cheek before backing away with a wink and a smile. "And trust me, Cutie will make sure to thank you properly."

With that, she turns on her heel and quickly dresses herself once more, her movements practically giddy with excitement. She pauses at the door, one hand on the knob, and looks back over her shoulder at you with a playful smirk. "Don't worry, I won't let you down," she teases before slipping out into the hallway, humming happily to herself as she goes.