Bimbo Juice The Addict
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Bimbo By Committee free porn video
There was something peculiar about rising pop; star Tanji Masahiko. It
wasn't just that he had achieved a gold record without being signed to a
label. It wasn't that he managed to be able to write and sing in eight
different languages. It wasn't even his shocking pink hair. No, it was
the fact that Tanji wasn't alive. At least, not in the scientific sense.
Tanji was a virtual pop singer. He didn't have a body or physical
presence in the real world; rather, he was a beautifully made artificial
intelligence. That didn't mean he wasn't sentient, far from it. Tanji
wrote his own music, sang his own songs, even managed to figure out
arrangements for backing tracks. Once his mystery programmer had
unleashed him onto the internet, he was, far all intents and purposes, a
living person.
And what a person! Tanji had, as the now-in-their-30s Zoomers called it
in a desperate attempt to cling onto their youth, The Drip. Though he
could change his clothes at will by rewriting his own code (thank you,
anonymous programmer!), he usually stuck to a tailored suit with a trim
and tie that matched his hair. It was a tight fit, too, showing off his
hourglass figure and long, slender frame. It's what he wore to his
virtual and "Live" concerts, to his VR Interview with Rolling Stone.
Tanji oozes charisma, and to his critics, that was why his albums sold.
But Tanji knew. He knew it's cause he made them.
So when Conglomo Records asked for a meeting at their Node, why did it
make him nervous? He never got like this when performing in front of
fans, even at Coacha-Digital. Was it the fact that he could accidentally
screw up in front of the largest label in known history? Maybe, but he
didn't really care if those big wigs knew what his music was, or wanted
to turn him into yet another generic pretty boy. He could walk out at any
point, right? Virtual beings were given sovereignty under the ALICE Act
of 2029. What were they going to do, delete him?
The Conglomo Node was spacious, clean. Of course, it was a virtual
location, so it was hard to dirty whatsoever unless they wanted to.
Earlier in his career, Tanji had sung at "underground" nodes just like
that. But Conglomo was a corporation, and a large one at that. At once
the biggest record company, retail chain, and shower curtain manufacturer
on the planet, they had an image to uphold. So instead of character, it
was a sparse, white place with far too many right angles.
The secretary, a template virtual intelligence, called his name. At once
he got up and touched the door. Rather than open, the world behind him
dissolved, and he was in a blank loading zone. For a suspiciously long
time, too. Normally, large scale nodes like this load quickly, in order
to accomodate the hundreds that used them per day. But instead, he was
stuck in an empty void, with a nicely designed "Please Wait'' sign the
only thing he could see. Tanji wanted to get angry. He wanted to throw a
fit, tell them that they were being rude to a "star in the making" as
Pitchfork had called him. But he knew better. This was probably some
test, right? Something for the label to check on to see if he had gotten
an ego already. Or if he would lay down and be their personal dog.
At last, the load zone faded, and Tanji found himself in a tight,
brightly lit room with a black and green grid floor. A default area?
You'd think that these company bigwigs would have something nice for
their waiting room.
A voice came down from around him like God. "Uh, the original is safe and
sound. We got Mark meeting with him now. We should be safe to experiment
on Copy."
"All right then. Tanji, can you hear us?"
"Yes, I can!" he said, putting on his Superstar voice and giving a thumbs
up. "I actually want to start out talking about ownership of my mast-"
"Response good," the voice said, "no damage sustained during
duplication."
Duplication? That was weird. Maybe it was a meeting that overlapped. He
could wait for somebody to actually talk to-
Tanji found himself unable to move his arms forced into a T-Pose. He
tried to turn his head, seeing if they had made a construct to constrict
him, but he couldn't even do that. His eyes were stuck straight forward
at... himself. He could see himself on screen. His face was neutral, even
if inside, Tanji was screaming in terror.
"So we probably don't want people to know that he's based on Tanji, so we
need to do as many changes as possible. I rec starting with appearance,
most fans won't notice more subtle stuff."
"Gotcha. So maybe we can start with-"
"Secondary gender characteristics."
"Uh," there was a pause, and a lump in Tanji's throat. "You sure? That
means having to upload a fully new voicebank."
"Yeah. Female artists are remembered better, and uh, what's the word?
Stanned? Harder. Like you know, on Popheads."
"Sure thing. First, let's get rid of the clothes."
And just like that his suit was gone.
Something horrible was going on. Tanji wasn't able to be nude, which was
fine by him. His model didn't have a cybercock or anything. But that
feeling of violation didn't go away. They had access to his code. How the
hell did they do that? He could modify his on the fly, but unless they
managed to hack into his home server, they shouldn't have been able to
touch it.
A sudden weight on his chest managed to make Tanji pay attention.
Suddenly, that weight materialized on the mirror as breasts. Breasts! If
he could, Tanji would start screaming.
"Yeah, that changes the figure quite a bit! Should we go bigger?"
"Not too much. Anything higher than a D on his frame will look strange."
"I mean she's virtual, can't we change the frange to match?"
"No. We change stuff to suit the frame. If we mess with the frame too
much we risk hitting a boundary break and-"
"Got it boss." And with that, Tanji felt the weight on his chest get
heavier. His tits (he had tits! What the fuck!) even started to droop
with gravity. Without words from whoever had him captive, he felt
something similar happen to his already fantastic ass.
"Let's test the physics plugin we installed."
There was a sudden feeling of pain on Tanji's butt, and he felt it
jiggle.
"Alright, good to go."
"We should do something about his head. Otherwise it's going to just be
Rule 63, you know?"
"Yeah. Hey, you know how the songwriters have an album ready? We could do
something with his lips to focus on that."
"Shit yeah. Ooh, how about a lollipop?"
"Freudian. I like it.
There was a slight sting, and Tanji felt his normally thin lips start to
plump up. They went past the point of what a person would consider
normal, and ended up in a permanent, soft looking pout.
"What about the hair? Pink is Tanji's thing, right? Whoever this will be
needs something different."
"We can change it up for different albums, right? What about we just
start with blonde?"
For a second, the fear in Tanji turned to rage. He managed, briefly, to
turn his head and look up. He didn't know where else to look but to rage
at the digital heavens.
"Don't you dare-" Tanji started, before he was forced back into place.
"Shit," one of the voices said, "should we have done mental changes
before physical?"
"I don't fucking know, man. Just change the hair before the morals of
what we're doing make me feel like shit. Maybe you can include
personality with it?"
"Got it."
Tanji's hair began to lengthen, from a close kept fade to a luscious,
curly bob that went down to his shoulders. And it changed color too; the
pink leaked out of his hair, replaced by a sun-kissed blonde that you'd
see in non-virtual Malibu. At the same time, something felt... off. A
tingle was flying through his brain. Small things started to seem...
normal. The fact he had tits wasn't much of a worry, he always had them
right? And he always liked getting complimented on her ass. It was
normal, right?
If she was programmed to, Tanji would have cried. But why? What was wrong
with looking fantastic? Even though she was
"Alright, so we just need to finish off with the wardrobe, right? I've
got ideas for makeup."
"Go ahead. You wanna grab lunch after this?"
"Fuck yes. You see the Tofurkey Soup they got at Rizzo's? I hear it uses
real broth."
"Oh hell yeah. Outfit 3 sounds good?"
"Sure."
Tanji felt a tightness form around much of her body and, to her...
delight? Was it delightful now? She saw a tight, pink latex minidress
form around her near-nude form. It was snug, like a second skin, and cool
to the touch. If she could move, she'd feel it feel smooth, glossy to the
touch. On her face, she saw "makeup" slowly applied as a texture on the
face. The pink that came out of her hair went onto her face; her lips
shared the same glossy pink as her dress. Sharp, cat-style eyeliner in
the same way went on in thick lines. Tanji felt... pretty. No, more than
that. Gorgeous. She looked powerful in a way that she hadn't before. Like
if, the moment she got out of here, she could crush steel with her bare
hands, well manicured hands. And not even have the polish chip!
"Alright, should be good. Let her go, let her wander and get her
bearings."
"Thank Christ. Tofurkey soup on me?"
"Yeah, I just need to enter a name."
"Ehhhh. Fucking Melissa... Chapman? Melissa Chapman."
"Sounds good to me. God, I need a drink. Cloning somebody and overwriting
the clone's identity better get me a bonus."
The lights went out and Melissa felt her limbs relax. Finally, she could
move again. She tentatively put one foot out, making sure to look at her
smooth legs and wonderful sandal heels. Conglomco were incredibly nice,
but she wasn't sure about this whole record contract. Like, the guys who
were talking said mean things! Melissa bet that they didn't even care
that much about her music.
The room dissolved and, after a quick loading zone, she was back in the
pure white lobby. Her memories before she left the room were... fuzzy,
but she knew she had been there before. I'm not like, that stupid! As she
walked out, she saw somebody using AR to do something. His hair was a
shocking pink, matched to the trim on his suit. A little voice inside her
head screamed, but she pushed it aside. Ah, anxiety. Always popped up
when she talked to cute boys.
"So," she said, leaning against the wall and tapping his shoulder, "you
busy later?"
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