When there is an occurrence of some events we are always required to send some custom gifts and also flowers to a friend or even a relative. Therefore one will be required to choose custom gifts and flower delivery services for this to be accomplished. An individual maybe be undecided on which custom gifts and flower delivery services to choose. Below is the discussion on the factor that one should consider when choosing so that they choose the required one.
The reliability of the custom gifts and flower delivery services should be a factor that one should consider. There are some services that when you choose them, you can rely on them hence you should ensure that you learn more on the services offered to determine if its reliable. An individual choosing custom goods and flowers delivery services they should choose the one that is reliable to be sure that they will be delivered at the right time.
When choosing custom gifts and flower delivery services, one should consider the cost that is charged for the services. The cost will be charged will differ from one provider to the other. Having more information about the prices that are charged for the services will enable one to compare the different prices. When you are done with comparing the prices, in the end, you will have come up with the one that is more affordable.
One should always consider the reputation of these services that are always offered when delivering the custom gifts and flowers. When you do something good, your reputation will always be good, and the same applies to the providers of these services. Therefore, one has to learn more and acquire more information about the providers of these services. You can always acquire more information from the individuals that have hired the providers before.
The trustworthy of the services that are offered is also a tip that will enable you to choose the preferred custom gifts and flower delivery services. If you are not sure whether the delivery will be on time or not you should not risk instead you should find the one that will ensure the delivery is on time. To be able to trust a given service, you should find their past clients who will be able to give you more info.


text:
.. _dojo/dom-prop:

=============
dojo/dom-prop
=============

:Project owner:	Eugene Lazutkin
:since: V1.7

.. contents ::
    :depth: 2

This module defines the core dojo DOM properties API. The convention for the return variable for this module is
``domProp``.

The *deprecated* legacy features are set in :ref:`dojo/_base/html <dojo/_base/html>`.

Features
========

.. _dojo/dom-prop#get:

get()
-----

Handles normalized getting of properties on DOM nodes.

Usage
~~~~~

.. js ::

  require(["dojo/dom-prop"], function(domProp){
    domProp.get("myNode", "innerHTML");
  });

Attributes
~~~~~~~~~~

======== ============== =====================================================
Argument Type           Description
======== ============== =====================================================
node     String|DomNode ID or reference to the element to get the property on
name     String         The name of the property to get
======== ============== =====================================================

Examples
~~~~~~~~

The following code gets the ``innerHTML`` property of a DOM node.

.. code-example::
  :djConfig: async: true, parseOnLoad: false

  .. js ::

    require(["dojo/dom-prop", "dojo/dom", "dojo/on", "dojo/domReady!"],
    function(domProp, dom, on){
      on(dom.byId("execute"), "click", function(){
        var output = domProp.get("example", "innerHTML");
        dom.byId("output").innerHTML = "Node example.innerHTML='" + output + "'";
      });
    });

  .. html ::

    <button id="execute" type="button">domProp.get()</button>

Hello World!

.. _dojo/dom-prop#set:

set()
-----

Handles normalized setting of properties on DOM nodes.

When passing functions as values, note that they will not be directly assigned to slots on the node, but rather the
default behavior will be removed and the new behavior will be added using ``dojo/_base/connect::connect()``, meaning
that event handler properties will be normalized and that some caveats with regards to non-standard behaviors for
onsubmit apply. Namely that you should cancel form submission using ``dojo/_base/event::stop()`` on the passed event
object instead of returning a boolean value from the handler itself.

Attributes
~~~~~~~~~~

======== ============== ========================================================
Argument Type           Description
======== ============== ========================================================
node     String|DomNode ID or reference to the element to get the property on
name     String|Object  The name of the property to get or a hash of name/values
value    String?        The value to be set
======== ============== ========================================================

Examples
~~~~~~~~

Using ``set()`` to set the value of ``innerHTML`` on a node:

.. code-example::
  :djConfig: async: true, parseOnLoad: false

  .. js ::

    require(["dojo/dom-prop", "dojo/dom", "dojo/on", "dojo/domReady!"],
    function(domProp, dom, on){
      on(dom.byId("execute"), "click", function(){
        domProp.set("example", "innerHTML", "Hello World!");
      });
    });

  .. html ::

    <button id="execute" type="button">domProp.set()</button>

I'm going to change!

Using ``set()`` to set multiple values in the same call:

.. code-example::
  :djConfig: async: true, parseOnLoad: false

  .. js ::

    require(["dojo/dom-prop", "dojo/dom", "dojo/on", "dojo/domReady!"],
    function(domProp, dom, on){
      on(dom.byId("execute"), "click", function(){
        domProp.set("example", {
          innerHTML: "Hello World!",
          class: "example"
        });
      });
    });

  .. html ::

    <button id="execute" type="button">domProp.set()</button>

I'm going to change!

  .. css ::

    .example { margin: 1em; padding: 1em; width: 300px; text-align: center; background: blue; color: white; font-weight: bold; }

See also
========

* :ref:`dojo/dom <dojo/dom>` - Core DOM API

* :ref:`dojo/dom-attr <dojo/dom-attr>` - DOM Attribute API

* :ref:`dojo/dom-class <dojo/dom-class>` - Dojo DOM Class API

* :ref:`dojo/dom-style <dojo/dom-style>` - DOM Style API

* :ref:`dojo/_base/html <dojo/_base/html>` - Legacy API aliases

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaGithub


text:
Marjorie Mae 'Marj' Larson
— Nov 14th, 2004
Marjorie Mae Larson
Marjorie Mae Larson, 81, of Bremerton died Oct. 31 in Bremerton after a long fight against lung disease.
One of three triplets born to Raymond and Hazel Lougheed, she grew up in Montesano learning to swim in the Satsop River, selling flowers and fireworks for extra money and enjoying salmon fishing and family picnics on the Wynooche River.
The Lougheed triplets, Marj, Patsy and Jim, took their shot at child stardom when they appeared as three little boys in a play in San Francisco, meeting western stars, Tom Mix and Leo Carillo. Their mother decided the demands of a career wasn't for her children and they continued to live a normal childhood, graduating in 1941 from Montesano High School where they were cheerleaders.
While staying at a cabin near the Tacoma Narrows with her family, Marj Lougheed met a soldier, Fred Larson, whom she married in 1941. During World War II, Mrs. Larson lived in Bremerton and worked at Puget Sound Naval Shipyard while her husband served with the U.S. Army in Europe for 1 1/2 years.
She will be remembered as a gracious homemaker and devoted mother who loved to decorate for the Christmas holidays and make others feel welcome in her home.
She was preceded in death by her husband in 1979 and by her siblings, Patsy Frazier and Jim Lougheed. Survivors include four children, Carol Schoneman and her husband, Noel, of Sammamish, Fred Larson and his wife, Wanda, of Boise, Idaho, Joyce Brown and her husband, Eddie, of New Meadows, Idaho, and Patsy Larson of Bremerton; two grandchildren, Marcus Brown and his wife, Amy, and Erik Brown; a great-grandson, Cade Brown; and close friends, Susie and Larry Rankin and their children, Aimee and Aaron.
No services will be held. Memorial donations may be made to a charity of the donor's choice.
MARJORIE NEAL Marj was the first full time Treasurer/Manager of the Kitsap County Public Employees Credit Union( formerly The City of Bremerton Credit Union). She started work at the Credit Union in January 1964 as the only employee. She retired in December 1979. Marj ... [Read More...]
Hazel Lougheed Hazel B. Lougheed, 98, of Bremerton died Dec. 24, 1996, at Oyster Bay Convalescent Center. She was born Aug. 29, 1898, in St. Louis, Mo. She married Raymond J. Lougheed in Montesano and was a homemaker. Survivors include a daughter, Marjorie Larson of Bremerton; seven grandchildren ... [Read More...]
Mr. & Mrs. Larson
Roy and Jean Larson Roy and Jean Larson of Bremerton will celebrate their 65th wedding anniversary with family on Dec. 17. The former Jean Gresser was born in Washington, D.C. She is a homemaker. Her husband was born in Kansas. He was an ... [Read More...]
Patsy Mullen
Patsy Ann Regina Mullen Patsy Ann Regina Mullen, 56, of Port Orchard died Tuesday at Harrison Hospital. She was born in El Paso, Texas, to Charles and Nova Dean (Bratton) Rhoads. She graduated from Big Spring High School in Big Spring, Texas, in 1966 and ... [Read More...]
OBITUARY FOR MARJORIE SANDUSKY FOR 10/11
Marjorie Sandusky Sept. 12, 1919 to Oct. 6, 2005 Marjorie Moree Sandusky, 86, of Bainbridge Island died Thursday with her family at her side. She was born in Ellensburg to Herbert and Mae Moree. Throughout her life, she enjoyed gardening, spending time with her family, vacations at their ... [Read More...]

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaCommonCrawl


Happy Monday! Ugh, this weekend went too fast. We hit up the KC Fish Fry on Friday like the good Catholics we are. Isla had a 9am soccer game on Saturday, so we were all up early. Her team won AND she got a goal! Sadly Jack's game was called due to weather just before they were scheduled to play at 11:45. Since we had an unexpected free afternoon, Brian and Isla went to look at cars, while Jack and I relaxed at home (okay, I took a nap) and then visited my parents.
Brian ended up coming home with a truck- which is exciting, but I was a tiny bit sad to say goodbye to our little Prius. It was the first car we bought together, how we brought both kids home from the hospital, etc. It was definitely time to trade it in… but she was a good car while we had her!
We spent most of Sunday cleaning out the garage. That's always a total beat down but at least now we can fit both cars in there. I'm honestly not sure that's ever happened before! And just in time too because the area got some pretty major weather last night (like baseball-sized hail). Thankfully we just had thunderstorms at our house, but we're ready just in case. Or until we trash the garage again.
Okay, so not to be dramatic- but this is LIFE CHANGING. I love, love, love the Trader Joe's cauliflower gnocchi and probably have 5 bags of it in our freezer right now. My only issue with it is that it can be tricky to cook. The instructions on the bag are garbage unless you like little gummy cauliflower balls, and I tend to burn the outside when I saute them in a skillet.
I'm not sure why I'm just figuring this out, but you can literally just throw them on a sheet pan and roast them in a 425 degree oven for 20 minutes or so (stirring after about 10 minutes). The outside gets a little browned and the inside stays soft. They are PERFECT. I think I cooked mine for more like 25 minutes.
The Rao's Arrabiata is my favorite, but it's a little spicy for the kids so I went with the marinara this time. I just sliced and browned the chicken sausage in a skillet, then added the sauce and mushrooms. Jack and Isla had penne and Brian and I had the cauli gnocchi.
So easy. And honestly just as fast as cooking them in the skillet (without having to babysit the pan). I roasted that big pan of asparagus at the same time.
We have an early, early meeting at school tomorrow so I'm off to bed. Night!


text:
class PatternTable:
    def __init__(self, start, size):
        self.start = start
        self.size = size


Scanners are devices that capture images from photographic prints, magazine pages, posters, and other similar sources for the purpose of computer editing and display. They bounce a light source against an image and convert the reflected light into a computer image. There are two primary categories for scanners: flatbed scanners and sheet feed scanners. The flatbed scanners operate very much like a copier, with a mobile light source while the scanned image is placed atop a glass surface. The sheet feed scanners have a special mechanism which uses rollers to pull the scanned paper past the scanner sensor while building the image. Due to advancements in technology, scanners can cost upwards of thousands of dollars; Taycor is here to help you fund your scanner purchase.
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text:
Home›EdTech News›Can real global learning happen online?
Can real global learning happen online?
This article was written by Chris Berdik
A student in Uganda communicates with her learning partners in New Orleans. Photo: Theo Niyirinda
This fall, after getting to know each other in online video exchanges, some Ugandan high school students told a group of students in New Orleans that most Ugandans have no reliable electricity and use candles or lanterns after dark. Over the following weeks, the students worked together to build solar-powered lights. An education technology startup called Level Up Village supplied both schools with solar cells, batteries and LEDs, along with 3-D printers to fabricate the housings, tutorials on electricity and computer-aided design, and an online workspace for posting notes and swapping ideas.
Global learning initiatives like this are booming, because the technologies that long made our world seem smaller are finally at the point where they can seamlessly make classrooms that much bigger. For years, educators have wanted to teach "global competency"—meaning a grasp of international issues and the ability to work with people around the world. Until recently, however, virtual border crossings were typically one-time extravagances pulled off in a handful of elite schools.
Now, growing computing power, accelerating broadband, social media and virtual reality are bringing global education to the masses. Schools are connecting and collaborating globally in all sorts of ways, ranging from Tweets and Skype sessions to full-blown online global learning platforms, most of which will be up for discussion in the webinars and keynote speakers of this week's online Global Education Conference.
"Kids will be global with or without us. They have contacts around the world, and they're using social media to connect about things they're passionate about," said Brandon Wiley, founder and president of the consulting firm GlobalEdLeader.
This kid-first vision drives The Wonderment, a free app enabling students around the world to creatively engage with each other, which the Salt Lake City nonprofit Kidnected World launched in 2014.
Wonderment users, students from 25 countries, post written and multimedia responses to creative challenges within a certain topic, such as "water saver," and those responses are linked with and commented on by other students. From this base of cultural sharing, ideas bubble up for things like community gardens and multicultural music festivals. Kidnected World plucks some of these ideas, such as making a mobile library for Guatemalan schools that lack books, and solicits funding to make them happen.
"It can be hard for kids to recognize something they want to change in the world and to see a way that they can actually help make that change. [Children don't have money or political power] but what they do have to offer is creativity, imagination and the willingness to collaborate."
Amy Shaffer, chief creative officer, Kidnected World
"It can be hard for kids to recognize something they want to change in the world and to see a way that they can actually help make that change," said Amy Shaffer, chief creative officer. Children don't have money or political power, she noted, "but what they do have to offer is creativity, imagination and the willingness to collaborate."
Schools and districts are rapidly hopping on the global bandwagon, partnering with nonprofits like iEARN and firms like VIF International Education, which offer digital tools and lesson plans, links to global learning projects and online professional development for "global ready" teachers.
For these initiatives, improving American students' woeful foreign language learning is a major focus. Outside of foreign language classes, however, many of the tech-based global education programs rely on the English skills of international students or their teachers, or hire subtitle services.
Even when everyone speaks the same language, it can be surprisingly tricky to get kids to interact online. In the pilot phase of Level Up Village, for example, which has connected about 4,500 students in the United States and 20 partner countries since it launched in 2012, the developers found that the student video exchanges that start its ten STEAM (STEM plus arts) courses were often lopsided.
"One kid would just talk about whatever he thought was cool without really asking the other kid about himself or answering his questions," said Neesha Rahim, who co-founded Level Up Village. As a result, teachers now give students a script of sorts and reminders to watch their partners' videos before recording their own.
Of course, while dialogue, brainstorming and creative problem-solving can go a long way in bridging cultural divides, some experiences are difficult to discuss and nearly impossible to comprehend without living through them.
"We tend to focus on regions that have the largest cultural gaps," said Abigail Finck, brand officer for Global Nomads Group. Every year, the New York nonprofit pairs thousands of North American middle school and high school students with students in Africa, the Middle East, central Asia or South Asia to collaborate on creative responses to global issues ranging from child labor to rising sea levels to stereotypes and discrimination.
In 2016, Global Nomads will add a virtual reality component to projects about war and genocide. Earlier this year, they completed the first of these, a virtual glimpse of the chaos and carnage endured by civilians caught up in the Syrian civil war, which some students from California experienced before video-conferencing with Syrian students living as refugees in Jordan.
"Young people in particular are moving very quickly and often interacting on social media platforms without reflecting."
Carrie James, research director for Harvard's Project Zero, which is overseeing a global student "walking parties" project
Ironically, one of the biggest online global education efforts, involving some 10,000 students in scores of countries, is all about slowing down, looking carefully, listening intently and thinking deeply about their own communities. Faculty at Harvard's School of Education are pairing classrooms around the world into virtual "walking parties," based on the seven-year walk around the world that Pulitzer Prize-winning journalist Paul Salopek began in 2013. Salopek's "Out of Eden" walk is a slow-paced journalistic world tour of listening, observing, mapmaking and storytelling that began in Ethiopia and will end in the southern tip of South America.
The international student "walking parties" check out multimedia snippets from Salopek's travels, and then take their own "learning journeys" with activities, such as creating multimedia maps of their neighborhoods that include visual, audio, or written stories from people who live there, or diagramming the web connections between themselves and the past. After posting their creations, the students spend some time reviewing and commenting on what their international partners have posted.
"We position our project in relation to our concern about the fast pace of all our lives, and how technology is complicit in that," said Carrie James, research director for Harvard's Project Zero, which oversees the initiative. "Young people in particular are moving very quickly and often interacting on social media platforms without reflecting."
At first, many kids kept that superficial style and littered each other's work with comments like "cool!" and "good story." Hoping to spur deeper reflection, James and her team added a "dialogue toolkit" in 2014—little icons suggesting, for example, that students "snip" a bit of another student's story to include in the comment box alongside their thoughts on it.
"My real hope is that the effect will transfer and change how students engage and interact with each other on Facebook, Snapchat and the rest," said James. "But that may be just a dream.
*This story has been corrected to note that, since 2012, about 4,500 students in the United States and 20 partner countries have been connected through the Level Up Village program.
This story was produced by The Hechinger Report, a nonprofit, independent news organization focused on inequality and innovation in education. Read more about Blended Learning.
Chris Berdik is a science journalist who has written about a wide variety of topics, including the intersection of science with ethical issues and the peculiarities of the human brain.
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text:
Consumer,Criminal
This Malaysian scam is scary... because you get called by the "PDRM" or "Bank Negara"
2017-10-20 UiHua
Good news! There's a Nigerian Prince who needs your help to transfer $5 million out of the country, and he will pay you $1 million if you help him!
While most of us can laugh when we see this in our inboxes (assuming it doesn't go straight to spam) thanks to warnings being posted on the internet, scams that attempt to get you to transfer money or part with your confidential information like banking passwords are still rampant - with people still falling for variations of the Nigerian Prince scam today.
However, Davina wasn't laughing when she received a call, supposedly from a local bank, which led to a two-and-a-half hour conversation with "police investigators" accusing her of being an accomplice in drug dealing activities.
More recently, an accountant lost RM510,000 to scammers claiming to be Bank Negara officers. It's very important to note that a core part of this scam involves getting victims to transfer money to them. If you ever get such a call, hang up and check with the relevant authorities or bank via their hotline number and NOT the one provided to you by the scammers.
This is the "Macau Scam", and they've conned Malaysians of RM2.7 million
On the front page of The Star's July 4th edition.
The Macau scam isn't new, with news of arrests going back to 2014. It would also not be a far stretch to assume that the scam is still ongoing despite the recent bust on July 4th.
It's important to note that scams are constantly evolving, and what's currently known as the Macau Scam bears some resemblance to IRS Scams in the US, where people impersonating Internal Revenue Service (tax) collection agents call up unsuspecting victims to inform them that they've either committed tax fraud or have unpaid taxes.
The scammers often go through great lengths to appear convincing, which in Davina's case extended to the point of spoofing the number of the Penang Police Headquarters and having a senior "Inspector" around for the specific purpose of scolding her for not understanding Bahasa. You can - and should - read the full account at the end of this article, reproduced with Davina's permission.
Here's a summary of what happened:
Davina receives a call from a debt collector from Hong Leong Bank in Penang, informing her that the bank will be taking legal action against her for not repaying a RM50,000 loan. Davina says she doesn't have such an account and the debt collector connects her to the police station in Penang to file a report. She speaks to a Sergeant who informs her the call will be recorded, and asks her to verify that the phone number is from the Penang Police Headquarters.
The Sergeant says that her name is associated in a drug bust, where over RM250,000 in drug money is untraced. Based on evidence and testimony from the arrested dealer, the police believe that she sold her IC and bank account details to drug dealers.
She's asked to reveal her current account balances (but NOT her passwords, because police don't have the right to ask for those details), and any money that wasn't declared can be used against her in court. The sergeant also warned her against discussing the case with others, as it might jeopardize the investigation.
The Sergeant that forwards Davina to his superior to explain her side of the story, but he scolds her for not understanding Bahasa before hanging up. The Sergeant then calls back and tells her that he believes she isn't involved and would like to allow her to help in the investigation. He gives her two choices - either cooperate with him without telling anyone, or be detained for interrogation at the Penang Police HQ for 45 days. He also reminds her that the punishment for drug dealing is death.
Of course, Davina chooses to cooperate. He says that because the bank will be suing her in an hour, she needed to quickly transfer all her money, from all her bank accounts, to the Magistrate's Court account for auditing. Of course, he will stay on the phone to guide her through the process. It's at this point Davina realizes that something fishy was going on and ends the call.
As these cons usually rely on exploiting human weaknesses like fear, greed, or ignorance to work; there may be common elements or factual errors that can serve as warning signs. We'll be looking at 5 of these elements that may save you a whole lot of heartache the next time you get a call from the "authorities".
On the legal end of things, we consulted with lawyer Fahri Azzat, who commented:
"Wow. What a scam! I'm impressed as much as I am appalled."
1. The authorities will never conduct an investigation over the phone
For illustration purposes only. Image from AllSingaporeStuff
Whether from the PDRM, Bank Negara, or LHDN, the authorities will not conduct an entire investigation over the phone, much less ask you to transfer "evidence" to them.
Fahri explains that while there's probably no law or procedure prohibiting the police from questioning you over the phone, it doesn't make sense for them to do so when they can use Section 111 of the Criminal Procedure Code to get you to show up at the police station for a statement.
"I have NEVER heard of questioning/investigating by phone by the police. They won't do it because they have to take down the statement in writing, print out the statement, have you read it, and sign it.
It does not make procedural or logistic sense to make such a phone call" - Fahri Azzat, in email reply to ASKLEGAL
However, scammers will try to establish a sense of legitimacy to prove that they are whoever they say they are. In Davina's case, this was done by the Sergeant asking her to not reveal banking passwords (which is actually correct), and asking her to Google the phone number to show he was calling from the police headquarters:
"He said check the number now on Google, to make sure we're calling trom Ibu Pejabat Kontingen. I should have had bells ringing at the time, but I didn't." - Davina, when contacted by ASKLEGAL
We should note that this doesn't mean the police were involved in the scam; the call was actually achieved using call spoofing, and it's been previously used in other scams involving calls from banks. Banks such as RHB have previously posted warnings about receiving calls from spoofed numbers.
2. Watch out for the Good Cop - Bad Cop setup
Image from 116Boyz
Good Cop - Bad Cop is an actual psychological technique used in various settings, from police interrogation to business negotiation; where the Bad Cop would break down the victim while the Good Cop is understanding and sympathetic towards the victim, establishing trust. The Good Cop then uses this trust to get what they need from the victim.
It should be noted that Good Cop - Bad Cop doesn't only involve scammers masquerading as the police. For example, one variation of the IRS scam targeting US immigrants would have the collection agent's manager insulting and threatening the victim with deportation before handing the phone back to the collection agent, who will promise to sort it out once the payment is made.
It's by coincidence that Davina's case involved literal cops:
I was forwarded on to explain my case to the Sergeant's superior, an Inspector, who responded rudely to me for not being able to speak in Bahasa, and hung up.
The Sergeant then called the Inspector back, with me still on the other line, to explain that he believed that I was not an accomplice and would like to allow me to help with the investigation.
3. If there's a time limit, it's time to end the call
Gif from Kotaku.
The scarcity principle is a technique commonly used in marketing, but is unfortunately also equally as effective in scams. You may have come across this as "limited time offers" - a once in a lifetime opportunity that will never be available again once the period expires.
This is effective on two fronts... that when something is limited, we tend to attach greater value to it - making us want it more. The second is that the short time frame doesn't give us the opportunity to sit down and logically think things through. In essence, it makes us more reliant on emotions rather than logical judgment, which usually doesn't bode well.
Hitman scam is a thing. Image from Zeltser.com
We see this used across all manner of scams, whether it's the Nigerian Prince who needs to get the money out before the government changes, or Scotsman Gregor MacGregor's "Poyais Scam" in 1822, where MacGregor used the scarcity principle (along with other techniques) to not only only convince investors to part with their money, but also for 250 of his countrymen to set sail and colonize the rich island nation of Poyais before other countries did. Unfortunately, Poyais never existed, and 2/3 of the "settlers" died in the process.
In Davina's case, the scarcity principle was applied in the form of criminal charges and legal action from the bank:
"I picked up and a 'Debt Collector' says that I'm late in re-paying a RM50,000 loan I applied for, at a Hong Leong Bank in Penang, and charges will be made if I don't pay up in 2 hours. ...
...the sergeant told me the next step. Because the bank was to sue me in an hour, I needed to act fast."
4. They'll usually try to get you to keep it a secret
Image from 83UnsungHeroes
For the obvious reason of preventing an outsider from foiling their plans, scammers would usually try to find a way to prevent you from discussing the situation with others. While methods would include asking you to stay on the phone, or telling you (in the case of investment/money transfer scams) that discussing the matter might jeopardize the entire deal.
I was also told not to speak to anyone about this case, for there were many suspects still not caught, and there was a chance that one of them might be in my social circles.
In instances where the person calling you claims to be from a certain bank or government authority, it's best to tell them that you will call the relevant agency yourself while ignoring any numbers they might ask you to call. And no, you can't get in trouble for doing this.
5. They take advantage of your lack of knowledge
Image from Narratively. Artwork by Marley Allen-Ash
A very popular scam currently happening across the globe is the Microsoft Tech Support Scam, where scammers impersonating Microsoft tech support personnel would call and inform victims that there was a problem with their computer and convince them to grant remote access to their computer. Once this is done, scammers can install spyware/and or steal personal information - some even charging for the "service"!
Microsoft has stated that most victims who fall for the scam are those who are unfamiliar with technology.
Scammers would usually assume a role of authority (which in the case of the Macau Scam is the police) in order to make victims more compliant, especially if the victims aren't equipped with the necessary knowledge to believe otherwise. While we've already covered police procedure in the first point, it's also worth noting that, even if true, Davina would not have been facing the death penalty for her involvement:
Assuming if it was true, she could be charged for selling her ID. [For the drug charge] I don't know what 'evidence' they would have to link her... the police would have a lot of things to prove." - Fahri Azzat
In such a situation, having at least a base knowledge of the law and your rights may allow you to spot the scam early on, and to call the scammer's bluff:
"A good response in such a scenario would be to say 'Send me a Section 111 notice, then I will come.'
That will put them on alert that (1) You know enough criminal procedure and; (2) You may not be an easy target" - Fahri Azzat
Reading more Asklegal articles can perhaps be a good start. Here's our article on Malaysian drug laws.
It's always an "obvious con job"... until it happens to you
You might laugh this off and say that you saw the con happening a mile away while reading this, but it's a very different situation when you're actually caught in the thick of it. While Davina eventually realized it was a scam before any damage was done (other than the loss of time and having to cancel appointments), others have fully complied and lost their savings as a result.
As scams continue to evolve, there's no single tried-and-true method of keeping yourself safe - other than keeping your wits about you and being aware of your rights (and the law) when contacted by people claiming to be from enforcement agencies.
Davina's story
The call came in from a phone number starting with '00'. I picked up and a 'Debt Collector' says that I'm late in re-paying a RM50,000 loan I applied for, at a Hong Leong Bank in Penang, and charges will be made if I don't pay up in 2 hours. I said I don't have such an account and I'm based in KL. The lady then gave me the account details for reference, and helped to connect me to the police station in Penang to file a report. I spoke to a 'Sergeant', who took down basic details, then was told that his superior will call me back to record a report over the phone.
The number that called was the legitimate number of the Penang Police Headquarters. I made a phone-recorded report with a new Sergeant which must be made in absolute privacy, and he double checked my details over a walkie talkie to check my background.
The Sergeant then told me that my name is associated with a big drug heist that has just happened. The drug dealer was caught with 16kg of meth and has made over half a million ringgit from it, with half of it still not traced. In the dealer's statement, he's said that I've sold my IC and bank account details to him to earn some profit from the dealings. There was also a lot of evidence presented by the dealer to prove of me being a willing accomplice. The sergeant proceeded to blatantly accuse me of hiding something, to which I had to convince him that I was innocent.
I was asked to officially state, over the phone for recording / report purposes, all of my current balances with all of my bank accounts, to declare as legal money. I dug out all the statements I had on me and listed them out. (The Sergeant told me not to reveal private details like passwords, as authorities like him don't have the right to ask that of civilians.) Whatever amount I didn't declare appropriately would be used against me in court. I was also told not to speak to anyone about this case, for there were many suspects still not caught, and there was a chance that one of them might be in my social circles.
I was forwarded on to explain my case to the Sergeant's superior, an Inspector, who responded rudely to me for not being able to speak in Bahasa, and hung up. The Sergeant then called the Inspector back, with me still on the other line, to explain that he believed that I was not an accomplice and would like to allow me to help with the investigation.
The Sergeant hung up and told me that his Inspector gave me two choices: either I cooperate with the investigations in complete confidentiality, or I get arrested under warrant and get detained for interrogations at police HQ in Penang for a minimum of 45 days. If I chose the former, then the Sergent's job was to be on the line if I was proven guilty, and the punishment for drug dealing here in Malaysia, he reminded me, was death.
I chose to cooperate, of course, and with complete trust in each other, the sergeant told me the next step. Because the bank was to sue me in an hour, I needed to act fast. The magistrate court would need to do an audit on all of my bank accounts, and therefore, I'd need to immediately head to each of my banks and transfer all of my legit earnings to the court account, with him staying with me on the line to guide me. At this point, I said, 'Sergeant, I don't believe you,' hung up on the 2.5-HOUR phonecall, cried and screamed my lungs out, with my poor clueless husband consoling me, and went to the nearest police station to make a REAL report.
The police staff informed me that a lot of similiar scams have been reported recently. Nevertheless, they were impressed at how intricate the setup was.
I've called up Hong Leong Bank to report the case, and they are already investigating the issue.
I spent the whole of yesterday in trauma from this event. I was angry that I cancelled important plans, and that I was so easily fooled. I was sad at how people would go to such lengths to create such incredible scams, when they could be spending all that time and effort to make REAL respectable lives for themselves. Most of all, I'm worried that someone as aware and intelligent as I could have fallen for such a trap, because that means that so many others may not be so lucky to stop themselves from sending out their life savings out and never seeing it again.
pdrm
macau scam
irs scam
nigerian prince
About the Author UiHua
Chief keyboardist at Asklegal. Don't ask me legal questions. Ask me about the tramp joke instead.


text:
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Tag: bimbo transformation
Updated Standards
Drinking and tinkering with experimental tech don't mix, even if your grades are on the line.
The girls were certain they were failing Bio 101.
"It's that damn, creepy TA." Emily scoffed, brushing her red hair out of her face.
"Sexisit, racist pig." Wendy muttered, not looking up from her phone.
"I know!?" Jess was clearly the most drunk, having already downed several of the horrendous Kool-Aid and vodka monstrosities the three of them had been sharing for the last hour.
They all sat together in their shared dorm, commiserating their futile academic struggle. An outside observer would have suggested that their time would have been better spent studying, but it's human nature to avoid introspection when an easy target of scorn was available.
Jess finished off the pink-purple abomination from her solo cup. She was blonde, but wasn't stupid (all of them were reasonably intelligent) though she'd wasted this first semester at college partying hard.
"Hey Wendy, at least you have a shot at-" Jess stopped to shake her friend's shoulder for attention. Wendy always was on her phone, rarely looking up and giving her focus to the world around her.
"Wendy. Wendy. Earth to Wendy!" Jess playfully grabbed her friend's phone out of her hands. "I was saying, at least you have a shot at winning over the creep. You're half-Asian, that's gotta be worth a C+, right?"
Wendy gave a faintly amused snort of laughter and snapped back her phone.
Emily leaned forward to her friends, a mischievous glint in her eye and an evil grin on her face.
"Oh, man. I just got a fucking amazing idea…"
"This is a fucking awful idea." Jess muttered, glancing around the darkened lab. She was starting to sober up, and this whole plan was making less and less sense.
"Oh, don't be such a baby." Emily flicked her phone's flashlight on, leading her friends through the cluttered space. They were in the basement lab at the physics building to sabotage their TA's prized, secret project.
"We don't even know what we're looking for." Wendy's face was illuminated by her screen. Even now, she was only half paying attention to this hairbrained scheme.
Emily moved to the obvious workspace: something large and ominous in the middle of the room, covered with a cloth tarp. She pulled it back to reveal…
"What the hell is it?" Jess said, cocking her head to the side and squinting. "Some oversized copy machine?"
Emily flipped over the clipboard resting on the top of the bulky, box-like contraption.
"Transmogrifier version zero-zero-two."she read from the top line. "Preconfigured test A – Z – N."
"Whatever the hell that means," Jess shook her head. "Even his notes sound prevy."
Emily fumbled with the switches, looking for something to snap off or unplug. Anything that would ruin this prick's hard work.
The machine kicked to life, whirring up to a deafening whine in seconds.
Wendy actually stopped staring at her phone just in time to see the streak of white light emerge from the top of the machine and envelope Emily.
It happened so quickly, Jess and Wendy didn't even have time to react. The light was gone, and their red-headed friend was on the floor, seemingly electrocuted.
"Emily!" Jess raced over to her friend's side in panic, afraid she was dead from the shock.
"Ugggh." the girl on the ground moaned and pushed herself up, rubbing her temples. "Like, that was trippy."
Jess was so relieved her friend was alive she didn't register the change in Emily's voice. Wendy however noticed something even more radical happening from her vantage.
"Jess… Emily's hair… it's…"
Emily rached back and pulled a lock of her hair. It seemed longer, silkier, but more shockingly it was darkening from the roots down. Her first thought, unable to process what she was seeing, was that ink was being poured down her head.
Jess and Wendy looked on, mouths agape, as the friend's face shifted in the dim light. Her eyes became more narrow, her lightly freckled complexion seemed to grow more pale.
"Mmmph." Emily doubled over. "My shirt is, like, shrinking?"
Jess could easily see why her friend thought that. Emily's breasts were swelling up at an impossible rate, growing from their normal A cup size.
Whatever was happening, Emily didn't seem to mind too much. She cupped her new assets and giggles.
"Guys, this feels so awesome!"
Emily looked up at her friends, her head still spinning.
Wendy was looking at her phone, her finger hovering over the emergency call button. Jess was staring at her like a deer in headlights.
"Guys, I'm like totes one-hundred!" she giggled. These girls were always waaay too worried about stuff. She wondered how she ever tolerated these uptight lame-o's.
"Emily, your hair. It's- it's-" Jess stammered.
"O-M-G! Is my hair frizzled?" Emily grabbed a lock in panic. She'd just die if her look was ruined!
"No, it's just different. And your face…" Jess didn't know where to begin, and Emily's new attitude was throwing her off.
"Oh, thank god!" Emily was relived to see her silky, long black hair was still perfect looking. "I thought I was gonna be totally uggo for the frat party this weekend!"
Wendy and Jess just watched, speechless, as their 'new' friend picked herself up off the floor. She seemed slightly shorter, but that was the least concerning change.
In a matter of moments, Emily had gone from flat chested red-head to a curvy, Asian babe.
"Ugh, are you two always so LAME?" Emily was remembering more now, how these two wet blankets had dragged her here to mess with the cutie TA's science gizmo.
With the same glint of mischievousness crossing her new face, Emily smiled at her 'friends'.
"Oh! I totally just got a fucking amazing idea…"
If these two lame bitches were going to mess with the hottie genius TA, it was only fair she mess with them. Maybe he'd even let her suck his cock once she told him what she did!
Jess cautiously tried to move closer to her friend, to reason with her, but Emily seemed to have a newly found determination.
The airhead sorority girl was going to have some fun.
"I know what that hunk would like." Emily declared punching buttons on the huge machine. "And it's def not a lame, stuck up white bitch like you Jess."
Author Rev HalePosted on August 25, 2021 Categories Original StoriesTags asian bimbo, bimbo transformation, mind control, race change
Exposure Risk
First day out since the BimboFlu hit! 😷
I know they're saying only go out if it's an emergency, but was totally going crazy suck inside again.
Promise it was only emergency snacks. 🙏
Heeey! 💕💕
I've been like soooo zoned out these last couple of weeks. I was kind of worried it may be the BimboFlu at first, but it's supposed to make you dumb and stuff – but I'm still like totally smart!
Even my nerdy brother agrees – he's been helping me set up a new profile and stuff. All I need to do is flash him and flirt a bit. 😉
Hai fam!
So happy for all the new followers on OnlyFans. 😍😍😍
Speaking of fam… My next video has a special guest! 😋 Turns out my lil bro isn't so little. 🤤🍆
Totes can't wait for you guys to see my super cute new outfits!!! 💕💕
Source: migimomo
Author Rev HalePosted on July 11, 2021 Categories Original StoriesTags bimbo transformation, bimbo virus, bimbofication, incest
Drunk on Ginny
Looking through my flagged posts on Tumblr, I found this from the before times. Actually, I think this predates any of my original writing.
The lovely @drunk-on-ginny made this story from a prompt I submitted. It's too good to have disappear from the internet, so republishing it here with a SFWish image so future generations can enjoy.
Thanks for the submission and suggestion 800milesisadrive! The suggestion was like an inverted transformation scenario – the subject doesn't transform, but her world does…
Continue reading "Drunk on Ginny"
Author Rev HalePosted on July 10, 2021 Categories UncategorizedTags asian bimbo, bimbo stories, bimbo transformation, corruption, mind break, reality change
Like, an update!
"Heeey everyone!"
"I know my new look is, like, totally different?"
"A couple of subs mentioned they're worried, that I've been acting like more ditzy and stuff?"
"But, everything is, like, really really fun now! I don't even mind all the dickpics!"
"Like, anyway! After my last warning, some really helpful guys got me all set up on OnlyFans!"
"It's, like, perfect! I can show my boobies now without all those annoying warnings!!"
Image source: aariabb
Author Rev HalePosted on June 17, 2021 Categories Original StoriesTags asian bimbo, bimbo transformation, bimbofication, brain drain, iq reduction
True Fans Know
Min needs to prove herself to be a true fan.
"Fake Nerd Girl"!
Do you have any idea how fucking toxic you sound right now?
Wait… what the fuck did you just do to me?
I look like some titty streamer!
Ok, I'm begging you. I don't care how you did it.
Just undo it, change me back!
You know… I hate to, like, admit it…
But I do look totally hot, don't I?
I mean, you're laughing at me right now.
But, like, I can tell you're totally turned on by this!
Look, I'm not saying you were right or anything…
But, like whatever, I guess this is kind of awesome?
And, like, cute boys are into all that waifu stuff, right?
"Min make nerd cock hard?"
*giggle*
Min love new her!
Min thank cute boy with sucky?
Author Rev HalePosted on May 8, 2021 Categories UncategorizedTags asian bimbo, asian stereotypes, bimbo transformation, bimbofication, cosplay slut, my content
Just a Thot
Original gif source: @Chanel.uzi
fragDerazter69: ug whos the chick in vc?
NotUrDaddz17: idk but shes annoying af
"Fuck you guys! I'm carrying this match!"
fragDerazter69: bs - i bet your just on mic while your bf plays
"Shit like this is why girls think gaming is toxic. Grow up you cretin."
NotUrDaddz17: haha no not her bf - check out the shit kd rt
NotUrDaddz17: prob some titty twitch ethot
fragDerazter69: lol bet shes controller too
fragDerazter69: can get away beingg crap when youre just ina bra!!
"Not every girl is some 'thot'… Ummm…"
NotUrDaddz17: bitch missed the jump haha
"Sorry, I got distracted… Wait, what was I saying?"
fragDerazter69: u were about to plug ur onlyfans
NotUrDaddz17: LAWL
"Like, I guess? Wait, I don't have one!"
fragDerazter69: just dm us ur tits
fragDerazter69: all bimbos r good 4
"That's, like, totally mean! I-I…"
NotUrDaddz17: thot is afk now - what a ditz
"Ugh! Sorry, I'm totally spacing! Games are like so hard!"
fragDerazter69: just drop and send yr tits bimbo
NotUrDaddz17: dude shes friending us????
fragDerazter69: told u - just a thot
Author Rev HalePosted on January 2, 2021 Categories Original StoriesTags asian bimbo, bimbo transformation, bimbofication, thot
Asian Blondes Have More Fun
"It's not a real thing!" she protested.
This sexist asshole – where did he get off saying shit like this.
"An Asian girl can be blonde without it meaning she… she…"
What was that disgusting phrase he used?
"A bleached bimbo for white cock!"
She made a face, sticking her tongue out to emphasize how gross it was.
"Like, I'm not some dumb, ditzy… umm"
What was the word again? She just said it.
"Slutty, Asian bimbo. Like, a total cock slut or whatever!"
Wait, this was confusing. What was she so upset about?
"It's so stupid and confusing."
She twirled her hair and bit her lip, trying to remember. God, she could be so spacey around cute guys!
"It's not, like easy for me! Do you know how hard it is… how hard it is to…"
I wonder how hard he is? I bet he's, like, super hung.
"To think around yummy hard cocks like that?"
Wait, no! That wasn't right!
"Oh god, it's like, not what I meant, mister!"
She pouted.
"Can, I like just suck it? I promise I look super cute with a cock in my mouth!"
She giggled as he pulled it out.
"OMG – it's like soooo big!"
She was so lucky he was there. Blonde Asian bimbos like her needed this.
Author Rev HalePosted on January 2, 2021 Categories Original StoriesTags asian bimbo, asian stereotypes, bimbo transformation, bimofication
Discrimination by MrGrey
"What do you think he wants to see us for?" Laurie asked, straightening her pulled back blonde hair.
"Probably to commend me on the McKlenski report," Cheryl said confidently. Cheryl was the highest paid black woman in the company.
"Maybe he's going to give me that promotion I've been expecting. I have earned it," Lucy stated. She had come to America with her parents from Japan when she was just a child and achieved all her success on her own.
Laurie, Cheryl, and Lucy were asked to meet with their boss, Mr. Baxter, at the end of the day. They were all very smart and independent business women who had a long road of success ahead of them. Now, the three women sat in the waiting room outside Mr. Baxter's office, waiting to be called in.
Finally, Mr. Baxter's secretary spoke up, "Mr. Baxter will see you all now."
The three women walked by the secretary smugly, loving the fact that they had broken through the glass ceiling to get to where they were now while this woman had been left behind to take phone calls for her boss… They strutted through the open door into their boss's office and sat down in the three chairs in front of his desk.
The office was huge. The back window gave a great view of the city behind Mr. Baxter's desk. Paintings and sculptures adorned the walls and corners of the sophisticated office. The women stared at the back of the leather desk chair, then finally Mr. Baxter spun around to face them.
"Good afternoon ladies."
"Good afternoon, Mr. Baxter," the three women responded pleasantly.
"I assumed you're wondering why it is that I called you here today…" Mr. Baxter was a tall, handsome man. His black suit showed that he was also a rich and important man. He gestured at the glasses of water in front of them, which the women politely accepted and took a sip, placing the glass back on his desk.
Laurie, Cheryl, and Lucy awaited an explanation as they watched Mr. Baxter stand up and pace behind his desk.
"The thing is, ladies… The company's losing money—"
"Oh, I don't believe this!" Laurie said angrily, already putting 2 and 2 together.
Mr. Baxter tried to regain control of his employees, "Now now, don't jump to conclusions—"
"What is it you're trying to tell us, Mr. Baxter?" Cheryl asked, keeping her composure.
"I'm getting to that—"
"I didn't work this hard all my life for nothing, Mr. Baxter," Lucy explained with a glare in her eyes.
Mr. Baxter took a breath. This was going to take some careful wording… "We're being forced make some changes. It's as simple as that—"
"I'll tell you what's simple," Cheryl said, "Discrimination!" The three women nodded in agreement.
"Cheryl, I can tell you that this has nothing to do with your being… being…" Mr. Baxter was having trouble saying the word.
"Being black?" Cheryl finished for him, sternly, "Actually, I think it has a lot to do with it."
Lucy chimed in, "And I assume my minority had a say in this as well. Am I right, Mr. Baxter?"
"Ladies, I can assure you—"
Now Laurie had had enough, "I can't say that I'm too surprised that three women are the first to go through these "changes" as you put it…" Mr. Baxter hid his smile at this. "Are there any men being laid off?"
"Now now… See? I told you not to jump to any conclusions…" Mr. Baxter explained, getting full attention of the women, "No one is being laid off."
"Then what exactly is going on here?" Cheryl asked.
Mr. Baxter sat on the edge of his desk, looking down at the women, "You see, the company is losing money. And…we can't afford some of the salaries here. So, we're just going to make some changes."
"So what are these changes going to be?" Lucy asked.
"Now, let me just reiterate that this has nothing to do with Cheryl being African-American… Lucy being Asian-American… or with Laurie being a woman. A blonde woman, at that. And very attractive, might I add…" Mr. Baxter said with a wink.
The three women's jaws hung open in disbelief. "Now, wait just a min—" Laurie began to argue, but was cut off by her boss.
"But, the changes, ladies, are going to be with you!"
The women were paying full attention now, trying to understand what was going on.
"By the way, how was the water I provided for you?"
The women continued listened, starting to feel that something wasn't quite right.
"You see…we need to make some demotions," Mr. Baxter explained, "But, I'm afraid that our staff is too skilled and experienced, that they would never agree to step down a few pegs. So, our team has developed something that will make some changes in the staff itself."
"I don't understand…" Laurie admitted.
Mr. Baxter laughed, "Well, get used to it, darling. You see, ladies… That water you drank is a special formula that is designed to find your true image of yourself. Any self-conscious feelings you may have felt people have had about you, they are going to take front and center in your personality now…" Mr. Baxter looked at his watch, "Actually, about right now."
Laurie, Cheryl, and Lucy exchanged worried glances. They didn't really believe what they were being told, but they did have to admit that something didn't feel right…
"I feel funny…" Laurie said, her voice sounding a little strange. Higher than normal…
"Damn, my head feels strange…" Cheryl said, getting a little bit of an attitude.
"Oh… Head not feel right…" Lucy said, having trouble finding the right words.
Mr. Baxter smiled to himself, "How do you like it, ladies? Now Laurie will have to be offended by another blonde joke, since she won't really have the intelligence to get it!" Laurie looked at his with pleading eyes. "And Cheryl, you'll never have to feel embarrassed by your "ghetto" background, since you'll be embracing it soon! So be proud!" Cheryl looked like she was ready to fight someone. "And Lucy… You'll never feel you have to prove yourself ever again, since you'll know your place in society just like any Japanese woman!" Lucy averted her eyes to the tall man, not knowing what to do.
The three woman all stood up, frightened.
"This, like, can't be happening…" Laurie said to herself, "I feel like I'm forgetting things!"
"Just let it happen, honey," Mr. Baxter consoled, "All you need to know how to do now is to read fashion magazines and answer a phone."
"Don' be tellin' us to 'let it happen', suga'!" Cheryl said angrily, "I worked mah azz off to get to where I is! And ain't no white man gonna tell me what I'm gonna do! Nuh-uh!" Cheryl couldn't help it, but the angrier she got the more she cocked her hip to the side and bounced her neck back and forth.
"Me forgetting words…" Lucy said meekly, "Me…uh, how do you seh? Me scare?"
Mr. Baxter nodded his head, "Yes, that's right, Lucy. Scared. Very good." Lucy smiled at the man's compliment. "You'll be reading English soon, I bet!"
Lauri had pulled her hair down and was twirling a blonde strand around her finger, "Like, ummm, why did you do this us, Mr. Baxter?" Her eyes were almost drained of intelligence at this point.
"Well, you ladies seemed to be the most obvious choice." The women struggled to keep up. "You fought so much to disprove the public's stereotypical image of you, that the formula would have so much to work with!" Mr. Baxter laughed and awaited more changes, "So, Cheryl, how are you feeling?"
Cheryl cut her eyes at him. "Ain't no Cheryl here, baby," she explained, waving her index finger in the air, "Dis here be Cherry. Da hottest piece o' azz in da ghetto!" Cherry accented this by twisting her waist around and slapping her backside. "Now, wud up wit deez lame clothes! Cherry don' wear no shit like dis!" She looked disgusted at her sophisticated business suit and knee-length skirt.
"Yeah, like, totally!" Laurie screamed, giggling like an idiot. "Let's go to the mall! I need some new clothes too!"
"Girl, you need more than some new clothes…" Cherry mumbled.
"Like, what do you mean?" Lauri asked, looking serious.
"Sounds like you need to go back to school a few mo' years…" Cherry laughed to herself at the ditzy white girl.
Lauri just giggled, "But, I, like, graduated high school! What else do I need?"
Cherry didn't have an answer for that, since she didn't have anything past a high school diploma either.
Mr. Baxter was pleased, "Lucy, how are you doing over there? Sounds like these two are finished with their changes…" Cherry and Lauri seemed a little angry at their plight "…are you about done? We don't have all day here…"
Lucy was quick to answer, "Oh! Yes… Yes, sir. Me…done. Me done. Me…angreh a' you."
Mr. Baxter laughed, "Yes, I guess I have to expect you to be a little angry for transforming you all into your worst nightmare. But, it's not like it matters now. You've all lost your manners, sophistication, and anything that made you worthy of your previous position!"
"So, what our job gon' be now?" Cherry asked with an attitude.
"Well…" Mr. Baxter walked up to Lauri and put his hands on her shoulders, "Lauri here doesn't seem to have to attention span to do anything more that sit at a desk and answer phone calls, so she can be my new secretary. Suzi outside has been waiting to move up a floor, I think you can take her place."
Lauri was devasted, "But, I used ta be smart, Mr. Baxter! I swear it! Don't make me a dumb secretary!" Lauri pouted, poking her bottom lip out.
"Cherry here…" Mr. Baxter started to put his hand on Cherry, but she glared at him, making him rethink it, "Cherry couldn't possibly be allowed to make a public appearance. She hardly knows any grammar now… It would be best to keep her behind the scenes as an office girl, filing— and that doesn't mean your nails, Cherry." Mr. Baxter finished sternly, corrected pointing out what Cherry was thinking, gazing at how boring her nails were…
Cherry just scoffed. She kept one hand on her hip and rocked her neck back and forth as she said, "Whateva!"
"And Lucy…" Mr. Baxter stared Lucy in the eye, but she wouldn't return his gaze, "Lucy can hardly speak the language now. She has no people skills. She is only meant to serve… Isn't that right, Lucy?" Lucy nodded out of respect. "I think you'd make a perfect cleaning woman for the office. How does that sound?" Lucy was screaming inside, but knew that it was all she was capable of and she needed the money…
"So! This meeting is adjourned, ladies! Thank you for your time and have a wonderful afternoon!"
"Like, Mr. Baxter's office! This is Lauri!" Lauri said cheerily, putting her nail polish down and carefully picking up the ringing phone, pushing the button with the pad of her finger so as not to mess up her nails. Her tits almost spilled out of the tight fitting top she was wearing, and the mini-skirt didn't leave much to the imagination. But, that's how Mr. Baxter liked her and she was happy to keep his perverted eyes happy as long as the bonuses kept appearing on her small paycheck.
"Damn, baby! Why you callin' me now! I tol' you not while I'm at work!" a loud voice said from the hallway. Lauri looked up to to see Cherry strut in. Her six inch pink heels fit perfectly with her two inch pink press-on nails. They even had her initials on them! Her gold teeth glittered in the light as she tossed a folder on Lauri's desk without a word and continued yelling into her cell phone, oblivious to other people around her. "Ah wudn't at no club last night! Shit, ah don' give a fuck what Mario say! I wudn't rubbin' mah azz all over no man!" She glanced at Lauri and smiled, lying through her gold teeth.
Lauri giggled at her naughty friend and went back to painting her nails and thinking about who she thought wasn't going to win on The Bachelor.
Then, the sound of squeaky wheels echoed through the hallway as Lucy came in with her trashcan and broom. Her sweaty hair dangled in her face and her cheap dress kept everyone wondering what happened to that ambitious Japanese woman that used to work here.
"You rea' for' trashca'?" Lucy said meekly and chirpily, having grown accustomed to her new job.
Lauri nodded and pointed to the full waste bin beside the desk. Lucy picked it up and emptied it.
"Ummm…Lucy?" Lauri asked, taking a break from her pretty nails.
Lucy looked up.
"Do you, like, remember anything from before?" Lauri's voice kept anyone from taking her seriously, but Lucy always listened to her. "Like, I know that I used to be smart… But, it's, like, getting harder and harder to remember. Do you remember how you used to be?"
Lucy smiled and said, "No unastan."
Lauri nodded and smiled back as she watched Lucy wheel her trashcan back down the hallway to clean the bathrooms. Lauri's intercom buzzed as Mr. Baxter asked her to come into his office. She reached into her drawer and grabbed a tube of Lube, knowing what was coming. This was the life of a secretary though, so Lauri had learned to live with it. She had heard that Lucy had been spotted in the Asian side of the city, offering herself to cars driving by, so at least she knew that she wasn't alone. But, every time she heard of another blonde woman being promoted, she couldn't help but think of where her life had been going, and every time she bent over Mr. Baxter's desk, her slippery ass in the air, she couldn't help but think of what a stereotype she had become…
Author Rev HalePosted on December 23, 2020 Categories UncategorizedTags asian bimbo, asian stereotypes, bimbo transformation, bimbofication mind control, mrgrey, race change, raceplay
An Afternoon Spent at the Gym by MrGrey
A few days had passed since my last "merry-go-round".
I had considered going a whole week with no excitement. I had planned to take a break; give the people of this city time to get adjusted — let their guard down. I had sat in my apartment for much too long, flipping through the newspaper. As usual, my little amusements would land somewhere after page 6. Titles such as "Still No Explanation For Strange Occurrences" and other such nonsense would crowd my ego. I guess it was fine with me. I never planned on being a celebrity. My "talents" were merely a way to pass time — a way to spend an afternoon.
I happened to glance out my third floor window while on my break. Just the sight of a woman jogging down the sidewalk was enough to make me miss the limelight. She seemed so carefree. The earphones wrapped around her head probably blasting some motivating tune with a fast drum beat. I watched as the blonde checked her pulse and continued on down the city sidewalk.
Cracking my knuckles, I knew the break was over.
I hurried down the stairwell and out into the city air. It was nice to feel the breeze and hear the cars rushing by. I smiled to myself and took a deep breath.
Two teenage girls walked past me, double-taking.
"What the fuck's with the coat, man?" one asked, "It's 70 degrees out!" The girl laughed, only causing her friend to shake her head and pull the girl's arm, urging her to "come on!".
I snapped my fingers, instantly giving the rude girl a serious addition to licking her friend's asshole. She flinched at the snap! and backed away, feeling the desire — the urge — slowly taking over her. She turned to her friend with all seriousness and begged to let her lick her ass.
"Right here!" she pleaded, "Right here in the street! I want everyone to see how much I love your ass, Christie!"
Christie was a little more than weirded out and took off running in the other direction. Little did she know that when she got home, she would be overcome with the same urge for her friend's ass. The two of them would spend the rest of the afternoon chasing after each other's smooth, tiny asses, just begging to get their tongue in between those soft cheeks.
Well, now that my appetite was whet, I scanned the streets for the jogging girl that had gotten my attention in the first place. I could see the bright yellow sports bra she had wrapped around her near flat torso. The tiny red shorts that rode further and further up her thighs were like bait for the fish.
Of course, I had to see where she was going.
Hearing the clanking and gonging of the heavy plates being pulled, lifted, and shuffled got my adrenaline pumping. It meant people. It met a crowd.
The jogger had disappeared into Omega Fitness Gym. I walked into the plush building and took in all the sights. It was clearly a hefty membership fee to join this place. It had everything a health nut could want. A nice cafeteria serving all-natural snacks and supplemental power shakes. A line of treadmills faced a television playing a 24-hour news network. Further back was an aerobics studio, lined with mirrors. Women could be seen lined up, stretching and kicking their legs in the air as the bass of some dance music motivated them. Throughout the gym were workout machines and weight benches, all filled with men and women working their hearts out to make themselves healthier and more attractive.
This was going to be fun.
I made my way up to the woman at the front desk. Her name tag declared her as "Tiffany". She had a nice build to her, broad shoulders for a girl and a pretty good rack. Her legs were clearly her favorite part of herself. Her pants were kept tight to show off how toned they were. Peeking into Tiffany's mind, I could see that she needed a lot of verbal support from her friends. Her boyfriend knew that she was "high maintenance" but he didn't care. What a trooper…
Tiffany looked up from some fitness magazine and smiled, "Hey. You got your card?"
I shook my head, and that exact moment, Tiffany had an orgasm. Right as she stood up, she gripped the backing of the chair she had been sitting in. She sucked in a lungful of air as the shock of such a great, but unexpected, feeling surprised her. "Uh…" she moaned, keeping quiet at first, her limbs shaking, but the cum got stronger and stronger, forcing her to squeal and buck her hips in the air. "Ahh-Uhhhh! Ahhh…fuck!"
Tiffany collapsed on the floor, sweating and panting. "What the fuck was that — ?" she asked between breaths, but her sentence was cut off as I instantly erased all knowledge of health and exercise from her mind. Tiffany enviable physique quickly deteriorated as her muscles became soft, spankable fat. Her ass doubled in size and her tits became huge and floppy, now spilling out of her bra. She stood up and brushed herself off.
Her friends wouldn't have to work as hard to support Tiffany's ego, since she no longer cared about what she looked like. Of course, I kept her looking good, but the only guys that would really find her attractive would be ones that didn't mind a few extra pounds. As an extra gift to her boyfriend, for being such a good sport, I gave Tiff an addiction to cum. When the two of them went to parties, while everyone else had wine and beer, Tiffany would have a glass of cum. Usually it would be her boyfriend's, but other times she wouldn't even know who's it was. Though, Tiffany would never forget where to find all the cum she wanted…
"You got your card?" she asked me, not realizing the drastic turn her life had just taken.
"Yeah, right here…" I said, unzipping my pants and pulling my cock out.
She looked a little offended at first, but, later on, as she was wiping my cum from her chin while I walked into the heart of the gym, she would think about the incident while she masturbated in the bathroom. I noticed one skinny chick nudge her muscle-bound boyfriend and point at Tiffany, laughing. I decided to give her boyfriend a fat fetish, and in that instant, he looked at his sexy girlfriend, no longer interested. He walked off to see if he could get Tiffany's number, while the arrogant girl was left wondering what was going on. I decided to give her the same fetish, making her eyes glued to Tiffany's glorious round ass.
Now that I had fucked up a few lives already, I was ready to really dig in. There was plenty to play with at this place. I kept my eye on this girl holding a dumbbell behind her head while she worked her triceps. Her chest was sticking out, making her nipples stand out through her sports bra.
Whispering a few Latin phrases, her chest began to expand with each pump. The girl began to seem less interested in her arms as she was with her chest. She would glance down, grin to herself, and then get that focused look back on her face as she pulled the dumbbell back up over her head.
Finally, she brought the weight over her head and set it on the ground. She took a deep breath and walked over to the mirrored wall. She stood sideways, sucked in her stomach and admired the work she had done on her boobs. She squeezed them, slapped them, lifted them, and pinched them. She turned the other way for a moments, looking at them from a different angle, nodded her head, and went on to the next machine. For the rest of her life, she would believe that that exercise would make her tits bigger, and that it was a normal exercise to do, sometimes strangers to feel her tit muscles. Of course they would reach out and grab a hold of her huge knockers, but she wouldn't see anything wrong with it. Instead, she would just smile and nod, saying, "Big, aren't they?"
I watched the big titted woman move from machine to machine for a minute, then caught sight of the line of treadmills. About five or six people were walking stationary at a brisk pace. They kept their arms up and their fists clamped, all while keeping their eyes focused on a TV news reporter playing simultaneously on three TVs hanging from the ceiling.
Such boring entertainment…
When the movie "Hole Bangers 36" replaced the newscast on the screens, the walkers looked a each other for moment, confused. They knew that a porn movie shouldn't be playing at the gym, yet they were compelled to finish their workout. Their necks stayed craned upwards at the televisions while they watched some slut get fucked from all angles by some surfer guy. The women were cleared a little offended yet curious about what they were seeing, but it had the undivided attention of the men.
This was all fine and dandy, but I figured it needed a little something else…
With a wink of my eye, all the women walking of the treadmills moaned. They looked around to see if anyone heard them, then went back to watching the porn. The men were clenching their eyes shut and breathing heavier as they kept at their pace. On the screen, the surfer guy pulled his cock out of the girls pussy and went straight into her ass. All the women on the treadmills jumped as this happened. They began walking a little off balance, almost stumbling over at some points, but remained on their feet. They moved their hips back and forth as they walked and sweated.
They were now feeling the sensation of having a dick up their ass as they walked. The men, clutching the hand rest of the treadmills harder and harder, felt like they were doing the fucking up the ass. It was amusing to watch. As the girl on screen began screaming and cumming, the women all bucked their hips, holding their screams back as best they could. I heard one girl even yell "fuck me"! The guys eventually came in their jogging pants as well.
Once the movie was over, they all jumped off the treadmills and ran out of the building, terrified.
I couldn't stop smiling.
No one had seemed to notice the charade going on on the cardio machines. The gym continued lifting and stretching away.
So far this afternoon, I had made two girls addicted to each other's ass, one girl a cum-addicted slob, a guy and a girl that found the slob sexy, and fucked around with a group of power-walkers.
It was time to really get started.
"Ladies and gentlemen, could I have your attention please?"
At that moment, all exits and entrances to the gym slammed shut and locked. The clanking of the weight plates abruptly silenced. The murmuring of the cafeteria stopped. All that was left was the mumbling of a few faint TV's and the bass of the aerobics room. Everyone was looking at me. Right now, all anyone cared about was the man in the trench coat standing in the middle of the gym. They weren't worried about their "quads" or doing anymore "reps". It was all about me. Me.
And that was the way I liked it.
"I'm terribly sorry, but it appears that you all are about to have the most interesting afternoon of your entire lives," I explained loudly, so everyone could hear. A few people glanced at each other, as if to ask, Is this guy for real? I nodded sympathetically, "Yes, I'm afraid you all have won the worst lottery imaginable. You all have been chosen to partake in what is becoming a local tradition. When I get bored, I like to use my gift."
One brave man walked up to me, "What's your gift?"
I was surprised by the man's confidence. I could see in his eyes that he wasn't scared of anything. The amount of weight he could lift over his head made sure of that. As far as this jagoff was concerned, his pectoral muscles could stop bullets… I thought about explaining my gift to him — to everyone. But, I figured, as always, that a demonstration would work best.
I snapped my fingers and pointed at the arrogant man. Immediately, the muscles he had worked so hard to obtain began to deflate. His gray tanktop began to hand loosely from his frame as his gym shorts fell down to his ankles. "The fuck?!" he screamed, surprised at how his voice sounded. It no longer had that burly bass to it, but it now sounded…rather feminine! His worst fears took form as a pair of small bumps formed under his loose tanktop, filling it out a little. The man's crewcut hair sprouted out, spilling down his neck and shoulders. His eyes lashes grew and his cheek bones rose. His hips filled out and his nails grew.
The former male looked down at his now unmistakable, yet cute, female body. He cautiously hooked his meek thumb around the elastic waistband of his shorts and peered down the front of his pants. When he failed to see his formerly inadequate penis, but rather a furry mound, he was outraged. "You fucking bastard, turn me back this instan…t." The man's eyes crossed, then refocused. "I mean…What's your gift?"
The crowd gasped and took a step back. The skinny woman standing in front of me didn't understand what was going on. Here she was, working on her butt since her boyfriend had told her it was getting a little too big, and now this guy had walked into the gym. She had asked him one simple question and everyone around her was acting like it was some kind of big deal… She just shook her head and stepped back.
"You see folks?" I laughed, "I have a very special talent…but it doesn't stop there… YOU!" I pointed at a short young lady standing to my right. She flinched as I snapped my finger at her and pointed to the ground by my feet. "Come here please."
She was telling herself not too. She commanded herself to make a break for the front door. Her feet weren't obeying her though. It was as if she were being pulled by a rope.
"What's your name, darling?" I asked kindly.
She swallowed and eyeballed me like a kitten, "Monica." Monica had long, dark hair. Her pale skin was complete with a beauty mark above her lip. She was wearing a purple sports bra and black spandex capris.
"Monica, I would like for you to tell us all about yourself — you're also not going to be modest about anything or leave anything out. Understand?"
Monica nodded, knowing that it would be impossible for her to keep any secrets. She just felt it. She had to tell everything.
"My name is Monica. I used to be a little overweight. I was very self-conscious all through high school and always had low self esteem. When I would masturbate as a young teen, I would imagine that I was being fucked by as many guys as possible, knowing that the more guys that liked me, the better. I now have a husband, who's a lawyer, that makes enough money for me to not have to work. I spend most of my day working out and keeping myself as attractive as possible. I worry that if I gain any of my old weight back, he won't find me attractive and will leave me. I love to read. I love doing crossword puzzles. I love independent movies. I don't like candy, but I love chocolate. I don't enjoy giving blowjobs, but I agree to do it every once and awhile. I tell my friends that I have a wild sex life, but I know that I'm a lousy lay…"
Monica looked around the room, surprised at how her mouth had seemed to move by itself.
I smiled, pleased, "Very informative, Monica." I walked behind her and put my hands on her shoulders, "Now, would you please tell the room what you would consider a 'bimbo'." I could feel her flinch at the word under my hands, knowing that she knew she would meet the fate of whatever she described. "Now, remember, you can't hold anything back."
Monica swallowed and began speaking.
"Bimbos are not respectable women…"
Monica quickly found that her words were going to have an instant effect. As she ended her first sentence, everyone in the room's opinion of Monica, even if it was nonexistent, plummeted.
"They don't do anything important. They live for themselves."
Monica's memories of having jobs before she got married suddenly disappeared. Monica had come to the realization that she had never worked a day in her life. Her job skills were no more, her social skills were laughable, and her ability to take orders was pushed into the back of her brain until it vanished.
"All they care about is make-up…"
Her face soon became covered in powder (which she had applied only minutes ago). Her eyelashes curled around until they pointed back to her forehead. Black eye-liner circles her once naked eyes, and her nude lipstick was replaced with a bright pink.
Monica's work-out outfit morphed and ripped until she was wearing a bikini-top with tiny triangles to cover her nipples. Her pants shrunk into tiny pink hot pants, leaving her asscheeks hanging out the bottom.
"…and plastic surgery…"
Monica's nose suddenly flattened at the bridge while the tip turned upwards, leaving her with a cute little button on her face. Her tummy sucked up even more, along with her thighs and her waist, leaving her looking thin and beautiful. Next, her ass filled out her hot pants. Finally, her bikini top became overflowed with huge fake tits.
"They're not smart…"
Monica felt all her years of college drift away like bubbles and pop right in front of her face. With each pop, her smile became bigger and bigger and bigger and bigger… Monica's brain slowed to a steady walk, no longer concerned with complex thinking.
"And they suck lots of cock…"
Monica giggled as her mouth began to water. She eyed my crotch.
She heard herself giggle and came up with her next description, "Oh! And, they giggle lots and talk like valley cheerleaders!"
Suddenly, Monica was dressed as a cheerleader. Her hair became long and blonde, spilling down her back. She giggled and tossed her pom-poms around in the air. She lifted her pleated skirt to show everyone that she wasn't wearing anything underneath. Everyone in the room gasped as they saw Monica's shaven, tanned cunt.
" *giggle* So, like, that's what a bimbo is and stuff," she explained in a nasally, high voice, "They're pretty much just like me *giggle*. So, like, can I suck your cock?"
I was happy to oblige.
As Monica blew me, her teased up blonde hair bouncing up and down in my lap, I turned to another woman.
"YOU! Pick someone for me to have fun with next…"
The older woman looked frightened. She looked to be about forty, but, being a member of this gym, she was looking great. "W-what?" she asked, her eyed filled with terror.
"I can't choose who to pick on next, so I want you to choose."
The woman alternated looking at my face and down at Monica sucking my dick. She glanced around the room, seeing all the frightened faces. She looked back at me, "I-I can't do this…"
I sighed. I was losing patience with this one. "Fine, your IQ is now 40."
The woman, who was a mother of two, suddenly dropped to the floor, laughing like an idiot. She couldn't understand what these things were covering up her body, but she knew they weren't comfortable. She tugged and tugged, not being able to figure how to get her shirt off. She finally ripped the neck straight down so her boobies could fall out. She drooled on herself as she discovered that she could make herself feel good if she stuck her hand down the front of her pants. She spent the rest of the day flicking her clit around in the corner of the gym, moaning and laughing to herself.
I spotted another navigator, "YOU! Guide me to my next victim."
This guy looked like he was just getting started with gym life. He was still pretty skinny, probably weighed about 140. "Me?" he asked.
I nodded, pushing Monica's head down further on my cock.
He looked around the room, not knowing if he was capable of choosing someone to have their life ruined or not. As his lip trembled, he realized it was the latter. "I…I can't…"
I sighed, getting frustrated, "Fine, but your mother is now the only girlfriend you've ever had."
Years of dating was soon erased from his mind, as memories of making out with his MILF of a mother were quickly added in. He remembered taking his mom to his high school prom. Afterwards, they had fucked in the back of her car (she had driven). Their romance had blossomed when he was about 16, when he had caught her naked in the shower. She had pulled him in with her, and the rest was history…
Now, I was getting really angry. When I get angry, I started doing drastic things. "Alright everyone. We're going to find someone selfish enough to pick another person for me so they won't meet a horrible fate themselves. All I want…is to turn a woman here into a ghetto Mexican whore. Can someone please choose someone for me? YOU!"
I pointed to a young pretty girl of 18. I could see on her gym bag that her name was Emily. It was stitched in loopy pink cursive on the front of the duffel bag.
I talked slowly for her to understand. "Choose. A. Girl. (or a guy if you want) For me. To turn. Into a ghetto Mexican whore."
Emily immediately began crying. "I can't do that!"
I tossed my hands in the air, "Well, fine then, your name is now Cum-Dumpster!"
Cum-Dumpster sucked in lungful of air as reality rewrote itself. Her parents had argued for a week before her birth whether to go with Emily or Cum-Dumpster. Since Cum-Dumpster was her mother's idea, they eventually went with that. The couple had kissed and started planning Cum-Dumpster's childhood. The kids in school had picked on Cum-Dumpster. She immediately remembered the awful things the kids would say to her:
Cum-Dumpster, Cum-Dumpster
Where to you dump your cum?
Do you pour it down you mouth,
or shoot it up your bum!?
They would laugh and laugh, pointing at Cum-Dumpster. Finally, she had gotten to high school, where her looks prevented her from any teasing. She had a place in yearbook for hottest couple (Cum-Dumpster and Ronnie). They had gone to get her driver's license together, with Cum-Dumpster written right next to her smiling face. So, Cum-Dumpster was happy now. She would lay awake at night, fantasizing where her and Ronnie's relationship would go after high school. Do you, Ronnie, take Cum-Dumpster to be your lawfully wedded wife…?
"YOU!" I shouted, pointing to a girl with fire in her eyes. "Pick someone before I turn you into a Mexican whore!"
The girl quickly pointed to a random woman, "No! Her! Pick her! Leave me alone!"
The chosen woman's jaw dropped as she saw the finger pointing at her. Her friend standing beside her flew into a rage, "You get your fucking finger away from Jan, before I come over there and break it!"
Jan's friend was named Tracy. They had been friends since high school; that had been over a decade ago. Now, they usually met together while their husbands were at work and went to the gym. Even though they would always share a cup of ice cream afterwards, they felt they were keeping in shape. Tracy was always known as the temperamental one. Jan was very laid back and casual about things. Confrontations were usually left up to Tracy. Last week, when Jan's order had gotten messed up at the Burger Shack, it had been Tracy that had cussed out the Burger Shack employees.
When Tracy looked at Jan, she saw a very strange look in her eyes. "Jan?" she asked, concerned, "Jan, are you okay?"
Jan just cut her eyes at her friend, "Pshh… Yeah, I fine. Whatchoo talkin' 'bout?"
Tracy's forehead wrinkled as she watched her friend's chestnut hair fade to black. Her eyes darkened and her skin became a deep tan color. Her nails lengthened and her shoes grew heels. A cigarette appeared in Jan's mouth, along with a half-empty pack of Marlboro's that appeared wedged between her waist and her now leather mini-skirt.
Jan spit on the ground and cocked her hip to the side. She shoved her cigarette back in her mouth and spoke around it, "Fuck, I gotta get to work." She had a deep, cocky Latino accent now.
Tracy was shocked. She shook her head, denying what she was seeing. Her best friend was now some skanky, Mexican street whore. Any faint reminder that Jan was still inside of those dark brown eyes was nonexistent. Tracy looked at me with hatred. "You sonofabitch! What did you do to her!? Change her back?! You fuck! You FUCK!"
This little pistol was getting on my last nerve.
I thought back to something I had tried out once in Mexico. I had gone on vacation there years ago; had a few laughs, a few drinks, and played around with a few Mexicans and drunk college students. I remembered one of my favorite ideas and pointed at Tracy. Her face dropped, devoid of any emotion above that of an animal. Tracy could only conjure up the most primal instincts now. Before everyone's eyes, her ears grew, her face elongated, and she fell on all fours. Just as a huge cock grew from between her legs, Tracy and Jan vanished into thin air.
Everyone gasped.
Hundreds of miles away, in a sweaty, musky Mexican bar, drunk businessmen cheered and high-fived as they laughed and took pictures of the skanky, Mexican street whore bent over while a horny donkey drilled her. "Donkey Shows" were now the central feature of Jan and Tracy's lives…
"W-Where did they go?" came a fearful voice.
I looked up to see the girl who had volunteered Jan for transformation, still stroking Monica's head. She looked like she felt horrible for passing her fate onto Jan. I calmly looked at her, "They're in a better place…" I grinned, making sure that everyone looking at me shivered. "Would you like some closure?"
The girl shook her head, not even really sure what I was talking about.
"I think you need to feel better about yourself," I suggested, "You know, so you don't feel so guilty…"
She shook her head, "No. No!" She began to back up. "You said you'd leave me alone if I picked someon — !"
Suddenly, the girl was in a box.
At least, that's what she thought.
I just erected four walls around the spot where she was standing. The girl found that she was naked. She inspected the walls surrounding her. There was no ceiling, yet she could see the ceiling of the gym above her head. She was trapped… But there were small, waist-high holes in the walls…
Darlene was an English major at the local University. She had planned to write for a newspaper. Some sort of opinion column, or maybe something with fashion. She hadn't totally decided yet. She just knew she loved the college life. She wasn't a partier. She liked the intellectualism. It was so much better than high school. Finally, it was cool to learn something. Sometimes, she wished she could stay a college student forever.
"Alright, boys. This little lady now has a new career. Why don't you put her to work?"
I stood back and watched as all the men in the gym walked up to Darlene's enclosure. They dropped their pants and stuck their dicks — big and small — through the halls along the wall.
Something tickled in Darlene's mind as she watched all the cocks appear though the wall. She got done on her knees, like she did everyday, and began going in a circle, blowing each anonymous dick that had been presented to her. She smiled as she did her job. Nothing pleased her in the world a good dick-in-the-mouth. She remembered how she had wanted to write for a newspaper at one point. Then, for no reason whatsoever, she changed her mind. She now wanted to be a professional gloryhole girl! Cum dripped from her chin as all the cocks blew their load in her eager mouth. The thought of her overflowing tip jar outside kept her going as she went to the next dick in line. She wondered what time it was and when she would get off of work.
Funny, Darlene thought, there isn't a clock or a door in this room… She didn't dwell on it too long as she moved on to drain the next guys ball sack.
I yawned, seeing the sun setting outside.
"Alright, guys, it's been fun," I said, "But I really have to go — "
I was just about to make my way outside when, in the silence, I heard that beating bass music. I pushed Monica off of my cock, walked around Darlene's work station, stepped over the dumb woman masturbating on the floor, and shoved Cum-Dumpster to the side to peer into the aerobics room to see the lines of woman through the glass wall, still sweating and kicking their feet in the air.
They had no idea what was going on.
For some reason, that really pissed me off.
These soccer moms and elementary school teachers all using their husband's money to shrink the ass that hadn't been the same since they had popped out a few kids hadn't even bothered to see all the wonderful work I had done. They were all in their thirties and forties. I figured, for their rudeness, their homelife needed a drastic overhaul.
I shook my head, and snapped my fingers.
The bass music quickly changed from a poppy, motivating beat to a thumping, techno stomp. The women, including the instructor, stopped moving and looked around the room, wondering why the music had changed. Then, just as quickly as they had stopped, they all began swaying their hips side to side and running their hands over their body. The looks on their faces changed from confused to seductive.
Then, the changes began.
Theresa Hamilton felt her waist slimming and her ass shrinking. Her sagging breasts suddenly lifted and pointed straight out from her chest. Silicone filled sacs materialized inside them, giving her an extra fake looking EE cup. She wondered what was going on, and why her hair was growing and thickening the way it was, then she told herself to stop wasting time and to practice her routine. She needed to be at work in two hours. Her boss has told her not to show up until she had perfected her pole-dancing skills. She grabbed the golden pole that had appeared beside her and began swinging around it, running her naked, tan, tattooed, and pierced body over its cold surface.
The woman were becoming more and more voluptuous. Their bodies became those of Las Vegas strippers. Their clothes vanished to show their jiggling fake tits. They studied themselves in the mirrored walls to see any faults or mistakes they were making. Most of them were too arrogant to admit they needed help with their "dancing", but, more money was enough motivation for them.
Sandra Miller felt her college education disappear as she fell into a split on the floor, making her ass bounce on the hard floor. The jolt sent the worrysome thought out of her head as she scolded herself for not grabbing her tits like she had planned to. The men want to see you grab those fake titties, Sandra, she scolded herself, no longer remembering what a logarithm was, nor caring.
Kelly Shepard looked over her shoulder as she shook her ass in the mirror. She could see the tattoo of her stage name Eternity branded on her right cheek, the tattoo that she had never gotten for the job that she had never done a day in her life. But, stripping was her life. At least that's how she felt now. She slapped her ass to see how it was looking today. Satisfied, she started running her back up and down the pole.
I had turned all the aerobics bitches into slutty, uneducated strippers. Their kids and husbands would only remember their moms and wives as always being strippers. They would now get used to a nipple-pierced, tattooed, chain-smoking whore cooking breakfast in morning, instead of the pearl-necklaced June Cleaver that had been there before.
Walking toward the front door, I slapped Monica on the ass and told her to come with me. She giggled and grabbed my hand like a lost little girl and followed me out the door.
Fuck, I love my life…
Author Rev HalePosted on December 22, 2020 December 22, 2020 Categories UncategorizedTags bimbo transformation, bimbofication, mind control, mrgrey
Books of Bimbo – Unfinished Stories
Abandoned pitches for my horribly conceived tribute to "Books of Blood" by Clive Barker
Continuing my housekeeping of old, abandoned ideas – here are some more stories from my SCRAP folder.
For anyone morbidly curious – below are pitches for my horribly conceived tribute to "Books of Blood" by Clive Barker. A few are started and abandoned; others I never got past the outline.
Continue reading "Books of Bimbo – Unfinished Stories"
Author Rev HalePosted on August 12, 2020 Categories Original StoriesTags bimbo transformation, bimbofication, mind control, my content, reality change
asian bimbo
asian stereotypes
bimbo transformation
breeding sluts
corruption accomplice
daddy daughter
iq reduction
mrgrey
mycontent
race change
raceplay
reality change
weightoftheworld Blog at WordPress.com.


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text:
La Xemeneia de Ca l'Arenes és una obra de Mataró (Maresme) protegida com a Bé Cultural d'Interès Local.

Descripció
La xemeneia pertanyent al recinte fabril de la fàbrica "Hijos de Antonio Fàbregas", situada al carrer Lepanto. Es tracta d'una obra de fàbrica tronco-cònica, llisa, amb un petit remat a la part superior. La base queda embeguda dins una construcció auxiliar. La xemeneia fou reforçada amb unes argolles de ferro per evitar que s'esberlés.

Història
Es tracta de la xemeneia de vapor que el 1856 movia la fàbrica de filats i teixits de ca l'Arenes, també coneguda pel vapor Nou. Aquest fou una de les empreses més importants de l'època. L'any 1900 l'edifici fou adquirit per la raó "Hijos de Antonio Fàbregas" que es dedicava a la fabricació de capses de cartró i després a la maipulació de paper. Aquesta empresa continua actualment en funcionament.

Referències

Patrimoni monumental de Mataró
Edificis de Mataró

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