The bimbo pill 3

chapter 1

Prolog:

Nicole exchanged glances with me. Nicole was actually my legal wife in the U.S. But after her sister Lucy had joined Nicole in taking those pills, I'd ended up sleeping with both of them. Later, they started calling themselves my sister-wives. And so, I inherited a second wife.
The pills? These are the famous Bimbo Pills that everyone saw on the National news a couple of years ago. It was an 'experimental medication' that my company (Ferman-Crane Pharmaceuticals, my former employer) maneuvered me into persuading my wife to take as a test subject. But, the company wasn't honest. They didn't tell us about the array of side affects ranging from a significant increase in bust size and libido, to the substantial loss in ability to make cognitive decisions, to the increase in appetite.
And the final affect of the medication was an indefinable thing I began to call radiance. My two had developed a glow, a radiant beauty leaving them incredibly lovely, plump but ravishingly lovely.
However as time passed, I found they had both become dumb as a post; true Bimbos in every since of the imagination.
And still, we might have been able to live a simple content life accept that the Ferman-Crane had further plans.
But, I shouldn't get ahead of myself. My wife Nicole had willingly participated in the pill experiment. She'd liked watching her breasts grow. Our love life became scorching. Prior to the pills, our relationship had been disintegrating. That damn pill saved our marriage. Yes, we probably would have gone the same route as her sister (divorce), but for these pills.
Then came her sister, Lucy. She moved in with us shortly after her own marriage failed. But then, my naughty Nicole started giving her the pills and everything became crazy. And when it all settled out, I had the sister-wives and a sex life that never stopped. Still, life in our little household was happy. (Pleasantly nutty. But, happy.)
However as I said, Ferman-Crane got greedy and everything turned upside down.
Months later, we found ourselves prisoners on an island in the Caribbean while the Company continued to experiment on my two lovely wives. Eventually, publicity brought the Company to its' knees. But by this time, the U.S. government was deeply involved in the Ferman-Crane project. This had meant helping the company usurp our constitutional rights (all in the name of national security of course).
But as the atrocities of the project started to become public, our dear Uncle Sam did an about face and was now desperately seeking a way out of this growing and embarrassing predicament.
Oh! And another detail. During this time, I'd inherited two more wives bringing my harem up to four.
In the end government rules were manipulated and strings cut and the five of us ended up owning the island, and then being recognized by the U.S. as an independent country. Added to that, our wealthy Uncle Sam decided to give our little budding country, foreign aid to the tune of four-hundred million dollars a year.
I know... Too fantastic to believe. It would seem so, wouldn't it? Maybe it was intended to buy our silence or goodwill or something.
Well, all I can say is, “American politics never cease to surprise me.”
Besides having an ungodly sum of money sitting in a Panamanian bank (the four hundred million), we'd inherited small contingency of Army medical personal dedicated to helping my ladies recover from their ordeal.
Ferman-Crane had stopped producing the pills and once again, life slowly began to improve.
Or was it?
There was one more fly in the soup...
We learned that when our supply of pills ran out, it would only be a matter of time before each of my women would become amazingly fertile and desperately hungry for insemination. Maybe I should say insanely, aggressively, hungry for sex. Records showed that this had happened in another study in India.
And still caught in the middle of all this was...
Yours truly...
The husband (Tom)

~~~~

Chapter 1

“I like eating bananas in the dark,” said Lucy, “That way, I don't have to see the brown spots.”
We were having breakfast in the Army canteen. Several of us looked up. No one bothered to respond, not even groan. My second wife had an endless supply of these inane comments. I think she actually believes what she's saying.
Her sister, Nicole exchanged glances with me.
Nicole's reasoning seemed to be slowly returning now that the pills had run out. My other two wives, Chrisie and Simone were also showing signs of regaining some of their mental acuity. But, all of them had a long way to go.. All four had been heavily sedated and strapped into milking machines for months as part of the Ferman-Crane experiments.
Now, every morning and every evening, my four still needed to walk down to the milk house for their milking. Yet, they continued to say things like having enjoyed being a cow and liking who they are now. I didn't completely understand and wasn't sure I believed them. The best description of my post-pill four was fat, dumb and happy.
However, we'd been warned that as the chemicals left their system and the hormones began to shift we'd be facing that intense need to procreate.
Sometimes, I'd notice Lucy staring at me with an odd expression.
One day I finally asked, “What? What is it?”
She quietly shook her head saying, “Oh, nothing. I'm just happy.”
I didn't believe that either.
But life was changing. As a young country, we'd now inherited a growing list of obligations. The U.N. decided to process an application for our admittance. We weren't sure we wanted that. Dignitaries from small countries around the world began to request meetings. This led to the problem of lodging and transportation. When the second installment of our foreign aid arrived in the banks, we decided to build an airport and lodging. We now had three hundred, eighty-five million in our Panamanian banks and four hundred million in our Grand Cayman banks. It continued to seem like a dream.
But now, it was topless Tuesday at the beach. (Another of Lucy's ideas.) The contingency of military women had slowly overcome their shyness and finally joined my wives on the beach. Although none of the others were nearly as busty as my four, I still liked the view. (But, I'd never admit that to anyone else.)
Sometimes, I'd see some of the military women wistfully looking in my direction. Did any of them want to join the five of us? I didn't know and I definitely wasn't about to ask. Four wives were enough.
As the bonfire began to flare up, a pot was set over it. Tonight would be jambalaya night. We added chicken and sausage and shrimp and seasonings and veggies and by the time that cool west wind started to sweep in, we'd all be sitting around the fire, eating.
It was said that Playboy magazine would drop the room temperature to fifty degrees for their playmate photo shoots. That way, the girls would stay very 'perky' on top. Based on the view around the fire, I think I that tactic must work.
But slowly, the residents on the island were knitting into a community. (Military personnel included.) This included my friend Dr. Irwin Walters who'd risked his job with the company in an effort to protect my sister-wives. Eventuality, he'd been forced out of the company. (Probably a good thing.) And when my wives were rescued, the U.S. Government reactivated his Navel commission and brought him to the island. 'Win' (Short for Irwin.) was probably the only ethical person who understood the affects of Y-47 (the pills). It was Win who'd warned us about the pending procreation problem. (If you'd call it a problem? I did.)
Now, his job is to treat all the island residents and military personnel including overseeing the well being of my four ladies. Recently, he'd proudly reported that the level of forty-seven in my girl's milk was dropping significantly.
As he put it, “This was simply another indicator that my girls would start coming into estrus soon.”
Win had also asked if it was possible to bring his wife to the island and create a permanent residence here. Having other permanent residents was something we hadn't previously thought about. I promised to bring this up at the next kitchen cabinet meeting with the wives.
Then he dropped a bomb, “Tommy, we found a hidden compartment with more pills. A lot of pills. You need to see this.”



Note: A new chapter will be posted within two days and every day or two thereafter until our story is concluded.
This is my promise.
I hope you enjoy.
JM