Chapter Seven

Kennedy kicked off his high heels and exasperatedly slumped on the bed after an exhausting week of work. The six-year-old little bundle of joy Kennedy had been charged with caring for may have a heart of gold, but she was undoubtedly hard work.

The pink-haired undercover journalist was relieved to finally have a moment to himself. It was a Saturday, and Dominic had taken Abby and his mother to an amusement park. Kennedy was invited along, but he was tired of putting on the bimbo persona that came so naturally to his conditioned psyche and wanted a day where he could be himself and do nothing.

He thought back to the previous weekend. Kennedy hadn’t seen Duke since their fateful date when the redhead pulled the curtain back and revealed just how much power he could have over the valley girl bimbo. Kennedy was lucky he didn’t expose his true identity when he was put under, but the information he did reveal felt just as horrifying. Kennedy would be happy if he had never seen that arrogant man ever again.

While all members of the Russo family were out of the house, Kennedy wasn’t entirely alone in the large manor. As he lay comfortably on his bed, he was jolted up by the screeching sound of smashing plates on the lower floor.

Kennedy immediately rose to his feet and ran downstairs to investigate the commotion. Entering the dining room, he discovered a latex-clad, hooded French maid standing over a mount of shattered crockery on the floor. The maid was gagged with a large red ball gag, wearing impossibly en-pointe glossy black, and her upper arms were cuffed with a taut leather pole running between them, severely restricting her movement.

Although anyone staring at the fetish beauty would only see an anonymous doll, Kennedy knew her as Alyssa Scaletti, Vincent’s former personal assistant. The young woman initiated a fling with Kennedy back when he was a high-flying local journalist, and her blabbering mouth gave the journalist the information he needed to unintentionally alter their lives forever.

After Alyssa went missing, everyone assumed Vincent had discovered her involvement and arranged to have her buried six feet under. Staring at the silent bondage maid, Kennedy wasn’t sure her ultimate fate was any better.

The doll stared back in frozen fear. There was no recognition in the maid’s eyes, and she clearly wondered how the new nanny would react to her destructive mistake. The pink-haired barefoot bimbo cautiously approached the maid, tiptoeing around the broken ceramic, and slowly began unlacing the doll’s hood.

Kennedy was curious, and he wanted to see the beautiful face of his former fling once more. His old life felt like a million years ago, and he yearned for some reminder of those better days.

Just as the former journalist began unlacing the back of the maid’s hood, his eyes widened in horror as he felt a calloused hand grip his long pink ponytail.

“What do we have here?” The masculine Italian-American tone of the patriarch, Vincent Russo, sent shivers down the new bimbo’s spine. Why was he in the house? How was Kennedy going to get out of this mess?

“Uhmm, hi, Mr Russo,” Kennedy spoke in his sweet bimbo accent, slowly turning around the face of the large man. The undercover journalist once again stood face-to-face with the powerful mob boss, which felt no less terrifying. “I, umm, y’know. Like, I wanted to see her pretty face, y’know?” His words came out stuttered and babbling.

Despite his stoic face, Kennedy noticed the man’s lips briefly upturn into a smile, but the bimbo wasn’t sure if that was a good thing. “Do you like playing with my toys, Suzie?” He asked, taking a step forward, forcing the pink-haired transformed man to retreat one step backward.

“N- no, Mr. Russo,” Kennedy stammered again. “I, like, would never want to touch your things without permission.” He blinked his doe-like eyes, trying to appear as innocent and harmless as possible.

The older man folded his arms, enjoying the diminutive woman’s fear in his presence. “Very good,” he finally replied. He stepped up to a cabinet and pulled out a fierce-looking black riding crop. The man reapproached the bimbo and slipped the crop into her hands.

“It looks like our maid has made a mess here,” he commented, glancing down at the broken crockery. “How about you teach the servant a lesson? I think twenty swats should do.” Kennedy was crestfallen. Vincent expected him to punish his former lover?

“Mr Russo, like, I’m not sure I cou-” Kennedy replied.

“That is an order, Suzie,” the patriarch’s voice bellowed in a commanding tone.

The busty undercover bimbo nodded in resignation. She looked at the fearful slave and mimed an apology before taking grip of the latex-clad maid’s collar and forcing her to bend over the dining table, the maid’s shiny ass helplessly propped up in the air.

*Swack* “Mpphh!” The maid cried out as the crop hit her ass for the first time. Kennedy hadn’t even used any notable force on the strike. Still, the crop was fierce and delivered a jolting sting with minimal pressure.

*Swack* Kennedy gasped as he heard his former lover cry out again. The guilt of seeing the woman in this helpless position, all because he betrayed her trust for a story, began to overwhelm the busty bimbo, and his hands shuddered as he delivered the third strike.

“Harder,” If Vincent noticed Kennedy’s apprehension, he didn’t show it. He was enjoying the site of an attractive woman punishing the girl who betrayed him at his command.

Kennedy reluctantly picked up the pace and delivered multiple smacks to the maid’s rear. The latex uniform covered the bruised rump of Alyssa, but the resulting agony couldn’t be hidden beneath the gagged woman’s eyes.

“Nineteen,” Vincent declared when Kennedy delivered the penultimate strike. Before the bimbo could smack Alyssa’s ass one final time, Vincent yanked the crop from her hand and delivered an earth-shattering thwack of his own. Alyssa would have crashed to the floor if it hadn’t been for the support of the table under her.

“Now, clean up this mess, doll,” he commanded the gagged rubber maid before turning his attention to a nervous Kennedy. “You did well, girl,” he praised the pink-haired transformed man. “Perhaps your talents are being wasted here.” He glanced the slim woman up and down. “Well, perhaps not.” He chuckled.

“Speaking of talents,” he continued. “You still owe me after touching my things without permission.” His words prompted Kennedy to shudder. What did he want from him? “One of my girls didn’t show up for work last night, and I need someone to cover her absence while we look for her.” The large gray-haired man’s eyes rested on Kennedy’s impressive chest. “I think you have the assets to help me out.”

Kennedy’s big blue eyes grew wider. “Uhmm, like, Sir. Thank you, but I’m totally not…” The bimbo tried to worm his way out of it.

“Silence,” Vincent bellowed. He slipped a torn piece of paper from his jacket pocket and handed it to the undercover journalist. “I need you at this address by 8 tonight. This isn’t a request, Suzie.”

The man didn’t give Kennedy a chance to respond. He stepped past the busty transformed man, giving him a gentle smack on the rear before leaving him alone. Kennedy peered down at the address scrawled on the paper and gulped nervously. What had he gotten himself into this time?

❖

Across town, Kayla Connors, the transformed busty blond undercover FBI agent, was sitting opposite her new fiance, Alex Russo, in a fancy restaurant for a lunch date. Alex was reading through a wedding catalog. On the other hand, Kayla had no intention of showing interest in the ‘best day of her life.’

After her new fiance was released from jail a couple of weeks ago, he revealed that he was aware of the blond’s conditioning. There were no signs that he had discovered Kayla’s true identity or that she had put him and his brother away in the first place, but she couldn’t resist any of her fake former lover’s commands.

The conditioning was designed to help Kayla blend into her new undercover role and make it difficult to reveal herself accidentally. When she pretended she was into Alex Russo as part of her cover, the dumb conditioning imprinted on her and ensured she would do whatever it took to keep up the facade.

“Look at that wedding arch,” Alex commented. “That would look great in photos.” Kayla rolled her eyes at his statement. The Russo twins had spent two years inside because of Kayla’s hard work, and now she was paying the price because the family convinced a small-time lackey to admit to the crimes Alex had committed.

“You know,” Alex looked up and grinned at his fiance. “You can either pretend to be happy as we plan our big day, or I can force you to.” He chuckled. The young Russo had enjoyed toying with his girl since he discovered her conditioning. He liked using the mind control against her, but he particularly loved making her ‘choose’ to obey him in fear.

Kayla shuddered and straightened her back. Her plump lips curled into a broad smile, and she looked the picture of a doting girlfriend. “Of course, sweetie,” she said in her thick Jersey girl accent. You always have the best taste.” She leaned in and kissed her boyfriend. The taste of his lips was still awful, but anything was better than allowing him to control her like a puppet again. Since Kayla’s old FBI contact, Peter Lutz, had disappeared, the intelligent undercover agent had been forced to navigate her mission blind.

Alex casually groped his fiance’s barely covered breasts in the middle of the restaurant. “Mmmm, I love your updated style, Bella.” Kayla shuddered. Since adopting the Bella Bianchi identity, Kayla’s formerly conservative style had taken on a much more liberal, slutty appearance to fit in with her brash beauty stylist personality. However, Alex had enforced an even stricter dress code that Kayla couldn’t prevent herself from following.

She no longer wore bras or panties. Alex was impressed how Kayla’s obviously fake tits were fixed high on her chest without any support and encouraged her to demonstrate their buoyancy. The no-pantie rule wouldn’t have been so bad if she were allowed to wear pants, but that privilege had also disappeared. She was instructed always to wear high heels, even when exercising, and she couldn’t be seen in public without a thick face of makeup. It had been a while since she stepped outside her apartment without makeup on her face anyway, but she still hated that the option was taken away from her.

“Good girl,” Alex whispered, prompting a shudder from his new fiance. The undercover agent hated the sudden pleasure that hit her between her legs every time he used that phrase. “Now, there is another matter to attend to.”

Despite her outward smile, Kayla’s eyes portrayed her inner turmoil. She looked at Alex quizzically. “The wedding can’t go ahead unless Stefano is here with us,” he said. “We need a plan that will spring him out of jail.” Kayla softly bit a bright red lower lip; there was a glimmer of hope. Alex won’t let the wedding proceed unless his twin is out of jail. Kayla needed to do everything possible to keep that man inside. She just needed to bide enough time before her new FBI handler contacted her, whenever that may be.

❖

Kennedy sat alone in his favorite coffee shop. He needed to leave the house after this morning’s incident with Vincent and Alyssa; this was his chosen place of solitude. Despite his eagerness for some alone time, he had already had to reject the advances of two men wanting to join him. However, considering how sexy he looked in his outfit, no one could blame them.

He was wearing a glittery pink two-piece tracksuit. The thin straps ran over his shoulders and created a plunging neckline, showing off the majority of his mountainous breasts. The top stopped just shy of his pierced navel and showed off his cute lower back. The matching leggings covered his entire lower body, but they were fit so tightly that they gave him a front and back wedgie. His pink 4” stilettos showed that he had no intention of exercising in the Barbie-styled outfit today.

Sipping his chai latte, Kennedy thought back to his date with Duke a week ago. He had spent all week trying to forget how it ended, but he knew he would need to confront the developments sooner or later. Then there was his job tonight. His undercover background was working with children, and he landed a job looking after Dominic Russo’s six-year-old daughter. Kennedy never thought he would be stuck in this position.

A nondescript man wearing a large trench coat sat on the adjacent table. He picked the seat directly behind the pink-haired undercover journalist. The man’s presence brought Kennedy out of his daydream. He turned his head to address the man sitting so close behind him, but he was cut short. “Stop. Just stare forward and act normal.” Kennedy shuddered. What was going on here?

“It’s vital for your safety that you don’t raise attention,” the man instructed. “Just sip your coffee and act like you’re not listening.” Kennedy absently sipped his coffee. He had no idea what was happening, but something told him he needed to trust this man.

“What-” Kennedy started to say in his sweet bimbo voice, but the man had no time for that.

“No questions,” he commanded. “Just listen.” Kennedy’s heart began to beat a million miles an hour.

“Your partner, Agent Connors, has been compromised,” the nondescript man said. Kennedy’s big blue eyes widened further. What did he mean? “You can’t trust her with your intel any longer. She used the information you uncovered about the warehouse shipment to throw us off the Russo trail. She may now be working for them.” Kennedy shook his head. He had spoken to Kayla a few days ago. Despite her loathing of him, the undercover agent was still as committed to ending this investigation as Kennedy was.

“I will be your new contact,” the man revealed. “You will only tell me of the information you discover.” He reached into a pocket inside his large trench coat and pulled out a white envelope before sticking it to the underside of the man’s table.

“Once I leave, take the envelope beneath this table,” the ominous man instructed. “Inside, there is an address and a date. Make sure you are there. Don’t be late.” And with his final word, the man stood up, straightened his jacket, and left the coffee shop. Kennedy never even had the opportunity to see the man’s face.

The pink-haired transformed man switched to the adjacent table. He slid his well-manicured fingers along the underside until he found the envelope. He nervously opened it up to discover an address just five minutes walk from the Russo manor, with Monday’s date written beneath it. Perhaps Kennedy could convince the man to pull him from the mission altogether. Everything had begun to spiral out of control. He worriedly slid back over to his table and finished his coffee before leaving. He needed to prepare for work tonight.

❖

Alex and Kayla strolled along the red carpet. They stepped through the VIP entrance of Lavender Pleasures, Vincent Russo’s flagship gentleman’s club in the heart of the Boardwalk. Alex was wearing a plain white t-shirt and ripped blue denim jeans. He was never one for dressing up, and his casual look contrasted with the atmosphere his father tried to maintain.

Kayla, conversely, looked stunning in a knee-length silver dress that sparkled in the dimly lit entrance. The asymmetrical dress strapped over one shoulder and showed off her generous cleavage. Her nipples could be seen protruding against the thin dress, revealing her lack of a bra to everyone.

The sound of Kayla’s 5” stiletto heels echoed in the hallway as they made their way into the large centerpiece room. It looked like your typical high-end strip club. Red and black were prominent colors throughout the decor. There was a long bar on the far side of the hall, with a much smaller bar near the entrance. Several empty bird cages were hanging from the ceiling, and a large center stage dominated the middle of the room.

“Doesn’t it look great?” Alex asked his dressed-up future bride.

“These places aren’t exactly my thing,” Kayla sarcastically replied.

Alex narrowed his eyes. She had been abrupt and rude to him throughout the day, and he had just about enough of it. “Actually, Bella,” he said, “You absolutely love these types of places. They are your favorite places to hang out.”

The busty blond shuddered. She hated the tackiness of these adult-only environments. Yet, as much as she tried to hold on, all negative emotions about the club disappeared from her. That bastard had done it again.

“Let’s try again,” he grinned. “Doesn’t this place look great?”

“Yea, babe,” Kayla admitted begrudgingly. “I just love it.”

“Good girl,” Alex complimented her as he patted her on the ass. The undercover agent shuddered, both from the enforced pleasure his words created and the large plug wedged inside her ass, adjusting inside her every time she stepped forward.

The pair moved to a cordoned-off area along the stage and were greeted by Dominic, Duke, Charisma, and Chad. “Wow, babe, you look stunning,” Charisma told Kayla. As a dancer herself, Charisma was not shy in showing off her own body.

The group engaged in playful conversation, with Kayla and Charisma ultimately becoming the punchline in most of the jokes. Several dancers came over to entice the men away, but they resisted for now. Topless waitresses occasionally approached with fresh trays of cocktails.

“So, where is Suzie anyway?” Charisma turned to her brother. Duke grinned just as the lights in the room dimmed further, and a bright spotlight appeared on the stage, highlighting the dancing pole in the center.

“Well, aren’t you great at timing?” He joked to his sister and nodded towards the stage.

The group stared up and gasped when they saw the pink-haired bimbo standing beside the pole wearing a fluorescent pink string bikini. Her bright blue doe-like eyes were wide and innocent as she glanced into the crowd. She looked out of her element as if she was an overdeveloped college co-ed auditioning for the first time.

Kennedy couldn’t identify the darkened faces of the crowd. The spotlight was on him, and everyone else became anonymous. What was he doing on stage? Why had he gone through with this?

The music started, and Kennedy’s entire body language transformed. His ass began sexily swaying to the rhythm; his hands took hold of the silver pole, and his doe-like face became the image of flirtation and seduction. The transformed man moved effortlessly around the stage in his impractical stripper heels, dancing like a seasoned professional. The audience cheered in delight, prompting his body to flaunt itself further. Kennedy had no control over his actions. He had no idea how to dance like a stripper, but his body did.

After performing a chair spin on the pole, Kennedy dropped to his knees and crawled sensually to the edge of the stage. Without a care in the world, he reached behind his back and loosened the string, keeping his bikini top together. A huge cheer followed as the undercover journalist removed his bra, revealing his impressive F-cup breasts to the entire establishment. Kennedy glanced down at his boyfriend and kissed him before tossing the bikini top in his direction.

“Wow, where did she learn to move like that?” Chad asked the group. Duke grinned wider and winked at his sister’s boyfriend, holding up the trophy top.

“She has a lot of secret talents,” he joked. The truth was that her surprising skills weren’t entirely natural. Duke had implanted those subconscious skills inside Kennedy’s mind. Skills the journalist never knew he possessed until the music started this evening.

“I think her talents are being wasted as Abby’s nanny,” Charisma nudged Dominic. The heir to the Russo fortune struggled to tear his eyes from the stage.

“Yea,” was all he replied, enthralled by the sexual dance on stage.

After four songs of intense, sensual dancing, the music came to a halt, and the audience near the stage applauded. Kennedy was panting heavily, and sweat glistened from his topless body. He was exhausted.

The pink-haired valley girl carefully descended the steps in her clear stripper heels and approached the group. They all congratulated the bimbo on a great set, hugging her bare-breasted body. Eventually, Kennedy reached Duke, and the well-built, tall man immediately pressed his lips against the undercover journalist’s mouth.

A member of security almost stepped in to break the pair up before Dominic interrupted. He gave the security man a $50 bill, and the uniformed man left them in peace.

Kennedy felt unwelcome butterflies flutter inside his stomach as the man’s lips pressed firmly against his own. He wasn’t into men. He was a womanizing player in his original body. These feelings weren’t natural.

“So, umm,” Kennedy whispered after they broke the kiss. “Can you, like, give me my top back?” He fluttered his long, dark eyelashes playfully. He still hated how stupid he sounded when he spoke, but it was even more horrifying how natural it had begun to sound.

“Mmm, sure, babe,” Duke teased, keeping the top and arm’s length away from his almost naked girlfriend. “But if you want it back, you better give me a sexy private dance first.” He grinned boyishly.

Kennedy giggled like a boy-obsessed schoolgirl. “Ohh, yay,” he chirped before taking the tall man’s hand and leading him away from everyone else towards the private rooms. The group hollered and cheered the pair as they walked away. Kayla rolled her eyes. Was that cheating asshole actually enjoying himself? She wondered.

❖

The group stayed until the club shut down at 3 am. Each man had several private dancers from the scantily clad women circling the room. However, Duke wouldn’t allow the others to sample Kennedy’s stripping talents for themselves.

A topless waitress brought the group over one final round of drinks before she could clock off, and the group toasted to a great evening. They continued in jovial conversation as Duke drunkenly groped his girlfriend’s barely covered chest as the former journalist sat on his lap.

Kennedy turned to his possessive fake boyfriend and whispered. “Like, I’m just going to change into something more comfortable.”

“Mmm,” Duke replied. “I think you look just fine as you are.” He said as he squeezed Kennedy’s breasts tighter.

The pink-haired transformed man giggled. “Naughty boy,” he patted away the man's hand playfully. “But, like, seriously. I just need to get changed.”

“Augh, okay, babe,” Duke replied reluctantly. “I’ll be waiting here when you get back.” He loosened his grip on the woman on his lap and allowed Kennedy to totter off backstage.

Kennedy shuddered as he walked away. Nothing made sense to him anymore. Why did he act like such a pathetic, doting girlfriend to Duke in front of everyone else? It was as though he had turned into his own perfect lover.

It didn’t take the pink-haired bimbo long to get changed. All the other dancers had long gone, and Kennedy was left alone backstage. He slipped into a white low-cut corsetted bustier, propping his impressive cleavage even further on his chest, and a pair of tight denim cut off short.

As he left the dressing room, he noticed Dominic leaving the managers off. Kennedy stepped back to hide from his boss as the young man hurriedly walked down the corridor.

Once the coast was clear, Kennedy carefully tottered towards the office. He noticed a code lock on the door but found the door hadn’t closed entirely, allowing the pink-haired undercover man to enter.

His heart raced as he glanced around the room, looking for any clues about what Dominic was doing in the office or any evidence that may help him escape his hellish predicament.

Kennedy’s bright blue eyes widened in anticipation when he noticed a crooked painting on the wall. Approaching the image of the Atlantic City landscape, he carefully removed it from the wall. A small safe was hidden behind the painting, and the safe was inexplicably unlocked.

The former man glanced back at the door to ensure the coast was clear before he slipped a manicured hand inside the almost empty safe. His plump, bright pink lips parted, and the bimbo let out an audible gasp as he stared at the item he had pulled out. What had he just discovered?

End of Chapter Seven