The pink sloppy gunk began to brew as a pink translucent liquid began to pump in. Dr. Grant realized his grave error: he had left the anti-bimbo serum file open before doing the experiment. The virus may become resistant to it if the two combine.
But alas, it was too late: the bimbos were already noshing down the serum infused mush. They writhe and trembled and groaned as the serum slop affected them.
Grant closed his eyes tight with fear of the worst. But then he heard a collective "Huh?" from the bimbos and opened them.
The women looked at him and bombarded him with questions:
"Where am I?"
"Who are you?"
"Why are we strapped down?"
"Why are we naked?!"
"Why are my breasts so massive?!"
"Dude, why am I a chick?!"
On top of this, their nipples had softened and their clits had stopped oozing cum.
Grant called in the General, who looked upon the crowd with cautious pleasure.
The ladies were let go and tested: none of them could transmit the transformative virus anymore, and they could function at higher than bimbo level. They had no memories of being bimbos, but that did not matter to Grant. He had done it, he had found the cure.
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Ending: A Bimbo Blood World
"And so, the cure, Compound A25, sped around the country via air drop and in truck disguised as gum. In two-and-a-half months, the virus had ceased to affect people in the U.S. For five years after, America began to adjust to a new society. A quarter of the population was dead, the other half living as women known as bimbo bloods. These curvaceous women often passed their traits onto their children, leading to them developing faster in sexual maturity. This has been a story from the point of my mother, Cailin Greys, thank you."
The 13 year old got and walked to her seat. She had white hair, green eyes, and most notably, rather large curves for a thirteen year old (her bust was 38 B).
"Thank you Sam." her bimbo blood teacher said; her bust was size D easily.
These ladies were two out of forty in the whole school.
Bimbo bloods were well integrated into society by this day, fifteen years following the discovery of Dr. Grant's cure. I should know, I married one.
"Mona, are you narrating in your head again?" Cailin asked.
"Yes honey, I am." I admitted.
We shared a chuckle and a kiss as we left the school assembly for this, Dr. Grant Day.