Meanwhile, on the BLISS Pleasure Cruise ship, Max escorted an intoxicated Mrs. Bronson deep within the bowels of the large luxury boat. The middle-aged woman clung tightly to the man's arm, more to keep herself upright than as a sign of affection for the physically fit French man. She had become so distracted by everything going on around her ever since she began drinking the delicious champagne. The hard-bodied men that were guests of the cruise in their little swim suits had caused the normally-focused woman to keep her head on a constant swivel and the women, which were odd combinations of super models and silicone-pumped pornstars with the huge, jiggling breasts were also quite distracting.
Currently, Mrs. Bronson's eyes were locked on the swaying ass of the girl in front of them. The brief, see-through material of the little slut's mini dress revealed the daring bikini beneath, and Mrs. Bronson almost drooled at how the woman's round backside looked with the thong bikini bottoms squeezed snugly between both fleshy cheeks. The haughty middle-aged woman never dared look at other women this way. It simply wouldn't have done in the snobbish, conservative, upper-class circles she associated with and frankly, she always thought attraction between the sexes as something to always, frankly, disgusting. But here she was, wet between the legs as she took in this unbelievably...hot...girl in front of her.
Finally, Max brought Mrs. Bronson to a small, dimly-lit room. Most of that dim light came from television screens mounted on the walls, each displaying one of the various 'procedures' going on around the ship. Mrs. Bronson, through her cloudy, inebriated eyes, could see some women having their hair done, some having hard-bodied attendants massaging their ever-softening, curvaceous forms, others going through what appeared to be a radical form of plastic surgery and a few who just looked to be sunbathing on the deck. In a slow cycle, the numerous cameras zoomed in and focused on the small, wireless earbuds emblazoned with the BLISS logo. Mrs. Bronson saw that all the women shown seemed to be wearing these tiny headphones. Max noticed the woman's hazy curiosity and decided to explain things.
"You see, Madame. We treat our female guests like queens, pampering them and promising the very best experience money can buy and all the while we are influencing the way they think and act with those little headphones. Little voices. They speak to them through soft, pleasant music. They give them lessons on how to behave aboard the ship. They tell them to relax and do whatever I or my staff tell them and they go along with it all. It is a most delicious process. You understand, no?" Max spoke, while glancing over at Mrs. Bronson, who was motioning for Holli to pour her more champagne. She had a dreamy, content look on her face and Max, seeing what a state the stuck-up woman was in, pressed a button on the remote control he had in his hand and soon soft, orchestral music began to play.
"Hmm," Mrs. Bronson spoke, smiling at Holli. She instantly found herself enjoying the music in her dreamy state, "That is nice."
"Then we begin to go in deep with their makeovers and even their 'selective' cosmetic surgeries. That is how we make a plain, yet pretty girl, like your dear Georgina into this," Max went on, "You see for yourself now."
"Georgina!" Mrs. Bronson spat, this time spit had flown out of her mouth as her serene expression soon morphed into that of utter contempt and disdain for the very thought of her step-daughter, "That little bitch."
"Excusez-moi, Madame. You see for yourself now," Max repeated, stepping away from the woman and toward the far wall. He pressed another button on his remote control and the wall, which was actually a collection of shades, rolled up and revealed large windows that overlooked a sterile-looking room. Everything in the room was white, from the floor, to the ceiling, the walls and even the furniture. It was an odd sight to Mrs. Bronson, who looked back and forth from Max to the room. There was nobody inside of it, and she was confused.
"That's great, Max... A room," Mrs. Bronson drawled, frustration evident in her somewhat spaced out voice, when Max looked over at her, he raised his eyebrows expectantly and looked down. Just then, a door opened to reveal three shapely figures whom then stepped inside the room below. With a dubious raised eyebrow, Mrs Bronson noted that each girl was wearing what had to be at least seven-inch pumps that caused them all to saunter in their steps, their backs arched and enormous breasts thrust out. She quickly deduced that the two on the outside were meant to be nurses, or at least ultra-voluptuous sluts that dressed like nurses. Their perfectly white, spandex mini dresses with the scooping necklines showcases their tremendous pair of wobbling breasts and the hems of their skirts rode dangerously hight to reveal their own rounded asscheeks. And yet, it was the girl in the middle that drew the middle-aged woman's attention the most. It made Mrs. Bronson wonder if it could possibly be true.
"Max..is that.." she asked, wonderment evident in her droopy, intoxicated eyes, "Could it be?"
"Oui, Madame. And what good eyes you have," Max said with a smirk, "Little Georgina. The little thorn in your side has blossomed," Max said, but Mrs. Bronson was utterly transfixed by what she was seeing.
The short, one-time rail-thin girl, walked into the room completely naked, save for the towering heels, with her breasts jiggling at every step. From the tips of her toes, past her now perfect hourglass figure and huge tits, to her now lustrous and shiny hair, the girl had been truly transformed. Even her very facial features had been altered, her cheeks, lips and eyes had all clearly had work done. Her light-brown hair had been done up in a ponytail, seemed to be all she retained from her former life, but even that now shone with a healthy aurora that hadn't been there before. To put it simply, Georgina looked like a completely different person and Mrs. Bronson couldn't have been happier at the utter downfall of her husband's prized daughter.
"Oh, Max," Mrs. Bronson gushed, looking over at him with an ecstatic expression on her face, "I could kiss you!"
"Non need, Madame Bronson," Max said, smiling at the older woman, "It is what we do."
"Please, call me Claire!" Mrs. Bronson said, her gaze turning back to Georgina. An uncharacteristic contented moan escaped Claire Bronson's lips, and her eyes became lidded. Max noticed this, but apparently, the middle-aged woman did not. Instead, she simply looked down at Georgina as the nurses on either side of her ran their gloved hands over the changed girl's smooth skin, feeling up her now-huge, perfectly spherical tits that stuck out from Georgina's chest. The girl seemed to be enjoying herself, her eyes half-lidded and she smiled appreciatively at her two new friends. All the while, the music in the room played on and seeped directly into the older woman's mind. Slowly, Claire gave her lips a long, wet lick at what she was observing.
Max smiled at this latest development. Things were progressing nicely with the middle-aged woman. Thanks to the subliminal music sowing the seeds for Claire's own special time on the cruise, the goldigger would soon be eating out of the palm of his hand, obeying his every command and best of all, giving him all of her money. A chime from Holli's pocket then caught the man's attention and he calmly accepted the small electronic tablet his sexed-up assistant offered him after fishing it out of her pocket. The message prompt on the screen made his smile even broader, and Max himself had to suppress a joyful laugh. The mutant woman known as Storm had accepted his invitation to the cruise.
Everything was proceeding just as he had planned. Just then, someone entered the white room and took in Georgina's voluptuous body.