The Coffee Shop 2: Coffee Wars
(Contains tit- and cunt-busting, casual castration and big tit theme)
Sequel to The Coffee Shop. Please read in order.
‘I miss Jack so much,’ said Gemma, staring at the framed photograph of an uneasy-looking young man presenting his pink and swollen genitals between two slices of bread.
‘Yeah,’ said Lilly, reaching out her hand to stroke his bloated balls, ‘I miss him too... If only we’d left him one nut, he’d still be fun to have around – boys get all compliant when they’ve only got one.’
‘Yeah,’ said Gemma in an uneasy chuckle. She realised that Lilly missed the boy in the photograph for very different reasons than her own. She missed him because she had cared for him.
If there was one word Gemma would have used to describe herself it was caring. Sadly, the one word others used to describe her was “blonde”. They would no doubt throw in “with huge tits,” but “blonde” managed to encapsulate not only her looks, but her personality as well. This isn’t to say that Gemma was dumb, but what intellect she did have was obscured completely by her stunningly naivety.
It was this naivety which shielded her from the every day onslaught of male lust and female envy that came with having the biggest, bounciest breasts in the room; an onslaught that would make a more perceptive woman hide such an extraordinary chest under several layers of clothing.
Gemma’s chest, however, was, as usual, anything but hidden: they were all but hanging out of a flimsy white top which boasted a neckline which plunged so deep over the immense swell of her rack that it didn’t reach its apex until an inch or so below the point where her full, juicy tits met and flattened against one another into a deep straight line of cleavage. In such a garment, the top-heavy girl’s tits seemed themselves top-heavy; seeming to lean forward out of the top and be forever on the brink of spilling free.
Beyond her hair and her jugs, Gemma was fairly unremarkable. Her face was always bright, but somewhat plain; her legs were quite short and her arse lacked character, so it was lucky for her that no one ever managed to see past that hair and those jugs.
‘Are you still spouting my wisdom like it’s your own?’ asked Jamie, who had overheard her younger sister’s assertion about boys with one testicle.
‘I’ve left plenty of boys with one,’ said Lilly, defensively.
Jamie may have been her big sister, but Lilly knew that she was bigger in the one place that mattered to Jamie: the rack; nothing bordering on the magnitude of Gemma’s melons, but Lilly believed in quality over quantity, and her tits were faultless orbs of doughy, pendulous tit-meat.
‘Yeah, but for how long?’ asked Jamie, knowingly. ‘The time it takes them to regain consciousness?’ She shook her head. ‘You’re just in it for the quick thrill, Lilly, whereas I’ve got loads of one-ballers eating out of the palm of my hand... or whatever else I want them to eat out for that matter.’
After the coffee shop’s last new hire had lasted a mere day, the girls had decided that hiring another boy was probably a bad idea if they were to solve their staff shortage for any length of time, and so Jamie had been hired. And while she had no experience in the service industry and lacked any sort of people skills, she did have an unrivalled of knowledge of the coffee shop’s number one conversation topic: ball-busting.
‘One... ballers?’ asked Judie, stepping into the back room from the shop.
‘Yeah, Lilly was just saying how we should have left Jack with a nut so we could—’
Judie spat. The others looked at her with shock.
‘He deserved to lose both,’ she said, incensed.
Judie was still, quite literally, sore from when Jack had mistakenly plunged his thick rod into her without warning or consent. Her chest heaved and pushed her perfectly semi-spherical tits up into her blouse until her stiff nipples threatened to tear through the cotton.
‘Oh... yeah,’ said Jamie, biting her plump bottom lip. ‘I forgot he stuck it in you, Judie. Sorry.’ Jamie turned to the others and grimaced at her own carelessness.
‘It’s okay,’ Judie said, finally. ‘He paid for it.’
Gemma bit her lip; she wanted to tell Judie the whole thing had been a misunderstanding; that Jack had made a mistake and that it was her he had meant to stick it into, but she knew it was too late. The truth wouldn’t stop Judie feeling so violated or give Jack back his testicles. So she held her tongue and nodded along with the other girls.
‘Oh,’ said Judie suddenly remembering the reason she had come into the back of the shop. ‘The new shop across from us is opening.’
‘I wonder what it’s going to be,’ said Lilly, as they all walked through to the front and watched the shutters begin to rise on the unit directly opposite. She rested her elbows on the counter and continued, ‘I hope it’s a shoe shop. Oh, and I hope it’s full of fit cock we can ogle.’
On queue, four handsome young men came out of the shop carrying small tables.
‘Yes!’ cheered Lilly, pumping her fist.
‘What are they doing with those tables,’ asked Gemma, with a concerned frown.
‘Uh-oh,’ said Jamie, ducking her head to see under the rising shutters. ‘Is that a coffee machine I see in there?’
Suddenly lights flickered behind the plastic sign above the shop and spelled out the words: Café Français, Authentic French Coffee.
‘Well, that settles it,’ said Gemma, glumly.
‘Well, done, Lil,’ said Jamie.
‘What did I do?’
‘You hoped for fit cock.’
‘I didn’t hope it’d be a coffee shop. Besides, are we really scared of a bunch of guys? Who’d buy coffee from them when they could be buying it from four smokin’ hot girls?’
‘Er, women,’ answered Jamie in a sneer which caused Lilly to go into a sulk.
‘So we lose half our customers,’ said Gemma trying to sound upbeat, ‘we still have the male vote.’
As the four boys were setting down their heavy tables, a shorter, slighter figure stepped out of the shop carrying a single chair, but struggling.
‘Here you are,’ said Judie. ‘There is always a weakling.’
Light fell across the figure and the girls gasped: it was a girl.
‘Shit, she’s younger than you, Lil,’ said Jamie, as the light crept up her young legs and tiny waist.
‘And she’s prettier than you,’ exclaimed Judie, when her beautiful face was illuminated.
‘Excusez-moi,’ came the girl’s call for assistance in a sultry French tongue.
‘And she’s a sexier kind of European than you,’ said Lilly, in astonishment.
When one of the boys rushed over and took the chair from her, the girls got their first glimpse of the new nemesis in full frontal, and all their jaws dropped simultaneously.
‘That’s impossible,’ gasped Gemma, her voice trembling. ‘She’s even got bigger boobs than me!’
‘We’re screwed,’ said Judie, throwing down her apron before storming into the back of the shop.
‘What are you talking about?’ asked Jamie, as Judie disappeared out of view. She went to follow, but a sudden banging at the front door stopped her in her tracks. The girls turned to see an irritated man giving them all a stern stare. He tapped his watch impatiently.
‘Oh, this prick,’ said Lilly, with a sigh. ‘Every fucking morning at five-to-eight he’s banging. We’re not open yet!’ she yelled at him. He didn’t hear her through the glass. He banged once more on the door.
‘I’ll handle this,’ said Jamie; marching out from behind the counter with purpose. She reached the door quickly and looked the man in the eyes before gesturing that he come closer with a wag of her finger.
The man frowned, but stepped a little close to the door. Not satisfied, Jamie wagged her finger again, and again the man stepped closer. This time he pressed his ear against the glass expecting her to say something, but Jamie was a woman of actions not words.
She dipped quickly and thrust her hand through the letterbox to catch a handful of the man’s trouser meat. The man went up on tiptoes before Jamie yanked the tender handful though the mail slot and he had no choice but to slam himself violently into the locked door to prevent his sack from being torn off.
Tightening her grip on the man’s package, Jamie couldn’t help but smile with satisfaction when her probing fingers found two rubbery orbs in amongst the soft meat of his cock.
Concentrating her squeeze on just those parts, she growled, ‘We’re not open yet.’ She gave each gristly nugget a brutal pinch that had the man squealing out. ‘Understand?’
He nodded as best he could with his face squashed against the glass.
‘Good. Now the next time you come knocking I’m going to take one of your nuts for each minute you’re early. Do you understand that?’
The squealing man pressed awkwardly against the coffee shop door had attracted the attention of the implausibly buxom, young girl from the new establishment opposite. She stood right outside watching the spectacle with interest and when she had seen enough she motioned two of her brawniest staff to help the man.
‘Jamie,’ warned Lilly, seeing the approaching thugs.
‘I see them,’ said Jamie angrily. She gave the impatient man a final, near-nut-rupturing squeeze and then let his manhood go abruptly. He staggered backwards a few steps before falling into the arms of the two strapping young men from Café Français.
With his groans coming in waves through the still flapping letterbox, Jamie growled, ‘I was through with him anyway.’ As she turned away the young French girl signalled for her staff to bring the badly busted man over to her shop where she awaited him with a bag of ice.
Lilly’s eyes twinkled as she watched the sobbing man dragged away, clutching at his crushed and crumpled crotch. Gemma’s eyes, however, were narrowed and staring malevolently at the beckoning young girl. Her beautiful face was the perfect picture of concern and her delicate hands were clasped anxiously around the ice, but it was her tits, barely contained in the corset of the little French maid’s outfit she wore, that were the giveaway – they were jiggling and Gemma knew from experience what that meant – on the inside, the young mademoiselle, was giggling.
You’re mine, thought Gemma bitterly.
When the others found Judie she was in the back room; slumped in one the shop’s many spare chairs, picking distractedly at the frayed denim trim of her tiny hot pants.
‘We’re not screwed, Judie,’ said Gemma; stepping behind Judie to squeeze her shoulders comfortingly. She’d hoped to have something inspiring to follow up with, but it was Jamie came through with the goods.
‘We can still win the male customers – we just have to up our game, you know...’ Turning to stare straight at Gemma’s precariously contained rack she continued, her eyes lighting up: ‘We have to pull out the big guns.’
Judie tilted her head back to look directly up at Gemma’s overhanging jugs and when Lilly’s gaze came to rest on the enormous pair, the busty blonde became decidedly self-conscious; she crossed her arms around her bulging tits and inadvertently squeezed them out of her V-neck top completely.
Judie shrieked as an avalanche of heavy tit-meat plummeted towards her, and to save her face a pummelling she dived off the chair.
‘Oh, god!’ cried Gemma scooping her jiggling titties up in her arms. ‘Are you okay, Judie?’
‘Fine,’ said Judie, suddenly buoyant. ‘I go buy just what we need.’ She jumped up and brushed off her perfect ass.
‘What do we need?’ asked Lilly, whilst beside her Gemma, blushing with embarrassment, pushed her unwieldy melons back into her impractically-cut top one by one.
‘Bikinis,’ stated Judie, simply.
‘Bikinis?’ cried Gemma; her hastily secured left tit popping out once more to hang, astonished, outside her top.
‘Wait,’ said Lilly. ‘Bikinis plural? You mean you expect us all to wear them?’
‘Yes,’ said Judie shortly.
‘But...’ said Lilly panicked. ‘I thought we were just pulling out the big guns.’ She gestured blatantly at Gemma’s still swinging tit.
‘Oh, come now, Lil,’ said Jamie, detecting her little sister’s discomfort and finding herself unable to resist revelling in it. ‘Don’t undersell your own formidable weapons.’
Lilly paused briefly to narrow her eyes at Jamie, before persisting with her appeal.
‘But it’s the middle of winter, Judie.’
‘So?’ cried Jamie. ‘You’re wearing a summer dress, Lil!’
‘Yeah, well,’ said Lilly spinning round to confront her goading sister, ‘Mum didn’t wash my jeans and you wouldn’t lend me any.’ She tugged out the hem of her dress and added, quietly, ‘Besides, this keeps me cool.’
‘And what is cooler than bikini?’ retorted Judie. Lilly’s mouth opened to argue, but Judie was already on her way.
As she was just about to exit the shop, something caught her attention in the café opposite. ‘Bastard!’ she exclaimed, pointing to the man sat at one of their tables. ‘It’s the man who is always early. They have already stolen a customer!’
She didn’t notice the ice pack in his lap.
‘They must have, um... opened up before us,’ said Jamie, giving Judie a guilty smile.
Judie growled, glaring at the man. ‘We take care of the defectors later.’ With that she stormed out.
‘Wait,’ called Gemma after her. ‘Don’t you need to know our cup sizes. Judie? For the bikinis. Judie?’
‘This is bollocks,’ Lilly complained. ‘What we should be doing is breaking some balls.’
‘Well, Lil,’ said Jamie, crossing her arms, ‘while Judie’s gone you can take care of that part, eh?’
Under her sister’s expectant gaze, Lilly fidgeted uncomfortably before snapping, ‘Fine!’ She pushed past Jamie, tossed her apron aside and grumbled as she went.
‘Go on, little sis,’ called Jamie, smugly after her. ‘Make us proud!’
Lilly stomped across the way; a curious sight in her thigh-high stripy socks, heavy black boots and floaty, feminine summer dress. She pulled out her hair tie and shook out her dirty blonde hair before forcing a skip and a smile as she entered Café Français.
Her keen young eyes scanned the shop for a ball-busting opportunity. Much to her disappointment, she found all four of the male staff situated behind the safety of the wall-to-wall counter. Unsure of her next move, she turned back to look at Jamie who as watching with Gemma from behind their own counter. Jamie eyed her expectantly, but Lilly just shrugged.
With an exasperated sigh, Jamie walked over to the gap in the counter which allowed access when a hinged flap was raised. She circled her foot at Lilly through the opening beneath and Lilly’s eyes lit up immediately. She looked back at the counter of Café Français and saw that it too had a gap for access and stood at it was an unsuspecting member of staff. The predatory grin Lilly gave on finding her prey was noticed by the French girl, Annabelle, who, though busy serving a customer, recognised it immediately.
Skipping up to the young man, Lilly stopped with a deliberate jolt which sent her big, doughy jugs bouncing up her chest and almost out of the black push-up bra showing slightly over her summer dress. The boy, Simon, who was not much older than her, tried his best not to ogle her too blatantly, but was helpless to stop the reflexive stiffening of his cock.
He greeted the radiant young girl; happy in the knowledge that the counter top shielded his tenting crotch from her view.
‘Hi,’ said Lilly brightly; happy in the knowledge that it didn’t shield his tenting crotch from her assault. ‘Do you have a cup?’
‘A cup?’ repeated Simon, bemused. When he thumbed at the large collection of ceramics on the back wall and said, ‘Of course we have cups,’ Lilly couldn’t help but grin.
Out of sight, she pulled back her leg and said, ‘Not that kind of cup, silly.’ She swung her leg forward with all her might. ‘This kind of cup!’
Her shin slipped between the boy’s legs easily, her cotton socks providing no real cushioning as her solid shinbone met his rubbery testicles at speed.
Being designed to escape such crushing blows, Simon’s nuts rolled quickly upward and outward as far as they could within the confines of their roomy sac, and they might have escaped too much harm if it hadn’t been for the mobile phone in one pocket and a set of keys in the other.
There came an electronic beep as his left nut was mashed against his phone keypad and metallic clatter as his right was plunged into his keys.
Flattened to breaking point against Lilly’s shin and the contents of his pockets, Simon’s balls could do nothing but protest in the most uncompromising of ways: with eyes rolling into the back of his head, Simon ejaculated and dropped to the floor unconscious.
‘Ooo,’ cooed Lilly, with grim satisfaction, ‘Definitely no cup.’
Quickly feigning distress, she cried, ‘Oh, my god! Somebody help him!’
Annabelle was stunned, she too had thought her staff invincible stood behind the counter, and she was too slow to react when another member of her staff ran over and positioned himself in Lilly’s firing line.
‘Quick, get him up!’ said Lilly, and when the boy began lifting his insensible colleague with legs pressed together, she instructed, ‘No, no, spread your legs wider.’
When, to her delight, he did, Lilly turned back to give Jamie a playful wink.
Annabelle saw the boot appear with sudden, shocking crunch between the legs of her junior barista and immediately she reached for the heavy metal scissors she kept for opening boxes.
‘Oh, no,’ she gasped, feigning distress as well, if not better, than her blonde adversary, whilst tucking the scissors out of sight and rushing over to crouch beside her ball-broken staff members. ‘What happened here?’
Lilly shrugged, disappointed she had attracted someone lacking the set of organs necessary to score her a ball-busting hat-trick, and with that she turned to leave.
Seeing the blonde’s back turned, Annabelle pounced.
Jamie bristled with pride seeing her sister turn, triumphant, but the sudden sound of tearing fabric sent an anxious chill up her spine; a chill Lilly was experiencing much more literally as Annabelle ran the cold steel scissors up the back of her dress.
There came a snap and the elasticated waist of Lilly’s summer dress turned instantly slack. A second, more dramatic, snap soon followed and Lilly’s push-up bra rocketed across the café leaving her tits bouncing naked over the front of her dress.
‘Oh god...’ said Jamie, an awful feeling rising in her stomach as Lilly’s hands rushed to conceal her pale, young jugs from the sight of the few customers seated inside Café Français. She snatched up her sister’s discarded apron and cried, ‘I refused to lend her underwear too!’
She ducked under the counter and raced towards her sister, but it was too late: with a final, shocking tear, Lilly’s summer dress was ripped clean off her.
Clutching her breasts, and with the gasps of the café’s customers ringing in her ears, Lilly looked down to see her pussy, freshly shaven that very morning, laid bared. She tried to scream, but the shame strangled the sound.
Annabelle reappeared from under the counter holding up the snipped bra and shredded dress victoriously. ‘Hi,’ she said aping Lilly’s introduction moments earlier. ‘Got any cups?’ She waved the bra at Lilly mockingly causing Lilly to burst into tears.
Annabelle’s two remaining conscious staff, bewildered by current events, but always happy to see naked female flesh, cheered and whooped, and after a stunned second, even some of the customers joined in to take Lilly’s public humiliation to the next level.
In her distraught, mortified state, Lilly just clung to her tits leaving the bald crease of her pussy to the scrutiny of the gawking strangers until Jamie arrived and wrapped her apron around her waist. Then, with Jamie tugging insistently, Lilly fled the café leaving Annabelle to watch with dismay as her male customers raced after the naked young blonde into the coffee shop across the mall. Not long behind the men went the women, throwing down their coffees and scowling at Annabelle with disgust.
Annabelle threw Lilly’s bra to the floor in a fit of rage and spying her two busted staff she turned her fury on them. ‘Get up!’ she roared.
The conscious boy, Tony, all bleached-blond spikes of hair and designer jeans, groaned, ‘I can’t, Annabelle – she kicked me in the balls so hard.’
‘Not as hard as I’ll kick you if you don’t get up!’ she growled. ‘My father put me in charge of this coffee shop and I’m not going to be made to look a fool by a little blonde slut and your aching balls!’
Tony’s reply was an unintelligently groan so with one hand Annabelle grabbed his immaculate hair and with the other she batted aside his hands and took hold of his trouser meat. Tony emitted a high-pitched yelp of distress which caused his two colleagues to wince sympathetically.
‘Are you going to get up are do I have to drag you up by the couilles?’
Tony hadn’t been taught the word couilles in French class, but with Annabelle tugging insistently at his scrotum there was little chance of misunderstanding.
Gritting his teeth, he forced himself up on shaky legs. When he opened his eyes he was met by Annabelle’s cold stare. ‘Now get back to work,’ she growled.
He nodded frantically until he felt his boss’ grip loosen from around the organs which had so suddenly become the centre of his universe.
Letting him hobble away, Annabelle turned to her able-bodied staff and, whilst prodding the unconscious boy with the toe of her shoe, ordered, ‘You two – take this salop into the back.’
Once he was deposited onto a chair Annabelle dismissed the other boys and locked the door behind them.
‘Simon,’ she whispered, walking back over to where the boy sat slumped. ‘Oh, Simon.’ When he didn’t respond she stomped solidly on his junk.
He came round with a sudden, nauseous groan and he began to fold into the foetal position until Annabelle caught his hair and forced him to look at her.
‘I need you back on the coffee machine,’ she stated.
‘I can’t, Annabelle,’ said Simon, his eyes rolling, ‘I think I need the hospital.’
Annabelle spat. She pushed him back into the chair and tugged open his flies.
‘Wait! What are you doing?’ Simon squeaked in alarm, as his boss forcibly liberated his nut-sack from his trousers. The moment she took a nut in each hand Simon froze.
She grinned up at him, amused by his sudden compliance. Then she began to test the resilience of his testicles by plunging her thumbs deep into the rubbery meat.
‘Mmmm,’ she groaned orgasmically, her cold grey eyes studying Simon as he screamed and writhed. ‘J'adore the way your little orphelines squirm so desperately between my fingers; it reminds me of popping, how do you say... bubble wrap? Yes, bubble wrap. Pop. Pop. When I get stressed I go through rolls of it. Pop. Pop. Such a shame you have only two bubbles, eh, Simon? Not much for me to relieve stress on. Are you going to make me stressed, Simon?’
‘N-no, Annabelle,’ stammered Simon, through pained gasps.
‘Bon,’ she said, with a mean smile. She relinquished his nuts and wiped her hands on her skirt with distaste. ‘I’ll give you a five minute break, but if I have to come back in here to get you, bubbles will be popped, Simon. Comprenez-vous?’
‘Yes. Thank you, Annabelle.’
She left the room and Simon slid off the chair with a sob.
When Judie returned, the coffee shop’s tables and sofas were full of men all sharing a common gaze: Gemma’s rack. In fact, the only eyes not on her tits were her own; narrowed as they were and focused into a spiteful glare at the girl in the coffee shop opposite.
‘What’s going on?’ she asked Gemma, noticing that while the men had receipts, none of them had received coffees. ‘Where’s Lilly? She should be out front serving... Gemma?’
‘Huh? What?’ murmured Gemma, only then becoming aware of Judie’s presence. ‘Oh, she’s locked herself in the toilet.’ Her eyes narrowed once more as across the way as Annabelle tottered out on high heels to serve the customers at tables out front. ‘Look at that bitch.’
‘Her – the French bitch. Look at the way she walks about with her tits stuck out.’
‘I don’t think she can help it,’ said Judie, glancing briefly at Annabelle’s protuberant norks. ‘Besides, that’s not important,’ she snapped irritably. ‘Why has Lilly locked herself in toilet?’
‘She’s upset,’ said Gemma, distractedly peering around Judie. ‘And she can help it – look at her – she couldn’t stick them out further if she tried.’
‘Is Jamie comforting Lilly?’
‘No, she’s in the kitchen preparing our retaliation.’
‘Jamie!’ yelled Judie, impatiently.
Jamie came dashing out of the kitchen and was struck in the face by a flying green bikini.
‘Put on,’ said Judie. She tossed another at Gemma. ‘You too. And Jamie, get your sister out of bathroom.’
‘She won’t come out – she’s got no clothes.’
Judie didn’t ask, she just tossed Jamie another bikini and said, ‘Now she has.’
The girls followed Jamie to the toilet where she rapped on the door.
‘Go away!’ cried Lilly.
‘Lil, Judie brought you some clothes. Open the door so I can pass them in.’
There was a paused, then slowly, the door creaked open an inch to allow Jamie to slide the bikini inside. Lilly snatched the garment from her sister’s hand and slammed the door. The girls waited outside until the door was pulled open again. This time Lilly poked her mascara-streaked face out to say, sniffling, ‘It’s a bit small.’
‘Don’t be silly,’ said Jamie. ‘I’m sure it’s fine.’
‘Okay,’ said Lilly, wiping the tears from her eyes.
When she stepped hesitantly out from behind the door, Jamie and Gemma took a sharp intake of breath.
The tiny, pink bikini compromised mainly of floss-thin string, and relied entirely on three woefully inadequate triangles of finely-meshed material to conceal the most private parts of the wearer’s anatomy.
Lilly’s big tits were supported only barely by the top; the string that should have run under the tits and held them securely instead clung desperately to the flesh just below the nipple, leaving bulging white globes of tit meat to hang below. And that was just the bikini top; much less substantial were the bikini briefs which boasted only one triangle of material, scarcely big enough to cover even the most minimalist of pubic hair styles.
It was lucky for Lilly then that she was currently sporting the most minimalist style of all. Gemma, however, was months away from her last bikini wax.
‘Oh my god!’ she balked at the expanse of bared crotch. She quickly examined her own bikini. It was the same only brilliant turquoise. ‘This is a microkini! Where did you get these?’
‘Specialist shop,’ explained Judie. ‘It’s middle of winter – nowhere else had stock.’
‘You didn’t even get my size,’ cried Gemma, holding the bikini top out in front where it was simply dwarfed by her chest. ‘I won’t fit in this.’
‘Was largest they had,’ said Judie, giving Jamie a sly wink. ‘You make do – Lilly’s three sizes too small and you hear her complain?’
‘She can’t complain – she has nothing else to wear.’
Judie crossed her arms impatiently prompting Gemma to look back at the bikini top and sigh, ‘Fine.’
Lilly stepped out of the bathroom to allow Gemma to change, but Gemma asked, ‘Do you mind helping me? I can never tie the string behind my back.’
‘Sure,’ said Lilly, but as she turned to follow Gemma back into the toilet, Judie caught her shoulder.
‘Here,’ she said, taking from her shopping bas a box of waxing strips and handing them to the young blonde.
‘I don’t need these,’ said Lilly, frowning with incomprehension.
Jamie rolled her eyes. ‘The whole shopping centre knows that, Lil.’
‘Oh,’ said Lilly, ‘for Gemma?’ When Judie nodded she bit her bottom lip and reached out to accept the box.
‘Oh,’ said Judie, before letting go, ‘ and let me know whether her...’ She gestured loosely between her head and crotch. ‘What is the saying?’
‘Collars match the cuffs?’ offered Jamie.
‘Yes,’ said Judie, unabashed.
The three girls shared a smile before Lilly slipped inside the bathroom and closed the door behind her.
Jamie turned to Judie with a quizzically raised eyebrow. ‘Gemma’s bikini... Exactly how many sizes too small?’
Judie was already unbuttoning her jeans. She paused to give Jamie a mischievous grin. ‘You see soon enough,’ she said with a wink.
There came a bloodcurdling scream from inside the bathroom which caused the two girls to look at one another and suck in air through pursed lips. By the time Lilly poked her head out of the bathroom, however, the pair were sharing a devilish giggle.
Jamie was the first to contain herself long enough to ask, ‘Well?’
‘See for yourselves,’ said Lilly, thrusting a waxing strip with a triangle of fair hair stuck to it.
‘Wow,’ said Jamie, snapping her fingers. ‘Who’d have thought it – a natural blonde.’
Judie was less willing to applaud the revelation. ‘Blue eyes, big tits and a natural blonde,’ she balked. She shook her head in disbelief adding, ‘No one is that lucky.’
‘I am,’ said Lilly; without thinking that the person she regularly coerced into bleaching her hair was stood right beside her.
Jamie sighed and said simply, ‘No, you’re not, Lil.’ But Judie’s statement had piqued her interest.
‘But how about you, Judie?’ she asked, playfully. ‘How many of those boxes do you tick?’
‘Well, she has blue eyes,’ noted Lilly, helpfully. Her failure to note Judie’s tits prompted a sharp glare from the blonde and had Lilly hastily conceding, ‘And a C-cup is quite big, I suppose.’ She chuckled nervously.
‘Well,’ pressed Jamie; not letting Judie slip off the hook, ‘do you tick the “natural blonde” box, Judie?’
Seeing she had an expectant crowd, and knowing something they didn’t, Judie gave an indifferent shrug and pushed her denim shorts down to her ankles. When, with hands on hips, she stood back up, she presented them with not the answer, but the pair of orange microkini bottoms she had changed into back in the sex shop.
‘My box remains a mystery,’ she said, smugly.
Jamie let out a slightly miffed chuckle, but couldn’t help but acknowledge Judie’s cunning.
Judie was tying Jamie’s bikini string when Lilly burst out of the toilet giggling hysterically.
‘Oh, my god, Judie!’ she cried. ‘You wouldn’t believe the struggle I had squeezing Gemma into that bikini! What size did you get her?’
‘Whoa,’ came a worried murmur. The girls turned to see Gemma take her first tentative out of the bathroom. ‘Oh, my god!’ she cried, quickly gripping the doorframe as her gargantuan rack rocked powerfully to the left causing the bikini to groan as its strings strained to keep her, however superficially, contained.
‘See?’ hissed Lilly.
Judie swore beneath her breath: it was better than she could ever have hoped for; the bikini not only left slithers of her big pink areole on display, it also hoisted her tits high off her chest giving them the exaggerated bounce and sway of a Hentai schoolgirl.
‘It’s making me sea-sick just watching them,’ Jamie mumbled, her eyes following the inexorable rocking of Gemma’s gazongas.
‘Now,’ exclaimed Judie, finally able to speak, ‘that French bitch has competition!’
When Judie stepped out from behind the counter carrying two coffees and wearing only three square inches of orange material, every man witnessing the sight drew a sharp intake of breath and tried to surreptitiously wrestle their stiffies into more comfortable positions.
Judie had purposely left the strings around her neck slack so that rather than securing her tits and restricting their bounce, the bikini simply draped itself over the vague area of her baps, allowing her perfectly circular handfuls of tit-meat to skip freely about her chest with every soft step she took as she padded barefoot across the shop floor toward two gob-smacked customers. When she leant forward to set down the coffees her firm titties lunged forward to drive their stiff nipples through the thin, mesh fabric.
The men’s eyes shot to the poking nubs and their mechanically sucking lips went into overdrive. Judie had never seen men so hungry for her tits, but as far as she was concerned they were getting all worked up about nothing: her best feature was still to come.
With a tingle of excitement, she turned away from the men and presented them with her firm, peachy buttocks; so smooth and round that all the men wanted to do was bury their faces between the fleshy cheeks.
Judie looked back to see them blatantly rubbing at their tented crotches and she allowed herself a satisfied smile before performing her finale.
‘Whoops,’ she said, dropping a napkin.
The men’s knuckles turned white as they gripped the table in expectation of what was almost certainly about to come.
Bending at the hips, Judie dropped down and picked up the napkin, unsure as to exactly how much of her smooth, pink slit the microkini left exposed, but wholly unperturbed.
Lilly walked by carrying a hastily prepared sandwich board and was stopped in her tracks by the sight. ‘Oh, my,’ she said; confronted with her boss’ spread buttocks and the glistening folds between which ran a threadlike string of material.
Her attention was wrestled away when one of the men at the table bucked uncontrollably off his seat and explosively ejaculated into his trousers.
Judie stood back up, looking back at Lilly with a satisfied smile.
‘Let’s see them get service like that over at Café Français,’ she said, before sauntering away to leave Lilly watching open-mouthed as the post-coital man’s elated expression slowly turned to a uncomfortable grimace as the warm, sticky feeling of disgust crept over him and he realised he’d be sticking to his underpants for the rest of the day.
Lilly had felt dirty after masturbating, but never so literally. Giggling, she rushed outside to set down the sandwich board on which she had scrawled: Forget it’s winter. Enter our bikini paradise and enjoy coffee with a view.
Lilly bent over and snapped the board open, shaking one of her nipples free in the process. Cursing, she looked up with embarrassment only to find the imposing rack of Annabelle looming over her. Lilly let out a terrified shriek and threw herself back against the shop window; her barely contained tit slipping totally free with the jolt. Annabelle smiled at her with intense hatred in her cool grey eyes.
‘I see you solved your clothing crisis,’ she said, her accent intensifying the venom in her voice. ‘Well...’ she looked down at young blonde’s hanging melon, ‘...almost.’
She reached out a single finger and swirled it around the exposed teat which, to Lilly’s shame, responded noticeably. Annabelle smirked victoriously.
But the French girl wasn’t smiling for long as, with a roar of, ‘Get your hands off her, bitch!’ Gemma sprung from the doorway to send her phenomenal melons swinging with such dangerous clout that Annabelle was sent reeling in genuine fear for her life. She tripped over the sandwich board and with her tiny skirt billowing she landed heavily on her bare arse.
Liberated, Lilly rushed past Gemma sobbing, leaving the two top-heavy vixens to face each other as a crowd of wide-eyed shoppers began to gather.
From her seat on the cold floor, Annabelle couldn’t help but be intimidated by Gemma’s looming milk-mountains which continued to sway spectacularly. Never had she been confronted with bangers that rivalled her own and before she knew it she had barged through the crowd and was back inside Café Français gasping for breath.
‘Are you okay?’ asked the still slightly stooped Tony, staring unintentionally at the pink semi-circles of areola which had jostled free of Annabelle’s corset during her hasty retreat.
She snapped her head up to scowl and caught him staring. For the second time that morning she clamped her hand around his orbs, but this time she began squeezing with little regard for his testicular integrity.
‘I’d be much better if you losers were doing your jobs properly and attracting some female custom,’ she growled, whilst her fist clenched tighter.
Tony’s model-good-looks twisted into an agonised grimace as he managed to squeak, ‘What else we can do apart from walk around with our dicks out?’
Annabelle froze suddenly to give him a stare so intense that Tony was sure his flippant remark had cost him his nuts. But instead Annabelle released his plums at once.
‘Oui! Perfect!’ she cried, letting Tony sink away sobbing whilst she shook her tits back inside her corset. She marched over to the till and pulled out a wad of tens. ‘I’ll be back in a few minutes,’ she announced chirpily. ‘You boys try and keep your balls until I get back because you’re going to need them. Au revior.’
‘What did you say to her?’ Simon asked, hobbling over to his downed colleague.
Tony grabbed his thigh tightly and squeaked, ‘Run!’ his eyes filled with tearful import.
‘I can’t,’ said Simon shaking his head, ‘she’ll find me and... pop my bubbles!’ He dropped to his knees and embraced Tony; the two boys sobbing hopelessly whilst their two hulking colleagues, Dan and Tom, watched on in disdain from behind the counter.
Over in the coffee shop, Gemma was reporting the tale of her confrontation with gushing excitement. Never before had she been so proud of her tits and at every mention of her puppies she couldn’t resist giving them a long, lustful squeeze.
‘She was brilliant,’ enthused Lilly; the mascara she had reapplied only minutes earlier once more smeared down her rosy cheeks.
‘That’s it!’ growled Jamie, hugging her younger sister close. ‘I’m not letting that bitch terrorise, Lil for one second longer.’ Reaching under the counter she retrieved a small bag of dark red powder.
Judie eyed the bag apprehensively. ‘I am worried to ask.’
‘It’s chilli powder,’ Jamie explained. ‘One of us sneaks into their toilet and sprinkles it over the loo paper. Next time that French slut wipes her derrière she gets a slit full of the stuff.’
Gemma and Lilly cupped their crotch and sucked in air at the eye-watering thought. Judie was silent before nodding finally. ‘Okay,’ she said. ‘With her occupied we can deal with the males.’
‘Oh,’ said Lilly, thrusting her hand into the air. ‘I get dibs on one of the big ones.’
‘Don’t be daft,’ said Jamie, rolling her eyes. ‘You couldn’t handle either of the big ones.’
‘Oh, yeah? Lilly retorted childishly. She took hold of her big tits and pushed them up toward Jamie’s face. ‘I handle these just fine, don’t I? And remind me, Jamie, just how many sizes are they bigger than yours?’
‘Get those things away from me,’ growled Jamie, pushing her hand into the yielding flesh of her little sister’s upthrust rack. ‘I swear, Lil – I’ll rip them off.’
‘She just left!’ announced Gemma, out of the blue. The squabbling sisters stopped and looked out the shop window.
‘Perfect!’ said Judie, quickly snatching the bag from Jamie and sunk it deep between Gemma’s doughy jugs. ‘You go,’ she said.
‘Me?’ asked Gemma, whilst staring down at her cleavage to find no trace of the bag remained visible. ‘They won’t just let me inside their bathroom.’
‘They will,’ said Judie, her chest-high stare making Gemma suddenly uncomfortable, ‘if you persuade them.’
Gemma walked uncertainly toward Café Français’ entrance; her tit-centric rush of pride and confidence evaporating in the short distance between the two coffee shops as she released just how naked she was entering enemy territory. And her obnoxiously poking nipples didn’t help her calm; especially not since their jutting used up more of the limited material already struggling to cover her faint, pink areole.
When she stepped inside the coffee shop, her nipples softened slightly when she saw that the remaining staff were busy; two of them were blubbering like babies whilst the other two were furiously prising them apart.
This is my chance! she thought.
Ducking down low, she weaved her way quickly through the shop, her heavy tits swinging pendulously as she went; making sure to stay concealed behind the empty tables and chairs. When she reached the toilet door, she pushed it open and slipped silently inside.
Pressing her back up against the cold wood of the door she let out a long sigh of relief which had her nipples softening all the way back to their usual Jelly Tot appearance.
Spying the toilet roll, Gemma slipped her fingers in-between her mammoth rack and delved for the bag of chilli powder. When her probing digits found nothing she desperately clawed her jugs apart and stared into her empty cleavage.
‘No!’ she gasped. Running to the mirror she grasped the undersides of her big tits and shook them in the vain hope that the bag would materialise from beneath her generous underboob. ‘Oh, god, oh, god, oh, god!’ she murmured, when it didn’t.
Flapping her hands with panic, she walked back to the toilet door to pull it open a fraction to peer out into the shop. Her big blue eyes scanned the floor for sign of the baggy until she spotted it not far away, beneath a table. Dropping to the ground, she pressed herself flat against the floor, squashing her jugs out wide beneath her, before beginning to crawl stealthily towards it.
So focused on the bag was she, that she failed to notice the small area of tit spared from the cold floor by the bikini top get suddenly chilly. Crawling on, her bare, rapidly stiffening nipples squeaking against the tiles, she was soon within reach of the bag. As her delicate fingers wrapped around it, a heavy pair of boots stomped down in front of her face.
Letting out an almost silent shriek, Gemma scrabbled quickly beneath the table and pulled her knees into her yielding chest as Dan passed by dragging the insensible Tony after him; only no man could be so insensible as to miss the busty, half-naked beauty crouching beside him.
His jaw dropped as his eyes absorbed the sight of the blonde babe, eye wide with terror, knees drawn up deep into her pillowy jugs so that the doughy bulk spilled around the sides. He opened his mouth to squeak, prompting Gemma to lash out with a jab so panicked and feeble that it would have barely elicited a reaction had her innate female instincts not guided her fist direct to his abused crotch.
The strike landed with the accuracy of a seasoned pro; his nuts warping like water-balloons around her tiny knuckles until Gemma, suddenly aware of her actions, pulled back her fist and bit it apologetically. Primed to squeal already, Tony let out a piteous yelp and passed out.
Looking down at the limp, pathetic boy at his feet, Dan sighed and continued to drag him toward the back room oblivious.
Once the coast was clear, Gemma scurried at high speed and threw herself into the bathroom, not stopping until she was at the toilet roll. She pulled out a length of roll and tore open the bag of chilli powder, sprinkling it liberally over the paper. All done, she tossed the empty bag into the loo and turned to leave, only to find the entrance blocked by a hulk of a man.
‘I found your invitation,’ said Tom, shaking her flimsy bikini top at her as he locked the door behind him.
Gemma let out a surprised shriek and pressed her forearms over her nipples, forcing her tits together into a fantastic cleavage. Tom grinned at the sight and dropped the top before advancing.
‘I’ve been watching you,’ he said. ‘I couldn’t take my eyes off those juicy, big tits.’
Feeling faint, Gemma dropped to her knees leaving Tom unable to believe his luck. Standing over her he struggled urgently with his zipper. Seeing this gave Gemma sudden inspiration.
‘Let me,’ suggested Gemma, pushing his hands away to take hold of his zipper and run it downwards until, with unexpected violence, out sprung an enormous, veiny, monster cock to slap her right in the forehead with its wet purple tip.
Fighting the urge to scream, Gemma looked up at Tom, a spot of pre-cum glistening on her brow. ‘He’s certainly keen,’ she said weakly. Tom nodded, grinning dumbly.
Staring with thinly veiled horror at the throbbing member, Gemma unzipped his flies fully; praying she could tease his nuts out without alarming him. She needn’t have worried; Tom’s spunk-laden balls rolled out of their own accord, and dropped onto the back of her hand, warm and heavy. Gemma was both disgusted and relieved.
Still gripping the zipper, she looked up at Tom with an apologetic grimace. ‘Sorr-ee’ she said, earnestly, before wrenching the zipper violently upward.
Grabbing up her bikini, Gemma didn’t pause to tie it; she raced from the toilet with a tit in each hand.
Having deposited the unconscious, but mewling Tony in the back room, Dan stepped back out into the shop to catch sight of Gemma’s peachy, thong-clad ass disappear out the front door. He noticed the toilet door swinging to, but before he could investigate another top-heavy form appeared in the doorway.
‘Did I just see that big-titted bitch from the next coffee shop come out of here?’ demanded Annabelle furiously.
‘Which one?’ asked Dan, purposely obtuse. ‘They all have pretty big—’
‘Want to be clever?’ snapped Annabelle. She tossed him a tiny red posing pouch. ‘Put that on.’
She turned to Simon who was still on the ground, snivelling. ‘You. Get up!’ she cried, causing Simon to jump to his feet obediently. She tossed him a slightly smaller pouch.
‘Now, where are the other two?’ she asked.
‘I think Tom’s in the toilet,’ murmured Dan, staring with consternation at the miniscule posing pouch.
Annabelle stormed over to the bathroom and barged in with little regard for Tom’s privacy. She found him balled up emitting a high-pitched wail. She rolled her eyes.
Dan and Simon came in behind her and the pair recognised his debilitated state immediately.
‘What did she do to him?’ asked Simon, his scrotum shrivelling instinctively.
‘Get him up,’ Annabelle barked, and, sharing an apprehensive glance, Tom and Simon complied; hooking Dan under the arms and lifting him onto the toilet seat behind.
With the unfortunate young man’s legs splayed and his hands pulled away from his crotch, the grisly sight caught in the zipper’s cruel teeth was revealed.
Catching sight of the distinctly male misfortune, the boys released him abruptly and slammed backwards into the wall, clutching themselves as intense pangs of sympathy caused their own nuts to throb. Even Annabelle found herself mid-wince before her natural instincts kicked in and she let out of mean giggle.
Overawed by the exquisite nature of his torment, Annabelle felt her pussy begin to tingle uncontrollably, but she hadn’t time to enjoy the moment, as Dan’s hands were inching back down to caress his trapped meat.
Annabelle reacted quickly; reaching down to take hold of the zipper which had been yanked high, leaving ensnared in its tracks two obscenely bulging lumps of tender flesh. Securing a good, firm hold, Annabelle looked deep into Dan’s tearfully pleading eyes and inhaled a shaky, orgasmic breath that caused her tits to rise like cooked dough out of her corset. Then, without the slightest trace of compassion, she wrenched the zipper downward causing Simon and Tom to reel as their own testicles ached and churned empathically within their shrivelled sacks.
As the pair doubled over and slid to their knees Annabelle felt a very different sensation take hold of her crotch. She bit her plump bottom lip and, brimming with sexual energy, tore Dan’s trouser clean out from under him.
‘I got you a present,’ she told Dan, her heavily accented words coming in breathy gasps. She grabbed his collar and forced a posing pouch into his open, silently screaming mouth. ‘There you go. Now you have no zipper to worry about.’ With that she pulled his shirt up over his head and flung it to form a pile with his trousers.
Turning with flushed cheeks and poking nipples, she dusted off her hands and beamed at Simon and Tom who were both looking up at her fearfully. ‘Now, do I have to help you two undress or are you going to be good little boys and do it yourself?’
Café Français was heaving.
A swarm of women in expensive skirt suits had descended on the coffee shop; the news of shop’s new minimalist uniform having spread like wild-fire through the local law firms and estate agencies. The impatient throng shoved and clawed, desperate to reach the sandwich counter behind which the shop’s male staff were lined up like produce for the women’s perusal. Even Tom had managed to stand, if somewhat hunched, after a little not-so-gentle persuasion from Annabelle.
‘Hmm,’ said a short-skirted lawyer, a well-manicured finger placed on her lips to conceal her grin as she peered through the chest-high glass cabinet at the barely contained bulges on display. ‘I like the look of that one.’ She pointed obviously at Tom’s brimming pouch.
‘Really?’ asked her young secretary, struggling to keep a straight face whilst she inspected Tom’s huge, but misshapen bulge. ‘Looks a bit funny to me. I’ve got my eye on the one with the two boiled eggs in,’ she added, gesturing towards Simon’s pouch which did little to disguise his swollen testes.
Annabelle caught the woman’s remark as she walked by and couldn’t resist whispering, ‘They have swelled up nicely,’ adding devilishly, ‘no need to thank me.’ She walked off chuckling, herself only technically dressed, for, having thrown caution and modesty to the wind, Annabelle had plumped for the smallest microkini money could buy. Made to contain the non-existent bumps of an A-cup, Annabelle’s gargantuan rack was pushing its strings to the very limit of their elasticity. The triangles which were supposed to conceal her coaster-sized areole were so minute as to be irrelevant and served simply to allow her big nipples something to peek out from under mischievously as her weighty jugs swung and strained to break their bonds with every step.
Whilst Simon wanted to curl up and die from embarrassment, and Dan just wanted to curl up and die, Tom and Tony were revelling in the female attention.
Tony’s model good looks and toned physique meant he was never short of reasons to brag, but with his balls swelling up like plums, he found a whole new avenue of flirting had been opened up for him. He held the aching bulge out proudly as the young secretary’s eyes fell upon it and lingered there quite lustfully.
‘Go on,’ said her boss, with an encouraging wink, and dutifully she complied.
‘Do you think I could get you to point out something tasty?’ she asked him, unbuttoning her shirt seductively. She had only got as far as the second button before Tony was pointing through his underwear. The women behind her hooted and whistled and egged her on, but she stopped at the third button before she exposed anything more than an ample cleavage. Tony on the other hand couldn’t halt his response. Prevented from soaring upward by the crushingly restrictive posing pouch, his dick instead swelled out perpendicular to his body until, fully erect, it was jutting into the chilled cabinet and pointing directly at an almond cake.
‘Go on then,’ said the young woman, barely able to focus on cake as Tony’s hard-on had stretched his pouch away from his groin leaving a yawning gap through which the hilt of his thick shaft could be seen. ‘I’ll take a piece,’ she stuck her tongue out of the side of her mouth and added impishly, ‘but only if it contains nuts.’
‘Oh, it contains nuts,’ said Tony with a predatory grin. He leaned forward over the cabinet, until his bell-end was skimming the surface of the cake, to whisper confidently, ‘It contains nice, big—’
Beside him, oblivious to his colleague’s dangerously protruding junk, Tom shoved the cabinet’s sliding door aside to reach in and fetch a sandwich.
‘—nuts!’ yelped Tony in a sudden intake of air, as the glass door slid into his tightly pouched gonads and pinned them, along with his dick, against the next door. Crushed to the threshold of what they could take, his pinched balls’ survival instincts kicked in and the pair squirmed free mere moments from rupture.
Narrowly spared castration, Tony was instead subjected to the most terrible humiliation of them all when, hunched and squealing over the cabinet, his tender, pink boy parts burst out either leg hole of his pouch in the presence of twenty-odd members of the opposite sex; all pitiless, and all amused greatly by the unexpected appearance of his hilarious eggs.
Chuckling hysterically and pointing shamelessly at the throbbing orbs, the young secretary leaned into the glass and shrieked, ‘You weren’t joking about the nuts! They’re huge!’
Hearing this, and turning to see Tony’s butt-clenched, tip-toed dancing on the spot, Annabelle sighed, ‘Merde, what now?’
She set down her coffee pot and walked over to discover how one of her staff had done injury to his testicles this time. As she neared Tom was tugging powerfully at a sliding door which appeared to be jammed.
‘Careful!’ she snapped. ‘This cabinet cost more than you earn in a year!’
‘But it’s stuck,’ he yelled in a panic, ‘and Tony’s got his cock trapped.’
Annabelle’s eyes bulged out of her head when she peered through the glass and saw Tony’s erect cock looming over an expensive cake. ‘Move!’ she growled, pushing Tom aside whilst the other boys looked on in horror. She tugged vainly on the stuck glass door whilst, red-faced and tearful, Tony pleaded for her to free his junk.
‘If you get your dick in that cake I’ll cut off it and your useless balls,’ was her less than sympathetic response.
When she couldn’t budge the door she stepped behind Tony and, with a disgusted groan, snatched up the thongs from between his tensed and twitching bum-cheeks.
‘What are you doing?’ Tony squealed anxiously, as Annabelle steadied herself. Feeling the pouch contract as she took up the slack he pleaded, ‘No. Wait, Annabelle!’
The petite beauty pulled with all her might.
A collective gasp went up as Tony’s cock was forced to literally bend over backward as the posing pouch was wrenched back through the gap in the doors.
With Tony’s stiff shaft straining back against the flimsy pouch it was only a matter of time before, with a shocking tear, the material split and Tony’s fat, purple cock-head burst out like a scene from Alien to spring violently downwards and punch the almond cake out of existence.
Customers recoiled as the nuts and frosting spattered across the cabinet’s interior, but it was Tony who jumped the highest when the two spit halves of his posing pouch slipped down his shaft to envelop his unsuspecting bollocks and press them, inescapably, into the glass.
Seeing her almond cake plastered across the inside of the sandwich counter, Annabelle scanned the shop for a knife to make good on her promise, but noticing Tony’s plums squashed up against the glass just above where she had planted her foot for leverage, she had a better idea. Redoubling her hold on the waistband of Tony’s thongs she growled, ‘That cake cost me thirty pounds, Tony, but it’s about to cost you much, much more.’
As Annabelle began to pull back on Tony’s pouch, her tits were squeezed into a mountainous cleavage that threatened to overpower the already stressed microkini top, but with her teeth gritted and her eyes locked on the glass against which Tony’s hairy nuggets were spreading ever wider, Annabelle didn’t care in the slightest. Even when, with every muscle in her body straining, her gelatinous jugs began to quiver uncontrollably, she remained intent only on the destruction of Tony’s baby-makers.
With his legs kicking and his sweat-covered chest pressed up against the slick glass of the cabinet, Tony could only squeal hysterically as the faces of twenty exhilarated women squealed mockingly back at him, each with their hands on their own crotches, but none with the slightest concept of the excruciating agony his was in.
Gripped by an overpowering orgasm and sensing the end was nigh, the young secretary threw caution to the wind; panting loudly, she tore open her shirt and pulled up her bra to bare her big, flushed tits before pressing them wantonly against the cold glass. And just in time, as with a loud pop, Tony’s impressive, posing-pouch-wrapped eggs, simply vanished.
His balls were gone, but their contents hadn’t just disappeared into thin air. Twitching like a firemen’s hose, Tony’s veiny, engorged cock bucked violently and sprayed a powerful torrent of steaming hot jizz across the glass, using the secretary’s nipples as bull’s-eyes.
Clutching an unrecognisable shred of material, Annabelle went reeling uncontrollably backward; her arms and legs windmilling wildly. When she slammed into the coffee machine a powerful ripple surged through her gigantic tits and threw them out of either side of her microkini entirely.
Tossing the ruined pouch to the floor, and paying no attention to her bared baps, Annabelle stormed toward Dan, who was surprised when he felt his exceptionally large gonads grabbed out of the blue.
‘You caused this mess, you clean it up,’ Annabelle snarled, as behind her Tony’s limp-dicked, limp body slid down the angled glass and collapsed to the floor. She tightened her crushing grip on his nuggets and added, ‘Or you’ll be the next stain I need cleaning.’ With that she released him and stormed into the bathroom.
The moment she was out of sight, her fingers had pushed aside the negligible strip of material that ran between her legs and plunged deeply into her hot, dripping cunt hole. ‘Zut alors,’ she groaned orgasmically, as she dropped down onto the toilet and her knuckles began rapping rhythmically against the plastic seat.
While Annabelle’s orgasm was building, the young secretary’s was subsiding, and, as the realisation of what had just happened sunk in, she was shocked to find herself still rubbing her bare tits against the glass upon which a young man had just ejaculated his last. Embarrassed, she looked back at the crowd of appalled women and slowly pulled her bra back over her flushed breasts.
‘I, uh, don’t know what came over me,’ she said, apologetically. Then, wincing, added, ‘Sorry – poor choice of words.’
Fearing their respectability may be tarnished if it got out they had encouraged a castration on their lunch break, the women filed out of the shop in stony silence. The secretary was the last out. Across the way, Gemma watched as she left; buttoning up her shirt and looking thoroughly guilty, despite the fact her nipples were poking obscenely.
‘What just happened in there?’ Gemma asked no one in particular. ‘One minute they were chanting and cheering, and the next they can’t get out quick enough.’ Beside her Jamie was passing Lilly a sandwich to take out.
‘I dunno,’ said Lilly, uninterestedly, ‘but I hope that French slut hurries up and takes a piss.’ She narrowed her eyes at her sister and added, ‘That chilli powder of yours better work, Jamie.’
‘Trust me,’ said Jamie, with a confident grin, ‘it’ll melt the bitch’s flaps off.’
Back inside Café Français’ bathroom, Annabelle had both hands working her soft pussy and stiff clit as she re-played moment of Tony’s destruction in her head.
She pictured the sight of Tony’s pathetic organs being crushed ever flatter; his buttocks twitching madly as waves of sickening agony washed over him. She wanted so much to get a taste of what it felt like; to experience the same exquisitely private pain as he had, but she knew she never could recreate it on her own parts.
Frustrated she tweaked her clit to cause at least a fraction of the hurt, but the squeal she gave was anything but pained. She tweaked it again, harder, causing her legs to twitch involuntary. Then, forcing a fourth finger inside herself, she stretched her tight, young hole and brought to mind the wonderful sounds made as Tony’s nerve-filled globes spread across the glass; turning white under the terrible pressure; emitting sickening crunches as they gave bit-by-bit.
Annabelle opened her shaking legs wide and pushed them up the walls. She wanted so badly to squeeze her gigantic tits; to crush them until they ached like his orbs, but her hands were busy. With her fingers struggling to create any friction on her juice-slicked slit, she recalled the exact instant at which those orbs had ceased to be.
It had happened so quickly, yet she had perceived every delicious detail. His balls hadn’t burst against the glass as it had appeared: at the last moment, crushed to breaking point, they had been almost flat enough to slip side-by-side through the impossibly narrow gap in-between the doors. Almost flat enough.
The memory of Tony’s scrotum turning from full to abruptly empty with a terrific pop caused Annabelle to orgasm violently. A powerful shudder slammed her back into the toilet tank and her body began to spasm uncontrollably for several long seconds, until, breathless and dripping in sweat and cum, she went limp; her legs sliding down the walls, squeaking as they went.
‘What are you looking at?’ asked Judie, as she joined Gemma, Jamie and Lilly who were stood in the doorway of their coffee shop staring into the opposite shop. ‘There are customers waiting.’
‘Fuck ’em,’ said Jamie. ‘We think she might have gone to the toilet.’
‘This could be it!’ squeaked Lilly, excitedly.
After catching her breath, Annabelle reached out with wrinkled, pungent fingers and took hold of the hanging sheet of toilet paper. Tugging it hard, she tore off only a corner of a sheet. She groaned unhappily. On her second attempt she unrolled several sheets and wrapped them around her damp hand before successfully tearing them off.
Still buzzing from her orgasm, she dabbed gently at her glistening tits before pressing it hard against her swollen slit to absorb its overflowing juices.
When she had dabbed away the majority of the moisture, she dropped the soggy loo roll between her legs into the toilet and turned her attention to the pathetically shrivelled microkini top in the centre of her chest.
Taking a firm grip of her slippery left tit with one hand and her top with the other, she lifted the squishy jug and pulled the tiny cup over it. She let go of the heavy melon and, miraculously, the garment held it in place, though just barely.
She stared down at the big circle of salmon pink areole that was left uncovered and sighed.
Was her father’s respect worth more than her self-respect? Was degrading herself just to gain a few more customers really worth it?
No. She’d call him immediately and tell him she couldn’t handle the responsibility. The bitches in the shop opposite would win, but at least she’d have her self-esteem.
She grabbed her right tit and began to wrestle it back inside her top as she had the left, but as she did she became acutely aware of a growing heat in her minge.
Maybe she had been a little too rough with it, she reflected. But by the time her right tit was safely stowed away, it was clear something other than her self-abuse was causing the burning sensation, which had spread like wild-fire across her entire cunt, and was now even causing her nipples to tingle unpleasantly.
Clutching herself she stifled a cry and hobbled over to the sink with her thighs pressed firmly together. Running the cold tap, she stood on tip-toes before the bowl and dowsed her privates desperately, but the water did nothing to abate the pain which became too much to bear.
Bursting out of the bathroom dripping and half naked, Annabelle was dismayed to find the shop had very quickly filled with fresh customers.
Spotting a gob-struck customer holding a jug of milk she waddled at speed toward him and snatched it from his hand before planting her bum on the counter top beside the till.
‘Oh, my god!’ gasped Lilly in disbelief as, in front of an entire shop of startled customers, Annabelle rolled backwards, pointed her legs and cunt into the air and proceeded to empty the entire jug over her obscenely inflamed lips. The cooling liquid glugged and gurgled as it swilled down her hole, dousing the fire which raged within.
Exhaling a huge sigh of contentment, Annabelle let her legs flop back down; her fleshy ass hitting the counter top and causing a jet of milk to squirt from her cunt and soak a seated customer some feet away.
Letting her head loll back, Annabelle noticed Simon stood behind her holding a smaller jug of milk, and with nipples still burning, and beyond caring, Annabelle popped off her microkini top and panted simply, ‘Pour.’
Both aroused and terrified by the sight of his fiery-tempered boss’ imposing melons, Simon held out the jug with a shaking arm and did as he was told, all the time fearing the worst.
The cold milk covered Annabelle’s upside-down-hanging jugs and splashed over her face, snapping her suddenly upright. Simon mistook this for a threatening motion and immediately blew his load into his Speedos and fainted or the second time that day.
But Annabelle’s attention wasn’t on him, or the shocked faces of her customers. Nor was it on the faces of the girls in the shop opposite as they stood in their doorway pointing and cackling. For some reason, the sole focus of all Annabelle’s rage was Gemma’s heaving, jiggling, mocking jugs.
‘You,’ she growled, glaring at Tom with dark, smouldering eyes. ‘Ready to get revenge for what that bitch did to your balls?’
Stiffening his lips, Tom nodded.
‘Well, I think I’ve earned a break,’ said Jamie, tossing her apron casually aside as she walked over to the rack to get her coat.
It was a simple enough presumption, but one which caused Judie to bark, ‘You go when I say you go!’ and catch everyone, even Judie herself, by surprise.
The mirth generated from seeing Annabelle humiliated evaporated instantly.
Outwardly, the two girls had been getting along just fine, but inwardly, mostly even subconsciously, a bitter rivalry had formed as the pair of alpha females battled for dominance. And while it may have been Jamie’s bare-faced cheek that had cause Judie to finally snap, had been the brunette’s faultless bare cheeks that had caused the resentment in the first place.
Rendered flat-chested and invisible thanks to Gemma and Lilly’s breath-taking melons, Judie had come to appreciate that her power lay elsewhere. She knew the moment she stepped out from behind the counter and started bending over with drinks that she would suddenly become the centre of attention. Her perfectly peachy ass was an asset that none of her staff could compete with. But then Jamie arrived on the scene and pulled on a thong bikini.
Jamie stood for a long while with her back to her boss and her faultless cheeks twitching with barely contained indignation; Jamie did not like being told off.
Gemma bit her lip and looked to Lilly, who was wide-eyed with worry, having witnessed the scene many times before after Jamie had been reprimanded by their big sister Jill. She knew it could only end one of two ways: her sister would storm out and pop the first pair of testicles she came across, or she would turn around to face her antagonist and things would get nasty.
Jamie turned to face Judie.
‘Oh, fuck,’ gasped Lilly.
In a straight contest of beauty, Judie could beat most of women by knockout, but against Jamie it came down to points.
Whilst Judie had a fresh, distinctly eastern European appearance: high cheekbones, lightly freckled towards her cute, upturned nose; blonde, shimmering locks; and long eyelashes which fluttered around sparkling blue eyes, Jamie countered with sultry, smouldering looks: thick, sculpted eyebrows; lustrous mahogany hair; and plump, suggestively-pouting pink lips.
But as the girls charged toward one another in a rush of bouncing breasts and lashing fingernails, their beautiful features contorted into ferocious snarls and their shiny hair licked up like flames.
Jamie thrust out her hands to grab Judie’s jugs, knowing that a sharp twist of the blonde’s smaller, stiffer nipples could win her the fight. But seeing the brunette’s cruel fingers closing in on her bouncing bumps, Judie threw out her arms and managed to bat away. This left both girls hurtling tit-first towards one another.
Jamie’s ample rack acted as airbag; ballooning out sideways as Judie’s firm titties drove their big, stiff nipples deep into her sensitive tit-meat. With their noses pressed together, their eyes staring directly into each other’s, Jamie gritted her teeth and tried to hide her pain, but when Judie’s arms wrapped around her to plunge long fingernails into her fleshy buttocks, she couldn’t help but let out a shrill scream.
Jamie was spun around expertly and grabbed by the strings of her bikini top and bottoms, and by yanking back hard to cause her bikini to slice into her cunt lips and tits, Judie was then able to steer the brunette into the kitchen and towards the back door.
Seeing the door looming Jamie panicked and began to thrash and claw, buts he was quickly subdued by an especially hard upward tug on her thong.
As Jamie let out a shriek and clutched her pussy, Judie opened the door and hissed with relish, ‘You’re fired.’ Adding fiendishly, ‘And I will have your uniform back too!’
With a loud snap Jamie’s microkini came away in Judie’s hands and she fell through the doorway completely naked.
Lilly made to rush after her, but Judie stopped her in her tracks with a pointed finger.
‘You want to lose job too?’
Lilly looked down at her sister, her ass cheeks scratched and goose-pimpled as she pulled herself to her knees and looked back whilst clutching her bare tits.
‘Make up mind,’ said Judie, hooking a finger under her bikini top.
Lilly shook her head sadly.
Judie slammed the door shut and, with tears in her eyes, Lilly fled the kitchen. When Judie turned to follow her, she found Gemma staring at her in open-mouthed outrage.
‘Put baps in oven,’ snapped Judie, ill-temperedly.
Taking this as an affront, Gemma gasped and clutched her tits protectively. Judie gripped her forehead and pointed to the uncooked bread rolls by the oven. ‘We are running low,’ she explained, despairingly, before leaving the kitchen after Lilly.
It took a long time for Gemma to regain enough of her senses to rush to the back door and try the handle, but when she did she found the door locked and the key missing. Stumbling back from the door, her mind was awash with thoughts of Jamie scurrying thought the streets, her naked body exposed to the elements and the devouring stares of all who saw her.
With her legs suddenly too weak to support her, Gemma leant over the worktop and began to feel quite sick.
Looking up, she found herself staring at the uncooked bread rolls Judie had ordered her to cook. She wanted so much to snatch one up and watch the dough spill out from between her fingers as she crushed it, but Gemma had never been one to dissent so, to give her fretting brain a distraction, she did as she was told.
Stepping in front of the oven, she pulled down the heavy door and, straddling it, ducked forward retrieve an empty baking tray from inside. She was met with a choking cloud of burnt flour.
Caught in a fit of coughs, Gemma didn’t notice the hulking figure enter the kitchen and silently lock the door to the shop behind him.
Leaning in such an awkward stoop, with both hands busy propping herself up on the oven, Gemma’s heavy melons hung pendulous and unsuspecting as Tom crept up behind her and slipped his foot underneath the oven door.
‘That’s a bad cough,’ he observed, planting his hand in-between her should blades and pushing her down lower, ‘but you’ve got bigger chest problems to worry about,’ he added, before delivering a powerful kick to the oven door.
Having naively regarded her boobs as personal airbags; full of nothing but the soft, yielding substance known only as “breast tissue,” Gemma was surprised to find herself gripped by unimaginable pain as the door swung up and, with loud, milky slosh, slammed shut on the fullest extent of her jugs.
She bolted upright, but with Tom’s foot pressed firmly against the oven door, she succeeded only in wrenching violently on her own melons. Reaching down around her tits, her hands found his ankle and began pulling at it with desperation, but Tom simply leaned over her, applying more weight to the crushing door, and twisted both arms behind her back.
Even the obvious option was unavailable to her as his swelling package was nestled safely between her spread ass cheeks: to close to deliver a punishing back-kick.
As the hopelessness of the situation overcame her, the full extent of the pain seeped through the crushed nerves of her tits and forced Gemma to emit a strangled cry.
‘There it is,’ said Tom, relishing the sound. ‘Funny how long it takes the pain to register when a bit of you gets cut in two... not that you really understand what I’m talking about. Your fat tits are like fucking marshmallows – they’ll just spring right back...’ His growl gave way to a lump-throated whisper as he added, ‘...my balls don’t do that.’
Suddenly angry once more, Tom secured both her delicate wrists with one strong hand and said, ‘But I do know another way to spilt you in two.’ He used his free hand to tug down his posing pouch.
Gemma couldn’t see between her crushed jugs, but she recognised with the dread the fleshy smack of a freely swinging, and not to mention sizeable, set of cock and balls: Tom’s prick was a good six inches soft and already as thick as broom handle, and, as his rough fingers slid up her supple ass cheeks and hooked under her bikini thong, it only grew longer and thicker.
‘Please,’ murmured Gemma, as she felt the string tauten and sink between her tender flaps. She tried desperately to twist out of his grip, but in a flash the flimsy garment was torn clean off her, and though the string granted only the sensation of cover, it was the absence of this which left Gemma feeling suddenly and terrifyingly exposed.
Behind her, Tom swooned, having been presented with seemingly unobstructed access to her cunt. ‘Oh, yeah,’ he groaned lustfully. ‘And freshly waxed too? You must have been waiting for this.’
With his free hand he grabbed her hair and yanked her head back to further stretch at her caught melons. Gemma let out a scream as more of her skin slipped out through the miniscule gap to leave two ever more constricted lumps of tender tit-meat trapped inside; the hard, nerve-filled milk ducts pressing heavily enough against her delicate nipples to cause them to squirt.
Tom revelled in her pain. Running his hand down the smooth length of his rod, he worked its engorged purple helmet over her dry, quivering snatch, probing the soft folds until he found the entrance to her tightly clenched hole.
‘Come on,’ he said, trying to coax it open with his fat, oozing helmet. ‘Let me in or I’ll just have to find...’ he traced his cock over her perineum to her puckered starfish, ‘...another hole.’
As soon as Gemma felt his tip on her virginal ass hole, she gasped with horror and dropped her defences.
Tom chuckled, noticing her pussy relax suddenly. ‘You know what? I’m happy with this one now.’ He leaned in close and mimicked the sing-song apology she had given him before zipping up his nut-sack, ‘Sorr-ee.’
But before Gemma could let out a sob, the door handle to the shop was tested.
‘Judie!’ she screamed despairingly, causing the handle to twitch with increased urgency.
Tom, however, was unhurried as he casually angled his stiff rod toward her ass hole and pushed the tip of its soft head inside just far enough to regain Gemma’s attention.
‘Oh, I guess she’ll be looking for these,’ said Tom, tossing a set of keys onto the oven top. He chuckled. ‘You’re friends aren’t going to save your ass now, slut.’
‘Want a bet?’ yelled Lilly, who hauled herself halfway through the service hatch to fling the boiling contents of a coffee cup straight at his low-hangers.
‘No!’ he cried, as the scalding liquid arced through the air and struck the back of his sac, causing him to thrust instinctively away from the source of his anguish.
Gemma screamed murder as his thick shaft impaled her ass up to the hilt.
Lilly’s innocent young eyes widened at the sound of his groin repeatedly slapping against Gemma’s supple buttocks as he tried desperately to buck away from the pain of his poaching plums.
‘Gemma,’ said Lilly in a shocked whisper, ‘I didn’t mean—’ But before she could finish her apology, Gemma’s violation came to an end; Tom pulled out to dance frantically on the spot whilst his slack and steaming ball-bag flapped about his thighs.
‘My balls!’ he shrieked.
At that moment, the kitchen door all but burst off its hinges. Tom dodged the flying splinters only to be faced with a much greater danger: a fuming, furious blonde.
With his heavy nuts bouncing and jostling, Tom snatched the keys off the oven top and danced a hasty retreat. He reached the back door and, after a moment of hysterically panicked fumbling, managed to get the key in the lock.
‘Oh, thank god!’ he squeaked, when, with a twist of his wrist, the lock clicked free.
He swung the door wide open only to come face-to-face with a female even more incensed and even less clothed than the last.
‘Oh, god,’ Tom blubbered; the last trace of his bravado crumbling instantly. ‘Please, not my ball—’
Without a moment’s deliberation, Jamie jerked her knee and drove it powerfully into Tom’s dangling nuts. Her bony kneecap struck the undersides of his misshapen balls and launched the pair straight into his crotch. For the next few milliseconds her knee continued to climb, scooping up the several inches of empty, sagging scrotum as it went, until, finally, it met his testicles a second, devastating, time.
With his bollocks distorting noisily beneath him, Tom was lifted into the air by the impact. It was a textbook, ball-ending blow, and one which only failed to split the recipient’s nuts due to their recent hard-boiling.
Like on old television set powering down, Tom’s vision shrunk instantly to a pinpoint. He was unconscious before his lifeless and practically naked body hit the floor.
Gemma was the next to fall. Weakened by her anal ordeal, she was unable to stay standing, but in dropping to her knees she literally hanged herself by the tits.
Seeing her friend’s predicament, Lilly, who had shaken herself topless during her heroic lunge, hurriedly wriggled and jiggled the rest of the way through the service hatch, unaware that her bikini thong had become snagged on the latch as she slid off the edge.
It came as an intensely unpleasant surprise to Lilly to find herself suspended, feet only inches from the floor, in a cunt-cleaving wedgie. Her eyes barely had time to water before, with an anguished yelp, she was spun upside-down and the garrotting garment was wrenched from between her urgently flexed thighs.
As she was unceremoniously deposited on the floor, the thong slipped between her legs to wrap around her ankles and leave her suspended upside-down, exposed, and powerless to help Gemma.
Amazingly, despite the crises happening on either side, Jamie was oblivious; fury had narrowed her vision until all she could see was Judie.
Stepping over Tom’s twitching body, and passing Gemma and Lilly as if there weren’t there, Jamie marched towards the startled blonde who tried her best to wriggle her way out of her own tight spot.
‘Jamie, I was... hasty. You still have job.’
This only made Jamie bristle further. ‘My job?’ she spat, grabbing the strings of Judie’s bikini top to pull her in close. ‘You can take your job and shove it up your stinking c...’ She trailed off; her eyes lighting up as a devious thought entered her mind.
‘Actually,’ she said, suddenly bright, ‘I do want my job.’
Her words should have given Judie cause to relax, but there was something in the way she delivered them that spooked the wary blonde.
Jamie continued, with dangerous grin spreading across her face, ‘So I’ll be needing a uniform.’
‘I am sure we can fix your—’
‘No,’ Jamie interrupted; pre-empting her offer. ‘It’s ruined.’
She twanged Judie’s bikini strings ominously and the blonde’s eyes widened with realisation and dread. ‘You want... mine?’ she spluttered. Jamie nodded, relishing her discomfort.
‘But...’ began Judie, as Jamie’s hands slowly slid up the strings to the knot behind her neck. She felt a sharp tug and the strings fell away, taking with them the tiny triangles of material which shielded her nipples from the brunette’s tormenting stare.
Jamie let out a delighted chuckle when she set eyes on the soft nubs; blatantly wilted by fear as her own teats thrust at them tumescent through cold and fury.
Holding the bikini top against her ample chest, Jamie said, mockingly, ‘Oh, too small. Shame.’ She tore the top in half just to spite the blonde and tossed it aside. ‘Those, on the hand, look a perfect fit.’
Judie saw she was gesturing towards her bikini bottoms and opened her mouth to protest, but caught herself. Grudgingly she complied; taking hold of the knot on the side of her thong.
‘Hold on,’ said Jamie, stopping her before she could give it the final, all-exposing tug. ‘Let me just see if can recall the definition of perfection you gave me earlier. Now, the first thing was blue eyes – which you have – congrats, but the next thing was big tits...’ She tilted her head to one side and gave Judie a look of commiseration. ‘I don’t care what anyone else says, Judie, a C-cup is just not big.’
Judie’s blood began to boil.
‘And what was the last one... Let me think,’ continued Jamie, theatrically wracking her brains. ‘Oh! Natural blonde of course. Well, Judie...?’ She reached out and stroked a lock of her blonde hair. ‘...do your collars match your cuffs?’
Judie gave an abrupt growl of frustration and yanked the knot undone. The miniscule scrap of fabric, which in reality only afforded the placebo effect of coverage, fell away to unveil a shockingly dark strip of bush. Jamie’s eye lit up.
‘Wow,’ she said; barely able to keep a straight face. ‘Well, at least you’ve got the blue eyes.’ She burst into laughter causing Judie’s lip to stiffen.
‘Happy now?’ she growled, through gritted teeth; fighting the urge to cover her humiliatingly mismatching muff.
‘Oh,’ Jamie sniggered, ‘very.’
She pushed past the brunette aggressively; cutting her gloating short.
‘Hey!’ Jamie cried in outrage as she was spun around by the shoulder barge. ‘Where do you think you’re...?’
‘Gemma?’ she murmured; spotting, for the first time, her viciously ensnared friend.
Judie struggled to open the oven door from which the busty blonde hung lifeless.
‘What happened?’ asked Jamie.
‘Help your sister,’ snapped Judie, but Jamie couldn’t take her eyes off the eye-watering sight of Gemma’s stretching melons; cleaved in half by the oven door. In an unconscious move she gripped her own soft pair. It took another terse prompt from Judie before Jamie noticed her little sister.
Red-faced from embarrassment, and the fact that most of her blood had collected in her head, Lilly looked up at her big sister shamefaced.
‘Lilly!’ Jamie cried; her gaze compelled towards the hairless crease of her sister’s upturned pussy: a sight which Jamie had never had the opportunity to examine in such detail.
While her big sister’s less-than-subtle gaze made her uncomfortable, with both hands grappling her abundant, hanging tits there really was little Lilly could do to obscure it. She did make one attempt to reach her flaps, but was quickly forced to reconsider when a tit slipped free of her overfilled hand and punched her solidly under the chin.
‘Jamie,’ she implored, pitifully.
‘Oh,’ said Jamie, flustered at being caught so obviously staring down her young sister’s fuck-hole, and suddenly acutely aware that Lilly was getting just as good a view of her own cold-puckered slit. She squeezed her thigh together and said, ‘Let me help you down.’
Deftly, she pulled the knot on the thong which had Lilly ensnared, and watched her sister be deposited onto the floor in an undignified, naked heap.
Jamie unhooked the stretched bikini thong from the splinter and offered it her sister apologetically.
‘It’s okay,’ said Lilly, picking herself up. ‘It’s ruined and you’ve seen it all already.’
Jamie was mid-blush when the oven door clicked open. She turned to see Gemma’s pinched jugs slip free. They slapped heavily against her chest, but rather than hug them as the Jamie expected, her hands instead slipped down between her legs touch a pain that was just out of reach.
Jamie didn’t recognise her discomfort, but when Lilly rushed over and gushed, ‘I didn’t mean to make him nail you in the arse, Gem!’ all became clear.
‘He what?’ Judie roared, whilst Jamie could only wince. ‘His balls are going to be just another sticky spot on the carpet,’ growled the livid blonde.
‘You two,’ she said, snapping her fingers at Lilly and Jamie, ‘take him into the back room.’
Lilly dutifully rushed to take up Tom’s right ankle, and Jamie, not pleased at being ordered around, took out her frustration on his balls: grabbing him by them rather than his ankle in order to haul him away.
Even whilst unconscious, the pain caused Tom to emit a high-pitched squeak at every impatient tug the peeved brunette gave his sack.
Here's what you're missing out on:
The girls help Gemma get sweet revenge on Tom using a particularly unstable chair. Jamie teaches her little sister Lilly a valuable, but impolite lesson on how to rouse unconscious men. Judie takes on Dan and Simon single-handed and terrifies Simon into busting his own balls. Jamie finishes Dan’s balls with a rolling pin, whilst Judie faces Annabelle in a final showdown full of the dirtiest cat-fighting imaginable.
The next morning...
‘I didn’t think they’d pack up shop this quickly,’ said Gemma, watching two men carrying the coffee machine out of the front door of Café Français whilst three others gathered excitedly around Lilly as she handed out complimentary coffees in her mismatched ensemble of a baggy hoodie and hot pants. When she had gleaned all the information she could from the men, the young blonde waved goodbye and left them staring lustfully after her departing ass.
‘What did they say?’ asked Gemma, the moment she skipped back into the shop.
‘They said I could be a glamour model,’ she said proudly, whilst striking a classy catwalk-style pose.
‘That’s not what a glamour model is,’ said Jamie dispassionately.
'What did they say about Annabelle?’ demanded Gemma urgently.
‘They said that the owners decided to go back to France,’ said Lilly, shrugging. ‘They found this country unwelcoming.’
‘I cannot imagine why,’ said Judie, dryly.
Lilly gave a wicked chuckle; expecting to be joined by Gemma, but instead the busty blonde gasped.
‘It’s him!’ she said.
Through the door which Lilly had inadvertently left open hobbled the man whose testicles Jamie had punished the previous day for repeatedly disregarding the shop’s opening time.
The time was three minutes to eight.
‘Well, at least he is a couple minutes later than usual,’ noted Judie as he hobbled through the shop.
‘I’m amazed he’s walking at all,’ said Lilly, having witnessed his brutal busting at the hands of her sister.
Jamie, who had been wiping the counter, casually tossed her cloth into the sink and awaited him by the hatch with a look of contempt.
‘You assaulted me yesterday,’ he growled as he marched on the brunette, pained, but furiously determined. 'I want to speak your superior.'
With a stony expression on her beautiful face, Jamie struck the bottom of the counter to send it flipping over. 'I have no superior!' she roared, as she surged through the gap to unleash a pulverising kick at his tender plums.
Gemma bit her bottom lip and winced as the man was lifted off the ground by the force of the blow. 'Jamie...' she pleaded for mercy, through gritted teeth.
'What time is it?' asked the brunette, not take her eyes off the man who lay writhing energetically at her feet.
Gemma wasn't quick-witted enough to recognise the reason for her seemingly bipolar enquiry and answered, 'Two minutes to eight,' before suddenly sucking in air as she realised her mistake. 'I mean—'
'Two minutes early,' Jamie growled at the man who stared up at her with terror. 'You know what that means.'
'Please,' he squeaked, 'I only wanted to see the manager.'
'Here I am,' said Judie walking around the front of the counter to drop her skirt. She slipped a finger between her bared pussy lips and began to strum shamelessly. 'Take a good look.'
'She's shown you hers,' said Jamie, bending to free his swollen swingers from his trousers, 'time to show her yours.'
Lilly clapped her hands excitedly at the sight of his bloated bollocks, but Gemma could only groan as she realised any objections would fall on deaf ears. 'I'll go fetch the mop,' she said bitterly as Jamie placed the ball of her foot on the man's plump testicles and began to grind them into a fine paste against the floor.