Chapter 9. Final Fantasy’s Nightly Lottery

“Should we go over and wait for Sue at ‘The Wall’ door, like we did with Sharon?” Bonita asked, her voice cracking with emotion. She was proud of the courageous way in which their blonde friend had gone through her debreasting, but the Latino was still very concerned about the pain and remorse Sue might be experiencing.

“No,” Wanda replied softly, “we met Sharon at the door to give her hugs…because we felt sorry for her loss…and wanted her to know of our sorrow. Sue may have had her chest flattened…but in doing so she succeeded in accomplishing what she came here to do. I think we should let Sue know how proud we are of her…and show her that we are confident she can handle the consequences of her actions without our worrying about her.”

“Yes, Wanda is right, Bonita,” Janet said nodding, “we should wait here at our table for Sue to return, and then give her high-fives all around. It will deliver the right message…that we are jealous of her success…and can’t wait to join her in her booblessness!”

“Yes…of course…you are both right!” Bonita agreed softly. The Latino then continuing excitedly, “Look, ‘The Wall’ door is opening! Gee, I hope Sue remembers to put on her shorts! Wouldn’t it just blow if…Oh! She already has them on…I should have known not to worry.”

The heroines waited as they watched Sue, sporting the usual circular white bandages on her chest, approached their table carrying her bikini top in her left hand. When Sue reached the table, they all high-fived her right hand as Janet had suggested, with Wanda shouting, “You did it…we’re on the board!” Janet proclaimed, “You go girl…you did it first!” Finally, Bonita exclaimed, “YES! You succeeded, and did yourself proud in the matter you went about it.” Finally, they all sat and waited for Sue to start telling them about her experience in the booth.

Sue took a big bite from her still untouched second tomato and cucumber sandwich, chewed, and then washed it down with a long drink from her Lactic Blaster, before finally speaking. She chortled, “Okay, this is just plain weird, but I’m having a difficult time trying to decide what to do with this,” Sue held up her bikini top. “Do I put it on over the bandages, simply carry it around with me until we get home, or should I have left it on the floor of the Game room?”

Wanda, who could see that Sue wasn’t joking about her dilemma, laughed, before suggesting, “You could put your top over there in the trash bin,” Wanda nodded and then winked to a container a few tables away, “where I noticed someone left a pair of shorts. You definitely shouldn’t cover up those badges of honor.”

Sue looked horrified; obviously the clothing must have been newly purchased. Janet decided to point out the obvious, as she whispered, “Look, Sue, no girl from this time would be worrying about form fitting tops after what you’ve made happen. It could tip off the locals that we aren’t just from the country visiting our city friend, here.” Janet nodded to Wanda before pointing out, “Speaking of Wanda, you might also want to keep in mind that, while she might have had the biggest bustline at this table pre-Riddler, post-Riddler her bustline swelled visibly. You’re probably going to have an excuse to do lots of shopping when we get back home…just like any other girl who got their balloons popped here tonight.”

“YES! Shopping!” Bonita quipped, “Now that’s worth the experience all by itself. However, speaking of the experience…what was it like? We’re you not frightened? Was it very painful? What were you and that man from the reserved table talking about? Do the bandages take away the pain, as they appear to, or do you still hurt? Is it hard to keep your balance after that drastic weight change up front? What…?” Bonita looked around the table to see her friends chuckling loudly, and then realized they were laughing at her barrage of questions. “Sorry, Sue, but you know me…always curious,” she apologized, before insisting, “but give it up…we want to hear every detail.”

“OHHhh! All right, Bonita!” Sue giggled, “It’s not like I expected you to wait until I finished my sandwich, before I started spouting all of the gory details. But you’re going get the story between bites, so this may take some time. Okay, first…yes I was frightened…sometimes terrified…but I was able find moments when the fear was gone as I listened to Ted and his stories of Club X. Then I was terrified again when Ted reached for my button; the fear then remained with me until the lasers’ first bites into my flesh. Then the experience became about pain, and how best to cope with it!”

“From here at our table, it appeared that you dealt with the pain and fear quite well, Sue,” Wanda said softly, obvious pride at her friend’s performance in her voice. “The pain must have been extreme…how did you ever keep from screaming? I must also say that you dealt with the orgasmatron beams quite well…a few obvious forced climaxes…but mostly you were able to keep your composure and fight off the effects of the pleasure beam.”

“Well, Wanda, when the lasers first started searing into my breasts, there was a long minute when I believed I had made a serious mistake, for the pain was excruciating,” Sue admitted softly, obviously shaken as she relived the unpleasant moment, “but as I concentrated first on the Club X games being described to me by Ted, and later on the pleasure being beamed into my sex, things slowly changed. As you had predicted, the pleasure and pain signals running through my nervous system became mixed, mitigating both sensations I think. So I just tried to focus on the pleasure and hold on.” Sue blushed before continuing, “However, it would be unfair for you to blame several of my…well…yes…orgasms…on the pleasure beams. Frankly, Ted’s words…the games he described…are what sent me over the edge!”

“Okay,” spat Janet, with obvious interest, “you’ve answered the first two of Bonita’s rapid-fire questions, and ‘Ted’ has turned up in each answer. Who is he, and what is this about Club X and the games played there that distracted your attention from, first, your fear as you realized your balloons might soon be popped, and, second, the pain that accompanied your double-cut debreasting?”

As Sue finished chewing another bite of sandwich, in preparation of answering Janet’s question, Sally arrived at their table. “Hi girls,” Sally said pleasantly, “our nightly lottery will soon be held, so I need to place one of these on every breasted customer.” Sally held up what was obviously a nipple clip with two disks on it, each disk having the same number, a number unique to each clip, and then pressed open the clip’s jaws and attached it to Bonita’s right nipple over her bikini cloth.

“Owe!” Bonita exclaimed before asking frantically, “This thing hurts! What is it for? Do I have to leave it clamped onto my nipple?”

As Sally placed another nipple clip with another pair of differently numbered disks on Wanda’s right nipple, she politely answered Bonita’s questions, “Sorry, Miss Bonita, the pain from the pinch will quickly dull. Most girls quickly forget their wearing the clip. However, yes, you need to leave it where it is until the lottery drawing is over. When I’m finished with your table, you remove one of the disks and place it in the open slot of one of those two containers atop the bar. The green bin means you have agreed to enter the lottery; the red container is for the disks of those who are declining entering the lottery.” Sally nodded to the bar, upon which two cubic bins rested.

Wanda, as she finished tugging on her own new nipple jewelry, asked quickly, “Why don’t you explain what the lottery is for? Sorry, Sally, my friends are from the country and I want to make sure they understand the ramifications of entering the lottery.”

Sally, as she placed a clip on Janet’s right nipple, pleasantly replied, “Well, Miss Wanda, we draw a nightly lottery for volunteers to be spitted and barbecued. Because Aimee, who should be nearly done roasting and about ready to be carved, has already been sent to the coals, we are only drawing one number tonight instead of two. If you are willing to chance riding a Jessica, put one of your disks in the green container, and if your number comes up, well, Mr. Jennings will appreciate your meat’s contribution to his profit margin. If you are willing to risk the lottery and your number isn’t drawn, this night’s drinks are on the house. If you don’t want to participate, and that is up to your own discretion, put your disk in the red container; the disks there are used to verify your intent not to participate in the event of any confusion. Please keep control of your own disk at all times until you’ve put it into one of the sealed containers; we’ve had girls claim their tablemates pilfered their disks and entered them in the lottery without their consent. Final Fantasy is not responsible for such situations, and the number drawn from the green container will be accepted as a consensual conversion regardless of such claims.”

As Janet tweaked her own right nipple, trying to get used to the clips bite, Sally turned to Sue and explained in the sweetest of tones, “Sorry, Miss Sue, only breasted women may participate in the lottery. Mr. Jennings’ rule, which is why Tammy is in the kitchen waiting to be live butchered, rather than out over the coals after a ride on Jessica. However, I do want to tell you how much I admire the way you handled your debreasting. One day, when I’ve finally found myself on potential menu item duty when the booths are all empty, I hope I can exhibit such composure after my debreast button has been pushed.”

“That’s all right, Sally,” Sue said with a twinkle in her blue eyes, “I wouldn’t have chosen to enter the lottery anyhow. Those Jessica machines scare the hell out of me. However, thank you for the compliment. I’m quite sure you also will do yourself proud if the day comes that you are ordered into one of the booths as a potential volunteer in the game.”

“I hope so, Sue,” Sally replied with a smile before frowning, “of course, I need to get through this lottery first or I’ll never have to play the game. As the waitress on potential menu item duty, I’m automatically entered into the lottery! Well, nice talking to you ladies, but I need to move on. There are still a lot of right nipples in my area of the room waiting for nipple clips!”

As Sally moved on to the next table, Janet shook her head and quipped wryly, “They actually expect girls here to volunteer for a chance at death by impalement and roasting? Jeese! Well, my disk is going in the red bin. I’m not going to get killed before I have my boobs knocked off!” This brought a loud laugh from all four heroines. “Okay Sue, let’s get back to your recalling of your bust getting busted. You were just about to tell us about Ted, and the things he was telling you to keep your mind off your tits…before they got poached and deposited in the kitchen,” Janet prodded with a gleam in her eyes.

Sue quickly took another bite of her sandwich and chewed, and then a gulp of Lactic Blaster to wash the food down. Then she grinned at her friends, who all looked very impatient. “I’m sorry,” Sue chortled, “you girls weren’t waiting on me, were you? Let’s see…Ted…a most interesting man…who I believe could read my every emotion as if they were written on the wall. He was polite to me the entire time we talked. He even offered to turn my breasts over to that thin girl who was just about to feel me up when he cut in. A handsome man he is…but his most charming attribute was his ability to tell stories of what goes on at Club X…and just the right story at just the right time.”

“Ted is the fair-haired man at the reserved table, right?” Bonita asked as she stared at the table near the dance floor, paying no attention at all to the two sets of breasts protruding from the wall at the back of the dance floor. “Which of the papered women is his wife?”

“The blonde,” Sue whispered. “He said he has a thing about blondes, and he kept telling me how fantastic my breasts are…I mean were!”

“Okay…okay…enough of your bragging about being the first to get your balloons popped,” chortled Wanda. “Get back to these stories of Club X that you evidently found so fascinating.”

“Okay,” Sue said with a loud laugh before whispering, “how would you like to take part in a game of darts, where your breasts are protruding through holes in the dart board and used as the targets? How would it be to play this game of ‘Darts’ knowing that the girl that gets the most hits scored on her mammaries will have them thrust atop a butcher’s cutting board and slowly lopped off by whichever man had the best throws of the night?”

“Ouchies!” Bonita spat, and then cupped her breasts, one in each hand, “but at least if we played such a game, I would have the advantage over the three of you…I mean when Sue still had or has boobies. My targets are smaller, and should get fewer hits!”

“Yes,” Wanda agreed, with a gleam in her eyes, “and maybe my knockers are large enough to be intimidating and therefore cause some misses. I think, of the four of us, Janet will get the most hits, most of the time, in a game like that!”

“Don’t be mean, Wanda,” Janet replied with a broad smile on her face, “besides, if you look around the room, you’ll notice that they seem to grow big balloons as a rule in this century. My money would be on you or Sue to end up with your boobs pillowed on the cutting board. Hypothetically, of course! A great game, Sue, did he tell you of others?”

Sue nodded, glanced over to look at Ted talking to first to Mr. Roberts and then the two wives, and replied softly, “How about ‘Truth or Dare’, where, if you take the dare and fail, the consequences are most interesting. The dare Ted used as an example was candle flames on nipples without making a sound. You are a pain slut, Janet. How long would you claim to be able to withstand your nipples being roasted in a candle flame?”

Janet laughed, “Okay…I earned that title. Knowing we have our special medical equipment back home, I could probably pick a big number. However, for the sake of this example, I’ll say 30 seconds…long enough to cause some serious pain.”

Sue nodded and grinned, “After making that bold claim, one of the men would most certainly make you prove the truth of it. You would be then strapped into restraining frame and the candles placed so that the flames were centered on your tender nipples. If you then uttered a sound, a candle flame would be placed between your legs, the flame centered on your clitoris, where it would remain for the duration of your 30 second claim!”

Wanda moaned loudly, and then chortled, “Oh God! What a thought! That story was what made you climax the first time wasn’t it, Sue? The one you let loose before the orgasmatron was activated.”

“Yes, Wanda,” Sue admitted with a smile, “I told you not to blame all of my forced orgasms on the pleasure beam. The thought of a hot flame on my sexual center just drove me over the edge.” Sue then nodded towards the reserve table, which she had been watching for the last few minutes, and whispered, “Look, the wives are pulling down the tops of their evening gowns so that they can get their nipples clipped. I guess their husbands didn’t vouch safe them from the routine here.” In the background, the orgasmatron induced sighs of the two booth contestants could be heard as they entered their final minute in the game.

Soon Sally had arrived at the reserved table, placed a nipple clip at the tip of the right breast of each papered woman, and then walked to ‘The Wall’ door where she waited until the two contestants exited, wearing their bottoms, to receive their own nipple clips. “Look,” Bonita whispered excitedly. “The two wives have removed one of their numbered disks from their nipple clips…oh my God…their giving them to Mr. Roberts!” The heroines then watched as Mr. Roberts walked over, past a long line of women waiting to deposit disks in the red bin, and deposited the papered women’s disks in the green container—the wives had been entered into the lottery!

“Well, it looks like Sharon had the Club Xer’s routine pretty much pegged,” Janet wryly observed, “except the part about waiting until after the lottery to poach breasts from the debreasting portals. Yes, I was listening to what Sharon told you. Maybe Ted just found Sue’s set irresistible.”

“Ted said they were fantastic, not irresistible,” Sue corrected, blushing beet red. “Don’t you think you three better get in line so you can deposit your disks in the red bin. That line isn’t going to get shorter anytime soon. When you get back, I’ll tell you about the other games Ted described.” In truth, Sue had decided she could use a short break from being the center of attention at the heroines’ table.

Wanda nodded, and quickly agreed, “Sue’s right! Let’s go, girls.”

Bonita remained sitting, seemingly in deep thought, as Wanda and Janet started towards the line and then stopped to wait for her. “You two go ahead, Janet and Wanda,” Bonita said softly when she realized her friends were impatiently looking at her. “I’m going to hit the ladies room before I get in line. Too many Lactic Blasters I guess. Don’t tell anymore stories until I get back, please, Sue.”

Bonita watched her friends reach the back of the red-bin line before making her way to the unisex bathroom in the west corner of the north wall. A while later, Bonita rejoined her friends, only a minute after her teammates had rejoined Sue. “Okay, my disk is deposited,” Bonita said softly, before continuing in a more exciting tone, “so, what about those other games Ted told you about, Sue?”

“Okay,” Sue quipped, “you gals are without patience…you just have to hear about more sadistically sexy games. Well, by now my kill button had been pushed, so Ted told me about games they sometimes play at Club X that don’t necessarily require breasts. The first one he called ‘Spin the Bottle’, where three dice are rolled, the summed number providing a duration in minutes. Then, one of eight girls, standing on tippy toes at the end of a plank with a tight thick noose around her neck, gets randomly chosen. The plank drops out from under her, and she hangs by her neck, for the duration determined by the dice, dancing on air.”

Wanda laughed, and then proclaimed, “Now there is a fantasy that men and women alike can agree on thanks to Jane Fonda and Cat Ballou! Janet, do you remember the time Arcade had captured the Avengers and he had you and me take turns dangling from the end of a rope…?”

Janet almost choked on the drink of Lactic Blaster she was in the process of swallowing. The plucky heroine chuckled before replying gleefully, “Yes, in Arcade’s ‘Hangman’ game, we had to take turns air dancing while the other performed fellatio on men from the audience. The duration one of us danced was, naturally, determined by the other’s skill at using her mouth…for something other than speaking.”

“Not to mention, her ability to remember to swallow!” Wanda chimed in. “I almost bought the farm with your first bloke, when you spit out his sperm, earning me an additional one-minute penalty period dangling from that rope.”

“Come now, Wanda,” Janet chided, “we both know you were still plenty strong at the end of that dance. Besides, if you must know the truth of it, I spit on purpose. A girl can’t look wholesome enough with a stranger’s penis in her mouth during a live worldwide television broadcast. My spitting was good for our image. In the end, we beat old Arcade at that game of his.”

“Yes!” Wanda proclaimed. “I’ve finally got you to admit what I suspected all along! Your right, though, it was good for our image, and we did end up outlasting Arcade in his game. Not until we were successfully performing fellatio on three guys in a row while the other air danced through it, though. It’s a good thing we are heroines, and get regular practice with strange men’s members in our mouths; that is the first advantage most villains take of us once we’ve been captured! Yes, Arcade was forced to give up and move us into his next game…and why was that girls?”

All four heroines whispered gleefully in unison, “Because we are heroines, and that makes us pain sluts and sex whores!” This brought laughter from all four heroines.

“Don’t let these two interrupt your recounting of your game, Sue,” Bonita said with mock anger at Wanda and Janet. “Listening to them, you would think they’ve been in every possible perilous situation! Did Ted tell you about any other games?”

“Yes, Bonita, just one more,” Sue said softly. “Ted called it ‘Heads or Tails’. Two women are strapped into a guillotine with orgasm detecting vibrators turned on in their vaginas. The first girl who allows herself to climax, gets beheaded. That was my least favorite of the Club X games, but seeing as how the orgasmaton beam was working on my sex, and my breasts were locked into position and waiting for the chop, it still made me climax.”

“Good Lord!” spat Janet. “These Club Xers must have found Arcade’s playbook. That was the next game he put Wanda and I in after ‘Hangman’! It even had the same name, though he used rape machines rather than vibrators. Fortunately, Iron Man showed up and smashed the guillotine blades from their cross bars with his repulsor beams just before Wanda climaxed. Otherwise she would never have had her misadventure with Kang earlier in this century that gave her the idea for our girls’ night out.”

“What do you mean…before I climaxed?” Wanda chortled. “I could tell from the moans you were making that you were on the edge of a forced orgasm yourself, Janet!”

“It doesn’t matter which of you would have climaxed first, Wanda,” Bonita spat. “What matters is that, because of Iron Man, you both kept your heads and are here now. What about the bandage, Sue?”

“I don’t feel any pain at all, Bonita,” answered Sue with a genuine smile. “I’m not numb, and I can tell I’m missing parts that should be there but aren’t. No pain, though. Before you ask, yes I can tell my center of gravity has changed, but it is no more difficult to deal with than switching from flat shoes to high heels. Oh, look! There is Mr. Jennings, and Sally is walking out to meet him. The lottery must be about to begin.”

“Okay ladies, it is time for our nightly lottery,” Bill Jennings called out loudly so the entire room could hear. “I know we have new faces tonight, so I’m going to go over the rules before we begin. Each if you breasted women has been given disks. One of those disks should still be hanging from your nipple clip, where everyone can read the number, and the other should be in either the red bin or the green bin. Those of you with your disk in the red bin are not part of this lottery, along with the breastless women and gentlemen.”

“Sally, could you bring over the green bin, please, and the drawing barrel.” Sally quickly raced over to pick up the green box, and a tall metal frame with a rotatable mixing can atop it, and returned them to Mr. Jennings location before ‘The Wall’ door. Bill Jennings shook the green bin, and then looked up with a smile, “Well folks, it looks like we got quite a few entries for tonight’s lottery. Okay, first things first…note that the green bin has the label ‘green’ on it…so no changing your mind and claiming you were color blind.”

“Back to the rules then,” the owner of Final Fantasy continued, “nine disks are going to be randomly withdrawn from the green bin and placed in the drawing barrel, joining the first disk in the drawing barrel, Sally’s, as she is on potential menu item duty for Final Fantasy. Your disk please, Sally.”

“Yes, Mr. Jennings,” Sally replied, “here it is, number 3.” Sally quickly removed one of her disks from the nipple clip she had placed on her own right nipple earlier and handed it to her boss. Mr. Jennings then opened the hatch to the drawing barrel and placed Sally’s disk inside it.

“Thank you, my dear, and don’t be nervous,” Bill Jennings urged. “I know it is your fist time in our lottery. Just remember, there is only one chance in ten that your disk will be pulled. We are only pulling one number tonight, instead of the usual two, as I already have one volunteer roaster on a spit. As you already are nude, go ahead and take your position five feet away from the wall, just on the other side of the Jessica machine.”

“Yes, Mr. Jennings,” Sally replied, and took the assigned position. She was as nervous as she looked, but this was part of her job.

“Now,” Bill Jennings continued calmly, “I’m going to draw the other nine numbers from the green bin, one at a time. If your number is called, remove your clothing and leave them at your table with your friends, and then come down and join Sally to form a line parallel to the wall. I want everyone who put their disk in the green bin to look down at the number on your nipple clip so that you’ll be sure to know it if it is called. That will keep things moving along at a nice pace.” Mr. Jennings decided it would be appropriate to pause for a minute.

Back at the heroines’ table, three sets of eyes widened as they watched Bonita lift up her disk to read her number. “Bonita!” shrilled Wanda, “you didn’t! You’re just faking us out…right?”

“Actually, Wanda…Janet…Sue…,” Bonita stammered, “I did! I decided I couldn’t bring myself to go into one of the debreasting booths, and as we have no credits…well this seemed the best way out for me. Sorry! I didn’t dare tell you my plan!”

“Bonita, you sweet but silly girl,” Sue said softly in a quivering voice, “you are risking your life. Janet’s husband’s medical equipment won’t be able to help you if you get spitted, cooked, butchered, and finally eaten!”

“I know that, Sue,” Bonita retorted. “Look, my disk might not even get pulled from the green bin. Even if it is there is only one chance in ten my disk will be chosen from the drawing barrel. Your worries…for me…and anger…at my choice…might be for nothing.”

“There is another reason for your doing this, isn’t there, Bonita?” Janet said, asking the question all four heroines knew the answer to. “You are fascinated with the idea of riding on Jessica’s back, aren’t you? Even though you know the machine will kill you!”

“Yes…Janet,” Bonita admitted with embarrassment, “so if by chance…I get chosen…don’t feel sorry…or be angry…with me. Please…support my choice. It was mine…to make.”

“We have no choice but to support you and your choice now,” Wanda said softly, concern in her voice. “Let me see,” the big breasted heroine reached over to get a better look at Bonita’s disk, “146…that’s the number we don’t want to hear called!”

“Okay,” Bill Jennings yelled loudly to get the buzzing room’s attention, “let’s get started at drawing the nine numbers.” He reached into the green bin, pulled the first disk and read, “43!”

“Oh my God!” screamed a short blonde with mid-length hair from the middle of the room. “That’s me! I can’t believe I got picked!” She quickly shed her denim shorts and half vest before racing down to join Sally in the lineup as Mr. Jennings placed her disk in the drawing barrel.

“Okay, the next number is 133” the nightclub owner announced, after reaching into the green bin and reading the number on the disk he had withdrawn.

“That’s me!” someone yelled from the back of the room near the entrance way to Final Fantasy. A minute later, a tall black girl with huge breasts joined the nude lineup as her disk also went into the barrel.

Bill Jennings quickly pulled out another disk, looked at it, and announced, “This lucky number is 76.”

Mr. Roberts’ redheaded wife at the reserved table gasped loudly in fear and surprise, bringing a look of disappointment to her husband’s face. Realizing that she was embarrassing her husband, the women quickly announced, “Right here,” and struggled to get out of her evening gown and underclothes as quickly as possible. Soon she was the forth girl in the lineup as a forth disk entered the barrel.

Quickly pulling another disk from the bin and checking the number, Mr. Jennings called out, “14!”

“Bingo!” a girl cried out from the central west wall area, bringing a laugh from the audience. Soon a short, thin oriental girl sans clothing joined the lineup.

“Well, not much meat on this one!” Bill Jennings quipped as he deposited the disk in the big can. “If 14 gets pulled, we may have to take pick two disks for volunteers for a ride on a Jessica like we normally do!” The audience laughed, but the girls in the lineup looked horrified. “Sorry! Just kidding, girls, and number 14, you should know that many chefs believe a lean sow makes for better meat. No offense was intended. Now, back to the lottery,” the nightclub owner reached into the green bin, drew another disk, looked at its number, and announced, “99, where’s the lucky lady?”

“Right here, Mr. Jennings, Sir,” a gorgeous redhead seated at the table next to the heroines’ called out, “I’ll be right there, Sir!” The girl then doffed her gym shorts and athletic bra and took the sixth position in the lineup as her disk was secured.

“Oh my, what a polite little girl,” Bill Jennings chuckled. “Maybe her drawing disk will take the hint and be polite enough to hide at the bottom of the barrel after being turned a few times,” the owner earned another round of laughter from the audience. He then reached into the green barrel, drew another disk, and announced, “The girl who be getting position seven in our lineup is wearing number 146. Come on down!”

“That’s me!” Bonita yelled loudly. “I won a spot in the next round of the lottery. Wow! This is the first raffle I ever won something at!” The Latino heroine was so genuinely excited, that she didn’t notice the surprise and horror on her friends faces as she quickly removed her nipple clip, stripped off her red-trimmed yellow bikini, placed the clothing on her chair, replaced her nipple clip on her now bare nipple, and raced to her position as the seventh girl in the lottery.

“Yes, young Lady,” the Master of Ceremonies, chortled, “it is obvious to everyone that you are either telling the truth and never expected to get your disk picked, or that you had not intended on placing your chip in the green bin when you got here.” Mr. Jennings winked as he nodded at Bonita’s dark curly landing strip, before carefully staring at each other girl’s cleanly shaven fillet, one at a time. Except for one table, the crowd roared. “In the old days, right about now I would be calling back to the kitchen for them the get a blow torch ready. However, you’re in luck…Bonita isn’t it…we do have a straight razor, some shaving cream, and some waitresses that know how to put a sharp edge to good use with nary a nick.” Noticing, Bonita’s reddened face, the nightclub owner quickly quipped, “Just teasing, young lady, everyone knows that you girls from the country don’t always keep up with our city slicker trends.” Bill Jennings quickly dropped Bonita’s disk into the drawing barrel, reached into the green bin, and read another number, “Lucky 11! Who has the lucky number?”

“I do! I do,” a girl called out from the middle of the room. Soon the chubby girl who had considered taking Janet’s set was standing in position 8 and her disk safely canned.

Mr. Jennings paused for a moment, obviously considering a weight related joke, but thought the better of it and drew another disk. He announced, “The next to the last candidate for a ride on Jessica, is wearing 66. Where are you 66?”

“Oh, SHIT! That’s me!” Ted’s wife, Doris, cried at the reserved table. As she removed her evening gown and underwear as quickly as possible, the heroines heard the blonde softly point out, “It looks like there is a twenty percent chance that you two might be going home one wife short.” Both men could be seen whispering to Doris, obviously telling her not to worry.

Mr. Jennings waited for the blonde to take her position before securing her token and pulling the final disk from the green bin. He looked at it and then called out, “Number 83. Who gets the final position in this delightful and mouthwatering lineup?”

“Yo! That’d be me,” a very fit black girl replied as she stripped off her loose halfshirt and shorts. She quickly joined the lineup in the final position, as Bill Jennings placed her disk in the drawing barrel.

“Okay, listen up, folks,” Bill Jennings called out over the now chattering room, “before I draw one of the ten disks for a second and final time, this time from the drawing barrel, I want to make some things clear and go over some rules. I know some you saw a girl ride a Jessica earlier tonight…and I just want you all to know the lottery winner’s ride will be held with much more decorum. There won’t be any taunting of the sow as she is turned into meat. The Jessica’s spit propeller will be set at its standard speed; the speed designed to cause the least pain and least damage to the sow being impaled. The Jessica will be equipped with an orgasmatron beam which will be activated the instant the spit touches flesh; like the debreasting booths, we want to reward the risk taker. We will be using the auto-gutter and disposal chute, and, after that’s taken care of, we will be filling the abdominal cavity with stuffing, because it will cause the meat to taste better, and allows the live roasting to be over in a shorter period. Finally, the automatic throat cutter will be attached to the front of the Jessica, available for the selected sow to activate if she so chooses after she has been spitted and filled with stuffing.” There were scattered boo’s around the room, but the owner quickly quieted them with a loud yell, “Hey! I like a nice long horizontal pole dance as much as any of you. However, this is a voluntary lottery, and if you want to keep these girls volunteering, you need to give them the option of squirming in the flames, smelling how good their flesh smells, or checking out shortly after being pronounced meat. You girls keep in mind that, if Final Fantasy doesn’t get risk takers volunteering for our barbecue lottery, we start randomly picking un-papered girls and forcing them to serve YOUR needs and secure my profit margin!” The room quickly hushed.

“Okay let’s find out who the winner is!” Bill Jennings called out as he slowly used a handle at one end of the drawing barrel to rotate it and mix the disks. Wanda, Janet, and Sue, watched the barrel turn with their eyes riveted on it, holding their breaths the entire time. Then the owner of the Final Fantasy stopped the mixing, opened the lid in the can, and without looking, drew a disk. Staring straight at the heroines’ table, he slowly moved the hand holding the disk in front of his face, the disk between his thumb and forefinger so anyone close could read the number on the other side. Bonita heard her friends gasp loudly in horror, and knew the number was hers, even before Mr. Jennings announced, “Let’s everyone give a big hand for number 146, Bonita Jaurez! Be sure to thank her for her generous donation!”

Chapter 10. Mr. Roberts Makes A Decision

Sally quickly led Bonita over to Mr. Jennings, who patted the shaking girl on her shoulder, and whispered, “Don’t worry. It isn’t going to happen right now.” Then he called out to the rest of the room, “Okay, we now take our usual thirty minute break. But first I need as usual to explain the rules to our new sow,” Mr. Jennings said calmly, and then looked into Bonita’s eyes. “You may go back to your table and talk to your friends while final preparations are made with Jessica and yourself, but you may not leave Final Fantasy or try to play the game on either side of the wall. If you do, your entire table will ride a Jessica as well as yourself. Have a drink or four…they are on the house now!” Mr. Jennings then turned back to the room and called out, “For the rest of you, you should keep in mind that there is plenty of time to play the booth game…several rounds in fact…and I have five empty booths! Where’s that gambling spirit we all love to see! Have fun!” Bill Jennings quickly went back to his office; there was one aspect of his research that he hadn’t yet fully verified.

A few seconds later, Bonita was back at her table receiving hugs from her three obviously unhappy friends. “Thanks, girls,” Bonita said softly, “the hugs are nice…but some smiles…would be even nicer.”

“Bonita,” Sue whispered, “It’s a little hard to smile when one of our friends has just been handed a death sentence. What do we do, Wanda…Janet? Fight our way out of here? Even without our powers, I would say we have a pretty good chance of escaping. We’ve all received extensive training in hand-to-hand combat. I don’t see anyone carrying weapons!”

Wanda nodded with a frown on her face, “I’m pretty sure we could extract ourselves from Final Fantasy. Heck, everyone would likely be so stunned that someone would even try to escape their fate, that there might not even be an altercation. No doubt the authorities would be notified, however, and I doubt we will make it back to our time-ship without a confrontation with the law.”

“Well, as long as the energy field that dampens our superpowers is restricted to this building, rather than the entire city, the authorities shouldn’t be much of a problem either” Janet pointed out. “Sue can just make us invisible, and if they have heat detectors, can surround us with a force shield instead. We likely wouldn’t even have to hurt anyone in the…”

“What in the world are you three thinking?” Bonita interrupted excitedly. “We are superheroines! We uphold the law…not break it…and in my mind…it shouldn’t matter whether they are 21^st Century laws or 41^st Century laws. I knew the risk when I entered the lottery here, the same as Janet and Sue knew the risks when they played the game on the booth side of ‘The Wall’. Wanda said earlier that the rest of the heroines would not interfere if one of us got trapped on a Jessica. You three should stick with that plan!”

“You mean…we should let you be murdered?” Sue asked in astonishment. She didn’t understand how Bonita could equate allowing oneself to be debreasted, and temporarily at that, to being impaled and roasted to death.

“No!” spat Janet. “Actually, she means we should let her commit suicide. Time for the brutal truth, isn’t it, Bonita? You entered the lottery because you were afraid you couldn’t resist climbing on a Jessica before we left here, anyhow. This way…well at least there is some ceremonial purpose…to your…death! Not some…stupid girl…who couldn’t resist…the psychological urges…of a high-tech…fuck machine!”

“Yes,” whispered Bonita in a quivering voice as she looked at each of her friends in turn with tear-filled brown eyes, “although I swear I didn’t realize it at the time, most of what Janet suggests is likely true. You don’t have to…be so…mean…about it…though…Janet!”

“Alright, everyone,” Wanda interjected softly, “let’s all calm down! I’m responsible for this field trip, and if Bonita goes through with this, her death will rest on my shoulders…and Bonita’s…not yours Janet…and not yours Sue! Do you really want us to stand aside, and let you go through with this just as if you were any other girl from this time and place, Bonita? Knowing that you will never see home again?”

“Yes,” Bonita hissed softly as she rubbed the tears from her eyes, “I…do! If you…really care for me…you will promise…to support…my decision…and not…interfere. More importantly…I want…you to promise…not to let this…interfere…with your own…plans. I want you to…go through…with your…debreastings! PROMISE…please!”

“Very well…I promise…not to interfere…and to take a turn in the booth…maybe during this break,” Wanda said with a pallid face sporting a weak smile.

“I also promise not to interfere…even though I’ll always wish I had,” Sue said softly still frowning.

“I too agree,” Janet said with sadness in her voice, “and yes, I’ll take another turn at trying to get my puppies knocked off. Thank you for being honest, Bonita, and I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings. Let’s have another round of hugs!”

“Thank you all!” Bonita said smiling as she accepted another hug from each of her friends. “I’m glad we got that settled, because Sally has been standing over there with the straight razor waiting for us to stop arguing!” Still standing after the hugs, Bonita quickly waved at Sally, who rushed over to the heroines’ table with a tray containing four Lactic Blasters, a small bowl with shaving cream, and a small straight razor.

“How are you doing, Miss Bonita?” Sally asked as she distributed the drinks to the sound of moans from the five booths that had been filled immediately after the lottery. “Are you very afraid?”

“I’m a little afraid,” Bonita said as she nodded. “Thanks for asking, and thanks for thinking of the drinks!”

“My pleasure!” Sally said sweetly. “Now, shall we get that fillet of yours tidied up?” Sally asked as she was already on her knees applying the shaving cream to Bonita’s landing strip with a small brush as the girl’s friends looked on with interest.

Bonita blushed as she realized her friends were about to watch her get her pubic mound shaved, and then smiled as she found a distraction, “Look, the men at the reserved table have noticed that there are exactly four girls ready to enter the game room when the current five players finish their final minute, and they are about to activate their random generator. Sharon did know their routine!”

Three of the heroines quickly gave the reserved table their full attention, while Bonita divided her attention between the straight razor in Sally’s right hand above her sex and the men and their papered wives. Mr. Roberts and Ted sat across from each other and both had their hands stretched out to the small domed device with a button on each side; the device had colored plastic arrows with some sort of lighting mechanism inside at right angles from the buttons and pointed at the papered women who sat across from each other. “Look,” Janet said excitedly, “Mr. Roberts tapped the button on his side of the device…and the arrow lights on each side of the device are blinking on and off, alternating sides.”

“Yes!” Sue proclaimed “But now the blinking has stopped and the lighted arrow is pointing at the redhead, Mr. Roberts’ wife. It looks like Ted’s wife, Doris, doesn’t have to risk her breasts tonight.”

“Thanks, Sally,” said Bonita as the waitress finished shaving her. “The moans have stopped, so the booths will come open soon. Wanda could always cut in and save Mr. Roberts’ wife from a booth stay…at least for the moment.”

Sally quickly placed the shaving equipment on the tray, along with the now empty sandwich dishes and the previous round of Lactic Blaster glasses. She looked at Bonita and said sweetly, “Just wave if you want another round of drinks. I’ll keep my eyes open.” Sally watched Bonita nod before she hurried back to the bar.

“Look, the redhead’s dumping her clothes right there at her table,” Janet whispered, “and, as much as I would like to see Wanda get her big balloons popped, Bonita, I don’t think she better interfere with those men’s plans. I swear they’ve both been shooting glances our way as it is. We don’t want to anger someone who could order us to conversion facility.”

The redhead, finally down to her panties, turned and headed for ‘The Wall’ door, just as it opened and five girls, all wearing their bottoms and retaining their breasts, exited and began moving toward their respective tables. The four girls at the door, quickly entered the Game room, stripped and made their way toward the booths. The papered redhead then entered, doffed her panties, and turned to head for the last empty booth. As the heroines transferred their attention from ‘The Wall’ door to the debreasting portals at the back of the dance floor, four sets of boobs pushed through into their side of the room and they could see that the final set of portals to be filled would be booth 2’s.

“Ahhh, Wanda,” Sue suddenly whispered excitedly, “Mr. Roberts is pointing our way. More specifically, I think he is pointing at you!”

As she, Janet, and Bonita, joined Sue in looking at Mr. Roberts, Wanda could see that he was indeed pointing at her. Noting that he had Wanda’s attention, Mr. Roberts then pointed at booth 2, nodded, first at Wanda and then at booth 2. He then stared back at Wanda and motioned with his right hand, forefinger extended, across his own throat. “Oh my heck!” Wanda spat excitedly, “Mr. Roberts seems to be offering me a chance to debreast his wife! What’s up with that?”

“Actually, Wanda,” Janet whispered forcefully, “It seems a bit more likely that he is ordering you to poach his wife’s boobs, not offering you a chance to have fun on this side of the wall. The throat slitting signal was probably meant to tell you what will happen to you if you decline.”

“I agree with Janet, Wanda!” Sue whispered with urgency in her voice. “Mr. Roberts was obviously not happy with his wife losing her nerve when her number was picked in the first round of the lottery. From what I learned from Ted, the Club Xers demand that their wives be willing risk takers right along with un-papered guests. This could be a divorce in the making, or maybe he just wants to scare her and will wave you off before you hit her debreast button. Whichever it is, seeing as a set of boobs just went through the debreasting portals at booth 2, I think you better get up there and into position.”

Wanda, a confused look obvious on her face, nodded to Mr. Roberts and did exactly that. She walked quickly towards booth 2.

As Wanda finally stepped before booth 2, she reached out and lifted the two C-cups protruding from the debreasting portals, one in each hand, as if to test their weight. This brought an audible gasp of fear from the redhead, but otherwise the papered woman remained silent. Wanda had thought Mr. Roberts’ wife had looked pretty well endowed as she had walked to the Game room, but the heroine now realized that, while the redhead’s breasts were not small, they were actually smaller than Janet’s C-cups; they were merely chest ornaments on a smaller frame. Given that Janet’s band measurement was 36 and this woman’s was likely 34, and that the circumference around the fullest part of each girl’s pair exceeded her chest circumference below her bust by 3 inches, Janet’s breasts actually had a larger volume, and therefore a larger mass, given that the two girls breast shapes were similar. “Hi in there,” Wanda said looking into the blankness of the one-way window, “your breasts are very nice. I hope you don’t mind if I consider them.”

“Consider them?” a quivering fear-filled voice asked from within booth 2. “I’m in this booth, so that means my breasts are available for anyone to…consider. Are you…considering…them for…conversion…to bacon?” The redhead’s voice had become quite shrill by the time she had finished her question.

“Well, I’m really not sure,” Wanda answered honestly in a soft, pleasant voice, “but I suppose I might be. I have plenty of time to decide. I’m Wanda. Do you want to tell me your name? That way we can address each other properly as we talk.”

“Cynthia…Cynthia Roberts,” Mrs. Roberts answered in a fear-filled voice. “I knew your name, Miss Maximoff. My husband, Tyler, and his friend, Ted Stevens, learned it from Bill Jennings and then used it at our table. My husband and his friends seem to think you’re pretty special, Wanda. Are you special enough to let a girl leave a booth in the same condition she entered it? Even though the girl’s breasts are freely offered, and her debreasting button is within easy reach?”

“In most instances,” Wanda said softly, her own voice now quivering with emotion, “I would like to think I could manage to make things turn out right, Cynthia. However, in this…no I mean…at this time and in this place…I’m not sure I understand what right is. Why would your husband and Mr. Stevens be interested in me?”

“You mean other than the fact that you are a very beautiful woman sitting with three other beautiful women,” Cynthia chortled, most of the fear gone from her voice, “and that you and your friends were able to resist poaching Sharon’s huge knockers when you had her in one of these bacon traps when we first arrived? Well, they really didn’t say. Maybe it is just in my mind, but I sense they find something fascinating about your table. I’ve never seen Ted play the game so early, and never heard him dwell on how extraordinary a pair of breasts, which he had just converted to bacon, were.”

“Yes,” Wanda said softly, “but I would hope that Sue’s extraordinary composure while she was being debreasted had as much to do with Ted’s mindset as my blonde friend’s breasts. Sue set the bar high, for maintaining dignity while being trapped in one of those booths, didn’t she?”

Cynthia laughed! Then she whispered, “Advice given in a way that it doesn’t sound like advice. Good for you! I’ll manage whatever you decide. It’s not like it’s the first time my boobs have been at risk…or even my life.”

“You’re talking about the Lottery, earlier tonight?” Wanda asked softly. She knew Cynthia was most likely referring to Club X, but wanted the papered woman to bring it up of her own accord.

“I didn’t handle THAT too well, did I?” Cynthia said with obvious embarrassment. “I don’t know why having my number drawn shook me tonight. However, no, I was talking about our Saturday night parties at our social club, Club X. I’ve been one dart hit away from being debreasted three or four times there, and handled the fear fine. Also, Tyler has entered me in lotteries there a number of times, not to mention the time he had me and one other girl strapped into guillotines, with the certainty that one of us would be beheaded. Yes…I should be able to follow your advice…and your friend Sue’s example…when the time comes. Hell! That time has to be coming soon enough. I’m 29! I’m surprised Tyler hasn’t already traded me in for a younger trophy wife!”

“You don’t look 29, Cynthia,” Wanda said with encouragement, perhaps false encouragement given the circumstances. “Your husband probably thinks you’re still pretty nice eye candy! Do you enjoy playing those sexual games, some of which could be fatal, at Club X, Cynthia?”

“You bet I do, Wanda!” Cynthia giggled. “Playing those games makes you live every moment to your fullest extent, because you realize you may not have many moments left. Speaking of living every moment to its fullest extent, hopefully without sounding like I’m asking you to hit my debreast button, don’t you think you should start playing this game in a more conventional way? I’m already down to five minutes, and you haven’t even got my nipples hard!”

“Oh, all right!” Wanda laughed. “I’ll start giving those boobies of yours a real working over, as soon as I’ve checked your debreasting options. As one of my friends likes to say, I need to know what fun I get to put your mammaries through before I can decide whether or not to pop those lovely balloons.”

Back at the heroines’ table, Janet spat excitedly, “It’s about time! Wanda’s finally checking her debreasting options with the timer already at the halfway point.”

“Well, she seems to be serious about playing the game now,” Bonita said with glee evident in her voice, “Wanda has started suckling on her nipples. Do you hear? She is managing to entice some nice, soft moans of pleasure!”

“We’re not the only ones that heard,” Sue pointed out with a soft whisper. “Look! Mr. Roberts has got up and is walking towards the dance floor. Maybe he will wave Wanda off and let his wife keep her breasts after all!”

As Wanda was concentrating of gently massaging Cynthia’s breasts, occasionally tugging lightly on her now hardened nipples, she heard a sudden gasp of surprise from within booth 2. The heroine sensed someone standing behind her, and began to turn to see who it was.

“No, don’t turn around, Miss Maximoff,” Mr. Roberts commanded. “Don’t let my presence interfere with your breast play, but do tell me what debreasting options my wife has selected for you. Hello, Cynthia.”

“Hi, Tyler,” Cynthia said softly before quipping, “you’ve decided to get right close to the action, as usual, I see. Answer my husband, Wanda. He is very much used to having things his way.”

“Yes, of course, Mr. and Mrs. Roberts,” Wanda answered politely. “Cynthia has chosen the circular saw set on mid-speed. Her window, as you see, is set on one-way transparency, and, naturally, she set ‘declit-option no’.” Wanda returned to massaging the breasts poking from booth 2, not quite as well as she had before, being somewhat self-conscious about touching another woman while a man was standing right behind her. Then she gasped in surprise as felt her bikini top’s clasp being unhooked, and almost turned to slap the man before she regained control of her senses as she remembered where she was and a what a male’s rights were with respect to an un-papered girl such as herself.

“Oh my heck!” spat Bonita from the heroines’ table. “Look, Mr. Roberts is removing Wanda’s top. He just dropped it to the floor!”

“Yes!” Janet concurred shrilly, “and now he’s pawing her big boobs, one hand on each breast, while Wanda feels up his wife’s trapped tits! Good grief! That has to feel weird!”

“It’s more than that,” Sue pointed out, “I think Mr. Roberts is using Wanda’s breasts to demonstrate what he wants her to do to his wife’s breasts. See how she seems to be mimicking his every rub and nipple tweak!”

“That’s right, Wanda, your fingers on the underside of her breasts while your thumbs rub her turrets,” Tyler whispered in his sexiest voice, as he returned his own hands to grasp the heroine’s nipples between his middle and index fingers and his thumbs. “Now return your full attention to her nipples, just so, and,” Wanda let out a small pain-filled gasp, “pinch hard.” Wanda did so, eliciting a similar gasp from Cynthia. “You’ve not had a lot of experience, playing with another woman’s breasts, before tonight, have you, Wanda?” Mr. Roberts asked softly as they both went back to lifting and massaging the boobs before each of them.

“No,” Wanda replied truthfully as her face reddened from a sudden blush, “I don’t swing that way. I am very much a heterosexual person. However, in the present context, playing with a set that might soon get poached hasn’t bothered me though.”

“Good,” Tyler whispered barely audible to Wanda with the man’s mouth against her right ear, “then I suggest you give my wife’s teats a few more suckles before finishing what you came here to do.” Mr. Roberts released the big breasts in his hands, and said, “Good luck, Cynthia, my love! I’m going to leave you in Wanda’s very capable hands.” Tyler Roberts walked quickly back to his table to rejoin Ted and Doris.”

A pallid Wanda dropped her head to Cynthia’s breasts, giving each nipple a long suckle before rising up to stare into the one-way window before her, regret obvious on her face. “Cynthia, you should prepare yourself for the orgasmatron beams,” Wanda warned softly.”

“You’ve decided to poach my tits then, Wanda?” Cynthia asked, her voice full of fear, disappointment, and resignation.

“Yes, Cynthia, I have,” Wanda said softly, her own gold-flecked blue eyes tearing. Wanda reached slowly up towards Cynthia’s debreast button with her right hand.

“Then do as you must,” Cynthia rasped forlornly, “but please do it now!”

“Look!” Janet called out, her form once again bouncing in her chair with obvious excitement. “Wanda’s about to hit…I mean…just hit Mrs. Roberts’ debreast button.”

“Yes, you’re right Janet,” Sue concurred. “Look, Bonita, it’s the circular saw, rising upwards on this side of the booth.”

“Yes, and rising at a fairly high rate of speed,” Bonita observed, and then paused in thoughtfulness. “I wonder how Wanda feels about being ordered to debreast Mr. Roberts’ wife? Do you think she will be angry with Mr. Roberts?”

“Wanda won’t be doing handstands after following such and order,” Janet spat, disgust in her tone. “You can bet on that!”

“However,” Sue said softly, “Wanda will get over it…she won’t even complain when she gets back to our table. She knows, here and now, Mr. Roberts had the right do make her do so. Our friend will chalk it up to another ‘when in Rome’ experience, I’ll wager.”

“Yes, of course, Sue,” Bonita agreed, “Wanda has managed to maintain that attitude during this entire field trip. She won’t let this experience interfere with our girls’ night out. Look the saw is already approaching flesh!”

Wanda listened to Cynthia moaning behind the booth wall, as she rubbed the tender flesh of the mammaries that she herself had just doomed. She concluded the moans were mostly due to pleasure rather than fear, and contemplated not warning the woman of the approaching saw blade, but changed her mind. “In about ten seconds, Cynthia, the orgasmatron beam setting will be stepped up quite a bit, and the pain will begin. Just concentrate on the pleasure beam.”

“Yes, Wanda, thanks!” Cynthia spat as fear welled within her mind. “I’ll do what I’m supposed to do, but so should you. You’re supposed to make sure as much of me is on that side of the saw as possible. Grab my nipples and pull, you silly girl!”

Wanda quickly did as she was told, and not a moment too soon, for the saw almost immediately reached the bottom of Cynthia’s breasts, followed by a loud gasp filled with pain and fear, and three loud sighs that signaled Cynthia’s first beam-induced climax. The saw made good progress through Mrs. Roberts’ breasts, sending a light mist of blood spraying parallel to the spinning blade and allowing small rivulets of blood to trickle down the front of the booth. Except for the initial gasp and sighs, the redhead managed to keep her response to the pain and pleasure and fear and hopelessness to low moans that told of all four realities. “You’re doing great, Cynthia! Brave heart! I hope I manage as well as you are!”

“Thanks!” Cynthia gasped. “How much longer?”

“You’re a little over half-way through this,” Wanda said softly. “Try to concentrate on the pleasure beams.”

“I just…realized,” Cynthia rasped, “you said you…hope you manage…as well as I. Does that mean…you plan on…playing the game…on this side…of the wall?

“Yes,” Wanda admitted, “that’s why I came here. Actually, it’s participating on this side of the debreasting ports that I hadn’t foreseen when we arrived at Final Fantasy.”

Cynthia laughed hoarsely, “And here…I was…thinking you…were doing me…in hopes of…winning Tyler’s…affection! He…won’t…wed a…breastless…woman!”

“Don’t fret about that, Cynthia” Wanda replied in a soft quivering voice. “Tyler is handsome enough, but he is no match for the man I have a crush on,” Wanda said softly, thinking of Steve Rogers, who the world knew as Captain America. “Ready yourself girl,” Wanda warned, “you’re beam setting is about ready to shoot up as…”

As the saw finished Cynthia’s debreasting, and her boobs became bacon in Wanda’s hands, she sang, “OHHhhheeeee….EEEeeee…..EEeeeee!” As the powerful forced climax ended and Mrs. Roberts waited to be pulled from booth 2 to be bandaged, Wanda heard only the sound of deep and rapid breathing. Cynthia had done herself proud! Then the woman was out of the booth, with the help of the booth assistant, and the clean-up crew was back to making Final Fantasy’s booth walls and dance floor tidy.

Wanda turned to the reserved table, caught Mr. Roberts’ eye, and held the breasts in her hands towards him. He smiled, shook his head, nodded at one of the bar’s food ordering stations, stood, and walked to ‘The Wall’ door to wait for his wife, with Ted and Doris in tow.

Wanda walked quickly to the food ordering station, where Sally was waiting. “Hi Sally,” Wanda said softly, some of the shame she felt filtering through her voice, “well, that really blew. I guess I’ve earned the right to trade this breast bacon for four tomato and cucumber sandwiches. Will you have them delivered to our table, along with another round of Lactic Blasters?”

“Yes, Miss Wanda,” Sally said politely, before gently correcting the auburn-haired customer, “I’ll deliver the three vegetarian sandwiches and drinks to your table myself when they are ready. Your Latino friend will be taken to Jessica in just a few minutes.”

“OH!” Wanda said stunned. “Yes…of course…three sandwiches will be great!” As she turned to walk to her table and join her friends, she watched panty-clad Cynthia, with her circular bandages, walk towards the entrance of Final Fantasy along with Mr. Roberts, Mr. Stevens, and, finally, Mrs. Stevens, who carried Cynthia’s clothes; they were out of the building soon after Wanda had reached her friends. Wanda wondered if she would ever see any of the four from the reserved table again.

Chapter11. Bonita’s Final Fantasy

“Are you doing okay, Wanda?” Sue asked as her friend took her seat. Sue had a reason to be concerned. Wanda didn’t seem to be aware that her bikini top was still on the dance floor where Mr. Roberts had dropped it.

”Yes…fine,” Wanda answered softly. “Cynthia, Mr. Roberts’ wife, handled her debreasting quite well, didn’t she?”

“Yes, she did!” Bonita said enthusiastically. “You two seemed to talk for quite some time before you even seemed to consider her debreasting options. And then, Mr. Roberts walked out to join you. From our vantage point, it was a most unusual scene. What was said? What did it feel like to have a man’s hands on your breasts while yours were on those of the woman’s that you would soon poach? Sorry…just curious…as always!”

Janet grinned at Bonita and giggled, before grabbing Wanda’s right hand and imploring, “Take a deep drink of Lactic Blaster and formulate some answers to our Latino friend’s questions, but wait until I get back. I think I better fetch something before it disappears.” Janet quickly walked out to the dance floor and picked up Wanda’s bikini top, and then returned to hand the clothing to her big breasted friend.

“OH! Good Lord!” Wanda exclaimed, “I hadn’t realized…I feel so…”

“That’s okay, Wanda,” Sue reassured softly, “just put your top on. Then, if you’re up to it, answer Bonita’s questions.”

“Yes, of course,” Wanda replied, slipping on the garment, struggling briefly with the clasp. “The first five minutes were spent getting to know Cynthia, encouraging her to be brave like Sue when the time came, and trying to find out why the papered women’s men were so interested in us. Cynthia is a lovely woman, and I thought she exhibited great bravery during her debreasting. I didn’t really discover any special reason for the men’s interest in us, other than our sizzling good looks, of course.” All four girls laughed before Wanda continued, “I’m not particularly comfortable about touching, or being touched by, another woman in a sexual way anyhow, though I’ve managed just fine, or so I thought, outside the debreasting portals tonight. When Mr. Roberts joined us, I felt so self-conscious that I wanted to stop touching Cynthia. Then he removed my top and began feeling my boobs up…now that felt weird…until it was made obvious that he wanted me to do to his wife what he was doing to me. Then the experience became interesting rather than weird…until he left us there…Cynthia and I…to play our respective roles in the game.” Wanda frowned and looked introspective.

“Thanks for answering my questions, Wanda,” Bonita said softly, a tinge of fear in her voice. “This place never ceases to be interesting, and it looks like it will get interesting again soon, for me.” The Latino nodded towards the Jessica near ‘The Wall’ door, “It looks like Mr. Jennings is making his final inspection of my Jessica!”

“Yes,” agreed Sue, “if you want to change your mind…we can still make a break for it!” Sue nodded towards Final Fantasy’s exit.

“NO!” spat Bonita, before pleading. “Please don’t any of you suggest that course of action again!”

“Speaking of interesting,” Janet said as she nodded towards the door labeled ‘Barbecue Pits’, “it looks like Aimee is finally done roasting and on her way to the kitchen for carving.”

Seconds later, as the golden brown, roasted form was carried past the heroines’ table, Wanda stammered what all four girls were thinking, “GOD! That smells…good! Now…that…really makes me…uncomfortable!” The other three heroines were still silently nodding as the roast disappeared into the kitchen.

Tammy watched, bound helplessly face up on the butcher’s table, as the meat she had converted from Aimee was placed face down on the adjacent carving table by the pit attendants. The two muscular girls quickly cut the fire proof cords around the roast’s ankles and wrists, and then began backing the spit out of the roast, while the cook, Mary, held the fillet that should have been Tammy’s meal in place to prevent it from being deformed or otherwise damaged. The spit removed, the pit attendants turned the roast over so that it was face up, and then forced the roast’s arms and legs into a spread-eagle position similar to Tammy’s.

Mary nodded to the pit attendants, “Thanks, I can handle it from here. They will be bringing the lottery winner out to you soon enough.” Mary then picked up a big serrated knife and sawed the large, golden brown breasts off the roast one by one, placing them nipples up on a tray on a smaller table behind the carving table. Mary then picked up a smaller filleting knife and stood between the roasts legs. She took the tip of the knife and pushed it into the roast at the top left of its pubic mound, and then circled to the right side of the mound, down to the point where right thigh joined crotch, inward just forward of the anus, back up along the inner left thigh line, before finally meeting the point where the cut had started. The form of the fillet now clearly defined, Mary now began working the knife to lift the prime cut away from the roast’s pelvis bone, making sure every bit of fillet meat remained part of the cut.

Tammy suddenly ripped her eyes away from the roast being carved. Candace, the butcher had just stepped between her own legs, holding a filleting knife identical to Mary’s. “Please, I am a papered woman,” Tammy pleaded for the hundredth time. “Call my husband…he will verify it. You can’t do this to me! I’m Tammy McGreevy!” Candace pushed the tip of the knife into the top of the debreasted blonde’s pubic mound and quickly traced the outline of the girl’s prime cut, Tammy screaming in pain and terror the entire time. Then the blonde howled in excruciating pain as Candace worked to carefully remove the prime cut from the apex of the woman’s legs. It would be many long minutes before all of Tammy’s parts were harvested, as she slowly became cuts of meat.

Meanwhile, Bonita had been escorted by Sally to the side of the Jessica, just behind the knee pads, and Mr. Jennings was busy tying the Latino’s wrists with fire proof cord. The Jessica was the same as all of the others, except for five pieces of additional equipment. At the rear of the machine, attached to the bullet shaped spit propeller was a small dome with a short tube pointing forward, obviously the orgasmatron device. Beneath and behind the waist cradle was a long bracket that held a long blade, currently pointed to the rear in a horizontal position within the bracket, attached to a complex square holder that was also an automatic stitcher. A wide metal disposal chute extended at an angle from the base of this new bracket to a wide square hole in the floor at the base of the wall. Behind the Jessica, against the wall, now stood a large cylinder, labeled ‘stuffing’, with a long flexible rubber tube attached to it; the tube was tipped with a metal nozzle just over one-half inch in diameter. Underneath the neck cradle was another bracket, also holding a long blade in horizontal position pointed toward the wall on the wall side of the Jessica.

“Okay, your wrists are bound, sow,” Mr. Jennings said in a very formal tone. “The cords are not too tight, I hope?”

“No, Sir” Bonita said in a quivering voice as she looked at her three friends who stood nearby at the forward side of the Jessica, and then around at the large audience that had gathered to watch her ride the machine. “Should I mount the Jessica now?”

“In a minute, sow, I’ll let you know,” Mr. Jennings chided gently, determined to maintain the appropriate level of formality. “Are you finding the fear difficult to deal with?” Bill Jennings watched as Bonita shook her head negatively. “Good! I’m actually expecting you to be quite heroic and accept your fate in the most dignified manner possible.” The owner of Final Fantasy then placed a small remote control in Bonita’s right hand behind the girl’s back. “Can you feel the round button under your thumb, sow?” Mr. Jennings watched as the girl nodded. “If you press that, after you’ve been filled with stuffing, the automatic throat cutter will be activated. If you do that, you will shorten your life and miss out on feeling the coals below your roasting body, but the choice is yours. Now you may mount the Jessica!”

Bonita looked to her three friends, and smiled before announcing, “Just remember that this is my fantasy that I am living out, AND to keep the promises you made to me earlier.” The Latino then carefully climbed onto the machine, her knees carefully positioned on the kneepads, and without being told leaned forward. As gravity took over and the girl toppled, she took the weight of her body on both waist and neck pads simultaneously, and quickly pulled her hands as far up her back as possible to avoid getting them trapped in the waist restraint that had snapped tight in unison with the neck, upper calve, and ankle restraints. Its victim trapped, the Jessica’s spit propeller sprang to life with a click and a whir, and the long sharp spit began inching forward towards Bonita’s sex.

“Mr. Jennings, is it okay if I tenderize that sow’s pussy?” a young red-haired male, likely no older than 18, asked.

“Well I don’t…” Bill Jennings paused as he watched anger suddenly flash across the sow’s three friends’ faces.

“If he means, can he have sex with me?” Bonita called back, having also seen the rage in her friends faces, “then, heck yes! I want to get everything I can out of this experience!”

“Go for it, Tony,” Bill Jennings said nodding at the girl on the Jessica. “However, just remember that Final Fantasy isn’t liable if you take too long and you get your package skewered before you cum.”

“I’ll keep that well in mind,” Tony said as he climbed up onto the machine’s leg platforms, dropped his trousers and shorts, positioned his already hardened member between the Latino girl’s labial lips, and grunted, “Here it comes, sow!” He then thrust hard, expecting resistance from a dry vagina, but was instead surprised to find the girl was sopping wet. The redhead then began thrusting his rigid member in and out of Bonita’s tight sex, eliciting moans of pleasure from her. Bonita, for her part, was careful to not let herself get carried away and ask the boy to pound his phallus even harder into her love canal, even though she wanted to—she had to maintain a certain level of decorum, after all! A couple of minutes later, Bonita issued a long sigh, and Tony yelled, “YES!” as he spilled his hot, sticky load of seed! After a brief second of enjoying his pleasure, he twisted his head to check where the spit tip was. The boy’s eyes widened with fear, and he quickly pulled out of the still bucking girl and leaped off of the Jessica. Another half inch and he would have been nailed to the girl he had been nailing!

Meanwhile, Bonita, who had been watching her friends’ faces change from concern to wry smiles when they heard her climax, watched as the three faces filled with apprehension as the boy pulled out of and off of her. She knew that meant the spit tip was close, and braced herself. She was ready for the steel as it began to part her labial lips—she wasn’t ready for her first taste of an orgasmatron beam, and moaned loudly before grunting as she climaxed again. Finally, she regained her composure, and concentrated on how it felt to have thick steel pushing open her sex, and the continued glow from the pleasure beams. ‘Wanda, was right,’ she thought, ‘you couldn’t help but think of the thick steel sliding into your vagina as just another phallus engaging in intercourse with you.’ She wanted to call out and tell her friends that, but there was that damned dignity to maintain!

Then Bonita heard herself gasp in surprise, and felt her body go rigid, as the sharp spit point reached the back of her love canal, and its progress forward met its first real resistance. The Latino braced herself for the pain that would slowly increase to become her principal experience for the rest of her life. ‘Thank heavens for the pleasure beams,’ Bonita thought, ‘if I try hard enough, maybe I can focus on them, instead of the pain.’

Wanda knew what Bonita’s body language was saying, and quickly bent down to whisper to her friend, “Are you doing okay, sweety?” She could see the pain in the Latino’s eyes, just as she was sure the fear and concern in her own eyes could be read by anyone who cared to look.

“Me?” Bonita quipped jovially, although pain was evident in her voice. “I’m just peachy. This is my fantasy remember!”

Wanda nodded, “Yes it is, isn’t it. The pain will get worse for a minute, and then it will start to ease”

“Huh…AHHH!” Bonita gasped in reply. “Did I ever tell you what a know it all you are, Wanda?” the Latino chortled softly. “Just teasing…I think the tip has pushed past the initial resistance from my body and will be moving into my abdominal cavity now. I just wish I had some more sexy distractions.”

“I heard that, sow,” a bald man, aged about 50, said from near the edge of the crowd. “If Mr. Jennings will allow it, my son Mark and I would sure love to tenderize those orifices that are still available for use.”

“Well I…” Bill Jennings began. Then the owner of Final Fantasy went silent as he read the rage in the girl’s friends’ faces as they heard the man threaten Bonita with a double dose of sodomy.

Bonita laughed, surprising everyone, “Normally…I would say…‘Hell NO!’…to at least half…of that offer…being eager to keep my…sphincter un-stretched…for as long…as possible. However…being the…curious person…that I am…and seeing…as this…is my last…possible opportunity…to give…anal sex…a try…I say…let them…at me…Mr. Jennings!”

Mr. Jennings looked over to Bonita’s friends, and shrugged his shoulders, before saying, “I’m just a male and the owner of this establishment! Who am I to get in this sow’s way! She’s all yours, Matt and Mark!”

“You’re up front, Son,” Matt told the bearded man, aged about 30 beside him. “Let’s try to last for a good long while through the tenderizing process, giving the sow the nice long distraction she deserves.”

“Sure thing, Dad,” Mark replied, excitement evident in his voice, as he quickly strode forward to stand in front of Bonita’s face. He was now between the Latino and her tablemates. “Open up, sow,” Mark said as he pulled down his pants and underwear. “Let’s see what kind of cock sucker you are. Just make sure you don’t bite when Dad starts pushing into that tight ass of yours.” As Bonita opened her mouth, perhaps to issue a retort, Mark pushed his penis deep into her mouth, making the girl gag as he commanded, “Suck, sow! Suck my dick!” Bonita began complying as best she knew how. This wasn’t her first attempt at fellatio; it was her second!

Meanwhile, Matt, who had climbed up onto the Jessica’s leg platforms and dropped his own pants and briefs, spit into his right hand and began lubricating the glans of his penis. Then he leaned over the girl, grabbed the end of her waist pad with his left hand, and used his right hand to position the tip of his phallus against the rosebud of her sphincter. He slowly began allowing his weight to bear down upon the girl’s tight opening, eliciting a long low moan from Bonita’s overfilled mouth. “Don’t fight me, sow!” Matt commanded, “Try to relax your muscles back here and let me slide through. It will hurt at first, but then you’ll get used to it.”

Bonita tried to nod around the penis in her mouth, to show that she had heard and would try to comply. Then her eyes filled with tears as Matt’s turgid penis did indeed begin to push past her tight sphincter into virgin territory. ‘God! That hurts!’ thought Bonita. ‘I need to concentrate on not biting. Jeese, am I going to regret my curiosity for the rest of this ride on Jessica?’

Mark, meanwhile, was in front of the spit machine pleading, “Come on, sow, suck and use your tongue. Surely cock sucking should come natural to a good looking sow like you!”

Matt, meanwhile had finally pushed past Bonita’s portal and was slowly pushing his phallus to the depths of the Latino’s rectum. “God, this sow’s tight,” the bald man gasped. “I believe the sow! I’m now going where no man has ever gone before!”

Bonita gasped in pain as her ass was on fire, while at the same time trying to suck and lick the penis in her mouth. ‘Well, at least I’m not dwelling on that probing pain that I now feel around my stomach,’ the young heroine thought. Then she felt Matt begin pulling his member out of her rectum, only to plunge it more quickly back downwards, causing the Latino to moan in pain just as Mark had pushed the head of his penis into the back of Bonita’s throat, causing her to gag as her air passage was momentarily blocked.

“Don’t choke, baby sow!” Mark chortled. “You’ve a whole lot more sucking to do before you earn my blast of hot cum!”

Meanwhile, Matt announced, “Okay, now I have you loosened up, sow. Get ready to really get your ass fucked!” The bald man then began pushing in and out of the girl’s rectum with rhythm, just as he would if he was fucking her pussy. Bonita was issuing one long continuous moan now.

Mark, unable to urge the Latino into demonstrating any advanced oral techniques, simply began humping her face, changing the texture of the sounds coming from the sow’s throat to gag, moan, gag, moan, over and over again. He looked up at his father, just as his father looked at his son. His father help up two fingers, indicating that Mark needed to hold his orgasm off for that length of time in minutes. Mark nodded to indicate he would try.

Bonita by now, was getting used to the phalluses pushing into cavities at each end of her body, and while neither sensation was pleasant, neither sex act was particularly painful at this point. She could feel steel pushing into her chest cavity now, but even that pain was dulled as it mixed with all of the other sensations the Latino was experiencing, including the orgasmatron beam, the intensity of which had been ramped up significantly.

“Take my cock as I plunder your asshole, sow,” Matt commanded as he fucked the girl hard. His face was contorted as he fought from plunging over the edge in climax. “You are going to come for us, when we spray hot cum into you from both ends, aren’t you, sow?” He almost lost control as he watched the girl nod around his son’s face pounding penis!”

“Try not to drown in my semen, sow,” Mark quipped as he looked pleadingly up to his father’s narrowed eyes. He couldn’t hold back any longer. Then he saw his father nod and close his own eyes in concentration. Both men moaned loudly as they sprayed their semen into Bonita’s orifices. They were rewarded with three rapid staccato sighs, indicating the Latino had also been brought to climax. Each man rested for a few seconds, allowing the last drops of their discharge to drain into the sow, and then pulled out and high-fived each other. Meanwhile, Bill Jennings had reached under to guide Bonita’s nipples so that they were centered by the needles of the breast injectors that had just been deployed from the Jessica’s stand. A brief grunt, was the only indication that the girl in the spit machine was aware of two more penetrations into her body.

“Thanks, fellahs!” Bonita hissed, bringing a lot of surprised eyes, including the father and son team’s, to her face as she swallowed instead of spit. “Just for the record…in case anyone is keeping score…I have an orgasmatron beam…centered on my clitoris. Don’t be thinking…that that nastiness…made me…climax!”

Wanda, followed by Sue and Janet, kneeled down to look up into Bonita’s eyes. “Great performance, sweety,” Wanda said proudly. “You really showed those men the meaning of spirit!”

“You sure did, you brave woman,” Janet concurred as she whipped a drop of cum from the Latino’s face and rubbed it off on her own bikini bottoms. “How are you holding up…with the pain from the spit?”

“Janet,” Sue protested, “she was trying to use those men to distract her from that! I too am proud of you, Bonita!”

“No time…for more…distractions…Sue,” Bonita gasped, a word or two at a time. “The spit…will soon…enter…my throat. The pain…is…manageable…Janet. Especially…for a…pain slut…and…sex whore…like us! How big..are my…breasts…Wanda…after the…breast injector? They…feel…huge! Must…tell you…I am...curious about…live roasting…but have…decided…not to…put…you three…through it. I will…deploy the…throat cutter…when the…time comes!”

“The breast injectors are still injecting the cooking oil and herbs, Bonita,” Wanda replied softly, “but they will be D-cups, for sure, when the process is over.” Wanda stroked Latino’s long black hair several times as she waited for the inevitable. “Brave heart, Bonita,” Wanda implored as she heard the girl suddenly gag and watched her throat begin to swell. “The pain will be over soon!” Thirty seconds later, the three heroines could see their friend’s teeth begin to be wedged open, and all three glared into the crowd as they heard someone declare, “I can see the tip of the spit. The sow is meat!”

The heroines remained where they were, kneeling before their Latino friend as the breast injectors retracted and more and more spit protruded from their friend’s wedged open mouth. The ever curious Bonita couldn’t help stare at the receding spit tip through her crossed brown eyes. Then, the Latino caught her friends’ suddenly glance at her torso with fear-widened eyes, heard a click as a blade snapped up into her belly just above her pubic mound and then was quickly pulled up her torso to her sternum; the pain in her lower belly rabidly progressed up her abdomen as the auto-gutter did its work. She felt her insides pushing downward, trying to escape her abdominal cavity, but gravity wasn’t enough to make that happen. Bonita felt someone, Candace the butcher having now finished with Tammy as it so happened, pull open the sides of her belly and she felt a whoosh as her intestines dropped down the chute. Candace spent a few long seconds pulling loose bits out of the sow’s cavity before getting out of the way while her boss activated the auto-stitcher. The blade flipped back into horizontal position, and the top of the housing was drawn back down the girl’s body towards the rear of the Jessica as tiny needles and clamps move at dizzying speeds to sew up the long wound.

While all of this was happening, the spit propeller had kept driving the spit through Bonita’s body. This now stopped as the girl was now centered on the spear. Bonita suddenly felt something inserted into her ass for the second time tonight, and knew instinctively that, this time it was for injecting stuffing, not semen. Seconds later she experienced the strange sensation of having her belly filled from opposite the normal direction. It didn’t take long before she was declared full.

“Get the anal stabilizer, Candace,” Bill Jennings ordered, “while I tie her ankles to the top side of the pole. Don’t worry, meat, we’ll have you out there doing a horizontal pole dance as you roast in no time at all.”

Bonita, who could see all three of her friends staring into her face with looks of sadness but pride as well, winked, and pushed the button of the remote control still in her right hand. The blade of the automatic throat cutter popped up with an audible click, and the whole room looked up to see the blade flash from the wall side to the room side of the girls head, and blood pour from both severed jugglers. Bonita was gone before any of the clean-up crew could get a container under her wound. The Latino would never feel the indignity of the anal stabilizer being inserted into her behind. He friends slowly returned to their table, short one spunky tablemate.

To be continued.

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