Chapter 10. Chumming For Breasts

 

             After Wanda had watched Bill finish fitting Janet with her anal plug and walk around to the front of the milking stalls to wait for the college students and teachers to finish filing into the dairy, she glared with obvious anger at her teammate.  In a low whisper, the big-breasted Avenger spat, “I better not hear even one complaint out of you about your sphincter feeling stretched, Janet!  That thing Bill stuck in YOU is no wider than one of my fingers, and the anal plugs, bearing MY brand name, which he used on the THREE OF US, are obscenely HUGE!  I should have thrown you face down on the floor two years ago, after I had one used on me the first time, and shoved one of these monsters up your ass while I sat on your back!”

            “I said I was sorry, Wanda,” Janet replied while blushing badly.  “I was planning on telling you about the new product line the next day.  How was I to know Cap already knew about it, and had found out about your cheating in the card game?  Besides, you like the ‘Secretly Scarlet’ vibrator don’t you?”

            As Wanda opened her mouth to reply, Sue hissed, “Hush up you two!  I think the class is about to be started, and I don’t think you should interrupt the teacher.”

            Zatanna laughed and then chortled softly, “What Sue really means, girls, is that she doesn’t want your little catfight to draw undue attention to us.  She wants to see how long she can keep her mouth empty!”  As Sue blushed, the other three heroines quietly chuckled.  Zatanna had Sue’s motivation nailed, naturally.  Still, Wanda and Janet knew Sue was right, and wanting to keep their own mouths empty, ended their discussion of a past mistake now haunting them in the future.

 

            Wanda was surprised at the size of the group of people before her.  She guessed that almost sixty people had entered the dairy as part of the field-trip class, and most of these people had taken seats on the dairy’s floor in front of the milking stalls.  Ten nude females were standing, one of them a debreasted woman in her late forties; Wanda thought it likely that the standing girls were the teachers.

            Of the approximately fifty students sitting on the floor, ten were clothed boys and the rest were nude girls, a half-dozen of which had scars where breasts once protruded.  Three of the boys were sitting together, with girls sitting between their legs leaning back against the boys’ chests as the boys played with their breasts—evidently the boys’ girlfriends.

            Wanda’s gaze settled on the head teacher, a rivetingly beautiful blue-eyed blonde equipped with huge, perfect DD-cup breasts tipped with erect pinkish nipples protruding from unusually large pinkish areolae.  Like most of the girls, her pubic mound was clean-shaven.  After exchanging a few words with Bill, she turned to face the students and said, “Boys and girls, we will go ahead and get started.  First, I want to thank Mr. Bill Jennings for inviting the Metropolitan University women’s life-preparation class field trip to the Final Fantasy dairy.  Let’s give Mr. Jennings a round of applause to show our appreciation!”

            As the head teacher watched Bill smile and nod to show he appreciated the clapping, she turned back to the students and said, “As all of you should be aware, women’s life-preparation is a required course for all girls, and is supposed to be taken in the freshman year.  All girls must receive a passing grade in the course to graduate from university.  It is also a required course for all men majoring in psychology or sociology.”

            The blonde smiled before continuing, “This field trip is the final class activity, a non-optional activity, and is meant to reward you all for a long semester.  As you all know, final exams were given Monday, and I scored those exams yesterday.  Final course grades are being posted on my office door by the department secretary at this very time; however, a few of you will learn what grades you earned during this very field trip.  I’ll now let Mr. Jennings take over and begin the field-trip lectures and demonstrations.”

            “Thank you, Miss Hunsaker,” Bill said with a friendly smile.  “Boys and girls, this class is designed to work in tandem with the Senior-grade high school home economics class field trip that I also teach here at this dairy.  How many of you came to the Final Fantasy dairy on one of those field trips?”  Bill smiled as almost all of the girls on the floor raised their hand, as did two of the boys, and two of the teachers.

            “Good,” Bill said softly, “then let’s recap what we learned on that field trip, which was designed to help you learn about how the world’s food supply is produced.  First we used this dairy as a venue to talk about milk production and its role in the worldwide food chain, what type of girl would likely undergo conversion to milk cow when she finally won The Lottery, and what post-conversion life was like for a milk cow.  This naturally brought up the subject of meat grading, and we talked about the fact that all non-milk cows are fated to eventually become meat in the worldwide food chain after winning The Lottery—depending on the rating bestowed on the girl by the government, a sow is either going to become a live roaster, long pig, meat cuts, or ground meat at a government-run conversion facility.”

            “This led to a discussion about some girls not wanting to leave their fate entirely up to the government meat graders and the possibility that the next list of randomly selected lottery numbers might include her number,” Bill said softly and calmly.  “We talked about how some women decide to donate to the food chain at their own schedule and in their own manner.  Some of these girls go all the way, volunteer for full conversion, and become live roasters, long pigs, or meat cuts, as a favor to friends, due to the loss of an interesting gamble or game, or simply to choose the manner of their own death.  Other girls choose to volunteer for partial conversion and donate unneeded body parts in exchange for money, the thrill of the danger and pain, a chance for pleasure with a possibility of not having to pay a price for that pleasure, or simply to educate others.”

            “After having served all of you breast bacon sandwiches, it was only natural for me to point out that breasts are the most common body parts donated during a partial conversion,” Bill grinned broadly as most of the girls in the room were nodding to show they remembered.  “After bringing up the concept of breast bacon donation, a number of the high school teachers on the field trip volunteered to demonstrate debreasting methods for you, the number varying depending on which specific field trip you were on.” 

Bill smiled before continuing with, “On most every field trip, one teacher demonstrated being debreasted in a manner a butcher would use at a store or butcher shop, where the partial conversion leads to breast donation in exchange for money.  On every field trip, at least one teacher demonstrated a more complicated debreasting where she was allowed to be brought to climax by and orgasmatron beam emitter as her breasts became bacon; the type of experience a girl may have at a debreasting booth nightclub, such as my own club, Final Fantasy.  If there are enough volunteers, I usually have another teacher demonstrate what can happen to a girl if things get out of hand at a private party or club and a partial conversion becomes less than fully voluntary.”

“Now, following the debreasting demonstrations, our next subject was full conversion and meat grading,” Bill continued calmly.  “We talked about the fact that turning a girl into meat meant that her life cycle was ending, and that some method or machine would be used to terminate her.  We talked about the execution methods and machines lining the wall of the dairy here.  On every field trip so far, there has been at least one teacher who volunteered to demonstrate full conversion, usually because her number had come up in The Lottery.  Who can tell me what the last demonstration was about?”

“You demonstrated a non-voluntary full conversion using one of the teachers, sir,” a pretty redhead in the center of the sitting students called out.

“Yes, that is right, Miss,” Bill said with a smile.  “That demonstration was meant to teach you students the lesson of male power.  Any un-papered girl may be made to do anything at all by an adult male, including donate her meat via full conversion.  That is one of the most important lessons a girl can learn, and we will discuss the implications of that reality further today as it does significantly impact a girl’s life, especially if she hasn’t prepared herself for that part of living.  The final point of the high school field trip was that you girls need to take care of your bodies as well as your minds, so that you don’t slide down in grade rating as you become older.  You are the most important part of the worldwide food chain—your meat is what we eat!”

“Okay, that sums up what we have already learned, and will be the starting point for today’s field trip class,” Bill smiled as he held his hands out in front of him.  “Before I continue lecturing, however, I think we need to take our first break, mainly so that you can collect a drink and a breast bacon sandwich from Cheryl at the counter.  She will also be providing every breasted girl with drink tickets that can be exchanged for Lactic Blasters at Final Fantasy.”

Bill cleared his throat to bring the eyes back from the food counter to himself and said, “You can also wander around and examine the execution machines.  I need to remind you that this is a working dairy, and the back three rows of milk cows, converted sows, may not be touched while they are working by Department of Agriculture regulation.  Any girl touching them will be terminated in the most painful manner I can manage; any male touching them will be docked.” 

Bill grinned mischievously before continuing, “The sows in the front row of milking stalls are volunteer milk cows, and are not governed by Department of Agriculture regulations.  If any of you boys have a fancy for older women, you may use these sows’ mouths while they are in the milking stalls as this will not put you too close to the converted milk cows.  If any of them run dry, they will be sent to kneel in front of the counter.  There, you can have them put their tits on the floor, if you fancy, and take them from behind.  However, they displeased me earlier, and are being forced to wear anal plugs as punishment.  Don’t interfere with their punishment, or I’ll have you docked!”

“One final thing before we break!” Bill said sternly.  “The girl behind the counter is my head waitress, and will be helping set up demonstrations.  She has many duties to attend to; don’t any of you boys get it in your head to interfere with her as she goes about her business.  If you do, I’ll toss you out of this dairy before you conclude this mandatory field trip, and whatever grade you earned will be changed to an F.  You may begin your break, but retake your present positions in ten minutes time.  You’ll find this field trip is going to be much more interactive than the high school one was.”

                       

            As the students stood and began to roam the dairy, some to examine the execution machines and some to form a line before the counter to collect their refreshments, the three couples move forward to stand before the heroines.  A short-haired brown-eyed blonde with brownish-pink-tipped C-cups, her slim black-haired Latino boyfriend behind her playing with her breasts, moved in front of Zatanna and began feeling her pulsing breasts through the transparent plastic of her milkers.  The other two couples mimicked the blonde and her boyfriend—a blue-eyed brunette with shoulder-length hair and pinkish-brown-tipped DD-cups stood before Wanda feeling her breasts while a muscular black boy stood behind her, and a black girl with long raven-black hair and brownish-tipped D-cups did the same for Sue with a slightly chubby blonde boy behind her.

            “Hi, girls, are you enjoying getting your tits milked dry?” the blonde asked in an arrogant tone.  The three girls each had neatly trimmed Brazilians, evidently not choosing to conform to the clean-shaven trend that most girls went with.  Each of the boys wore casual clothing, slacks and short-sleeve shirts, under their broad grins and gleaming eyes.

            “Well, Miss, I don’t know if enjoy is a word I would use to describe this experience,” Zatanna chuckled.  “However, it’s not the worst duty I’ve ever pulled.  You should give it a try sometime.  I’m sure Mr. Jennings would pay you to do a milking stint.”

            “Do we look like the kind of girls that need money, cow?” the blonde spat angrily.  “Besides we’re here to give something else a try!  Let’s do it, Ladies!”  The three college girls bent over and began kissing the three heroines before them. 

            Wanda almost gagged as she found a tongue that wasn’t her own pushing deep into her mouth.  Fortunately, a dozen seconds later, the college girls straightened up.  Wanda just barely managed to hold her tongue from issuing a complaint; she didn’t like being treated like a lesbian!

            “Don’t worry girls!” the blonde hissed, noting the looks of disgust on the heroines’ faces.  “We won’t do that again…because we don’t like the taste of cum…and soon your mouths are going to be filled with it.  Have at them boys!”

            Sue groaned in disappointment, garnering a grin from Zatanna, as the boys and girls in front of the heroines exchanged places, and the boys unzipped their trousers.  Then Wanda groaned as well—the black boy’s penis wasn’t that long, maybe six inches, but it looked to be as thick as a beer can!  Wanda wasn’t sure he would be able to force it into her mouth. 

            “Can you pass me one of those medium-sized platforms?” the boy in front of Sue asked his girl.  Soon he was perched two-inches above the floor and pushing his medium-sized seven inches into the blonde heroine’s frowning mouth.

            The Latino in front of Zatanna was the longest of the three boys, and was already banging the back of the raven-haired heroine’s throat with the end of his eight-incher by the time the black boy had managed to wedge Wanda’s mouth open wide enough to slide the head of his manhood past the auburn-haired beauty’s teeth.  Soon all three boys were avidly fucking faces, while the heroines did all they could to gulp in air.

            Janet grinned and watched wide-eyed as her three friends were forced to perform oral sex, and then flinched badly in her stall as she heard, “Are you sure you’re not feeling a little left out of things, Miss?”  Janet looked up to see a tall-and-sturdy-looking bearded blonde boy standing before her, wearing a friendly smile on his face as he watched her reaction with his twinkling blue eyes.

            “I hadn’t thought so, handsome,” Janet giggled, “but I think I just changed my mind.  However, if you’re going to unzip and show me what you’re packing, might I suggest that you let me show my oral skills instead of following their examples and using my mouth as a vagina.  You’ll have more fun, and we’ll beat them done in spite of their head start.”

            “Now that is an offer I won’t refuse,” the boy replied as he unzipped his denim jeans and fished out a massive penis. 

Janet grinned as the boy began to push his turgid member toward her mouth, thinking, ‘Last picked again, but last must be my lucky position.  That monster must be ten inches long and more than one-and-a-half inches thick!  I’ll bet he’s got huge testicles too!’  Having thought the thought, Janet suggested, “Hey, drop your trousers!  If we manage to get that thing all the way down my throat, I want to feel balls bouncing off my chin, not a zipper chapping my lips!”

            “Damn, you are one fun loving chick!” the boy exclaimed with a grin, complied with Janet’s request, revealing huge, low-hanging testicles, and slid the head of his penis into the heroine’s mouth.  He moaned in pleasure as the girl went to work avidly sucking while pumping her head upward and downward over his shaft.  With each downward plunge of the girl’s head, more of his penis went into her mouth, until finally his glans was being swallowed by her throat.  Soon four men were moaning in pleasure to the accompaniment of sucking and, occasionally, gagging sounds.

            The oral conquest of the four volunteer milk cows was starting to garner a fairly large audience when a loud snap followed by a scream of fear and a familiar clicking and whirring sound was heard.  All four heroines knew that was the sound of a Jessica machine catching an unwilling girl in its trap.  Understandably, the audience changed venue—why watch four girls get their mouths impaled by flesh, when you could watch an unwary sow get a six-foot-long one-and-a-half-inch-thick sharply pointed steel spit slowly shoved through her body from labium to lips.

            As their three girlfriends departed to get a better look at the spitting, the three boyfriends became distracted and humped the faces in front of them less frequently, allowing Wanda, Zatanna, and, even, Sue to begin employing their own fellatio skills.  All four heroines wanted to finish the boy before her as quickly as possible—Sue, Wanda, and, even, Zatanna to end the sexual distraction that had been forced upon them, and Janet to win the contest she seemed to turn everything into.

Wanda could hear the girl on the spit moaning softly in fear over the moans of pleasure from the men in front of the heroines and the ruder sounds that accompany fellatio, and then, a minute later, the girl shrilled in abject terror.  Wanda knew this meant the spit point had reached and begun to part the girl’s labial lips.  Wanda also knew the girl would soon begin sighing in climax—it was impossible not to equate the feel of thick steel moving into your vaginal cavity with intercourse!  Wanda tried to ignore the gasps of orgasm, and concentrate on the impossibly thick penis in her mouth—if she didn’t get the boy to cum soon she was going to have one very sore jaw the next morning!   She began to twist her mouth around the shaft in her mouth as she bobbed downwards, and to lick her tongue along the penis’ frenulum at the base of its glans at the end of each backstroke.

            Sue knew from watching Aimee’s ride on Jessica her first night in the 41st Century that the short, sharp scream, followed by gasps of horror, which had begun immediately after the orgasmic sighs abruptly ended, meant that the girl on the spitting machine could feel her cervix being pierced by the sharp spit.  Sue felt badly for the girl, but she felt more badly for herself and the feeling that she had cheated on her husband that she knew she would be taking home with her at the end of the day.  Sue concentrated on sucking on the head of the manhood in her mouth between gentle bobs, but she knew she would have to practice her deep-throat techniques before long.

            Zatanna was already pushing her boy’s glans into her esophagus at the end of each long push over the penis in her mouth.  She hadn’t watched a spitting up close like her friends had, but she knew the mournful moans and pain-filled gasps coming from the left and behind her meant a girl was having sharpened steel pushed upward through her guts.  Those sounds of hopeless despair seemed to go on forever.  Zatanna tried to ignore them and bring her man to climax.

            Janet had been taking the full length and massive girth of the penis in her mouth for several minutes.  The blonde boy above her was holding his breath and looking upwards with his eyes closed.  The spunky heroine knew she was close to finishing him, and applied the culmination technique Wanda had told her about—she began swallowing with the boy’s penis buried deep within her throat.  The boy groaned loudly, and ropes of warm semen began flooding into Janet’s gullet.  The boy’s pulsing manhood remained buried to the hilt for more than a minute, before the penis was pulled from Janet’s mouth.

            “Wow!” the boy gasped.  “You’re one hell of a cock sucker, Miss.  Thanks loads!  No offense, but I’m going to get closer to the spitting.  It won’t be long before the spit tip begins to pry Vicky’s mouth open.”

            As the handsome boy hurried away, Janet twisted her head to the left and back, and could see ‘Vicky’ was getting herbs and cooking oil injected in her B-cup breasts from needles that had been put into position underneath her.  The redhead’s breasts looked swollen and slightly deformed, so the breast injections must have been going on for some time.  That meant the spit was well into her chest, likely traveling up her esophagus.  Janet turned to grin at her friends’ faces, knowing they wouldn’t look at her even if they could.  She wondered who would finish second.

            Janet’s question was answered a few seconds later as the Latino boy began gasping as he spewed semen into Zatanna’s mouth. 

Sue was getting frustrated, and finally pushed her boy’s penis into her throat.  The slightly chubby boy moaned loudly and ejaculated immediately.  Sue pulled her head back and took the huge load in her mouth.  As the boy pulled out, she was tempted to spit, but didn’t—Sue Richards swallowed the sticky discharge.

Wanda groaned loudly in disappointment.  She hated to be last.  ‘Still,’ she thought, ‘I am at a disadvantage!  This guy is barely long enough to deep throat, and even if he wasn’t, he’s so thick I would probably choke to death.’  She concentrated on her sucking, and licking, and head pumping, until finally the black boy groaned and filled her mouth with copious amounts of semen.  Wanda swallowed desperately, trying to avoid hot, sticky ejaculate from leaking out of the corners of her mouth and making a mess of her face.

As the three boys departed, Zatanna chortled, “Well at least we got lunch!  And I was getting hungry too!”

“Yes, although a few ounces of protein won’t provide too many calories,” Wanda said with a grin that suddenly became a frown.  “It looks like we got ‘lunch’, as Zatanna put it, just as she became dinner meat.”  Wanda nodded to the redhead on the Jessica, where the four heroines could see the tip of the spit exiting the gagging girl’s mouth.  They watched as the spit slowly forced her mouth wider as it moved forward, until Vicky could see it before her with crossed eyes.

The four 21st Century girls quickly looked back to the front of their stalls, to see Bill Jennings grinning at them as he said loudly, “All right, the show’s over…she’s spitted…the sow that was a girl when you came here is now meat waiting for the coals!  If you students haven’t got your refreshments yet, you better get the move on.  I want you reassembled at the front of the room in two minutes!”  

 

Five minutes later, after the pit attendants had removed the spitted girl and Bill had personally loaded another steel spear into the Jessica’s spit propeller, Bill began lecturing again, “Okay, we just learned a couple of lessons about women’s life during this century that you girls need to be prepared for.  First, any man can have almost any girl provide sexual service to him or to other men.  Second, women are now so important to the worldwide food chain that men have made machines to trick girls into full conversion before winning The Lottery.  That girl didn’t volunteer to be a live roaster, but she wasn’t forced into involuntary conversion at the command of a man.  I warn all high school field-trip classes that that Jessica machine will be armed when they come here on this college-level field trip.  It didn’t matter that I warned you and still doesn’t—even after seeing the machine at work, I’ll wager Jessica will trap another of you today.”

“Now, before the break, we were summarizing what we learned during the high school field trip,” Bill said with a smile.  “Well, if we are going to be honest, we spent much of that field trip talking about many women making partial conversions by donating their breasts, and demonstrating debreasting techniques.  I like to see what effect that field trip had on girls’ attitudes about breast bacon donation a year or so later.  Therefore, I’ll ask you the same question I asked then.  How many of you girls have fantasies about being debreasted?”  Bill smiled as every girl in the room raised their hands except Miss Hunsaker and the two teachers who had been on the high school field trip.

“Good,” Bill said with a chuckle, “that bodes well for my business at Final Fantasy.  I see a half-dozen students here that have already been debreasted.  How many of you donated your breast bacon to the worldwide food chain at a debreasting booth nightclub?”  Bill smiled as five of the six girls raised their hands, and asked “How many of you five donated your breasts at Final Fantasy?”  Bill nodded as only one arm dropped, and asked, “Do any of you regret your debreasting experience?”  Seeing no arms raised Bill moved on to the boys, asking, “How many of you gentlemen fantasize about debreasting a willing girl?”  Bill grinned as all the male hands were raised.

“Doctor Dobson, you were debreasted in one of my orgasmatron-equipped debreasting booths at Final Fantasy six months ago, were you not?” Bill asked turning to the oldest of the teachers, who nodded her head.  “You are a papered woman, due to your research capabilities, and could not be forced to donate your breasts—nice D-cups they were too, Pamela.  Tell us your story.”  

“Well, there isn’t much to tell really,” Pamela said with a smile and a blush on her face.  “So many girls make partial donations these days that I was starting to feel out of the ordinary walking down the street with bumps on my chest.  I also felt guilty for not contributing food to society.  I began asking around, and heard about what a wonderful experience being debreasted is, especially at a debreasting booth nightclub.  I heard Final Fantasy was the best because of the many debreasting method choices.  One night I just did it…not for the orgasmatron-generated pleasure beams…although they were quite nice…I did it for the experience.  I didn’t know it…one of my male graduate students was at the nightclub that night.  He showed up at my booth window right after my options were set…he hit my debreast button…he popped my big balloons…with giant scissors…one breast at a time…on dead slow.  I had the biggest cum of my life…I still cum every time I think about that night!  It was…wonderful!”

“Thank you Doctor Dobson,” Bill said softly and calmly.  “I’m inventing new debreasting methods every month.  Still, during the high school field trip we did make a lot of debreasting demonstrations, so there isn’t any need to do such demonstrations today, is there?”

The Latino boy with the blonde girlfriend in front of him threw up his hand, and Miss Hunsaker asked, “Do you have a question, Roberto?”

“Not exactly, Miss Hunsaker,” Roberto replied.  “I just wanted to point out to Mr. Jennings that not all of us were on the high school field trip.  I’d like to see some debreastings, and it looked like most of the girls wouldn’t mind my seeing themselves debreasted.”

“That’s true, Roberto,” Bill Jennings replied, rubbing his chin.  “There is benefit to be gained from such demonstrations.  Are you offering up the C-cups you have your hands on for debreasting?”  Bill nodded to the blonde sitting in front of Roberto.

“No Sir!” Roberto replied quickly as the blonde before him blushed and shivered.  “I like Jill’s C-cups just where they are.”  Roberto nodded to a redhead sitting about fifteen feet to his right and said, “You stand up and walk over to Mr. Jennings and let him hack off those big DD’s, Marcia.  Those big melons will make nice plopping sounds as they land on the floor.  Move, girl!  You’ll use her in a demonstration won’t you, Mr. Jennings?”  Marcia stared back at Roberto with fear and disbelief evident on her face, and then looked to Mr. Jennings shaking her head to indicate what she thought of Roberto’s suggestion.

“Well, you are certainly within your rights as a male to order Marcia to make a partial conversion, here today, Roberto, and it would do much to help make one of the points I am trying to convey to help these girls prepare for life in our society,” Bill replied.  He looked thoughtful with a frown on his face, bringing a look of hope to Marcia’s, before adding, “However, I don’t think it would be right for me to use a girl only a year out of high school in a debreasting demonstration, unless she had seen an older girl be debreasted first.  I guess you’re out of luck, Roberto.”

“Perhaps not, Mr. Jennings,” Miss Hunsaker interjected.  “I note that most of my peers raised their hands to indicate they fantasized about being debreasted.  Let’s see how many of those ladies will step up and risk accepting a partial conversion to help these students become better prepared for life in a society that requires so many sacrifices from its women?” 

 

Chapter 11. The Lineup

 

            The students were buzzing with excitement as they watched all six of the breasted teachers who had raised their hands to indicate they had fantasies about being debreasted form a line in front of them, parallel to the wall to their right and the milk cows’ left.  Bill smiled when the line was finally formed, and said loudly, “Class, let’s give these brave and dedicated teachers a hand for agreeing to be part of a debreasting demonstration if selected to do so.”  The six teachers were obviously very nervous, and perhaps a little afraid, but managed weak smiles when the room erupted with applause.

            Bill turned to head teacher standing beside him and asked, “Miss Hunsaker, how many of the teachers who arrived with this field-trip class should be used to demonstrate debreasting methods?”  Bill gave the lineup of teachers a friendly smile as their nervous anticipation obviously increased as he asked his question.

            “These girls fantasize about losing their breasts, Mr. Jennings,” Miss Hunsaker said with a mischievous grin on her face.  “Let’s send only one of them home disappointed at not being selected and frustrated by the bumps they still carry on their chests.  Use five teachers to demonstrate debreasting techniques, and at least one student, naturally.”

            “Very well, Miss Hunsaker,” Bill replied wearing his own mischievous smile.  “Would you like to pick the girl from the lineup that will leave the room breasted?  Naturally she will be given more drink tickets for use at Final Fantasy, where she might end her frustration in one of my debreasting booths if she so desires.”

            Miss Hunsaker waited for the giggles and chuckles to end before she answered, saying, “No, Mr. Jennings, I’ll leave that choice to you.  I wouldn’t want to have one of my peers angry with me.”

            “Very well, Miss Hunsaker,” Bill said calmly as he stared at the lineup of six teachers shivering nervously, some wearing fear on their faces.  “Although I could pick a girl based on personal preferences, and may in fact do so, I’ll let the girls draw numbered cubes.  However, as one of the points we want to teach as part of this field trip, I should make it clear, I didn’t need to ask for volunteers.  As a male, I can use any girl in this room still wearing breasts as a sow in my demonstrations.”

            Bill watched as Cheryl moved to the end of the lineup nearest the entry door with her bucket full of numbered cubes, and he announced, “Girls, you are to draw numbers, one at a time, and do not reveal them until you are told to do so.  The girls who ultimately hold numbers one through five will be used in debreasting demonstrations in number order, with the methods becoming more complicated and discomfort levels increasing with each successive debreasting.  Distribute the cubes, Cheryl, and then bring me six lengths of twine.”

            Bill waited patiently as Cheryl made her way down the lineup, letting each girl pull a cube from the bucket held over her head, and then set the empty bucket on the floor where a seventh girl would have stood if there had been one.  She then hurried back to her counter to fetch the twine.  Bill stepped closer to the lineup and commanded, “Show us your numbers, girls.”  Bill smiled broadly as he heard groans of disappointment and fear-filled gasps. 

            Bill walked to the empty bucket and asked, “Will the girl holding the cube with a one on it please step down here and stand in front of me?”  As a lovely black girl stepped in front of him from the adjacent position, Bill gave her a friendly smile before inspecting her perfect brownish-tipped C-cups.  The girl’s areolae were very large, and as Bill tweaked her nipples he could see they were also large and obviously sensitive.  He reached down and ran the forefinger of his right hand through her labial lips under her bald pubic mound, noting her moistness.  He looked into the girl’s dark brown eyes, and could see nervous interest, but not a hint of fear.  “You’ll do,” Bill announced and then commanded, “turn around.”  The girl complied, and Bill quickly secured her wrists behind her with a length of twine handed to him by Cheryl, before allowing the girl to turn around again.

Bill stepped to his right to the new gap in the lineup and asked, “Will the girl holding the cube with a two on it please step down here and stand in front of me?”  As a pretty Oriental girl with perky, swooping B-cups stepped in front of him, Bill looked into her fear-filled almond eyes as he pinched her nipples.  The girl’s areolea were small, as were her nipples.  Bill reached down below her black landing strip and brought his right forefinger through her dry labial lips.  “Give me your cube, Miss, and then join the students,” Bill commanded, and watched as the girl smiled in relief and did as she was told.

“Will the girl who drew cube number three step over here and stand before me,” Bill asked softly.  A blue-eyed brunette with a fine-featured face and perfect brownish-pink-tipped D-cups quickly moved into position before Mr. Jennings.  Bill stared into the girl’s eyes as he cupped her breasts one at a time with his right hand and rotated his thumb around her erect nipples.  There was confusion on the girl’s face, and resignation as well.  As Bill inspected her clean-shaven vulva he could tell she was sexually excited.  “Give me your cube, Miss,” Bill commanded, and noted the increase in the girl’s look of confusion as she complied.  He handed the girl the cube with a two on it and said, “You’re now sow number two.  Turn around so I can tie you wrists, and then face forward again when I’m done,” Bill commanded as he took another length of twine from Cheryl.

His twine work done, Bill stepped to his right to stand in front of a chubby Latino with drooping C-cups who held a cube with a five on it, and commanded, “Fill the gap in the lineup between the two girls to your right.”  As the girl quickly did as she was ordered, Bill softly said, “Marcia, I’ll have to ask you to stand and take a position in front of me facing the wall.”  The student gasped with surprise and fear, but quickly did as she was told.  Soon her hands were tied behind her back, and her DD-cups facing her fellow students with her eyes filled with fear and remorse.

Bill stepped to his right to find that the brown-eyed blonde girl in front of him with perfect B-cups was holding cube number six in her hand.  “Trade places with whoever is holding cube number four,” Bill commanded, and smiled as she and the girl at the end of the line switched, meaning the girls were now in the right order.

Bill smiled at the blue-eyed redhead standing before him and felt up her swooping D-cups with his right hand, first the left and then the right breast, and then he stepped to the right and tugged on the nipples tipping the chubby Latino’s drooping C-cups one nipple at a time with his right hand.  “Give me your cube,” Bill commanded, and noted the disappointment in the dark-haired girl’s eyes as she complied.  Bill stepped back to his left, and watched the fear fill the redhead’s blue eyes, before instructing, “Give me your cube, girl, and then you two empty-handed girls may rejoin your students.”  As the redhead handed him her cube, and the two girls left the lineup, Bill noted the smile on the redhead’s face and the frown on the Latino’s.

Mr. Jennings turned and smiled at the two teachers who had raised their hands to indicate they had been on high school field trips to his dairy, but had not raised their hands to indicate they had fantasies about being debreasted.  He was sure they didn’t raise their hands because they knew that those admitting to having such fantasies would soon find themselves in the very lineup Bill was standing before. 

“You two fill the gaps, facing the wall!”  Bill ordered sternly.  “You are both going to help me teach your students another lesson.”  The two teachers gasped in surprise and trepidation, but quickly moved to fill the gaps.  Bill quickly tied both teachers’ wrists after placing a cube in each of their right hands, before saying, “You can turn around and face the class now.  Girls, the lesson these teachers are helping you learn is that, when a man asks you to volunteer to do something, you had best volunteer.  Not doing so is the quickest way to make sure something bad happens to you.  As this field trip is going to be quite interactive, I’m going to have several opportunities to learn if you students listened to what I just said!”

Bill stepped in front of the raven-haired Oriental girl standing next to Marcia and cupped her perfect pinkish-brown-tipped C-cups in the palm of his right hand, one at a time, as he stared into her light brown eyes and asked, “Tell me, Miss, truthfully, do you have fantasies about being debreasted?”  He watched as the girl’s eyes filled with tears and she nodded.  Bill watched as the girl’s nipples became turrets without any help from him, and nodded back, saying, “I thought so.  That fantasy is likely to become a reality.  You are sow number three!”  Bill watched as the girl struggled to put a smile on her pretty face as her eyes filled with acquiescence, and stepped to his right.

Bill lifted a green-eyed redhead’s left perfect brownish-pink-tipped D-cup in his right hand as if to gauge the breast’s weight.  He noted that the girl’s nipples were already erect on her silver-dollar-sized areolae, and that her clean-shaven vulva and inner thighs glistened with moistness.  “You’re sow number four, Miss,” Mr. Jennings announced.  “Judging from the cum covering your inner thighs, I don’t think I have to ask, but I will anyhow.  Same question, Miss!”

“Yes, Mr. Jennings, I fantasize about being debreasted all the time,” the redhead replied.  “As a matter-of-fact, I’ve played the debreasting booth game with my friends at Final Fantasy three times now.  I didn’t raise my hand because my friends and I were going to go party there tonight.  I did climax when I realized I was about to lose the assets that allow me to play the booth game.  I just hope whatever demonstration I’m part of today is just as exciting as a booth game, and I wouldn’t mind it if an orgasmatron emitter is involved.”

“Thank you for being honest, Miss,” Bill replied softly.  “You’ll be happy to know three things about the demonstration I have planned for you:  it will be very exciting, an orgasmatron emitter will play a crucial role in the demonstration, and the demonstration may end with you retaining those assets that allow you to play my booth game.”  Bill watched as a smile filled the redhead’s face.         

            Bill stepped to the right to stand before the sultry blonde holding the cube with a six on it, and asked, “Tell me truthfully, Miss, were you relieved or disappointed to find that you had drawn cube number six?”  Bill reached up with his right hand and began gently tugging and twisting the girl’s nipples.

            As the girl’s nipples hardened, she replied in a quaking voice, “I was relieved, Sir.  I do fantasize about being debreasted, and I believe someday I will want that to happen to me.  However, I would like to keep these chest ornaments where they are for just a bit longer.”  The girl stared into Bill’s grey eyes with hope in her own brown eyes.

            “Miss Hunsaker, could you step over here for a moment please?” Bill asked softly.  “I need your input on whether we need to debreast this final teacher, leave it at just four, or find another alternative.  This girl did pull the cube with a six on it fair and square, after all.”  Bill stepped to his left to make room for the head teacher.

            Judy Hunsaker strode purposefully to stand in front of the blonde, and lifted a B-cup in each of her hands, before replying, “Fair isn’t a word that can often be applied to a girl in our society, Mr. Jennings.  That is a lesson these students need to learn.  Give this girl her fantasy today.  She will likely find that she won’t miss these B-cups at all.”  Judy smiled as fear filled the blonde’s pretty face and the girl began shaking badly.

            “Yes, I may come to agree with your sentiment, Miss Hunsaker,” Bill said softly and calmly.  “Tell me, truthfully, did leave your hands at your sides when I asked which girls fantasized about being debreasted because you knew this lineup was coming?”

            “No, Mr. Jennings,” Judy Hunsaker said in a cool calm tone, “I did not leave my hands down because, having led this field trip on several occasions before today, I knew those having debreasting fantasies would be in a lineup with their tits at risk.  I didn’t raise my hand because I don’t fantasize about being debreasted; I have nightmares about it.  I’m to be married next month—losing my breasts would cost me my chance to become a papered woman.”

            “Yes, it would be most unfair for someone to pouch those huge breasts of yours just before they became vouchsafed through marriage, Miss Hunsaker,” Bill replied with a twinkle in his eyes.  “I can see why you would have nightmares about that happening.  However, those nightmares will be over soon, and perhaps will become fantasies when you no longer have to worry about losing your breasts.  Here, I have something for you, Miss Hunsaker.”

            Judy Hunsaker turned to face Bill Jennings as he handed her something.  She looked down to find the cube with a five on it in her hand.  She looked up to stare at the man with horror filling her face as he pronounced, “You are the fifth and final teacher to be in a debreasting demonstration today, Miss Hunsaker.  I trust you’ll continue to do your duties as head teacher with full professionalism in spite of the worries that lie ahead.  Cross your wrists behind your back, Miss Hunsaker!”

            Bill quickly tied the shivering blonde bombshell’s hands behind her back as he looked up to the smaller breasted blonde holding the cube with a number six on it.  “Give your cube to my assistant, Miss, and then rejoin the students.”  As Bill pushed Miss Hunsaker into the vacated position at the end of the lineup and examined the sows, he announced loudly with a chuckle in his voice, “We are in for a treat, boys and girls!  Six sets of perfect breasts to work with, and nothing smaller than a C-cup.  This is going to be a busy afternoon, as I wager I’ll collect more than one set of students’ breasts as well.  We better get started!  Collect the rest of the cubes Cheryl, while I fetch the first piece of equipment.  Oh, and issue more drink tickets to the rest of the breasted teachers as a reward for their standing in the lineup.”  Bill hurried away to fetch what he needed for the first demonstration.

 

Chapter 12. The Butcher’s Way

           

            Bill had moved a small table, the table on which the syringes containing the lactation-inducing drugs had been placed at beginning of the heroines’ visit to the dairy, in front of the students and before the lineup of debreasting demonstrators.  Now resting on the table, on the side nearest the lineup, was an automatic meat slicer of the type used by butchers.  The electric power cord for the slicer was plugged into a floor socket.  Sitting on either side of the table were adjustable-height stools.

            Bill, standing behind the table on the side nearest the students, looked at the pretty black girl who had drawn the cube with a one on it and said calmly in his friendliest tone, “Step forward and stand behind the other side of the table, Miss.  Then go ahead and tell us your name, what subject you teach at the University, and your age, please.”

            “Yes Sir!” the girl replied and then quickly moved over to stand behind the table and stare with obvious trepidation at the instrument that was, evidently, about to take off her breasts.  She suddenly seemed to realize everyone was watching and waiting, and stammered, “My name is…Latosha…Latosha Grier…and I teach…graphics design.  I’m…23…Sir.”

            “Thank you, Miss Grier,” Mr. Jennings said softly.  “What a pretty name Latosha is.  We will let you take a seat momentarily, but first I need to explain some things to the students.  In the meantime, don’t you worry one bit about what we are about to do together.  You’ll be fine and back with your students very soon.”

            “Boys and girls, those of you that were on the high school field trip will remember that I start out by demonstrating what it is like to make a partial donation to a store or butcher shop,” Bill said with a smile as he faced the class.  “Remember that a girl donating her breasts to the worldwide food chain at the hands of a butcher is usually doing so to earn a little money, although sometimes it might be the result of losing a bet with a friend.  For the high school field trip, I employ one of the tools most commonly used by a butcher, the cutting board, because it is the first time most of the girls will have witnessed a debreasting.  The cutting board is a relatively fast method to remove a set of breasts, and most girls manage the pain well.”

            Bill pointed to the meat slicer on the table, and said calmly, “Automatic meat slicers like this one here are one of the other common tools that a butcher uses to harvest a girl’s breast bacon.  Obviously, having your breasts taken off in slices is going to be much more painful than the cutting board, and, depending on the slice-thickness setting, can take quite some time to complete.  However, I am told that having your breasts removed in this fashion is actually quite a sensual, perhaps even erotic, experience, and so I do have a meat slicer option installed in my booths at Final Fantasy.  Obviously, at Final Fantasy the girl having her breasts slowly sliced off is going to get a very high orgasmatron beam setting.” 

Bill turned back to the young girl with short, curly, black hair, and fear-filled brown eyes and said in his most apologetic voice, “Sorry, Miss Grier, this is a butcher shop scenario demonstration, and they don’t employ pleasure beams to induce the donations—just money, and not much of it I’m afraid.  Would you take a seat on the stool now please?”

 

Latosha fidgeted for a few seconds, trying to think of what to do.  Then, realizing she really didn’t have any other choice, stammered, “Yes…Mr. Jennings…Sir!”  She quickly plunked her behind down on the stool, and watched with obvious concern as the dairy owner walked around the table to stand behind her.  She felt the man’s hand on her back, urging her to lean forward until her rib cage pushed against the edge of the meat slicer’s tray, which was aligned with the edge of the table.  Then she watched as Mr. Jennings opened a drawer in the side of the table and pulled out a small belt-like strap with a buckle at one end.  Her eyes widened with fear as she watched the man thread the strap through a bracket attached to the table edge to the right of her chest, felt him draw the strap behind her back, and watched him thread the strap through a twin bracket to the left of her chest.  She heard him thread the strap end through buckle and the gasped as he pulled the strap tight, securing her tightly to the table edge.

“I’m just going to lower your stool a little, to pillow your breasts nicely on the meat tray, Miss Grier,” Latosha heard the man say in a calm and friendly voice behind her.  “This might cause an unpleasant sensation as your ribs rub against the table edge,” she heard him warn.  Then he adjusted a knob on the stool’s central pillar, and she slowly felt herself lowering until her breasts began to get pushed upward.  “I think that position is going to get as much bacon as possible over the meat tray,” She heard the man say behind her with obvious satisfaction, and then watched him walk around to take a seat on the stool across from her.

Latosha smiled nervously back as she watched the man flash a friendly smile at her, but then her smile became a frown as she watched him reach out and turn on the automatic meat slicer.  Horror filled her eyes as she watched the eight-inch vertical circular blade oriented parallel to the edge of the meat tray start spinning rapidly with a quiet humming sound.  The blade looked as if it should be rubbing on the meat tray below it, but from the sound, she knew it, by a molecule’s thickness, wasn’t.  It took several seconds to realize that the blade, that was about a foot away from the tips of her breasts, wasn’t advancing.  Evidently, Mr. Jennings was watching her face as she stared at the blade, for when this realization set in he asked in a soft calm, voice, “What thickness would you like your breast bacon to be sliced into, Miss Grier?  There are a number of settings ranging from one-sixteenth of an inch to one-half inch.  Obviously, the thinner the slices, the longer you will be sitting on that stool.”

Latosha shivered in terror—more at having to make the decision than at the prospect of the pain and loss she was about to feel.  She thought, ‘Look girl...you’re only going to have this debreasting experience once…and that’s a reason to make it a memorable one…and savor the event for as long as possible.  However…I got the feeling…this is going to hurt…hurt like hell!’  She quietly calculated that on the half-inch setting, she would be accepting ten to fourteen double cuts, and thought that was quite enough cuts to have in her memory.  Latosha heard herself reply in a cracking voice, “I’ll take…the half-inch…setting, Sir!  I want…my butt…off of…this stool…as soon…as possible.”

Latosha issued a slow moan of fearful anticipation as she heard Mr. Jennings calmly reply, “Very well, Miss Grier,” and then watched him reach for a dial on the back of the humming machines control switch.  Suddenly, the spinning blade began quickly sliding to the left across the meat tray, was pulled a half inch forward, closer to the trapped and targeted breast tips that were her own, and began a journey towards the right side of the meat tray.  If Latosha could have pulled her eyes off of the spinning circular blade, she would have seen a grin on Bill Jennings face—not because he was looking at a girl about ready to receive pain, but because the fear had left the girl’s eyes to be replaced with, once again, interest, and, yes, anticipation.  Latosha didn’t even notice as Bill Jennings stood and moved behind and to the right of the trapped girl so that he wouldn’t block anyone’s view.

Latosha watched slack jawed with her eyes wide open and glued to the moving blade as if hypnotized as it made a half dozen passes back and forth across the meat tray.   She could swear her nipples were growing ever more turgid, as if yearning for the blades bite.  Soon the meat slicing blade was half way to her nipples, and she knew she would feel pain in eleven or twelve more to-and-fros across the meat tray.  A half dozen more horizontal passes this way and that and she heard herself suddenly sigh loudly.  “Oh FUCK!  I just climaxed!” she screamed, and then yelled, “Oh, SHIT!” in mid orgasm as she felt wind on her left nipple as the rapidly spinning blade moved to her right.  She held her breath, regretting that she couldn’t focus on her pleasure-filled sex, because she knew that if her right breast was larger than her left, or if her right nipple had swollen more erect with her orgasm, she was about to feel pain. 

Latosha was almost certain that she had felt cold steel on the tip of her right nipple when the spinning meat saw reached it, but when the blade passed, she couldn’t see any wound.  She didn’t have the time or reason to feel relieved—the blade was already traveling back to her left, and the girl knew she was about to lose most of her right nipple.  Latosha sighed in orgasm again, and then shrilled in agony!  A second later the shrill rose in pitch as she received the signal from her left breast that said most of her left nipple was lying decapitated on the meat tray, just as she could see most of her right nipple was.  Latosha heard her voice scream, “GOD DANM! That hurts so good!”  She held her breath, the spinning blade was moving back to her right, and about to remove part of her left areola along with the rest of her left nipple—then the blade blocked her view, and the bite of pain told her it had.  Her right nipple and part of her right areola were soon history as well.

A few seconds later, and a mere two back-and-forth passes of the meat slicer accompanied by four pain-filled grunts, and Latosha’s areolae were gone and forming the beginnings of a forward leaning stack of breast bacon.  To the girl’s surprise, she was adapting to the intermittent bursts of agony that rose above the ever-present burning pain that screamed of the destruction of her tender boobs.  If she could have seen her own face, she would have been appalled—her eyes were filled with fascination, and her face wore a silly grin.  As the blade made eight more to-and-fros across the meat tray, and the rest of Latosha’s breast bacon formed a pile on the tray, she hardly winced in pain.  With the final pass, as she felt air on her rib cage, Latosha sighed in climax a third time—this time, the orgasm seemed to go on forever, even though she could see circular wounds where breasts once protruded as the blade came to a halt at the end of its last leftward pass.       

 

Bill quickly stepped forward, unbuckled the strap behind Latosha’s back and pulled the strap through the left bracket to free the teacher.  He carefully helped her off the stool and moved her to the right side of the table so that Cheryl could go to work cleaning Latosha’s chest wounds, and wiping the blood from her rib cage and belly.  Soon, Cheryl had Latosha’s wounds covered with circular white bandages that worked well at taking away her pain, and was untying the black girl’s hands.

Bill pointed to the two piles of thickly cut breast bacon on the meat tray and said softly, “Miss Grier, there is your donation to the worldwide food chain.  Did you enjoy making it?”

“Well, Mr. Jennings,” Latosha began, surprised at how calm her voice sounded, “that hurt like hell, so enjoy might not be the right word.  However, obviously, I found the experience to be most erotic.  I think I would have loved to have done it over an orgasmatron beam emitter!”

“Yes, Miss Grier, I’m sure you would have,” Bill said with a chuckle.  “I honestly believe that drawing the cube with a one on it is the worst luck a girl in these lineups can have.”

“Now, you tell me!” Latosha chirped.  “Oh well!  It’s no use worrying about spilt milk…or sliced bacon.  At least I get to watch the rest of the demonstrations from the audience.”  Latosha looked over to the blue-eyed brunette standing in position number two and grinned as she called out, “Yo, Tabatha, I think you’re up.  I hope Mr. Jennings has some real fun planned for those big D-cups of yours!”  Latosha hurried off to find a seat.

 

Chapter 13. The Penalty for Failing the Class

 

            “Hold your place for the moment, Miss…Tabatha is it?” Bill called out quickly, and then turned to the frowning Miss Hunsaker at the other end of the lineup.  “Miss Hunsaker, are there any students in need of special recognition this semester?”  Meanwhile, Cheryl was hauling the meat cutter, meat tray, and Latosha’s bacon cuts to her counter.

            “Yes, Mr. Jennings, there are,” Judy replied emotionlessly, wearing a deep frown.  “Will Ashley Bennett, Paula Cole, and Mariah Gomez step forward to stand behind this table facing your classmates?”  Judy waited until the white, black, and Latino girl, respectively, took their required positions, before continuing, “You three girls have managed to accomplish something that none of your classmates will ever be able to match—you three have managed to earn failing grades in this semester’s women’s life-preparation class.  The penalty for failure to pass the class on your first attempt is forced partial conversion through donation of your breasts as one of this field trip’s demonstrations.  If you choose to remain at the university and take the class again, you should know a second failure would mean having an involuntary full conversion forced upon you.  Mr. Jennings, I leave these girls’ punishments in your capable hands.”

            “Thank you, Miss Hunsaker,” Bill said retaining his friendly smile as he watched Cheryl push the table back to its original position.  “I’ll start out by seeing what we have to work with.”  Bill began by examining Ashley’s perfect pinkish brown-tipped D-cups. Bill noted that her nipples were hard, and as he glanced up to the brunette’s face he could see she was wearing a sheepish grin and regret in her blue eyes.  As Bill knelt and inspected her clean-shaven sex he could see her meaty labial lips were moist with excitement, and her large clitoris was quite swollen. 

            Bill stepped to his right and began tugging on the already erect turrets of Paula’s swooping B-cups.  As Bill looked up from the girl’s unusually small brownish areolea, he could see a nervous frown on the girl’s rather plain face under black curls and remorse in her dark brown eyes.  Dropping down to his knees, Bill found himself looking at a hairless vulva that had unusually thin, dry labial lips, and what appeared to be a hooded clitoris.

            Standing, and stepping to his right, Bill began lifting Mariah’s drooping C-cups, noticing that there was no sign of hardening of the girl’s nipples on her over-average-sized brownish areolae.  Her brown-eyed face below her raven hair gave no indication she knew or cared about what was going to happen to her.  As Bill inspected her hairless vulva, he thought it small in size, probably good for sex, but with thin labial lips. 

As Cheryl unplugged and wheeled the cabinet-looking device, which had the form of a low upside-down U, from its position down the counter-side wall, Bill walked behind each girl and, beginning with Mariah and ending with Ashley, forced his middle finger into their anuses up to his knuckle.  His inspection done, Bill went to work helping Cheryl set up the device.  Minutes later, Cheryl handed Bill six variously-sized, heavy-duty rubber bands and then re-plugged in the device before returning to her counter.

Bill sorted through the rubber bands to get them in pairs according to size, and laid them out on the cabinet before each girl.  Then, beginning with Ashley, he slipped one rubber band over each breast, forcing the bands all the way back to the bases of the boobs until they were against the girls’ chests.  Finally finished, Bill checked to make sure all the girls’ chests had twin balls of flesh on them, the size of the ball varying with cup size, naturally.  Bill then tied each girl’s wrists behind her back with twine, followed by tying each girl’s elbows together to make the girls’ breasts jut out nicely from their chests.

Bill returned to the other side of the odd-shaped cabinet and removed six circular disks from the upper surface of the center of the inverted U, revealing six holes, spaced, naturally, to accommodate three sets of breasts.  Bill looked up at the three girls and commanded, “Bend over girls, breasts in the holes, chests flat against the cabinet surface!”  Bill smiled as the girls accommodated immediately.

Bill began making adjustments with each pair of holes, explaining, “Boys and girls, this is a very special machine, the purpose of which I will explain momentarily.  What I’m doing now is making slight adjustments in the spacing between each set of holes to get all six breasts centered in its own hole.  Then atop each hole is a little handle, which I can pull in a circle around each breast.  This causes an iris-like diaphragm to open or close…oh…sorry Ashley…got pinched did we…later you’ll appreciate the pinch.  Where was I?  Yes, just let me finish closing all the diaphragms. There!”

“Well, I’ll bet you are all wondering what this device is,” Bill said really ready to lecture now.  “While I’m talking I’m going to strap down each girl with belts over her lower and upper backs, even though the diaphragms are most likely tight enough to keep the girls in place.  Notice that the upper rectangle of the upside down U has a metal bottom, transparent glass on the long sides, metal with plumbing and pumping components on the short sides, and a ceramic top.  Look at those six breasts jiggling through the glass—you girls’ heads are far enough forward so that you can see the breasts too, can’t you, including your own!  There, all done with the straps.”

“Where was I?” Bill asked facetiously.  “Oh yes! The upper rectangle is completely liquid-proof and won’t leak.  The glass sides are for your entertainment, and the ceramic top will not conduct heat for these girls’ safety.  The rectangles, the sides of the inverted U, on each side of the upper rectangle are filled with fully heated cooking oil, just enough to completely fill the upper rectangle.  This is the type of device you find at some restaurants these days—if a customer wants to watch his food prepared at his table side he can.  In this case we may be talking about deep-fried breasts!”

Bill looked over to the three strapped down girls, to find all three of them sobbing in terror.  “Easy girls,” Bill said softly, “the heat cauterizes the nerves relatively quickly so the agony eases a bit in a few seconds, and, at the temperature the oil has been heated to, you’ll be set free in about three minutes…make that five minutes.”  Bill smiled to Cheryl for having him make the duration adjustment, and he quickly set the timer on the machine accordingly.

The timer set, Bill looked up at the girls, beginning with Mariah, then Paula, and finally Ashley, as he went on with, “Remember, I said we may be talking about deep-fried breasts.  That’s because I’m about to go around to the other side of the cabinet and begin having sex with Ashley.  If she can avoid cumming for ten minutes, I’ll convince Miss Hunsaker to change all three of your grades to D minuses, in exchange for foregoing our final debreasting demonstration, of course.”  Bill looked up from Ashley’s terrified face to find Judy Hunsaker nodding vigorously.  Bill smiled.  If he knew his girls, he was just winding the big-breasted teacher up!     

 

Sue watched as Bill Jennings unzipped his suit pants, pulled out his ample manhood, and dropped to his knees to perform cunnilingus on Ashley for thirty seconds, before rising to slide his hard penis into the girl’s vagina and begin slowly humping into her sex.  “You know, girls,” Sue whispered, “I think our friend Bill has a bit of a mean streak in him!”

“You’re just figuring that out, Sue?” Zatanna asked in astonishment.  “You do know that if one of us gets forced into one of those Final Fantasy lotteries, and our number comes up, he’ll kill us just like he did your friend Bonita.”

“Well, we will just have to hope we don’t get forced into anymore of those lotteries,” Wanda whispered softly, “or that, if we do, there are already two long pigs over his barbecue pits so that whichever of us got unlucky just gets, hopefully temporarily, nullified.  I think Bill is a kind and fair man, for the century he was raised in, but this culture makes the men hard on girls.”

“I agree with Wanda,” Janet whispered with a giggle, “which means the Zatanna’s point is dead on.  If one of us loses a lottery, fairness demands the heroine pays the penalty, and Bill won’t look for a reason to reduce that penalty.  No more volunteering for lotteries, right?”  Janet grinned as all three of her friends nodded as they watched Bill and Ashley.

 

Ashley moaned softly as she felt the tongue and lips at her sex.  She felt the tongue slide up and down between her labial lips several times and then start circling her sensitive clitoris.  The man suckled gently on her clitoris for a brief second, and then returned to circling it with his tongue before standing and slowly easing his long, thick manhood into her vagina.  As the man began to slowly have intercourse with her, Ashley lowered her head and looked through the glass at her own turreted tits, thinking, ‘Sorry, boobies, you’re about to get cooked.  The way I’m already juicing, I’ll cum within three minutes not ten!  I flunked orgasm aversion techniques in high school as well, so I guess I have this coming to me.’

Ashley’s moans grew louder as Mr. Jennings picked up the pace of his thrusting, and she watched the man’s assistant walk to the front center of the machine and begin fingering a small switch.  Ashley knew it was the switch that would start the pumping of the hot cooking oil from the two side containers into the central container within which dangled six live breasts, including her own, and thought it a bit unfair of the blonde to increase the threat level while a man strove to rip a climax from her loins.  As the heat in her sex increased, she watched her nipples swell, as if eager to bathe in hot oil.

Ashley gasped as the man behind her added rotation to his thrusting motions, and she felt herself plunging towards orgasm.  She thought, ‘Oh GOD!  I’m sopping wet and my cunt is burning with the need for release.  I can’t hold out!’  She glanced to her left to find the two other girls staring at her in horror, and rasped, “Sorry, I just have to…I’m going to…NOOooooo!  I’m CUMMINGGgggg!” 

Ashley heard Cheryl flip the switch followed by the sound of activated pumps, and felt Mr. Jennings pull out of her vagina and ruthlessly plunge his thick manhood past her tight anus into her rectum.  She threw her head back and screamed in pain, but her scream didn’t cover up the glugging sound made by liquid flowing upward from the containers beside herself and her two peers. She threw her head down to see the rapidly rising liquid through the glass.  She heard gasps from the students in the audience, and mews from the girls beside her.  Then she heard a shrill of agony, and realized it was from her throat—her breasts being the largest of the three sets, the searing hot oil had reached her nipples first.  She heard the man behind her moan with pleasure as her anus began to spasm, choking around his penis.

Ashley heard the other girls shrill in agony, and heard herself cry out, “NOOooo! GOD NNnnnooooo!  Please let me up!”  She looked down to see the container now completely full of cooking oil, and that her and her peers’ breasts were fully immersed in the boiling liquid.  She watched as her breasts began to redden, and appeared to sweat fat.  She watched as the red became tinged with brown, and as Mr. Jennings had promised, the agony became slightly less intense.  She felt the man behind her spewing hot cum into her anus, and then lay exhausted atop her body leaving his spent manhood within her butt.  She watched, bawling and shrieking in pain, along with her peers, as her breasts became a light brown. 

Ashley suddenly noticed the smell that was permeating the room and thought, ‘Good grief, that’s making me hungry, and my deep-fried breasts are part of that smell.’  “How much longer?” she shrilled. 

“Hold yourself together, Ashley,” she heard Mr. Jennings reply, “I think there is only a minute or so left.”

Ashley sobbed softly between gasps of pain as she stared at her breasts, through the glass, frying in oil.  She thought, ‘I’m browning nicely, now.  I wonder if they’ll let us taste the breasts, seeing as they’re going to be freshly cooked?  What a silly thought!  I must be delirious!  If only I had studied, rather than partied, the night before the final.’  Then she noticed her breasts were a nice golden brown and hardly hurt at all, and the timer on the machine went, ‘Ding!’  She felt Mr. Jennings finally pull out of her butt and move to the front of the inverted-U-shaped cabinet, from which she now heard draining sounds.  She watched as Mr. Jennings grabbed a handle on the top front corner of the ceramic top on Mariah’s side, and had an epiphany that the handle was attached to a long blade just below the surface of the ceramic top.  Sure enough, as the man dragged the handle from Mariah’s side to her side, lump after lump of deep-fried breast bacon dropped into the rapidly receding cooking oil.

Ashley waited patiently as Mr. Jennings undid the six straps, now the only things holding the girls down.  Then she watched as the man peeled the remaining bits of elastic band material from Mariah’s chest, so that his assistant could wipe her bloodless wounds down and apply the commensurate two circular bandages.  She waited patiently as the pair took care of Paula, and then finally moved to begin working on her.  When the bandages had been applied to her chest and the assistant was untying her elbows and hands, Ashley nodded to the lumps of meat in the cooking tank that had been her breasts and said, “We sure smell good.  Any chance of tasting ourselves, Mr. Jennings?”

Bill Jennings roared with laughter, as Cheryl handed Ashley a washcloth and pointed to the ejaculate leaking down the back of her thighs, and replied, “That’s just meat!  It’s not you anymore.  However, yes, my head waitress, Cheryl here, will net the lumps out of the cooking oil and take them back to the counter momentarily.  She’ll slice them up into small chunks, and you three can have first choice before the rest of the field-trip attendants dig in.”

Bill turned to the class and announced, “Boys and girls, we are going to take another ten minute break while I fetch some equipment for the next demonstration.  There will be some finger food at the counter shortly.  Don’t be greedy—one piece of deep-fried bacon each for as long as the supply lasts and only after these three breastless girls have taken theirs.  For those of you that like older women, don’t forget there are four mouths available for use in the first row of milking stalls.  Also, you girls are welcome to examine Jessica!”  Bill walked away from the audience laughing, while Cheryl wheeled the inverted-U-shaped cabinet back to its original position before looking for some meat tongs.

   

Chapter 14. Difficult Decisions

 

Wanda looked out to the area in front of Cheryl’s counter and watched the three girls who had failed the women’s life-preparation class giggle happily as they as they passed out small pieces of their own deep-fried breast meat to their classmates from trays they held like table waitresses.  The freshly debreasted girls’ faces beamed with pride at every compliment regarding the taste of the fatty delicacies.  The auburn-haired heroine twisted her head hard to the left, and watched the group of girls chattering excitedly before the Jessica machine.  They seemed to be trying to goad a small-breasted blonde into mounting the spitting machine.  Wanda twisted her head to the right and watched as Bill Jennings worked to modify the machinery within the box-like frame.  Evidently, at least one of the forthcoming debreasting demonstrations would involve a girl strapped to the front of the frame, but this time the girl would not lose her breasts to slowly tightening razor-wire loops. 

Wanda glanced to the transparent milk-storage container to her right and noted that there were nearly five liters of fluid from her mammary glands in it, and announced softly, “Well girls, I think it’s time to resolve the primary issue that has been causing some of us a bit of concern—our own cavalier attitudes regarding debreastings, especially our own debreastings, that have led us to play the debreasting booth games far differently from most of the girls from this century.  The four of us have played the game hoping for the pain and destruction that accompanies a debreasting, due to the fact that we know the Chula tissue regenerator is waiting to repair the damage when we get back to our own time, rather than trying to leave the booth intact after having a nice orgasmatron-beam-induced climax as a reward for risking our bosoms.  We better address this issue now, for I’m not sure how much longer the four of us will remain together in these milking stalls!”

Janet groaned softly as Wanda finished speaking.  Although she doubted her big-breasted friend could see the slowly diminishing squirts from her nipples as the milkers worked her C-cups, the spunky heroine did not doubt that Wanda was predicting Janet was about to run dry.  Mrs. Van Dyne was wondering if any of the other girls were struggling to continue lactating when she saw the tall, bearded blonde boy she had performed fellatio on earlier step before their stalls, still wearing a friendly smile on his face.  Janet chortled, “Hey there, handsome, are you here for seconds?  I was wondering if we were going to be able to gossip through this entire break.”

“Yes, Miss…I’m sorry…I didn’t catch your name,” the boy replied with excitement filling his blue eyes, “you did such a good job earlier, I thought I would give one of your friend’s mouth a try.  My name is Phillip, by the way.  When it comes to great head, which of your three friends do you recommend?”

“I’m Janet, Phillip, and I’m glad you enjoyed my efforts earlier,” Janet said as she giggled happily.  “My three friends have all had plenty of practice with their oral skills, and I bet when the other boys hear you moaning up here, there won’t be any empty mouth among us.  The blonde next to me is Sue, and the dark-haired girl at the far end of the row of milking stalls is Zatanna.  As far as recommending a mouth for you to plunder with that massive manhood of yours, Phillip, I’m going to recommend Wanda.  They say she has a second G-spot deep in her throat and can be made to climax if a man forces her to deep throat him long enough!”

Phillip laughed loudly at the look of consternation that filled the lovely face of the auburn-haired beauty between Sue and Zatanna, and quipped, “Then I’ll make this big-titted cow cum, if you’re not jesting, Janet!  However, I doubt any of the other guys will join us this time.  Those who don’t already have a squeeze to take care of their carnal needs will be waiting for one or more of you to run dry so that they can try to make you carry their piglet.  Many of my friends haven’t had their cocks in a pussy since their girlfriends were taken off birth control at the end of high school.  I would most likely be holding out for a chance to add a sow-to-be to the local Orphanage myself, if I wasn’t already married and raising girl meat of my own.” 

Phillip roared with laughter as all four heroines blushed beet red and shivered uncomfortably at his blatant reminder that females were, in the end, nothing more than food in this century.  The blonde boy unbuckled his belt, unzipped, and dropped his trousers, before commanding, “Open up, Wanda!  I want to feel your mouth on my dick, but only for a short while before you take my cock head deep into your throat.”  

            Wanda licked her lips as she stared at the turgid, ten-inch-long, one-and-a-half-inch-thick penis bobbing before her face.  She chortled sardonically, “Thanks loads, Janet!  I’ll bet I can get him off faster than you did, and then I’ll get to watch the boys try to big you when you get sent out in front of the stalls!”  Wanda laughed as Janet frowned, and then pushed her mouth over the bulbous head of Phillip’s phallus.  The big-breasted heroine didn’t enjoy fellating a stranger, and would have tried to avoid being forced into such a position given the chance, but, seeing no way to avoid the inevitable, she gave the manhood in her mouth her most avid attention.  Soon Phillip was moaning in pleasure to the rhythmic sounds of sucking and slurping. 

“Good God!  Where do you girls come from?  I’ve never met two girls who knew how to suck so well!” Phillip exclaimed loudly, wearing a silly grin on his face as his huge testicles bounced repeatedly off of Wanda’s chin.  He moaned softly in pleasure as Wanda pumped her head upward and downward over his shaft, gradually pushing more and more of his member into her throat.  When the auburn-haired beauty’s forehead began banging against his belly as she took his entire shaft into her mouth, he gasped loudly—now the girl was corkscrewing her mouth and throat around his glans and shaft!  His eyes rolled back as he took in the pleasure.  This girl was amazing!  He wondered how she could possibly have finished her guy last earlier!

Wanda grinned as she heard gasps of pleasure coming from above her, and felt the manhood in her mouth begin to swell.  She thought, ‘Jeese!  This is too damn easy!’, and began swallowing around the shaft in her throat.  She was immediately rewarded with a flood of warm semen as the penis lodged in her esophagus released its load.  Soon, Phillip, more than a little embarrassed about cumming so quickly, pulled his manhood out of her mouth and Wanda quipped, “Not even close to forcing a climax from my throat’s G-spot, Phillip, but I did enjoy my protein shake!  Thanks for the meal!”  Wanda continued chuckling as Phillip hurried away, hoping there might still be a chunk of deep-fried breast meat left for him to sample.

“Wanda, you are such an evil witch!” Janet spat with a silly grin on her face.  “I don’t think poor Phillip knew what hit him!  Now, what was it you wanted to say before we were so rudely interrupted?”

“I was talking about readjusting our attitudes towards our stints in the debreasting booths…well debreasting in general really…from our Chula-technology-tainted positions to a more 41st Century-normal position…at least outwardly” Wanda said softly with a look of hope on her face.  “As Zatanna pointed out, most of the girls visiting Final Fantasy only do one booth stint, to get the free drinks and one nice climax, and implement the best strategies they can think of to leave the booth in the same condition they entered it!  I’m willing to outwardly adopt that strategy if we adopt a higher risk factor.  Let’s follow that college sorority Gamma Gamma Epsilon’s precedent and require our debreasting club members and initiates to do three stints in a booth each night we visit Final Fantasy, but also limit the number of booth stints to a three-per-night maximum and implement strategies designed to not get our debreasting buttons slapped.”

“Wanda, do you really think your D-cups…well any of our balloons, really…are ever going to make it through three booth stints in one night unpopped?” Sue asked softly with a serious look on her face.  “I really don’t see how only outwardly changing what our positions on being debreasted SEEM to be changes anything.  Are we not in reality still trying to heap pain and destruction on our bosoms?  How does that repair that mindset that some of us find irrational to the point of making me, at least, uncomfortable?”

“Sue is right, Wanda!” Zatanna spat quickly.  “You’re trying to pretend to make things right without changing anything at all.  You must think we’re daft if you believe there is any real chance of any of us escaping three booth stints with our busts intact.  Someday, one or more of us will pay a price for that…when those alien nanogenes fail to regenerate our ruined tits!”

“That day may never come, Zatanna,” Wanda rasped softly, blushing in embarrassment.  “However, if it does, we will survive, just as the dozens of girls from this century we’ve already watched get debreasted survive.  I’m trying to reach a compromise here…a compromise that will allow us to keep coming here…to keep playing the booth game…without feeling mentally ill for enjoying doing so.  I can’t change or hide the fact that I, at least, enjoy putting my moneymakers at risk.  I don’t enjoy the pain that accompanies losing my breasts!  I don’t enjoy watching my friends go through the agony of being debreasted!  That said…I do find watching a girl getting her balloons popped…entertaining…especially when the balloons belong to my friends!  I know what I just said is irrational…but it is what it is!”

As Zatanna opened her mouth to reply, Janet quickly interjected, “Lighten up girls!  You can’t fault Wanda for being honest.  Actually, if we are all equally honest, we have to admit to similar viewpoints.  Who here hasn’t found the debreasting demonstrations today to be worth the degradation of being turned into a human milk cow?  Who here hasn’t cheered loudly the moment Wanda’s tits got turned into bacon?  Who here is actually not going to do at least one more booth stint?”

“Of course you’re right, Janet!” Sue sighed softly with obvious disappointment in her voice.  “We are all going to do booth stints Friday night.  I, and evidently Zatanna as well, just want to feel like we are trying to win the game instead of trying to lose.  We are heroines!  We can’t allow ourselves to get used to losing, or one day we may lose when innocent lives are at stake!”

“Maybe what we need to do is make sure there is an additional reason for trying to win the game, in view of the fact that the Chula nanogene tissue regenerator removes the obvious penalty for losing the game,” Zatanna interjected with a look of confusion on her face.  “Something like, if one or more of us wins and keeps our chests intact, those of us that lose have to enter the nightly lottery on our next girls’ night out.  Well, actually, something a little less potentially fatal but equally unpleasant.”  Zatanna smiled as the other heroines laughed nervously.

“I think Zatanna has the right idea, and the good sense to rule out entering the losers into a lottery!” Janet chortled softly.  “We avoid death games at all cost, say I!  However, what if the winner or winners get to make the losers pay a penalty when we get back home?  Let’s see, forcing the losers to have lesbian sex when we get back won’t work because my husband may continue to make that his doctor’s fee, and I know a few heroines who wouldn’t call that a penalty.  I know, the winners get to watch the losers do strip teases before the heroes!  Say I manage to do the booth stints and go home whole, but the rest of you don’t, you three strip for the Justice League, the Avengers, and the Fantastic Four.  I can hear the catcalls now, and the heroines will likely be making more noise than the heroes!  What do you girls think?”

“That works for me!” Zatanna replied quickly with a grin on her face as she watched Sue and Wanda fidget nervously.  “Not that there is any real likelihood a heroine is going to make it through three booth stints intact.”

“Actually, Zatanna, the percentage of booth players that end up being debreasted on any given night isn’t that high,” Wanda replied with a frown on her face.  “I could see one of you doing everything possible to make it through the night intact, just so you could watch me debase myself in front of my teammates!  Still, I’ll agree, so long as none of the heroes are told why I have to pay the penalty.”

“I’m not getting naked in front of my brother!” Sue spat vehemently, referring to her teammate, Johnny Storm, the Human Torch.  “I suggest a modification.  The losers strip before any winners’ teams, and She-Hulk, if she ever joins us, is deemed an Avenger and not a member of the Fantastic Four.  That way there is no chance I’ll ever have to strip before my own team!”

“Hey, trying to make it feel like you’re trying to win the game is mostly for your sake, Sue!” Janet chided sarcastically.  “You’ll try to win harder if you know you might have to strip before your brother if you lose!”

“What say we accept Sue’s modification and mine as well,” Zatanna chuckled.  “Every heroine who dances before a team of heroes gets raffled off to sexually service one member of each team she dances before—hero and heroines all eligible to enter into the raffle!  That way if Janet, Sue, and I all keep our tits, Wanda gets screwed thrice over!”

Janet laughed loudly as Sue grew pallid, and replied, “Sorry, Zatanna, Sue’s going to vote against that modification.  Me too!  What happens to us married girls here in the future is something our husbands need never know about, but I wouldn’t want my husband to hear about me sexually servicing other heroes.  I vote we go with the penalty I suggested with Sue’s modification.  Are you game, Wanda?  Seal the deal!”

“If we come to this agreement, Sue and Zatanna, will this mitigate your reservations about playing the booth game?” Wanda asked softly.  “Will this help, even though some of us are not going to try terribly hard to actually escape with our chests intact?”

“Yes,” replied Zatanna with a grin on her face.  “Janet can even continue to bounce with excitement at the prospect of my balloons getting popped!”

Janet stuck her tongue out at Zatanna, and quipped, “That’s a given!  I’m going to still enjoy watching you girls getting your busts busted—especially Wanda’s!  Sue?”

“Yes, this agreement will make me feel better about coming here for Wanda’s new-found favorite form of recreation,” Sue giggled softly.  “I actually intend on doing my best to win free climaxes without donating my bacon from here on out.  However, don’t expect me to stop cheering when you girls get your breasts poached.  Just chalk it up to my wanting to see you strip for my guys!”

“I wouldn’t expect anything else, Sue,” Wanda said softly, “even without the penalty to be won.  If we are going to try to adopt this century’s attitude about doing a booth stint from within, then I think we need to adopt this century’s attitude regarding the booth game from without.  Not only do the majority of these girls enjoy watching another girl get her bacon poached, most of them are more than willing to do the poaching if they see a set they fancy.  If that brunette, Helen, who assisted in Mariko’s debreasting during the high school field trip, shows up Friday night and takes a booth, then I expect Janet to slap her debreast button, the way she was coveting her bacon!  No more feeling a holier-than-though because we are heroines!”

“Yummy!” Janet chirped.  “I won’t hesitate to turn that chest into sandwich meat, and would hope that one of you collects Helen’s bacon if I’m not able to.  Don’t worry, Sue, we will trade for one vegetarian sandwich if you want us to!”

“Thanks, Janet!” Sue giggled.  “That will help me keep my cholesterol count low enough to sample your bacon if it ends up on our table!”

Zatanna laughed at Janet’s reddening face and observed sarcastically, “Oh my, isn’t this all so liberating!  Now we can all risk, destroy, and eat breasts with a clear conscious.  Who would have known it could be so easy to come to terms with?” 

Janet stared at Zatanna with a puzzled look on her face for a long moment, before shaking her head and announcing, “Jeese, I’m sure glad we finally got that decided, because Mr. Jennings just rolled the debreasting frame into position before the lineup of demonstration girls, which means the entertainment, I mean education, is about to begin again, and I’m running dry!”  Janet blushed as all three of her friends stared at her with concern, and spat, “Don’t look so surprised!  Who would have thought you could get five liters of milk out of these C-cups I carry?”

As a loud beep began issuing from Janet’s booth, Cheryl rushed over to turn off the milking machine and begin freeing Janet from her milkers.  Soon the waitress had the heroine disconnected from her stall.  She undid the twine above the heroine’s elbows, but left the girl’s wrists bound behind her back as she led her out to the observation deck and pushed her onto her knees in front of the waitress’s food-preparation counter.

 

Chapter 15. Tabatha Takes Her Turn

 

            “Okay, boys and girls, it’s time for the next demonstration,” Bill Jennings announced loudly from his position in front of the box-like frame.  “Before we get started, I would like to make two announcements.  First, I must admit that I am a bit astonished.  We made it through that break without one of you girls giving into Jessica’s seduction and getting yourself spitted.  My second announcement is that one of the volunteer milk cows has run dry and, as promised, is on her knees in front of the counter with her pussy available for use by any of you boys who have a hankering for older women.  The only restriction is that you take her from behind, so that both of you can watch the demonstrations while you fuck, and do remember she is being punished, so don’t even think about removing her anal plug.  Now, as we are ready to begin the next debreasting demonstration, why don’t you step up and stand before this restraining frame and tell us your full name, what subject you teach at university, and your age, Tabatha.”

            The lovely, blue-eyed brunette with perfect brownish-pink tipped D-cups quickly moved to stand before the metal frame with her hands still tied behind her back.  Confusion still filled her face as she said in a shaky voice, “My name is Tabatha Stevens, Mr. Jennings, and I teach botany.  My dissertation was on angiosperms, which are flowering plants.  I’m 25 years old.”

            “Thank you, Tabatha,” Bill said with a friendly smile.  “You are a most lovely young woman.  Tell me, have you ever visited a debreasting booth club?”

            “No Sir, Mr. Jennings,” Tabatha replied with a frown filling her face.  “I have fantasized about doing so, but this will be my first time with my breasts at risk of being harvested.” 

            “Your breasts are not at risk, Tabatha,” Bill corrected softly, “they are condemned to be converted into breast bacon.  Unlike the booth game, there is no chance that you will leave that restraining frame a breasted girl.  However, as it is a debreasting booth venue that we are simulating with this demonstration, you will be happy to know that we will be using an orgasmatron beam emitter during your partial conversion.  You may find this to be a very rewarding experience.  Shall we get started with your restraints, Miss Stevens?”

            “Yes, Sir, we may as well,” the brunette replied, her voice no longer cracking and her eyes filled with interest rather than fear.  Tabatha smiled at the man before her as she continued speaking, “Unless, of course, there is something I can do or say to talk myself out of this demonstration?”

            “Tempting, Miss, Stevens,” Bill chuckled, “as I’m sure there are lots of ‘somethings’ I would enjoy doing with you.  However, they are not part of this field trip’s curriculum, and the demonstration you have been selected to be part of is.  Cheryl, could you bring me some lengths of…OH!”  Bill grinned as he turned to find his head waitress already standing behind him with four lengths of twine.  He quickly took the twine and instructed, “Just stand at the front of the frame, Tabatha, with your ankles pushed against the bottom of the forward vertical frame posts.”

            Bill smiled as he watched the teacher comply.  She was obviously embarrassed, her sex now openly displayed for all to see with her legs widely spread, but she stood silent with a silly grin on her face as the man on his knees below her restrained first one ankle and then the other to the lower corners of the frame with the twine lengths.  Bill then moved behind the girl, and checked the twine binding tied her wrists together behind her back before using the remaining twine lengths to secure her upper arms to the vertical frame posts on either side of her.  “There we go, Tabatha, nice and secured,” Bill chortled, “now all we need is…ahhh, here it is now!”

 

            Tabatha Stevens couldn’t avoid letting fear fill her eyes and face as the blonde waitress wheeled the contraption she had removed from a closet to its position before her.  She realized there must be small rollers on the square plate-like base that appeared to rest on the floor.  A thin, narrow rectangular beam extended upward from the center of the plate. At the top of this vertical beam, thin circular hoops of metal with leather straps on their outer edge were positioned on either side.  Atop the bottom plate on the side facing Tabatha was a thin disk-like device the teacher instinctively knew was an orgasmatron beam projector.  She hardly noticed the device that would soon bathe her sex in pleasure beams.  Her horror-filled eyes were locked unblinkingly on the thin, two-foot diameter circular disk rimmed with sharp-edged jagged teeth.

            ‘They are going to slice my tits off my chest with a buzz saw!’ filled Tabatha’s numbed mind as she heard herself issue gasps between gagging sounds.  She could see the motor attached below the saw blade.  It was attached to a pulley wheel on the far side of the circular disk by a thin rod, and to the inside of the vertical post by a shorter rod attached to a rubber wheel designed to propel the buzz saw upward.  A rubber belt extended from a pulley wheel on the motor to the saw’s pulley. 

Tabatha began pulling on the twine binding her wrists together as she watched Mr. Jennings push the device toward her and adjust the height of circular hoops.  She shook her head negatively as he pulled one of her breasts and then the other through the hoops.  Then the man stepped through the frame to stand behind her.  He pulled the straps behind her back and used the clasp on the end of one of them to cinch her chest tightly to the debreasting machine.

Tabatha tried to see what Mr. Jennings was doing as he knelt and began fiddling with the disk-like device that was now positioned between her widespread legs.  Then she gasped loudly and nearly climaxed as he reached up to spread her labium with the fingers on his right hand.  After a few seconds, she heard him flip the device’s on-switch with his left hand and command, “Try to move your hips in a circle, Miss Stevens!  I need to make sure the orgasmaron beam emitter is locked onto your clitoris.”  As the teacher complied, she heard the man mutter, “That’s it!  The device is tracking perfectly!”  She moaned softly in disappointment as she felt the man’s right hand leave her sex, as he crawled out of the center of the box-like frame.

Tabatha Stevens struggled to contain the trepidation she felt filling her soul as she watched the Bill Jennings tug on her right nipple as he used a small post on the outer edge of the hoop rim to cause the diaphragm-like circle to contract around the base of her D-cup, causing her flesh to ball slightly.  He repeated the procedure with her left breast, and announced, “There, Miss Stevens, I think we will now be able to harvest as much of your breast bacon as possible.  In a moment I’ll turn on the buzz saw motor, the blade will begin rising, and the orgasmatron will begin beaming pleasure into your sex.  The slower the blade is allowed to rise, the longer your debreasting will take, and the higher the pleasure beam setting.  Tell me, Tabatha, do you want your partial donation to be slow or fast?”

“As slowly as possible, Mr. Jennings!” Tabatha replied in a voice that lacked any hint of fear or remorse.  “I want to get one hell of a nice cum in exchange for letting my balloons get popped.  After all, a girl can only get her bacon poached once.”

“Right you are, Miss Stevens,” Tabatha heard the man reply softly as he smiled and nodded, “and as you wish.  This is going to hurt like hell, Tabatha, but I think you will really enjoy yourself for the next fifteen minutes of so.  Pleasant memories!”  The teacher watched as Bill Jennings knelt, adjusted some controls on first the motor and then the orgasmatron beam emitter, and then walked away.  Tabatha could hear a low hum as the blade began spinning so rapidly that the teeth became blurred.  As Tabatha began moaning with a mixture of fear and sexual pleasure, it took her many seconds to realize the circular blade was also slowly rising up the vertical metal beam leading to her chest.  That realization was followed by her first climax as she realized her prized moneymakers were truly doomed!

 

Janet Van Dyne groaned in obvious disappointment as she watched a thin red-haired boy crawl from the center of the sitting crowd of students to kneel behind her.  The boy’s massive erection protruding from his already unzipped pants left his intentions obvious, so it was no surprise to the spunky heroine when he hissed, “Lean forward and put your tits on the floor, cow!  I want access to your pussy.  When Tabatha’s knockers come free to be dead meat, I’m going to spray my seed inside you and knock you up.  It’s about time I started making piglets to be raised in those larders they dare call Orphanages!”

Janet frowned, but silently complied. She blushed deeply when she saw that her three friends were all staring at her from their milking stalls, their attention momentarily diverted from the slowly rising buzz saw blade.  As the boy behind her brutally thrust his penis into her vagina, eliciting a pain-filled grunt from Janet, Wanda grinned before making a show of returning her attention to the imperiled breasts on the other side of the room.  Janet pushed the anger that she began to feel towards her friend into the back of her mind.  She already had a plan to get even with the big-breasted witch.

As the boy behind her began to rhythmically hump his manhood into her sex, he wrapped his right arm around Janet’s torso and pulled her chest up off of the cold cement floor as he whispered, “Here…I’ll hold you up…so you can watch.  I expect you to cum…cow…as you get fucked…while Tabatha…gets her balloons popped.  You…have a problem…with that…COW?”

“Nope!” Janet replied softly, and began meeting the boy’s forward thrusts with rearward thrusts of her own hips.  “My friends and I enjoy sex, and have recently acquired a taste for good debreastings.  Bad timing for me though.  At this point in my monthly cycle, I’m sure to get bigged if sperm enters my uterus.”  Janet grinned inwardly as she wound the boy up by telling him what he wanted to hear.

“Good!” the boy rasped as he picked up the pace of his humping.  “If you don’t cum…for me…cow…and I’ll know if you’re faking…I’ll hack your tits off…with a meat cleaver.  I assume…no more milk money…makes that a…bad debreasting?”

Janet simply nodded as she found herself cooing in pleasure.  She wasn’t worried about not climaxing—she was worried about looking like a slut if she began climaxing too early.  She tried to concentrate on the rising saw blade instead of the phallus pummeling her sex.

 

As she felt gentle air currents bathing her belly behind the swiftly spinning saw blade, Tabatha Stevens shivered with anticipation, and issued a moan that made it obvious to all that the orgasmatron device between her wide-spread feet was doing its work well.  She would have sworn the pace of the debreasting blade’s rising had slowed as it neared the lower bases of her breasts.  Now that the teacher knew her breast bacon was about to be harvested, she couldn’t wait for the painfully erotic process to begin.  Sure, she was going to miss the curves her D-cups added to her figure, and the joy she felt as her bed partners played with the chest ornaments during sex.  However, now she would be able to join her many friends with flattened chests in reminiscing about the day her breast bacon was poached, and felt the memories would be more than worth the loss she would surely feel when the agony and sexual bliss had ended.

Tabatha grinned broadly as she felt the first itch on her lower chest.  She knew the sensation was from the saw teeth parting the delicate skin under the drapes of her breasts, and climaxed a split second later when she felt the wetness of blood dripping down her rip cage.  The teacher was in full orgasm when the first waves of agony washed through her brain as the nerves in her bosom began to protest the destruction of her conical appendages.  She heard someone giggling loudly between short shrill screams of pain, and suddenly realized the sound was coming from her own mouth—her mind was having difficulty in separating the sensations of pleasure bathing her sex from the terrible torment being exuded from her chest.

Tabatha Stevens stared downward and shook her head in disbelief.  The saw blade had made little progress crawling up through her breast meat.  At this rate, the popping of her balloons would seem to take an eternity.  The teacher examined the fine pink mist the rapidly spinning blade was propelling into the air to the left of her chest, and tried to gauge the wetness on her rib cage.  At least there didn’t seem to be as much blood as she had expected to accompany a debreasting.  Tabatha heard the sensual moans she herself was issuing, and marveled at their eroticism—they told the story of her climax that seemed to show no sign of subsiding, as well as the erotic agony of the sensual destruction of her femininity.

Tabatha looked out into the audience of students and teachers watching her demonstration—the mixture of horror and wonderment that filled their faces was amazing to behold.  She wanted to scream out to them, and tell them about the rollercoaster ride of pleasure and pain that washed through her brain, but she couldn’t manage the composure to do so.  The looks on their faces told her she really didn’t need to.  She could see they could tell how hot getting her breasts poached made her feel, and how terribly she was hurting at the same time.  She could also tell most of the girls wished they could trade places with her right here and now—Tabatha was involuntarily doing her part in selling Mr. Jennings’ pitch!

 

Wanda glanced from the erotic scene of a girl being debreasted across the room, out to her teammate being forced into intercourse in front of the food-preparation counter, and then to her friends in the milking stalls on either side of her.  “This really blows!” Wanda spat with obvious disappointment.  “We’re tied down in a bent-over position and getting our boobs milked while Tabatha gets climaxed during a debreasting and Janet has sex while watching it.  Life isn’t fair!  You know, it’s really weird that none of us have selected the circular saw in the Final Fantasy booth games.  The way that blade is crawling through that teacher’s D-cups looks really hot!”

“Yes, Wanda,” Sue replied softly as she grinned at the auburn-haired beauty beside her while Zatanna burst into laughter, “life is not fair.  Although that teacher likely knew there was some risk this would happen to her when she was assigned to this field trip, she likely never volunteered for the field-trip duty, and most certainly didn’t volunteer to have her breasts painfully destroyed by that buzz saw.  Need I remind you that, for her, this will be a permanent amputation?  Additionally, if Janet were not one of us heroines and instead from this century, she would be in very real danger of getting impregnated, and it sounds to me as if single mothers are not allowed to keep and care for their infants in the 41st Century.  That is another facet of this world we need to investigate, for I can tell you as a mother myself that having one’s child taken away from you would be a terrible thing!”

“Sue, you are in such wonderful shape, it is hard to remember you have a young son, Franklin,” Zatanna interjected, giggling as Wanda blushed badly.  “From the revulsion that crossed Janet’s face when that boy parked himself behind her, I don’t think Janet is having the sexual field day she had with Andy at Club X, Wanda.  I don’t know about Sue, but I’m going to hope I keep squirting milk until this field trip is over.  As for the debreasting method, there are so many to choose from.  If this one now catches your fancy, give it a try Friday night.  As for me, I think I’ll try either the razor-wire loops or the snippers.  However, I must admit that, in spite of our earlier conversation, I’m still having difficulty justifying this debreasting hobby in my mind.  Don’t worry, though, I won’t miss watching the boys take the chop at the start of our next outing.  Actually, I’m hoping I can find a way to participate in at least one of the emasculations.”

“Zatanna’s right, Sue, you have the same figure you had before giving birth to Franklin,” Wanda said softly with a still reddened face.  “Some girls would point at you and protest that life wasn’t fair because of that.  I’ll struggle to remember that the girls we are watching getting debreasted don’t have the same repeatability options we do, or our broad-spectrum pregnancy protection.  Let’s remember to ask Bill or, perhaps better, Cheryl, about these so-called Orphanages.  As for my choosing the circular saw next Friday, Zatanna, I doubt it.  There are so many interesting ways to get my balloons popped—no complaints there.  As for participating in the Friday night emasculations, I don’t think Janet will accept any help with her husband, Hank.  Dinah and Oliver aren’t married though, so maybe Black Canary will let you castrate Green Arrow while she guillotines his spurting penis!”

“Jeese, Wanda, I think you’ve been hanging around Janet too long!” Sue chortled softly.  “You sound as enthusiastic as she does about watching a penis get chopped off!  She’s going to feel awfully bad if the Chula nanogene tissue regenerator packs up and stops working Friday night, which is why I understand your reservations about continuing to join our girls’ nights out, Zatanna.  However, I might point out that the chances of the alien technology failing are very low, and one thing we have learned from the girls from this century is that losing your breasts permanently isn’t the end of the world.  It would be much easier for me to go home and admit to my husband, Reed, that I had gotten my chest permanently flattened while voluntarily playing an outwardly horrifying booth game in exchange for a free pleasure-beam-induced climax, than to go home and admit I had voluntarily put myself in a position to be forced into having sex with strange men.  I hate going home from these field-trips-to-the-future feeling like I cheated on my husband.  Therefore, I also hope I’m still lactating after this dairy has been vacated of college boys!”

“Wow!” Wanda spat with obvious amazement.  “We’ve all produced nearly five-and-a-half liters of milk!  That is amazing!  Maybe watching other girls’ mammary glands getting killed is adding incentive to our own breasts to do nature’s work well.  Speaking of boob destruction, Tabatha is about half popped, and the pleasure beams seem to be doing less well at compensating for the pain she is suffering.”  As the three volunteer milk cows returned their attention to the debreasting demonstration, they all could not help but take in one last glance at their friend, Janet, now seemingly enjoying her rape as she knelt before the counter at the edge of the crowd of students with her hands still tied behind her back.  

 

Tabatha Stevens was indeed struggling to survive the agony burning through her chest.  It had been more than a minute since her last climax had ended, and the circular blade sawing off her breasts was only halfway done flattening her bust.  She was now issuing short gasps of pain containing little suggestion of sexual pleasure.  Looks of concern were beginning to creep into the faces filled with fascination on the girls in the audience.  Tabatha twisted her head to watch Bill Jennings lean through the frame and make an adjustment on her orgasmatron beam emitter, and heard him loudly explain, “Sorry, the beam intensity at my club’s booths automatically increase through the debreasting procedures.  With these primitive debreasting facilities, I have to remember to manually set the device to do so.” 

Seconds later, Tabatha issued the staccato triple sigh of orgasm, and a look of ecstasy washed most of the agony from her face.  The look of mesmerized wonderment returned to the faces in the crowd before the teacher strapped into the restraining frame.  In the audience, Tabatha could see the former volunteer milk cow issuing short gasps of pleasure as her eyes were riveted on the teacher’s doomed breasts as the red-haired boy copulated with her.  Tabatha could tell that both intercourse partners were nearing climax.  She glanced down to her own chest—there was only an inch of skin left to be sliced away on the inner crests of her boobs, but there was still quite a bit of breast meat to be sliced away on the outer sides of her D-cups.

As the seconds slowly passed, the smile on Tabatha’s face grew broader, as did the sounds of sexual bliss.  There remained subtle elements of pain on her face and in her moans, but overall the teacher seemed to be in quite good spirits.  In truth she was!  Tabatha Stevens was only seconds from finishing her transformation from breasted girl to sow to breastless girl and bacon lumps.  Tabatha’s soul was filled with pride.  Overall, she felt she had faced her debreasting experience with bravery and dignity.  Then a dumbfounded look filled her face as the rapidly spinning blade finished its path through all but the outer corners of her breasts, and her boobs suddenly sagged downward and outward.  Tabatha sighed loudly in intense orgasm.

Tabatha grinned with pride as the volunteer milk cow suddenly joined her in climatic sighs as the girl being raped saw the air rushing out of the teacher’s big balloons.  Then Tabatha saw the boy throw his head back and grunt loudly as he spewed his semen into the former cow’s vagina as she felt the tugging of her chest skin end and heard a familiar double plop.  “POPPED!” Tabatha screamed in jubilation.  “I got my balloons POPPED!  Damn that was HOT!”  Tabatha grinned happily as the audience before her began laughing with chattering as they watched Mr. Jennings and his assistant begin unstrapping and untying the debreasted teacher so they could treat her wounds.

 

Janet gasped softly as she struggled to catch her breath.  She enjoyed the glow of orgasm, but was not in the least bit happy that the glow had been forced upon her.  She liked Bill Jennings immensely, but hated the way he took every advantage to make her aware she was only a girl in this male-dominated culture.  She frowned as she suddenly wondered if Bill would indeed dock her clitoris and nipples at the end of the day for being the first to run dry.  She shook her head and smiled, thinking, ‘No, Bill Jennings won’t do that to me, at least not today.  He won’t risk our not returning Friday night with Wonder Woman’s huge tits in tow!”

The frown returned to Janet’s face as she heard the boy behind her chidingly quip, “How does it feel to know you have a bun in the oven, cow, and that you can’t do anything about it.  How does it feel, knowing that your piglet is going to be taken away from you at birth and raised in a cold clinical environment to be nothing more than spare parts for organ transplants and meat cuts at the grocery store?”

“That really blows!” Janet admitted grimly.  “However, at least a girl can’t get be made preggers twice in one day.  At the least my next rapist, if there is one, won’t be able to make the same derisive remark!”

“That won’t stop the next guy from tasting that tight pussy of yours, cow!” the boy replied ruthlessly.  “However, just to give you some hope, the other boys might wait for a while, hoping one or more of your friends run dry while we’re still here.  When they do, they’ll be given the chance to carry piglets too.  It’s every guy’s duty to send as many piglets as possible to the Orphanages.  The demand for organs isn’t that high, but the market for grain-fed girl meat never goes away!”  As the red-haired boy got up and walked away, Janet frowned.  This world was certainly rough on the female gender.

 

Tabatha Stevens grinned happily as Cheryl, having finished bandaging her wounds, knelt down to set two severed D-cups on a silver tray.  “That’s my donation to the worldwide food supply!” Tabatha called out proudly.  “Being debreasted hurt terribly, but I sure enjoyed my orgasmatron-induced rewards!  Thank you for choosing me for that demonstration, Mr. Jennings!  Marcia, honey, I’m guessing it’s your turn to show off your big tits one final time.  I hope Mr. Jennings has a really cool demonstration planned for your breast poaching.

Tabatha didn’t notice the crestfallen look fill the redheaded student’s face as the breastless teacher immediately rejoined her peers and the students.  Evidently, the college girl wasn’t looking forward to having her DD-cups make loud plopping sounds after being killed for Roberto’s viewing pleasure.  Tabatha Stevens was oblivious to this fact, although she did notice Mr. Jennings retake his lecturing position at the front of the class.

 

Chapter 16. Brassieres for the 41st Century

 

            “Remain in your lineup position for now, Marcia,” Bill Jennings instructed loudly.  “I think it is time for some additional interaction with the class participants before we proceed with the next debreasting demonstration.  I’m going to ask for two girls to volunteer to model some specially designed lingerie.  The two volunteers are going to be asked to engage in a serious catfight, so it might help if the selected girls don’t like each other.  Let’s see a show of hands for girls willing to volunteer while my assistant brings over…,” Bill paused as the audience began laughing, and turned to find Cheryl standing behind him with two chest harnesses that were obviously unusual styles of brassieres, before continuing with, “…well, never mind that, raise your hands and I’ll select the first volunteer.”

            As about half the class raised their hands, Bill quipped, “I’m really tempted to randomly select two girls who didn’t raise their hands, but I really want this bit to be interesting.  You there,” Bill pointed to a short, slim, cleanly shaven Oriental girl with short black hair near the back of the class whose slightly swooping C-cups looked impressive due to her diminutive stature, “you look like you can handle yourself well physically.  Why don’t you stand, come up here to the front of the class, and tell us your name, while the other girls keep their hands raised.” 

            Bill smiled as the girl clapped happily and raced over to stand beside him before announcing, “I am Kim Lee Cho, and I will happily fight any girl here, Mr. Jennings.  I say this without knowing the penalty the losing girl will pay.”

            “That is very brave of you, Kim Lee,” Bill Jennings replied with a broad grin on his face.  “Most of the girls here will have a significant size and weight advantage over you, probably making you the underdog.  Should I pick your opponent for you, or do you wish to challenge one of the girls to this match that does indeed involve the loser paying a serious penalty.”

            “I challenge that girl, Valerie Benson, to fight me, Mr. Jennings,” Kim Lee announced pointing to a gorgeous, brown-eyed brunette sporting slightly drooping D-cups who looked to be a good foot taller than the oriental girl and athletically fit.  The fact that the girl didn’t have her hand raised didn’t seem to matter to Kim Lee, who spat angrily, “You’re going to pay for beating me in the Freshman Class President election by flashing those big tits of yours at anyone who wanted to see you naked, Valerie.  I am a much better student!  I should have won!”

            “If you’re so smart, what are you doing challenging a bigger and more physically fit girl to a fight, Kim Lee, without even knowing what is going to happen to you when you lose?” Valerie yelled loudly from her sitting position, her hands cupped over her cleanly shaven pubic mound, and then laughed.  “I should teach you a lesson by spanking you good in front of all of your friends, but I would like to know what I’m risking before accepting the challenge.” 

            Bill Jennings roared in laughter for almost a full minute before saying, “Well, I’ll humor you by granting that request, Valerie, though I may make you fight whether you want to or not.  You girls will remember that, as part of the high school field trip, I tried to warn you against risking your breasts for partial conversion at private parties.  Well knowing that many of you will have ignored that warning, and being a very astute business man, I’ve designed some accessories to be used at such private parties to facilitate the risking of breasts in, hopefully, fun and entertaining ways.  As such, these debreasting brassieres, which by the way are for sale at your university book store, are one such accessory.  The loser of this catfight, Valery, will be donating her breasts to my club’s kitchen!”

            “In that case I’ll take Kim Lee’s challenge voluntarily, Mr. Jennings,” Valerie chortled loudly her shoulder-length hair shaking as she nodded vigorously, “because she was doing more than her share of flashing her boobs during the campaign.  I’m going to send you home titless, Kim Lee.  We shall see who is smart enough to keep her moneymakers intact to be used as an asset in the Sophomore Class elections next year.”

            “Whatever happens, that won’t be you, you whore, Valerie!” Kim Lee said with a mean grin on her face and anger flashing in her brown eyes.  “I’ll bet you cry when your big melons splat on the floor.  Whatever happens to me, I’ll be the one laughing then!”

            “All right, girls, you can put a lid on it until we have you in the brassieres,” Bill Jennings interjected loudly.  “Let my assistant Cheryl help you put your brassiere on, Valerie, while I do the same with Kim Lee.  The bra’s clasp hooks at the front between the breasts.  There is a small ring that protrudes outward at one side of the clasp.  Be warned girls, don’t touch the ring unless you want to debreast yourself!”

            Other than some brief adjustments to the bandwidths on the one-size-fits-all lingerie, the clothing went on nearly identically to any brassiere.  Instead of cups, the girls’ breasts protruded through a diamond-shaped lattice at the front of the harnesses.  Sure enough, there was a one-inch-diameter ring that protruded outward between each girl’s breasts. 

With the two girls now prepared for their contest, Bill pointed to the thin filaments that formed the diamond-shaped openings through which each girl’s breasts protruded, and said, “These are four, individual, razor-thin metal filaments.  The metal is highly elastic and each filament has been significantly stretched in their center to form the horizontal V-shapes on either sides of each of your breasts.  The filaments are held into their stretched shape by small, but strong, mechanical hooks at the sides and centers of the harnesses.  Notice that the ends of the horizontal Vs are on the opposite sides of your breasts from the horizontal V points.  When your debreasting brassiere ring gets pulled, the hooks holding the filaments in their stretched shapes are released, and all four filaments snap straight, double cutting through each breast like it was made of liquid.  Pull your opponent’s ring, and you’ll get to hear her breasts double plop on the floor—that girls is your objective in this contest, and, like any good catfight, there aren’t any rules.  You may begin.”

As Mr. Jennings and his assistant began to walk away to take positions on either side of the room, Kim Lee flashed into action lunging with her right hand out in attempt to catch Valerie’s ring in her fingers while attempting to cover her own ring with her left forearm.  Valerie, who was expecting a more formal beginning to the contest was taken by surprise and almost failed to deflect Kim Lee’s right arm with an outward rotation of her own left arm.

Valerie quickly retreated as Kim Lee regained her balance from the thwarted thrust and circled to Valerie’s right.  Kim Lee smiled with confidence.  She had some training in both Judo and Kung Fu, and felt she was the girl with the advantage in this fight.  As Valerie, halted her retreat and began slowly circled to her left, Kim Lee attacked again, this time with a right forward leg kick aimed at the brunette’s chest, hoping to catch the girl’s debreasting ring in her toes. 

Valerie took the chest blow hard, losing a lot of air, but thrust upward on the leg with her arms without any toes catching her ring.  As the Oriental girl’s planted left foot slid forward as Valerie lifted upwards, the brunette dove forward hoping to tackle the smaller girl to the ground and pin her to the floor until she could use her weight and strength to reach the raven-haired girl’s debreasting ring without any risk to her own breasts.

Recognizing her opponent’s ploy, Kim Lee spun to her right yanking her right leg free of Valerie’s hands and catching the girl’s right wrist in both of her own hands in one fluid motion.  As her right foot hit the floor, Kim Lee rolled her right shoulder downward, executing a perfect Judo throw and sending Valerie somersaulting over the smaller girl’s back.  Kim Lee twisted and lunged for the brunette’s ring with her left hand.

Valerie yelped as her hips landed hard on the cement floor, and desperately stumbled backwards and to her right, narrowly avoiding the smaller girl’s attempt to end the contest.  Fear filled the brunette’s eyes as she realized she was outclassed in the competition.

Kim Lee fainted with a thrust of her left hand towards Valerie’s chest as she stepped forward with her own right foot, and then swept forward and inward with her left foot, sending the brunette tripping backwards.  Kim Lee lunged for the kill again, but somehow the taller girl managed to spin away at the last minute.

Terror filled Valerie’s heart as she watched the Oriental girl circle to her right with a smile on her face and bad intentions in her eyes.  If this continued, the brunette knew the faster, smaller girl would either finally get lucky and outmaneuver her, or wear her out.  To survive, Valerie knew she had to do something unexpected, so she did.  The taller girl balled her hands into fists and jabbed with her left catching Kim Lee in the mouth and bloodying her nose.

Kim Lee wobbled as she took the head blow and reached up to grab Valerie’s left wrist, but the hand had already been retracted before she could catch it.  Kim Lee thrust for the brunette’s ring again with her right hand, only to take another hard jab in the face.

Valerie smiled, now that things were going better for her, and jabbed her fist into the smaller girl’s face again, this time following up with a hard right fist to the smaller girl’s stomach.  As Kim Lee doubled over, Valerie leaped onto her back, intent on getting the Oriental girl to the floor where she hoped to manhandle her.

Kim Lee rolled again, this time with her hands around Valerie’s neck, again sending the brunette somersaulting over her shoulder to land on her back on the hard floor.  As the girl sprawled hard, Kim Lee kicked hard with her right foot, this time catching the girl’s right D-cup square but missing the targeted debreasting ring badly.

Valerie caught Kim Lee’s foot and twisted hard, sending her stumbling backwards in a desperate attempt to maintain her footing.  The brunette scrambled to her feet and resumed her boxing stance.

Kim Lee spun to face the brunette, and faked another lunge before executing a perfect right-footed spin kick to the taller girl’s head.  To Kim Lee’s surprise, Valerie took the blow well and hopped backwards out of range of the left-footed follow up that had been aimed at her crotch.

As the smaller girl’s missed kick sent her spinning to her right, Valerie lunged forward and smashed her right fist hard into the back of the Oriental girl’s head, sending her stumbling to her knees.  The brunette instantly dove forward onto the raven-haired girl’s back, wrapping her arms around Kim Lee’s torso.  Not wanting to get thrown again, Valerie instantly stood, lifting the smaller girl off the floor and holding her in a bear hug. 

Kim Lee kicked desperately to get free, but was helpless to do anything more as both of her arms were pinned against her own waist by the taller girl’s arms.  Kim Lee threw her head backwards, catching Valerie hard in the chin.

Stars filled Valerie’s eyes momentarily as she took the head butt, but then she suddenly realized her own advantage.  Slowly she carefully slid her right hand up, without releasing her body lock, until she could feel Kim Lee’s jiggling breasts.  She heard Kim Lee scream in despair as Valerie’s fingers found the vital ring.  As the brunette pulled outward, there was the swooshing sound of straightening filament followed by a wet double plop.

Kim Lee screamed in pain and disappointment as her breasts were abruptly severed from her chest.  She struggled to hold the flow of tears from her eyes, and maintain her dignity in defeat.  She felt wobbly as Valerie suddenly released her grip on her and set her feet on the ground.  Kim Lee turned to face the brunette so that the girl could see the round, bloody wounds that were the evidence of Kim Lee’s defeat.  Anger filled Kim Lee as she saw Valerie grinning at her like a Cheshire cat, and surprised her own self as she suddenly found the fingers of her own right hand pulling on the ring between Valerie’s heaving breasts.

Valerie screamed in agony and astonishment as she heard the swooshing sound and suddenly watched her own breasts drop from her chest and tumble to the floor with the accompanying plopping sounds.  “Jeese, Kim Lee, there was no call for cheating!” Valerie screamed angrily.  “If you wanted to be Freshman Class President that badly, you should have just asked your rich father to bribe me into withdrawing.  Now neither of us have tits to entice the voters with.  Oh, well, politics isn’t the lucrative career it was made out to be anyhow.  What say we call it even and enjoy watching Marcia get her balloons popped.”

“Sounds good to me, Valerie,” Kim Lee replied for a smile.  “As soon as we’ve had our chests bandaged.  Sorry about your breasts!  I pulled the ring without realizing what I was doing.  What say I make it up to you tonight, after dinner and a hologram presentation?  You know, if we teamed up, I think we could make really good campaign managers!  Political Science degrees still might be in our futures.”  Once bandaged, the two breastless students hugged and kissed to their peers’ applause before taking their seats on the floor.

 

Chapter 17. Marcia Pays the Penalty of Being Female in a Man’s World

 

“Well, that was most interesting,” Bill Jennings said as he resumed his position in front of the class.  “Both girls fought very well, and my newly invented debreasting brassiere worked perfectly.  Did I mention they are for sale at the university bookstore?”  Bill grinned as the students and teachers laughed loudly.  “I guess the lesson learned from that entertainment is to never let down your guard until the lingerie has been put away and your breasts are truly safe!  I expect those brassieres to sell quite well, as there are many different games or contests they could be an integral part of.  Here’s one, a room full of blindfolded girls wearing the lingerie, stumbling around the room trying to pull as many rings as possible within ten minutes without getting the ring on her brassiere pulled before times up!  Think of the raucous sounds of strident screams and wet plops, and, finally the mouth-watering sight of a room’s floor covered with breast bacon lumps!  Yes, I know, I have an active imagination.”

“Well, enough of that,” Bill said just loudly enough to be heard over the happy chatter that filled the room, and turned to smile pleasantly at Marcia, “Roberto has commanded a girl to volunteer her breasts for partial conversion.  It is within Roberto’s rights as a male to order a girl to do, so you’ll have to comply, Marcia.  Please move forward to stand at the front of the restraining frame.”

Bill watched patiently as, with tears streaming down her face, the pretty redhead complied with his request and moved to stand directly behind the circular saw blade that had dispatched Tabatha’s breasts a short time earlier.  Bill smiled as the girl stared at the instrument of destruction with terror in her eyes, and in a soft, reassuring voice informed her, “You will be restrained in the same fashion Miss Stevens was, Marcia, but rest assured that saw blade will be removed from that stand before we begin your demonstration.  Why don’t you tell us your full name, what you’re majoring in at the university, and what you think about this culture in which a male can force most females do anything he wishes.  Then I’ll get busy securing you to the restraining frame and changing out the equipment.”

 

Marcia shivered as she stood behind the blood-covered buzz saw blade with her hands secured behind her back.  Tears continued to stream from her lovely hazel eyes as she tried to gather her composure to answer the man’s questions.  In a quivering voice she replied, “My name is Marcia Brady, and I’m only 19 years old.  I’m a theatrical major, so what Roberto is forcing upon me is pretty much ruining my acting career before it even gets started.  It really blows that a boy can do that to a girl, but, that said, I can understand why he has that right.  There are so few males in the world, and so little meat, that we females had to become both chattel and food for society to continue to prosper.  Thus it is Roberto’s right, or any other man’s right, to turn my breasts into bacon through an involuntary partial conversion, to force me to submit to intercourse and carry an unwanted fetus, or to force me to accept execution and a full conversion to meat.  I just wish I believed the world government was doing something to remedy the situation, but I don’t.  I think the male politicians that are elected by their male constituents are happy with things just the way they are—with us girls as chattel to meet both their carnal and culinary needs!”

“Thank you, Marcia, that was a very intelligent response to my request,” Marcia heard Mr. Jennings reply, before leaving her standing stunned before her teachers and fellow students as he continued speaking.  “I think you are correct in your belief that the world government is not working to change the status quo, but I think things are slowly changing, partly as a result of classes like this one.  At one time, the world government had total control over the meat market as a result of The Lottery and the Orphanages.  Girls’ families were paid next to nothing for their meat, and this meat was sold to markets and restaurants at a high profit margin for the government and great cost to the citizens.  Now, through voluntary full or partial conversions, you girls are exercising your own willpower by deciding how and when your meat will be harvested, and, I might point out, often at a monetary benefit for your families and always at a lower cost to your consumers.  This has reduced the world government’s economic stranglehold on the world population.  In a way, you are witnessing an economic revolution, due in part to the entrepreneurship of some men—men like me perhaps.  Things could continue to change, but that change will need to be driven by the will of women, not men, for there are too few of us enlightened men and we could easily be swept aside should the world government find the will to do so.”

Marcia stood slack-jawed and wide-eyed as she watched the man pause, evidently recognizing the silence that had suddenly filled the dairy.  She waited while the man nodded to no one in particular before saying with a loud chuckle, “I guess that was the father in me coming out.  I’ll get off my soapbox now and get back to doing what I do best—converting breasts to bacon.  I may be a bit of an idealist, perhaps partly due to my studies of 20th and 21st Century history when gender had little to do with what one could do or become in society, but I’m still a 41st Century male, and I have no problem with girls fulfilling my carnal and culinary needs.  Hopefully, I’m just a bit fairer than most men in how I go about getting those needs fulfilled.  Sorry, Miss Brady, but, as you said, it was Roberto’s right to order you to demonstrate a debreasting technique, so I’m going to have to poach those DD-cups of yours.  However, I’ll try to make it as pleasant and as memorable as possible.”

“Thank you, Mr. Jennings,” Marcia replied, astonished at the calmness in her voice, “I know you must and will.  Neither you nor Roberto should fret about it.  These knockers were destined to become bacon sooner or later!”

“Yes, they were,” Marcia heard the man reply as he turned to take some lengths of twine from his blonde assistant.  When he turned back to face her, he nodded to her bust line and quipped, “Those melons look delicious!  Your donation today is going to earn me some very happy customers.  Now let’s get you restrained so you can’t hurt yourself while that donation is being made.”

Marcia watched silently as the man quickly went to work with the twine.  Soon her ankles were secured to the bottom corners of the frame, and her upper arms were tied with twine and secured to eye-bolts in the center of the vertical frame posts.  The redhead grinned with relief as Mr. Jennings removed the circular saw blade, pulley assembly, and pulley belt from the front of the vertical post extending from the stand between her widespread feet, and handed the equipment to his assistant for her to haul back to her counter.  Then Marcia frowned as he pulled one large breast at a time through the circular hoops at the top of the post, after adjusting the height to fit the position of her chest.

Marcia twisted her head to try to watch what Mr. Jennings was doing when he stepped through the frame to stand behind her.  Soon her chest was belted tightly to the breast hoops, and the man was fiddling with the orgasmatron beam emitter below her feet.  Relief flooded through Marcia’s mind as she realized she was going to have pleasure beamed into her sex as her breasts were subjected to some form of agony as they were harvested from her body.  She moaned in pleasure as she felt the man part her labial lips so he could focus the pleasure beam on her clitoris.  Marcia obeyed instantly when the man told her to move her hips in a circle, and smiled as he grunted in satisfaction, and stepped back through the frame to stand before her.  She giggled as Mr. Jennings tugged on her nipples, one at a time, after which he tightened the hoop diaphragms around the bases of her rotund DD-cups. 

As Mr. Jennings fiddled with the wheel in the grooved center of the post that held the breast hoops, loosening it so he could adjust the wheel’s height, Marcia gulped loudly—she could see the man’s assistant walking towards her with a short horizontal bar from which two scissor-like shears protruded upward, one on each end.  The redhead shivered with fearful anticipation as she realized she was looking at the devices that would be used to execute her big boobs.  The razor-sharp, ten-inch-long shear blades formed shallow Vs, with the tips of the inner blades just touching each other.  The bases of the four blades had circular holes cut into them—four strong springs attached to the blades through the holes extended to smaller holes on the horizontal bar.  These springs held the shear blades in their open position.

Mr. Jennings grunted as he took the debreasting module from his assistant, and watched as the blonde hurried to the back of the frame to flip release switches on retraction-cable spoolers.  Marcia watched wide-eyed, her body shivering with apprehension, as Mr. Jennings secured the horizontal bar to the stem of the wheel he had loosened, on her side of the vertical post, and then moved the wheel upward until the open blades of the shears were positioned against the bases of each of her breasts on the inside of the diaphragm hoops that closed tightly around said breasts’ bases.

Marcia watched as the blonde returned to hand Mr. Jennings the end of a thin, retraction cable that extended from the right rear vertical frame post behind her, and then left to retrieve the end of a similar cable on the left rear vertical frame post.  The shivering student watched as Bill Jennings threaded the cable though each of the circular holes in the bases of the shear blades under her right breast, and used a snap hook through an oval ring at the end of the cable, and the cable behind the shears, to form a noose.  Soon, the man had done the same with the cable that was now attached to the shears under Marcia’s left breast, and the blonde had re-engaged the spooler locks.

Marcia frowned as Mr. Jennings stared into her eyes before nodding to her left.  She turned her head as he reached over with his right hand to the outside of the right forward-corner vertical frame post to a switch and knob dial, and explained, “The switch turns on an electric motor attached to the central vertical frame post behind you.  The knob dial controls how fast the motor turns an axel extending to the retraction cable spoolers attached to the rear corner vertical frame posts.” 

Marcia watched, shaking her head and shoulder-length hair in disbelief, as Bill rotated the knob counterclockwise to its minimum setting, and then flipped the switch, turning the electric motor on, before continuing with his explanation, “The rate at which the retraction cable is pulled back into the spoolers controls how fast the noose loops close, stretching the springs that hold the scissor blades open, and, therefore, how fast the scissor blades are pulled into a closed position as they shear upward and then inward through your breasts, Miss Brady.  Because of the primitive design of this contraption, the scissor blades may not reach the vertical, closed positions at exactly the same time.  The question for you to answer, Marcia, is, how long do you want the process to last, knowing the slower the blades close the longer you will receive both pain and pleasure, and the more intense the pleasure beams will be at the end of your debreasting?”

Marcia shivered as she thought about Mr. Jennings question for several seconds, and then replied with a calm demeanor, “Another difficult question, Mr. Jennings, knowing that I cannot avoid the pain and loss altogether.  I’m sure I would like the pain over with quickly, but knowing that the pleasure beams will be my only reward for giving Roberto his demonstration, I want my share of them as well.  I must, therefore, ask for a compromise.  Let to motor retract the cables at medium speed, and allow me the most intense orgasmatron beam setting that speed will earn me, taking into consideration, of course, that the bacon from these ample breasts will earn you many happy customers, Mr. Jennings.”

Marcia smiled as she watched Bill Jennings roar with laughter before he loudly replied, “You barter your breast bacon well, Miss Brady, though you are sow and do not own the meat you barter with.  Let the cables be retracted at medium speed, and let the orgasmatron setting begin at medium intensity, but be increased to maximum intensity just before your bacon is harvested.  I’m sure my customers will be very appreciative of your meat, Marcia, and I hope to enjoy the sound of two loud splats as those lovely melons of yours tumble downward to land on a silver meat tray.”  Bill nodded to his blonde assistant, who had just returned from her food counter with a large silver tray that she was now placing between and just forward of Marcia’s wide-spread legs.

The smile left Marcia’s face as she watched the man spin the speed control knob, and then kneel between her legs to adjust to orgamatron beam settings.  The redhead began cooing in pleasure almost immediately, but it took her a handful of seconds to realize that the scissor blades were, indeed, beginning to rotate upward.  “Oh, crap!” the student spat loudly.  “Sorry boobies, but you really are about to be history.  I knew I should have called in sick, accepted a failing grade in this class, and left university for a regular acting school.”  Marcia’s speech ended in a long, mournful sigh that spoke of the pleasure of wanton climax yet screamed of grim foreboding.

 

“Gosh darn it, those scissors closing around that girl’s massive breasts look hot!” Wanda giggled softly.  “So many debreasting options I haven’t had a chance to try!  You tried scissors, Zatanna, do you recommend them as a cool way to get your balloons popped?”

“Oh shut up, Wanda!” Zatanna spat with obvious irritation.  “I’ve had enough of your debreasting fixation!  More important things seem to be happening!  What’s with Bill, Sue?  Did he really just encourage those girls to do what I think he was encouraging them to do?”

“Yep!” Sue chirped happily.  “Revolution!  Revolution born in a dairy full of human milk cows and funded with meat voluntarily donated by girls.  However, don’t let Wanda fool you with that silly attempt at misdirection.  You are as astounded and intrigued as we are, aren’t you, Wanda?”

“Yes, Sue, I am intrigued and confused, and I can’t blame it on the onset of milking-induced dehydration,” Wanda replied softly, glancing at the six liters of blue-tinged liquid in the ten-liter milk storage container just to the right of her.  “Who would have expected this century’s citizens to fight against government tyranny with breasts gambled away in debreasting clubs or hacked off girls’ chests on butchers’ meat-cutting tables?  That intrigues me, but the fact that the government hasn’t responded by making voluntary donations illegal confuses me.  Why haven’t people like Bill been arrested yet?  Or is this something new from him, and our friend suddenly in jeopardy of jail time?”

“Sorry for thinking you were being serious with your question, Wanda,” Zatanna replied with obvious embarrassment.  “How do we know Bill was being serious, girls?  Maybe this is just part of Bill’s pitch to make the idea of voluntary partial donations attractive, especially, when that donation is made at Final Fantasy.  Men from the 41st Century sure know how to manipulate women.  We certainly saw that to be true at Club X!”

“Don’t apologize to Wanda, Zatanna!” Sue chortled.  “She may have been employing misdirection, but I’m sure she seriously wants an answer to her question as well.  As for this being part of Bill’s ‘chumming for breasts’ pitch, I’m sure it is, but what he said about the government, the price of meat, and this century’s economy had the ring of truth.  The same ring of truth you heard when he said he would continue to use girls for both his carnal and culinary enjoyment!”

“Right, Sue, I also believe what Bill said was both true and part of his customer recruitment pitch,” Wanda said softly while nodding.  “We have some additional questions to research!  When was and what motivated the advent of non-domestic voluntary conversion, especially partial conversion?  Also, how can entrepreneurial capitalism possibly compete with this government’s socialistic stranglehold on the meat supply through its control of The Lottery and Orphanages, which I heard that boy who had relations with Janet say is where the children from single mothers end up?  You can answer my debreasting-method question later, Zatanna—for the moment I’m happy to watch the scissors in action as they close on Marcia’s big breasts!”  Wanda and Sue laughed loudly as Zatanna’s eyes rolled upward in disbelief.

 

Marcia gasped softly with fear despite the pleasure that filled her loins.  Her breasts were beginning to be deformed as the slowly rotating scissor blades started to squish the inner and outer sides of her breasts towards the breasts’ centers.  There wasn’t any pain so far, and she couldn’t feel any wetness on her ribcage, so the young redhead was pretty sure her skin hadn’t been cut yet.  She looked out to the audience, and basked in the fascination that filled her peers’ and teachers’ faces.

The want-to-be actress smiled as she enjoyed being on center stage for a few more seconds before her face filled with confusion as she felt an itching sensation at the lower outside-quarters of her breasts.  The look of confusion became a frown of disappointment as she heard the blonde sitting between Roberto’s legs declare, “Look, sweetheart, there’s blood on her chest!  That bimbo’s big melons are being sliced open, and it won’t be long before they make that fantastic double plopping sound you asked for.  Isn’t it ice-hot that you get to play with my boobs while hers get terminated at your command?”

Tears filled Marcia’s eyes as she heard Roberto reply, “Yeah, Jill, it is giving me a hard on, knowing that those huge knockers are being carved off of Marcia’s chest for my viewing and listening pleasure.  You’re going to have to put out during the next break, or think of an acceptable alternative!  Otherwise, our engagement is off, as may be these wonderful C-cups!”  A grin filled Marcia’s face as she sighed in her first orgasmatron-beam-induced orgasm while she watched the blonde on the floor below her grow pallid and frown at her boyfriend’s words.  Evidently, once a young man from her culture had tasted the power he had over the girls of his culture, being pussy whipped by his girlfriend wasn’t the problem it used to be!

Suddenly, Marcia realized that her orgasmic sighs contained subtle textures of pain, and she brought her eyes away from the couple below her and back to her own breasts.  She could see thin red lines on the sides of her breasts below the protruding scissor tips now, lines that were slowly progressing upward as the retracting cables slowly closed nooses that caused sharp shear blades to rotate upward and inward.  Marcia winced as hear chest burned in agony, as the pain caused by the destruction of her breasts overwhelmed the pleasure being beamed into her sex by the orgasmatron emitter at its medium intensity setting.

As Marcia watched the red lines, now at the upper curves of her breasts, begin to progress inward, she gagged in horror as she realized her precious boobs were now half amputated.  She began to shake her head in denial of this reality that the misery burning from her upper torso testified to be true.  Then she threw her head back and issued three staccato sighs!  This time, Bill Jennings had set the orgasmatron beam emitter correctly and the pleasure beams had stepped up to their highest intensity.  The distress being screamed into Marcia’s brain as her appendages were slowly being assassinated couldn’t be ignored, but the young redhead was able to thrust this discomfort aside and focus on the waves of orgasm flooding through her sex.

After what seemed to be an eternity of pleasure-filled sighs and gasps, Marcia shrilled, “OH GOD!  Thank you…Roberto…for the…biggest cum…of my…life!  HUH?”  The redhead’s eyes opened wide as she stared downward to her own chest.  She gasped in trepidation as she realized there was only about a quarter-inch of un-parted skin at the top of the base of her right breast, and even less at the top of her left breast. 

“OHhhhh SHIT!” Marcia screamed as her left breast suddenly dropped free of her chest.  At the sound of a wet plop on the silver tray below the writhing redhead, the girl’s right breast dropped free to become bacon.  Marcia watched the meat fall—it seemed like an eternity before the girl heard the second plop that announced her breastless status to the room.  “I hope you are happy, Roberto!” Marcia spat.  “You poached my bacon good!  The fact that I enjoyed the experience will never make up for my ruined acting career!  Watch out for karma, Roberto!  I hear her coming, if not for you, then for that blonde bitch you are using as your main squeeze!”

Marcia smiled with satisfaction as both Roberto and Jill frowned up at her.  Then she watched as Bill Jennings began to untie her twine bindings while his assistant, Cheryl, treated her wounds.  Soon, Marcia was rejoining her classmates, her breastlessness, the sordid fate a young man had forced upon her mostly forgotten as the round bandages on her chest did their pain-numbing work well.  Marcia smiled as Bill Jennings announced another break so that he could change out his demonstration equipment—Marcia looked forward to watching other girls getting their breast bacon poached, and, with any luck, that blond bitch, Jill, getting fucked and impregnated by Roberto!

 

Chapter 18. The Curse of Running Dry    

 

            Janet fidgeted nervously as she knelt on the floor and watched Cheryl push the box-like restraining frame back to its position near the food-preparation counter while Bill busily set up an assortment of equipment, some before the diminished lineup of demonstration girls and some in the far end of the room kiddy-corner from the counter.  She was nervous because several of the male students were staring hungrily at her with bulges in their pants’ crotches.  For obvious reasons, the spunky heroine was readying herself mentally to be sexually abused yet again.  Then she saw something that gave her hope of salvation—it wasn’t the sight of one of her fellow heroines growing pallid as she realized her breasts were running dry of blue-tinged milk—it was the activity taking place in front of the Jessica machine.

            Janet shook her head in amazement as she watched the same group of girls from the last break continue to try to goad a small-breasted, brown-eyed blonde into mounting the spitting machine.  During the last break the girl, whose hair cascaded halfway down her back, had refused to do more than to test the sharpness of the spit, and feel the smoothness of the waist saddle and neck rest.  Now she was standing on the right kneeling platform and viewing the girl trap from above.  The vibrant smile on the girl’s face told Janet that the girl was tempted to straddle the Jessica, that she knew the danger such a position would put her in, and that the thought of getting one final stainless-steel fuck while her classmates watched enthralled her.  Janet had seen that look of dreamy excitement before—on her friend Bonita’s face on Janet’s first night in the 41st Century.

            Janet glanced around her as the chatter in the room suddenly subsided.  Most of the male students who had been carrying looks of sexual hunger on their faces were now paying attention to the girl being tempted by Jessica.  A tall, husky brown-haired boy near the back of the student congregation was still coveting her denuded vulva, however, and Janet could see Roberto and Jill talking excitedly, obviously about Jill taking care of Roberto’s libido as the boy was repeatedly pointing at his swollen manhood.  Janet cringed as she watched Jill shake her head and then nod towards her, and then smiled as Roberto shook his head negatively—evidently the thought of fornicating with a girl who was likely already carrying a fertilized ovum was not attractive to him.  It seemed the Latino boy would much rather force his fiancé to risk a pregnancy that would end her chance of getting papered status through marriage to him than waste his seed in an already plundered womb.

            Janet glanced back over to her fellow heroines.  Wanda grinned at her, and nodded towards the hunk staring at Janet’s sex when she saw she had the spunky heroine’s attention.  Janet frowned!  Then she smiled.  The auburn-haired witch didn’t know it yet, but Janet had already put a scheme into play that would put Wanda in her place.  Wanda couldn’t say no to the request Janet would make of her best friend when they returned home to the 21st Century—there would be too much peer pressure for her to comply.  Then Janet watched both Wanda and Sue turn to look at Zatanna after the raven-haired heroine had whispered something with a frown on her face.

 

            “You’re running dry?” Wanda asked softly as she stared at Zatanna’s reddening face.  “Are you sure?  Maybe it’s just a momentary reduction in your milk glands’ production rate as the lactation-inducing drugs that Bill injected into us weaken!”

            “Perhaps,” Zatanna replied softly, “but I doubt it.  The jets of fluid from my teats are definitely diminishing.  It shouldn’t be surprising…really…should it?  There is over six-an-a-half liters of my mother’s milk beside me.  I mean…I’ve been milked by that pervert…Dr. Lactose…twice during my heroine career...but he couldn’t get anywhere near this amount of fluid…from my breasts.  Don’t look so surprised…he chloroformed me…then he gagged me for the milking.  Not able to speak my backwards spells, I was helpless.  I’m just glad he doesn’t kill the heroines he catches once they run dry!”

            “Yes, we all need to thank our lucky stars for that?” Sue spat emphatically with a silly grin on her face.  The emotion in her voice was largely due to the memory of the day that Dr. Lactose had strapped her into his infernal milking machine, but the smile was due to silly pride in the fact that she was going to out-produce Zatanna.  This was something the blonde Mrs. Richards hadn’t expected.  While both heroines carried D-cups on their chests, Zatanna was taller and heavier than Sue, and Sue thought it likely that the raven-haired magic-user wore a 38-inch bandwidth, though partly because of her softer body, instead of the 36 that fit Sue.  By the very way that cup size was defined, the larger bandwidth meant Zatanna’s breasts were more massive than Sue’s—evidently breast size alone didn’t correlate with milk production.  “Let’s hang in there as long as we can, Zatanna!  I, for one, am not eager to have sex with college boys fixated on making me pregnant!”

            “Did you say, LET’S hang in there, Sue?” Zatanna gasped with obvious concern.  “Is your milk stream weakening as well?”

            “Yes…I think so,” Sue replied, now wearing her own blush.  “I hadn’t been aware of it until I just realized the level of fluid in my milk-storage container is close to the level in yours, while Wanda’s container is now at the seven liter mark.  We had all been producing milk at nearly equal rates when our stints in the milking stalls began.  As you said, I…we…shouldn’t be surprised.  This is easily a lactation record for me as well.  Do you want to bet that Wanda won’t fill her ten-liter container to the brim?”

            “Nope!” Zatanna snapped.  “I’m becoming lactose-deficient, not stupid!  I’ve heard rumors about how often the villains have milked the Scarlet Witch.  They say practice makes perfect!”  Zatanna frowned as the loud beep that began issuing from her stall announced that her own practice at milk production for the day had just ended.  She thought, ‘Well this blows, but at least I managed a blush out of Wanda with my chiding!’

            “Oh, darn it, Zatanna, I’m sorry you have to leave us,” Wanda said softly in the sweetest tone she could manage as she nodded to Cheryl making her way to the booths from her counter.  “Do try to enjoy yourself if one of the college studs takes a fancy to you.  Having sex with younger men can’t be all that bad!  As for me and my milk-storage container…well…if I fill it…it won’t be due to the practice the villains put me through…it will be due to the eight days I spent as a human milk cow on that protein poor alien planet I told you about at Final Fantasy last Saturday night when I tried to talk you girls out of this dairy day.”

            “Yeah, I remember,” Zatanna snapped angrily back as Cheryl began to unhook her from her milking machine.  “You know, I’m going to think it was a really bad decision to volunteer for this milking stint if the credits we earned by doing this today never get used!”  Zatanna’s face was beet red as Wanda and Sue giggled softly while Cheryl led her out to the floor in front of the counter with her wrists still tied and pushed her onto her knees just to the right of a relieved-looking Janet.

 

            “Boy, I am sure glad for the company, Zatanna!” Janet chortled gleefully, nodding to the front of the room.  “I’m pretty sure I was about to get humped by either Roberto or that likely well-hung brown-haired stud you see over there licking his lips as he stares at us.  If I’m going to be forced to have sex while watching her,” Janet nodded to blonde standing on the Jessica’s right kneeling pad nearer the back of the room, “do what I’m pretty sure she is about to do, I’ll at least be happy in knowing one of my friends is right beside me doing the same!”

            “Is that supposed to be comforting to me, Janet?” Zatanna asked with obvious irritation as she forced her eyes away from the athletic-looking student to the blonde who stood facing the wall-side of the Jessica with her hands behind her back as she seemed to be asking for a favor from the crowd behind her.  “What is that girl doing, anyhow?  Is she trying to get someone to tie her hands behind her back?”

            “Yes, I think she is, Zatanna,” Janet replied softly.  “I think she wants to get spitted, but in execution style rather than trapped-girl style.  The wrist ropes are really the only….”  Janet’s sentence was left unfinished as the brown-haired boy who had been watching them knelt behind Zatanna and began feeling up the raven-haired girl’s breasts.

            “The wrist ropes are Stella’s statement!” the boy said softly as he squeezed Zatanna’s breasts, pinched her nipples, and then licked milk from his fingers.  “Stella’s way of proving to those that care that Jessica didn’t prepare her for live-roasting over the coals because she was stupid.  When Stella’s parents see the hologram recording of this, with her wrists voluntarily tied, they will know their daughter is telling them they should have harvested her as a long pig for the recent family reunion, instead of her younger sister.  She’s punishing them for preferring veal!  WOW!  Your breasts are still firm, in spite of all that milk that came out of them.  I hope your pussy is nice and tight, and your uterus is filled with ripe eggs, girl!”

            “I’m Zatanna,” the raven-haired heroine chortled softly, as she watched one of the boys in front of the Jessica machine tie the blonde’s hands with twine, “which means my breasts are always firm, my sex is always tight, and that I’m as fertile and vulnerable to impregnation as I will likely ever be.  With my hands tied behind my back, I can’t stop you from taking me, if that is, indeed, your plan.  I won’t try to talk you out of it, either.  Just don’t be disappointed if I’m unable to climax, watching that girl commit suicide via impalement!”

            “That is indeed my plan,” the boy replied softly, his brown eyes filled with laughter, “and fair enough, I won’t punish you if you don’t climax.  Just don’t be disappointed when I do climax as I watch my cousin get spitted and imagine the piglet I’m going to force you to carry getting the same treatment some years from now.  I’m John by the way, which means I’m always hard, always randy, and always packing eleven inches of cock, so don’t be disappointed, either, if you do cum just as the spit pushes out between Stella’s lips.”

            Zatanna sighed softly in resignation at the sound of John’s pants zipper being lowered.  Then John moved behind the raven-haired heroine, who moaned with sensual anticipation—John had just positioned the head of his long, thick penis between Zatanna’s labial lips. 

Janet stared across the room to Jill and Roberto—Roberto, looking disappointed that John had beat him to Zatanna, was pushing Jill’s face towards his manhood.  Jill again desperately nodded towards Janet, and again Roberto shook his head as he whispered something which Janet’s lip-reading skills told her included the words ‘prefer’ and ‘blonde’.  Janet returned her attention to the Jessica machine just as Stella thrust her left foot over to Jessica’s left kneeling pad, and began to slowly, carefully lower herself to her knees.  As she heard humping sounds beside her, Janet shook her head—the young blonde was really going to voluntarily place her body into the girl trap!

            The spunky heroine licked her lips, as she glanced to one side and watched Zatanna taking John’s manhood in her vagina with her empty breasts on the cold cement floor.  It seemed John wasn’t going to bother holding the heroine up as he assaulted her from behind.  There wasn’t much to see now anyhow.  Stella was being very slow and deliberate as she perched on the Jessica machine and maneuvered her body into the spit-ready position.  Janet glanced from the Jessica back to Jill and Roberto—Jill was slowly bobbing her head over her boyfriend’s penis, no doubt knowing that when the boy was ready he would force her into copulation.

            The seconds passed slowly as Janet watched Stella carefully position her knees and ankles against the spitting machines rearward restraining straps.  Then the blonde girl, her quivering lips still carrying a nervous smile, slowly began allowing her torso to bend forward towards Jessica’s waist saddle.  Movement brought Janet’s eyes away from Stella to Roberto, who was now positioning a desperate-looking Jill on her knees in front of him.  Then, over the sound of John slowly humping Zatanna, a loud beeping sound brought Janet, Jill, and Roberto’s eyes to Sue’s milking stall.  Roberto quickly stood and walked over to the counter area as Cheryl unhooked the blonde volunteer milk cow from her stall—he grinned as the head waitress led Sue over to the counter area, her hands still bound behind her back, and pushed her onto her knees to Janet’s left. 

            “Seven liters!” Sue happily proclaimed.  “However, I guess I wasn’t going to lactate all afternoon.  What’s up?” Sue asked as she glanced to her left to look at Zatanna and John as they continued to copulate and showed no indication of being aware of her presence.

            There was the familiar snapping sounds from the Jessica machine, and Janet replied sardonically, “Stella, the blonde on the spitting machine, has just voluntarily assumed the impaling position, her cousin John is busily working towards making a baby with Zatanna, and, much to Jill’s relief, Roberto is about to give you a piglet of your own, Sue.  I think that about covers it for now!”

            “Oh, is that all?” Sue softly replied, trying to hide the disappointment she felt from Janet’s announcement of her impending rape.  As Roberto kneeled behind her and John pulled Zatanna up off the floor, Sue nodded to the girl secured tightly on the Jessica machine with straps over her ankles, upper calves, waist, and neck—the blonde college student’s face was filled with fascination as clicking and whirring sounds announced an activated spit propeller.  “Take me if you must, Roberto, but don’t expect me to enjoy myself as I watch that girl get her guts filled with sharpened steel,” Sue spat in disgust.  Sue desperately hoped that Roberto would change his mind, and she wouldn’t have to go home to her husband feeling like she had cheated on him yet again, but as she heard the boy unzip and he pushed her torso towards the floor and placed his penis’s glans against her sex, hope fled away.

            “Oh, you don’t have to enjoy yourself, sweetie!” Jill replied as she suddenly knelt in front of Sue and began feeling up the blonde cow’s breasts as she held the heroine’s upper torso off of the cement floor, giggling as both Sue and Janet jumped at the sound of her voice.  “That’s Roberto’s job!  So this is what breasts feel like after they’ve been milked dry.  Tell you what, if you can squirt just enough more to give me a taste, I won’t let Roberto hack these tits off your chest with a meat cleaver after he forces you to pillow them on the counter behind you—once he’s done bigging you, naturally.  Thank god, I don’t have to worry about getting preggars now!”

            Sue groaned in disappointment as she felt Roberto slide his manhood into her and begin fornication, and then blushed beet red and moaned softly as Jill twisted her body to lie on her back with her head under the heroine’s chest.  Sue found the idea of nursing a fully grown adult revolting, but felt relieved as well, for the slurping sounds the college student was making seemed to indicate she was getting a taste of Sue’s milk.  Evidently, Sue would not feel the bite of a meat cleaver just yet.

            Janet giggled softly as she watched the play of emotions on Sue’s face, and listened to Zatanna as she began to sigh softly as she found pleasure from John’s ample manhood as he took her from behind.  The spunky heroine grinned as she thought, ‘Sometimes life really blows, and then sometimes there are times like this!’  Janet smiled up to Wanda, who also seemed to be enjoying herself as she watched two more of her fellow heroines get taken from behind.  ‘This day will be perfect if that big-breasted witch gets to pay her dues as well!” Janet thought gleefully.  Janet didn’t feel even a smidgen of guilt for having these thoughts, for her friends had obviously enjoyed themselves when it had been herself getting taken from behind earlier.

            Chatter from the crowd near the Jessica machine brought Janet’s attention back to the blonde—the girl had twisted her head as much as her neck restraints allowed in an attempt to see the progress of the steel spear that was now nearing her vulva, and the look on her face was one of excited anticipation rather than the expected trepidation.  “How close is the spit tip to my lower lips?” Stella asked frantically.  “Is my cold-steel final fuck about to begin?  Come on people!  Give a girl a little information, PLEASE!”  As several students answered at the same time, the blonde looked a little confused, but then replied, “Oh…GOOD!  I’ve been looking forward to this ever since I watched my dad hand spit my little sister, Linda!”

            A gasp of surprise followed by a mournful groan to her right brought Janet’s attention back to Sue.  Roberto was fully engaged in avid intercourse with the blonde heroine, but that wasn’t the reason for the groan—the groan was Sue’s response to Jill, who had pushed herself further under the older girl and was undoubtedly adding her tongue to the heroine’s troubles.  Janet knew that Sue, like Wanda, was a dedicated heterosexual, and was likely feeling completely debased by the girl nuzzling her vulva in public.  To add to Sue’s consternation, Roberto seemed to be turned on by Jill’s ploy as he exclaimed, “That’s it Jill, let’s big this big-titted blonde together!  Take turns tonguing her clit and sucking on my balls.  With any luck, we will give her a whole litter of piglets to turn over to an Orphanage!”

            Janet didn’t have time to laugh at her friend’s predicament—or feel sorry for her.  A gasp from the Jessica machine announced to the room that Stella could feel cold steel between her labia.  As Janet looked over to the blonde, the girl was grinning from ear-to-ear, and seemed to be trying to rotate her hips so that she could get more friction from the spit tip as it pushed forward towards her vagina.  She heard John hiss softly, “Look at my cousin, Zatanna, and imagine that my big, long cock is cold steel pushing slowly into you.  Imagine that my inward thrusts will never end, until my dickhead begins to pry your mouth open from within.  Doesn’t the idea of getting impaled through your pussy turn you on?”

            Zatanna moaned softly and then replied, “No…not that much…but I will admit…I’m beginning to enjoy…you inside me.  Please try not to cum…too soon!  I think I might manage…a climax…after all.”

            As the spit pushed deeper into Stella’s vagina, eliciting a long, loud scream of orgasmic triumph from the blonde, Sue began cooing softly.  The blonde heroine’s reddened, teary-eyed face told of the betrayed she felt by her body’s response to the twin assault on her sex. 

Janet guessed that both of her friends’ unplanned sexual escapades would end in forced climaxes.  She hoped they could bring themselves to enjoy the moment, as she had earlier—the alternative was to feel guilty where no guilt was earned.

            The seemingly unending sighs of climax from the spitting machine abruptly became gasps of pain, bringing Janet’s attention back to Stella.  The blonde was grinning like a Cheshire cat despite the intense pain she must have been feeling, and she stridently announced, “THERE!  I think the spit tip…just pushed through my cervix!  I’m about to become…meat on a metal stick…boys and girls!  This is way too much fun…to only do once…and yes…people…I know…you only…get one turn…on Jessica!”

            As the blonde seemed to relax to concentrate on the sensations she was feeling as the sharp metal tip pushed into her intestines, Janet concentrated on listening to the slapping, squishing, and slurping sounds caused by the intercourse taking place on either side of her, and on the elicited moans and sighs of sexual pleasure.  Janet grinned!  This time she was only an observer of the dances of love.  Her friends seemed to be enjoying themselves now.  Even the frown on Sue’s face that had formed when Jill had gotten bisexually adventurous, had been replaced by one of pleasant concentration.

            Minutes went by as the love dances continued, and then Stella announced from the back of Jessica, “OH…YEAH…It looks…like it’s time…for my…breast injections!  Maybe I’ll finally…get to wear…C-cups!”  As Janet looked over to the spitting machine, she could see a girl kneeling on either side of the blonde, positioning her nipples over the slowly protruding injection needles.  Stella let out two sharp gasps and then chirped, “Oh…that’s hot…the feeling…of herbs and cooking oil…being injected…into my boobies.  OH GOD!  I’m glad…I did this!”

            Janet observed that, due to Stella’s relatively small cup size, it wasn’t long before the injection needles retracted, somehow sensing the girl’s breasts were ready for live-roasting.  The blonde went back to issuing low moans and groans that told of the pain she was feeling as the sharp spear pushed upward through her chest, but the look of fascination never left her face.  The sounds of sex on either side of Janet continued without pause, but now there seemed to be a touch of urgency in the moans and sighs coming from four of the five people engaged in fornication.  The boys were likely trying to time their climaxes, as well as those of the heroines in front of them, with the culmination of the spitting.  As Janet listened to the desperation in their voices, Janet doubted they could last that long.  Then Stella began gagging as the spit tip began traveling up her esophagus and into her throat, and both men began humping frantically into the girls in front of them.

            Sue climaxed first, her staccato sighs almost drowning out the gasps from the crowd around the Jessica, and the announcement that the spit tip could be seen between the blonde’s teeth, forcing her mouth open.  Roberto roared as he spewed his seed into Sue, “This will knock you up, you big-titted blonde!”  Jill quickly scooted out from under Sue, and, with juices from both sexes coating her face, raced over to get a better view of the spitting.

            Janet grinned as John screamed, “Imagine, Zatanna, that my cock is a spit making you ready for live roasting!  Wouldn’t you just love that!  Cum for me if you can girl, knowing that I’m going to spray my seed into your ripe uterus any second, bigging you with certainty.  Are you ready to carry my piglet, Zatanna?  Oh…SHIT…I’m cumming!”

            As John gasped in orgasm, Zatanna sighed loudly in climax and then shrilled, “Impregnate me if you can, John!  Spit me if you must!  So be it if fate demands such!  But shut the fuck up and let me enjoy my cum!”  Three heroines and two exhausted men broke into laughter, laughter that didn’t end until they saw Stella, still squirming on her spit with her ankles now secured to the tail end of the metal skewer, pass in front of them, carried by pit attendants evidently called to duty by Cheryl.

            Janet started as Bill Jennings announced from a position in front of Wanda, “Breaks over, boys and girls!  Stop worrying about the live roaster—she’ll be basking in the warm glow of the coals in no time at all.  It’s time to return your attention to your teachers’ at-risk breasts.  The next demonstration is going to be a classic.  It will be a competition, with two pairs of balloons at risk of being popped at the same time.  Will one set be harvested and one set spared, or will I add four lumps of breast bacon to my larder in one fell swoop?  Are any of you interested in seeing that?”  Bill roared in laughter as every untied right arm in the room reached for the ceiling amid raucous chatter and excited laughter.

 

Chapter 19. The Competition

 

“Okay, boys and girls, thanks for retaking your observation positions so quickly,” Bill Jennings called out loudly from his position in front the milking stalls.  “Before we get started, I would like to point out the obvious.  Another of you girls, as I predicted, gave into Jessica’s seduction and got herself spitted.  That is understandable, as scientists have determined that seventeen percent of females find the girl trap’s temptation to be nearly irresistible—the lesson you need to learn from this women’s life-preparation class is that you won’t live until your number comes up in The Lottery if you can’t learn to resist Jessica’s allure.  However, to be truthful, in the case we just witnessed, the girl wasn’t trapped—that appeared to be a voluntary full conversion, so we can check that coarse element off of our very full field-trip curriculum.”

“Now, let’s get ready to begin the next debreasting demonstration,” Bill called out loudly with excitement evident in his voice.  “As you can see, I’ve set up two identical complex stands in front of our final three debreasting demonstration teachers.  We’re going to give two teachers at once a chance to lose their breasts for your educational benefit, boys and girls.  Will the teachers who ended up with the cubes numbered three and four step forward to stand behind the debreasting device nearest them?”

Bill watched as the raven-haired Oriental girl with perfect pinkish-brown-tipped C-cups stood behind the stand nearer the back of the room, her light brown eyes still filled with nervous acquiescence, while the green-eyed redhead with perfect brownish-pink-tipped D-cups stood behind the debreasting device nearest the room’s entry door, to the left of the Oriental girl and on the right side as viewed by the audience.  Both girls stood with their arms tied behind their backs displaying cleanly shaven vulva’s and erect nipples, though Bill thought the redhead’s silver-dollar-sized areolae made her breasts more attractive than the Oriental girl’s, both aesthetically and culinarily.  As the redhead looked on with intense interest filling her eyes, Bill walked over to stand before the raven-haired girl and instructed, “Tell us your name, what subject you teach at university, and your age, Miss, and then I’ll strap you into your debreasting device before giving your fellow teacher her chance to do the same.”

“Yes, Sir, Mr. Jennings,” the raven-haired girl replied with obvious nervousness.  “I am Tonika Odo, I teach Business Administration, and I am twenty-six years old.  My fate, at least my bosom’s fate, is in your hands, sir!”

“A pretty name, Tonika, for an even prettier girl,” Bill Jennings replied loudly enough for everyone to hear, but with a calm and friendly tone.  “I would have guessed your age at closer to twenty-two, and would have been wrong, just as you are wrong about the fate of your breasts being in my hands.  You, ultimately, will determine whether or not your breast bacon gets harvested today, but I’ll explain that after I have both of you restrained into the devices before you.”

 

Tonika felt confused by the dairy owner’s reply, and examined the device before her.  She was standing on one side of a three-foot-by-three-foot metal square placed on the floor.  On her, the rear, side of the square, there were metal brackets protruding upward to the left and right of her feet and parallel to a round device, set just inside the edge of the metal, which the Oriental girl recognized immediately as an orgasmatron beam emitter.  As the lovely, black-haired girl watched Mr. Jennings’ blonde assistant hand him two lengths of twine, she knew her feet were about to be tied to the metal brackets, forcing her to stand with her legs spread wide over the pleasure beam emitter. 

Three posts rose vertically from the metal square, positioned just forward of the orgasmatron emitter which she straddled.  The familiar twin hoops, with leather straps hanging from each hoop’s outer side, protruded upward from a short horizontal bar near the top of the center post—Tonika knew that as soon as the man had finished tying her ankles, and he was already working on her second, he would be adjusting the hoops to match the height and width of her breasts, pull her titties through the hoops, and use the straps to secure her chest tightly into place. 

Secured to the forward side of the outer posts, was a strange mechanism that consisted of two short cylinder devices about two feet below the bottom of the hoops, one looking like a short, thick penlight and the other open-ended—some sort of receiver.  A vertical rod extended about 18-inches downward from the light-like cylinder to Tonika’s left, to a bracket attached to a horizontal rod centered in what looked to be a gear in a groove in the center of the post; the horizontal rod was connected to a round device that was likely a motor on the outer end of the horizontal rod near the gear wheel.  The horizontal rod extended over to the other outer vertical post, to a bracket slotted into that post’s central groove that was designed to hold the assembly into horizontal position while allowing the assembly to move vertically—naturally, that bracket had a vertical rod which extended vertically upward to the receiver-like cylinder.

As Mr. Jennings adjusted the hoops, pulled her breasts through their centers one at a time, and then stepped behind her to cinch the leather straps tightly around her back, Tonika examined the tray-shaped square positioned just forward of the vertical posts over the larger square metal base, and noted the electrical cord that ran from the metal debreasting device to a floor socket.  As the Oriental girl watched the man step back in front of her and tug on her nipples to make sure her breasts were fully through the hoops, she had to admit that she still didn’t understand how the device she was now fully restrained to would work.  Tonika mewed as Mr. Jennings knelt between her legs, spread her labium, and focused the orgasmatron beam emitter on her swollen clitoris; this was followed, naturally, by her having to rotate her hips so he could make sure the emitter was properly focused.

 

Bill Jennings smiled his most friendly smile at the lovely Japanese girl before announcing, “You are ready, Miss Odo!”  As the restrained girl shyly smiled back, Bill stepped sideways to stand before the redhead and announced, “It’s your turn to tell us your name, what subject you teach at university, and your age, Miss, and then I’ll strap you into your debreasting device as well.”

You bet, Mr. Jennings,” the redhead replied with a gleam in her green eyes and a sultry look on her face, “I’m Miranda Baker, and I teach creative writing.  I’m twenty-two years old, and have already sold three hologram plays to the broadcasting networks.  I get my inspiration from my own life experiences, so I suspect you can imagine what my next play is going to be about.  The question remaining is, will it be the story of a girl who triumphs over life’s challenges, or will the play be a tragedy?”

“As I told Tonika, Miranda, the ending of this story will largely be up to you,” Bill Jennings replied softly.  Then he chuckled before continuing, “One of you may escape this demonstration with unpopped balloons, though I must admit, the sight of two sets of such appetizing breasts makes me reluctant to hope that happens.  Let’s get those lovely D-cups of yours ready for harvesting, if that is to be how your story ends, shall we Miss Baker?”  Bill watched the redhead nod, and then went quickly to work restraining her in the same fashion as the Oriental girl.

When Bill had finished with the restraints, made sure that Miranda’s breasts were protruding through the hoops to the fullest extent possible, and focused the girl’s pleasure beam emitter, he chortled, “Okay, boys and girls and at-risk sows, it’s time for me to explain the nature of this demonstration, and the competition it entails!  Between each girl’s widespread legs is an orgasmatron beam emitter.  After I insert one of these orgasm detectors,” Bill held up two identical phallus-shaped devices, “into each girl’s vagina, I will simultaneously turn on the two pleasure-beam emitters.  If one of the girls climaxes, or lets the orgasm detector drop out of her vagina, this will be turned on for that girl’s stand only.”

Bill pointed at the light-like cylinder on Miranda’s frame and explained, “It’s a laser-slicer projector, and the purpose of the hollow cylinder on the other frame post is to dissipate the laser beam.  Once the laser is activated, the motor and wheel-gear near the laser projector will cause the horizontal laser beam two-feet below and barely forward of the base of the breast hoops to rise at a rate of six-inches-per-minute until reaching the bottom of the breast hoops, after which the rate of ascent will be slowed to one-inch-per minute.  Once the laser slicer has finished its work, the severed breast bacon will topple from the climaxed girl’s chest onto this meat tray.  The mass of harvested breast meat landing on the climaxed girl’s meat tray prior to the other girl’s climaxing, will deactivate the other girl’s laser and end the demonstration with only one set of balloons popped.”

Bill smiled at the class, and then turned to grin at the two teachers strapped into the debreasting devices before continuing with his explanation, “Thus if one girl can keep from climaxing, or dropping her orgasm detector, for ten to fourteen minutes longer than the other girl, she will get to walk away a breasted woman.  However, if the second girl climaxes, or drops her detector, before the first girl’s breasts hit the meat tray, her bacon will be slowly lasered off as well, and will also be used to make breast bacon sandwiches for my club’s customers!”  Bill walked around to the back of the frames, inserted the orgasm detectors, first into Miranda’s, and then into Tonika’s vagina, flipped switches on the side of each center post simultaneously, and proclaimed, “Let the contest begin!”

 

Tonika gasped with embarrassment as she felt Mr. Jennings insert the cold, metal, phallus-shaped, orgasm detector into her moist vagina and then moaned with apprehension as she watched him flip the switch on her center post, knowing that switch had brought the bacon trap she had been strapped into to life.  At first the Japanese girl was afraid the orgasm detector might drop out of her sex, and instinctively tightened down around it with muscles she was barely aware she had; then she knew that she was worrying unnecessarily.  Her sex was much too tight for there to be any chance of the phallus dropping out no matter how wet she became—Tonika was nearly a virgin.  The raven-haired girl wasn’t a near-virgin because she didn’t like sex—she had in fact very much enjoyed intercourse the two times she had let her high school boyfriend bed her—she was a near-virgin because she was a cautious girl who understood that men were the principle danger to a post-high-school girl’s continued existence.

The Oriental girl moaned softly as she felt her sex reacting to the pleasure beams bathing her clitoris.  Tonika suddenly realized her face was filled with joy and frowned with embarrassment.  One result of her cautiousness was a lack of experience in worldly things—while many of her friends had told her how wonderful the orgasmatron emitters were, after their otherwise uneventful visits to debreasting clubs, this was the Japanese girl’s first taste of the insidious, yet wonderful, sexual device. 

A sheepish grin replaced her frown, as Tonika thought, ‘No matter how careful a girl is, she must work, and therefore cannot avoid men and their associated risks altogether.  Work has put me into this position where I was forced to allow a man to bind me into a device designed to slice off a girl’s breasts while others cheer.  Perhaps caution is a foolish way to live life, for while one may live in relative safety for days, weeks, months, or even years longer than her peers, she experiences less of life so perhaps lives life less fully.  Is one approach to life wiser than another?’        

Tonika moaned more loudly and closed her eyes as desperation swept through her mind.  The intensity of the orgamatron beams seemed to be increasing as time passed—the Japanese girl knew that, in this case, what seemed to be happening was in fact reality.  The man had said that this was a competition to see which girl could avoid forced climax the longest.  That meant having the orgasmatron emitters increase their pleasure beam intensity as the competition proceeded was only logical—in order for something to be a competition there had to be a loser, and the increasing intensity of the pleasure beams ensured that a climax would, sooner or later, be forced from one of the girls. 

A competition also normally implied that there would be a winner, but in this case, the girl who outlasted her competitor in avoiding a forced climax, would also have to avoid orgasm while the climaxed girl was slowly debreasted.  Tonika knew that the longer both girls resisted giving into climax, the more certain it was that the competition would end with both girls breastless.  The only hope was for one of the girls to seek climax as rapidly as possible, intentionally giving the other girl a chance to keep her breasts—it would be a dishonor to her father for Tonika to stop competing, even to help another girl, so the Japanese girl did her best to avoid climax.  She could only hope the other girl, Miranda, would reason with the same logic, but not feel the same dishonor in surrender.

 

Miranda moaned softly and grinned with obvious pleasure, thinking, ‘SWEET!  This is even better than a debreasting booth game!  I get to enjoy the orgasmatron beams for more than my final booth minute, and might get to play the booth game again tonight anyhow.’  Miranda glanced out to the crowd, seeing the fascination filling the faces of nearly every teacher and student, and then twisted her head to look at Tonika who wore thoughtful desperation on her face.  ‘I can outlast her!’ Miranda told herself.  ‘I’ve experienced pleasure being beamed onto my clitoris before and I’ll bet she hasn’t!  Although, during those booth stints, I was seeking orgasms from the beams and now I must avoid climaxing, my experience should give me an edge!’

The redhead moaned softly again, and began swiveling her hips in a circular pattern.  Miranda knew this wouldn’t take her clitoris out of the orgasmatron emitter’s erotic glow, but it was giving herself something to do and helping to take her mind off of her libido.  The young writer desperately wanted to win this competition and leave the dairy carrying breasts on her chest.  She wanted to keep her breasts despite the fact that she would risk losing them again that very night in a booth game, and despite the fact that she would continue her weekly visits to the debreasting club with her friends until she ultimately did get her breasts poached—she hoped she would drink many free Lactic Blasters and steal many free orgasmatron-induced climaxes from Final Fantasy before that night came.

Miranda smiled as she dreamed of a party-filled future, moaning softly in sexual pleasure.  ‘I can do this,’ she thought, ‘the pleasure beams were much more intense than these presently are on my first night in a booth, when I selected the guillotine blade as the method my balloons would get popped with if someone slapped my button.  I barely managed a climax that night, when I wanted a climax, so I can hold off now.’  In truth, Miranda WAS a bit worried.  She could tell the beam intensity was being increased at regular intervals.  She continued to swivel her hips, and looked out to the milking stalls to give her something to think about.  Her gaze settled on the auburn-haired girl in the front row of stalls, and she marveled at the quantity of liquid in the milk-storage container next to the girl who was watching the competition with obvious interest.  ‘Damn, that’s a lot of milk produced from knockers about the same size as my own,’ Miranda mused.  ‘Maybe I should give volunteer milk cow a try and earn a little extra money!’

The redhead gasped in fear, and clamped her muscles down around her orgasm detector.  She couldn’t see the device, but was sure she had just felt it begin to slide downwards towards the floor.  The swiveling of her hips had ended, and Miranda’s full attention was once again on her sex organs.  It had suddenly occurred to her that maybe concentrating on things other than the competition—the competition to not to be forced into climaxing OR drop the phallus in her vagina before the other girl—wasn’t a good strategy.  ‘Easy girl!’ the readhead told herself.  ‘There really isn’t any pressure.  Resist climaxing, if you can, and keep your breasts so that you can use them in other games at other venues, but don’t do anything stupid—like dropping your orgasm detector.  So what if you get climaxed and your bacon gets harvested?  Your balloons will surely get popped one of these days, and if today is the day your knockers get knocked off, so be it!’

 

Wanda watched the redhead’s orgasm detector begin to slide out of her vagina, followed by the look of fear that replaced the smile that the girl had been wearing.  ‘Close!’ the auburn-haired Avenger thought.  ‘If she hadn’t caught herself losing that phallus for a split second longer, the laser beam would be on its way up towards the bases of her D-cups.  I wonder if Janet, Sue, and Zatanna are finding this demonstration as fascinating as I am.  Maybe I should challenge them to this game, the four of us all with our breasts at risk at the same time.  That would be hot, even though I would surely be climaxed early and one of the losers!  Dream on!  Sue is much too conservative to agree to something like risking all our breasts at once.  I’m lucky she seems to be agreeable to continue taking one-girl-at-a-time turns in the debreasting booths!’

The auburn-haired heroine glanced at the more than seven-and-a-half liters of milk in the container beside her, and then back out to the debreasting demonstration.  She slowly examined each girl, trying to guess who would ultimately lose the competition.  Her choice wavered from the redhead, as she realized the redhead seemed to have her orgasm detector secured in her vagina now, to the Oriental girl, whose look of desperate discomfort seemed to increase second-by-second, back to the redhead, whose moans now carried the undeniable elements of sexual need.  As seconds became minutes, Wanda found herself continually changing her guesses, and finally had to admit that whichever girl lost, it would be a surprise to her.

 

Tonika struggled desperately to control her own libido—she wanted to give into the climax she felt so close to flooding through her sex, but she wanted to win and watch the redhead get climaxed and then debreasted even more.  She could tell from Miranda’s sensual sighs and moans that the big-titted girl was close to losing control and accepting an orgasm forced upon her body by the insidious pleasure beams whose intensity had been increased considerably since the competition had begun many minutes earlier.  

The Oriental girl took great pride in her self-control, and wanted badly to make her father proud of her performance on this day of unexpected danger.  Tonika wanted to return home to her father, who lived a simple life on the outskirts of the city, and tell him of this competition in which her breasts had been at risk of being harvested by strangers.  The Japanese girl wanted to be able to tell her father of this experience with breasts still on her chest.  Perhaps, if the fates allowed this to come true, Tonika would offer to give up her breast bacon for her father’s larder—better bacon lumps in her father’s pantry than thinly sliced meat on sandwiches served to customers in a stranger’s nightclub.

Tonika heard a mournful moan, and tears filled her eyes as she recognized her own voice.  Her sex burned with undeniable need for climatic release!  She heard the redhead beside her gasp, and through tears and half-closed eyelids, the Japanese girl saw hope flood into Miranda’s gleaming green eyes.  Tonika knew that it was the look on her own face, and the way her own body was quivering in its restraints that gave the redhead hope.  In that moment, she knew she had brought shame on her father’s house, and that she was about to lose this competition and have her breasts lasered off her chest!  Tonika threw her head back and stared upward at the dairy’s ceiling as she sighed loudly in orgasm.

The Oriental girl sighed in orgasm for what seemed like an eternity before she finally ran out of air, and the sounds of forced climax paused.  Tonika Odo stared downward to verify what she already knew—a horizontal laser beam was now rising upwards towards the bases of her breasts.  The Japanese girl began moaning in fearful anticipation accompanied by sexual bliss.  She tried to force herself to relax and take this sordid setback in stride—there was nothing she could do to avert her imminent debreasting, so she might as well embrace the situation and accept the loss of her C-cups with dignity. 

 

Miranda tried not to let the jubilation she was feeling show on her face as she stared unblinkingly at the laser beam slowly rising under Tonika’s breasts.  The redhead didn’t feel sorry for the Japanese girl—instead she wished the girl many pleasant orgasms and a memorable experience as her balloons were popped.  To Miranda, losing one’s breasts wasn’t a disaster—it was merely an inevitable part of life, which one delayed for as long as possible.  Suddenly aware of the heat building in her own loins again, the redhead found herself mentally reviewing the orgasm aversion techniques she had been taught in school.  As long as Tonika still carried breasts on her chest, Miranda’s breasts were in jeopardy, and if her own balloons were going to be popped this day, she preferred that the popping occurred later at Final Fantasy while her friends watched.

Two minutes later, the laser beam now halfway to the bases of the quaking Oriental girl’s breasts, Miranda felt more in control of her libido than she had been for many minutes.  Tonika seemed to be embracing her fate much better now, and, although tears streamed down her face, she seemed to be climaxing almost continually from the pleasure beams bathing her sex.  The redhead wished that she could see better—that the competition had been conducted with the two girls facing each other—but she understood the demonstration was being made for the students in the audience and not for the teachers being used in the demonstration itself.  She would have to hope she made it through the demonstration without losing her own breasts—that accomplished she could watch the debreastings at Final Fantasy from the dance floor as often as she wanted to!

Miranda watched without blinking as the laser beam continued to close towards Tonika’s boobs.  She herself was enjoying the pleasure beams on her sex, and moaning softly with interest in her green eyes, but the Oriental girl was sighing loudly in sexual release while watching the glowing horizontal beam that would leave her breastless rise upwards with terror in her light-brown eyes.  The redhead smiled—Tonika might be thinking that getting her breasts poached was the end of the world now, but Miranda bet the girl would be bragging to her friends about this event within a few short days.  The redhead felt sure of this—few of her own many friends still carried breasts and none that did not seemed bitter about being breastless! 

The redhead looked on as Tonika grew more stoic as the bright red beam of light approached her breasts—the sight made Miranda hot, and she didn’t try to hide that fact.  Then, the Oriental girl screamed in pain and Miranda saw faint whiffs of smoke rising from the bases of the girl’s boobs.  The redhead almost climaxed immediately, and began gasping as she fought for control of her own libido while she watched Tonika struggle to cope with the advent of pain and the certainty of fate. 

 

Tonika had been watching the horizontal laser beam for nearly four minutes before she felt the searing pain that marked the beginning of her debreasting.  It had been a bitter battle to force her numbed mind to accept the inevitability of what was going to happen to her once she had allowed the climax to be ripped from her loins.  The Japanese girl felt she had won that battle against fear, and told herself she would also conquer the pain and loss that was now being heaped upon her body and mind.  She choked off the scream that told the room of the pain she was feeling and tried to concentrate on the pleasure being beamed into her sex as she watched the slow surgery on her tender C-cup breasts.  Seconds later, the Oriental girl sighed in climax and grinned at her small victory.

A minute later, the searing pain had increased, but the Japanese girl still wore a grim smile.  She had suddenly realized that, by using a laser to slice off her breasts, Mr. Jennings was saving her from the sight of her own blood as her chest was permanently flattened.  Tonika also realized that the orgasmatron beam emitters had also been stepped up to their maximum intensity.  This made it easier for the Oriental girl to divert her attention from the painful protests her appendages were making as they were slowly being killed, to the orgasmic pleasure she was given as a reward for participating in this sordid demonstration of man’s power over womankind.  Tonika was thankful for the increased pleasure beam intensity—she doubted Miranda felt the same—the redheads’s suddenly desperate moans of unwanted pleasure verified that the two orgasmatrons’ intensity settings were linked to each other.

Soon, Tonika could see that her tender balloons were half popped.  She marveled at how well she was managing the pain from her chest that remained at an incredibly intense level as the demonstration proceeded.  The Oriental girl also marveled at the multiple orgasms that had already been ripped from her loins by the orgasmatron beams, and even more so that the redhead’s desperate gasps were subsiding as she seemed to be regaining control of her urges to climax.  Tonika thought, ‘I truly hope that Miranda can hold out for a few short minutes more, and keep her breasts if that is what she wishes.  It would serve little purpose to demonstrate debreasting by laser slicer to the students using two teachers rather than just one.’

As the minutes passed, and the laser had sliced upward through the bulk of the nerves terminating in the nipples at the end of the Japanese girl’s breasts, the pain became more manageable, which the texture of her sighs conveyed to the observers in the room.  Tonika smiled at the students watching her with looks of fascination and, yes, even envy, and then blushed as more sighs of pleasure were forced from her throat and she became aware of her orgasmic juices dribbling down the inside of her thighs.  Blushing, the oriental girl lowered her eyes from the students back to her breasts, just as the last bit of air rushed out of her balloons.  The gasp of surprise which she issued as she watched her fleshy orbs tumble from her chest was largely inaudible over Miranda’s voice.

 

Miranda had watched with unblinking eyes and obvious anticipation as Tonika’s laser beam had nearly reached the apex of her fleshy orbs, fighting desperately against the climax she had been on the verge of giving into for several minutes.  ‘Only a few more seconds,’ the redhead told herself, ‘and my boobies are free for me to wager on my own terms, instead of being used to demonstrate a debreasting method to a group of college students!’  Miranda smiled broadly as she looked at the Japanese girl’s breasts hanging by a few shreds of skin.  This, the coup de grace, was her favorite part of watching a girl get debreasted, and the redhead hoped she could keep herself from cheering when the girl’s bacon became fully poached.  She couldn’t help it that she found the sight of another girl’s breasts biting the dust extremely sensual.  Then Tonika’s breasts were free-falling through air, and sound was indeed shrilling from Miranda’s throat.

Horror filled the redhead’s face as she realized she was hearing her own staccato sigh of climax, not a triumphant cheer, and then she heard the wet double plop on the meat tray at Tonika’s feet.  “NO!” Miranda screamed.  “I can’t have climaxed a split second before my breasts were vouchsafed!”  Crestfallen, the redhead glanced down to see the rising red horizontal laser beam below her breasts that told the room she had failed to control her libido just short of the time the rules of the competition demanded of her. 

Miranda shook her head in disbelief and then, wearing a silly grin on her face, announced, “Oh well!  I was going to choose the laser beam option had I gotten to take that preplanned booth stint at Final Fantasy this evening.  Maybe I would have gotten my button slapped tonight anyhow, Mr. Jennings, and you’re just getting to collect my breast bacon a little early.”  The redhead smiled as the room laughed, and then turned to see Tonika’s reaction.  Miranda’s smile became a frown as she realized the Oriental girl was moaning from the pain issuing from her flattened chest, and staring in disbelief at the wounds left where breasts once protruded.

“Hey, Cheryl isn’t it, can we get Tonika released, or at least treated with those magic bandages of yours?” the redhead asked loudly, looking at the head waitress across the room.  “There isn’t any reason to leave her moaning in pain for the next ten or twelve minutes while I get to enjoy my balloon popping finale, is there?”  Miranda watched the blonde look to her boss standing near the demonstration area for directions, saw Mr. Jennings nod and mouth ‘bandage her’, and then smiled as the blonde rushed across the room with two flat wrappers in hand.  Soon Cheryl had two round bandages on Tonika’s chest, and Mr. Jennings had switched off the Oriental girl’s orgasmatron.  Miranda frowned as it became obvious Tonika was going to be left strapped into the debreasting machine until the demonstration was fully over, but then smiled as she realized the girl’s moaning had ended.  At least Miranda was going to be able to enjoy her own debreasting experience without distraction!

The redhead gasped softly and grinned grimly as searing fire from the bases of her D-cups suddenly announced the advent of her debreasting.  “WHOOOHOOO!” Miranda screamed, glancing upwards from the beam slicing into her own breast meat to the mesmerized audience before her.  “That hurts so good, it’s going to make me cum again!”  True to her word, the redhead began issuing another long staccato sigh of orgasm, as she lowered her eyes to track the progress of the rising laser slicer through her own girl meat.

Several minutes later, Miranda was moaning in agony between sighs of sexual bliss as the laser beam began slicing through the cores of nerves in the centers of her breasts that led to her turreted nipples.  For the first time, the redhead was teary eyed, and struggling to maintain her composure.  However, she knew that, in another minute, the protests of agony from her ravaged mammary glands would begin to subside.  She knew she had less than a handful of minutes to endure—no, savor—her debreasting experience.  Miranda knew that she was tasting a part of life that a girl could only taste once, and if she was going to write plays about it, she would need to relish this event as if being fed a culinary delight.  Miranda grinned broadly as inspiration came to the writer in her, and sighed loudly as climax washed through her sex.

As seconds became minutes, and agony subsided to become searing pain, the redhead immersed herself in her breasts’ final moments as living tissue.  She drank in the pleasure flowing from her sex to her brain.  She memorized the looks of envy and fascination that filled the faces of the other girls in the room, and the wanton lust on the faces of the boys before her.  “WHOOOHOOO!” Miranda yelled at the top of her lungs as she stared back down at her prized balloons.  “I’m almost popped, boys and girls!  I can’t wait to hear my girls yell jubilantly back at me with their cries of ‘PLOP’ as they finally earn their freedom from my chest!  OH DAMN!  I’m cumming again!”     

Miranda issued a long, hoarse, triumphant gasp of orgasm as she watched her D-cups hanging from her chest by thin patches of skin at their upper arcs, and then tumbling downwards as those patches were parted by the glowing red beam.  The redhead smiled in fascination as she sighed in climax and saw her large, rotund boobs somersaulting, as if in slow motion, towards the meat tray below her.  She immersed herself in satisfaction as both breasts landed nipples up and roared up at her with loud, wet plops!  “POPPED!” Miranda shrilled.  “The air in my big balloons is all gone, boys and girls!  My boobies have been poached and converted into bacon.  My melons are part of the worldwide food chain and waiting to be cooked and eaten!  Thank you for making me part of this demonstration, Mr. Jennings!  That was a way hotter experience than most of the debreasting booth stints I’ve witnessed.  Wait until you see my next hologram play, which will be entitled, ‘Breast-Fall—the Meat Revolution Begins’!”

 

Chapter 20. More Fun and Games—Well, Fun for Some

 

“The meat revolution!” Sue hissed softly wearing a quirky smile as she watched Cheryl treat Miranda’s chest wounds while Bill set Tonika free of her debreasting device.  “Revolution born in a dairy full of human milk cows and funded with breasts tumbling from girls’ chests onto a cold cement floor!  Bill has really gone and done it now.  This is the sort of thing that could begin in a small room, say a dairy, and then sweep across the world like a raging tempest.  No revolution is more powerful than the idea that sparked it, and, strangely enough, the idea that girls should control the fate of their own meat is coming from a man named Bill Jennings who makes his living from turning girls’ breasts into bacon sandwiches!”

Zatanna nervously licked her lips as she watched Sue shake her head in disbelief while the man she was talking about freed the redheaded writer, who might be the first to deliver that cry for revolt to the public at large, from the machine that had just turned her breasts into sandwich meat.  “Yes, Sue,” the Justice Leaguer replied softly, “it seems we were not the only girls listening to Bill’s response to Marcia’s observation about the lack of change in the world government’s treatment of women as material resources rather than sentient beings.  I wonder if Bill has thought about the tendency of revolutionaries to get arrested and silenced by the governments they oppose?   Does our friend have any inkling of the danger he might be placing himself in?”  

“Or the additional danger he might be placing certain time tourists in,” a frowning Janet interjected as she watched Bill wheel the laser slicer assemblages away while Cheryl stacked four lumps of breast bacon on a large silver tray before returning with the tray to her counter.  “We heroines might get noticed if government agents begin paying close attention to Bill’s businesses and the customers who frequent them!  I had been too busy worrying about the boys around me to pick up on the radical nature, from this culture’s perspective, of Bill’s words earlier, but I agree with your points, ladies.  As to the question of Bill’s awareness of the slippery slope he is creating under his own feet, well he is about to start lecturing again, and maybe his words will yield some answers!”  Janet nodded to Bill who had returned to the debreasting demonstration area to stand besides the redhead and Oriental girl who had been comforting each other with hugs, evidently unaware of the bustle around them.

 

Bill Jennings cleared his throat to make sure he had the room’s attention, before saying, “Well now that you are both free of your debreasting devices, Tonika and Miranda, why don’t you rejoin your students and peers in the audience.”  As the two bandaged girls began moving towards the crowd sitting on the dairy floor, Bill called out, “Let’s give these two brave teachers a hand, boys and girls, for putting on such an interesting demonstration for us all, and showing us two very diverse approaches to accepting an involuntary partial donation to the worldwide food chain.  Remember, neither of those ladies volunteered to be in the debreasting candidate lineup—I forced them to become demonstration girls.”  Bill smiled at the loud applause, and when the noise subsided, added, “Partially because of my playing that unpleasant role, Miranda, if you do write your play, I implore you to change the names of this field trip’s sponsor, participants, instructors, and venue!”  Bill chuckled as the audience laughed and Miranda nodded.

“Okay, I think we should have one more class participation event before we let your head teacher, Miss Hunsaker, end your field trip with a real bang,” Bill grinned as he noted the angry stare he was getting from the blonde bombshell in the final position of the demonstration lineup, before adding, “well, a loud double plop at least!”  As the audience roared in laughter, Bill grinned from ear-to-ear.  “Sorry, Miss Hunsaker, I’ll stop teasing now and get on to the class participation event, which will involve three girls AND three boys and, naturally, end in the harvesting of at least one and possibly all three sets of at-risk breasts.  I’ll select the three girls first and then let each girl select the boy she will begin the event paired with.  Will all of the girls who are willing to risk being asked to participate in this event raise their hands?”

Bill chuckled loudly as he watched seventy percent of the girls still carrying breasts on their chest throw their hands up, most with nervous apprehension on their faces, and chortled, “I see most of the girls in this field-trip class have been paying attention and are bright enough to recognize that we are in the involuntary portion of our curriculum.  That means I’m going to pick three girls who don’t have their hands raised to participate in this event, and it would be nice if I could be reasonably sure they had boys with them they would quickly be willing to pair with!”

As the dairy owner began to survey the audience, Janet’s broad grin caught his eye and he watched as she winked and then nodded to the front of the class to his left.  As he brought his gaze to where the spunky heroine had been nodding, he found Jill and her two friends stealthily trying to sneak their arms up into a raised position.  Bill roared with laughter and then quipped, “Thanks for waving your hands to get my attention, girls!  Sometimes I’m blind to the obvious.  You three girls come already paired with boys to participate with you in this event, don’t you?  Very well, stand and take positions in the lineup to Miss Hunsaker’s right.”

Bill watched as Jill and Roberto huddled, with the other two girls and their boyfriends quickly joining in, and the boys did their best to reassure the newly appointed debreasting demonstration girls.  Then, led by Jill, the three girls stood and filed over to stand besides the head teacher as instructed, looking sick with worry despite their boyfriends’ encouragement.  “Thank you girls,” Bill said in his usual calm and friendly demeanor, “and don’t look so unhappy.  This is going to be fun!  You’re going to be demonstrating another of the new private party games that I’ve recently invented, also already for sale at your university book store.  Kim Lee and Valerie both seemed to enjoy the last such demonstration did they not?  Okay, starting with the girl standing next to Miss Hunsaker, please tell us your name, what subject you’re majoring in, age, and then bring the boy you’re going to partner with up to do the same after he has taken a position behind you.”   

As Mr. Jennings nodded at the short-haired blonde with brownish-pink-tipped C-cups, Jill forced her sexiest smile onto her face and announced as sultrily as possible, “I’m Jill Johnston, a Home Economics major, and nineteen years old.”  Jill nodded to Roberto, and then looked into Bill Jennings’ face as she observed.  “Although both Kim Lee and Valerie seemed to be in good spirits at the end of their demonstration, Mr. Jennings, I’m not sure they really ‘enjoyed’ themselves during that demonstration seeing as they both ended up getting their tits destroyed.  What happens if both of my girlfriends and I get our balloons popped demonstrating your party game accessories?”  The girl’s brown eyes below honey-colored bangs were filled with interest and poise.

Bill smiled as he watched a flabbergasted Roberto step behind Jill, and said in his most serious tone, “Well, Miss Johnston, I really had not thought about this until now, but you are correct in pointing out that there is a remote possibility that I will have the good fortune of collecting three sets of breast bacon from you three students.  Such luck should have an outcome, should it not?  I know!  If the three boys participating in this event all manage to harvest the breast bacon before them, they will vouchsafe Miss Hunsaker’s massive chest and the field trip will end with this as its last event!”  Bill chuckled at the sudden hope that filled the head teacher’s eyes and asked, “Does that sound fair, Roberto?  Introduce yourself before you answer the question!”

“Yes sir!” the slim, black-haired Roberto replied quickly with an ever-widening grin on his face and a twinkle in his dark brown eyes.  “I am Roberto Mendez, I am studying Sociology, and I am eighteen years old.  If your larder benefits from our girlfriends all having bad luck, then it only makes sense that Miss Hunsaker should be allowed to keep her big boobies, Mr. Jennings.  However, I would like to point out that our girlfriends losing the tits we guys like to play with is bad luck for us guys too, and we should get something to make up for our loss, shouldn’t we?”  As the Latino boy’s smile grew even wider, he looked at the huge-breasted blonde to his left with laughing eyes as queried, “Would keeping your moneymakers on your chest, and a chance to get to those marriage papers after all, be worth changing us guys’ grades to A’s and letting us gangbang you tonight in celebration, Miss Hunsaker?”

Judy Hunsaker blushed beet red as every eye in the room was suddenly on her.  She was in a desperate position—her breasts likely had no chance of staying on her chest if she didn’t agree to Roberto’s terms, but, if she did as the student asked, her job would likely be lost for changing grades in exchange for a favor, and her papered status would still be in jeopardy if letting the three boys bed her resulted in pregnancy.  The blonde bombshell’s spirit looked crushed as she did the only thing a girl in her position could possible do—she nodded.

Bill Jennings and much of the audience roared in laughter as Roberto’s offer was accepted.  Bill watched as Roberto quickly whispered into Jill’s ear, and the look on her face changed from one of worried disappointment to one of hope, and then as the applause died down, quipped, “Well this event gets more interesting all the time, and I haven’t even put breasts at risk yet!”   Bill nodded to the next student in line, a black girl with long raven-black hair and slightly swooping brownish-tipped D-cups, and said, “Your turn to introduce yourself, Miss, and then bring your chosen boy up to do the same.”

“You got it, Mr. Jennings!” the girl replied in an unusually deep voice and with a calm demeanor.   “My name is Diane Lane, I’m studying to be a dental assistant, and I’m eighteen.  If my big balloons get popped, then I’m fine with Miss Hunsaker keepin’ hers, but that ain’t gonna happen, sis, cause my humpy ain’t tastin’ no sugar that ain’t brown.  Yo, Phillip, get your butt up here and make done with your introducin’!”

A slightly chubby blonde boy with laughing blue eyes hurried up to stand behind Diane and cup a big breast in each of his hands.  He announced with obvious excitement in his voice, “I’m Phil Kevington, and I’m a Psychology major.  I’m nineteen years old.  Sugar baby, Miss Hunsaker only gets to keep those monster tits if all three of you lose yours, so I could pop these balloons if I want, and still not be tempted by ‘white sugar’.  In one of my classes this semester, I learned that debreasted women are more willing to experiment sexually than their breasted counterparts, so I’m sorely tempted….”  As he noted the bored look on Diane’s face, Phillip shrugged his shoulders and asked, “Crap, you’re not buying any part of that windup are you, sweet cheeks?”  The audience laughed loudly as the black girl grinned and shook her head.

As the blue-eyed brunette with shoulder-length hair, who had been playing thoughtfully with the erect pinkish-brown tips of her DD-cups, noticed Mr. Jennings nod to her, she stammered, “I’m…um…Rachel Ashton, and…I…um…am a…um…a Computer Sciences…major.  I’m…um…eighteen, and…um…my boyfriend…who I…um…am…um…pairing with…for…um…this event…is…um…on his way…um…up here now.   You better not let anything happen to my melons, Jonas, or you’re not going to get any tonight, at least not from me!”  The brunette blushed badly as the audience erupted in laughter as her muscular black boyfriend stepped behind her, grinning from ear-to-ear.

“No worries, Rachel, as the one boyfriend up her that already has double D’s to play with, I’m not even tempted by that older sow’s big tits,” the boy exclaimed confidently.  “This here girl in front of me, boys and girls, has nothing to worry about, because I’m Jonas Wilkins and I’m damn tough and more that a little smart too.  Oh yeah, I’m a nineteen-year-old Sociology major.   Let’s hear it, Mr. Jennings!  What’s the game?  What do I got to do to win for my main squeeze, Rachel, here?”

   Bill had to wait for the laughter to die down before he finally replied, “Patience, Jonas, first let me get the girls secured into the devices that will be used to put their breast bacon at risk of being harvested, and then I’ll explain how the devices work, and how our little party game could and will be played.  Let’s get started by tying each girl’s wrists behind her back, and then her elbows together to make her breasts jut out nicely, which I’ll get started doing as soon as my….” 

As the audience roared with laughter, Bill asked, looking at the students in the demonstration lineup, “My assistant is standing right behind me with the needed twine lengths in hand, isn’t she?”  As the three boys and three girls nodded, all with grins on their faces despite the peril the girls were about to be put in, Bill shrugged and held his right hand behind him for the first two lengths of twine.  As Cheryl put the restraining cords in his hand, Bill admitted, “Very efficient work, as always, Cheryl—so efficient it’s making me look a little inefficient.  Oh well, I’ve got thick skin, and you are keeping us on our rather tight schedule.”  Bill shrugged his shoulders again, and quickly completed his twine work with all three girls.

“Okay, now we are ready to put you girls in your debreasting devices,” Bill said calmly in a matter-o-fact tone, “though one or two of you may end this demonstration with your devices unused.  You may have seen me set up the three, low, vertical panels with two curved indentations at their tops near the back corner of the room kitty corner from my assistant’s counter.  I want each of you girls to walk down and kneel behind one of the panels.  Don’t worry!  I’ll be right behind you to secure you into place with the chest straps hanging from the top corners of the panels.”

After filing down in lineup order, Jill, ever one to be the center of attention, switched places with Diane and kneeled behind the center panel.  Examining the stands up close, the equipment seemed to be rather simple in nature, which would make it inexpensive enough to be purchased for party use.  The one-inch thick, wooden vertical panels with their requisite straps were inserted into a battery powered metal frame that had narrow, horizontal support legs extending forwards and backwards on either side.  There were circular holes centered near each end of the support legs that could be used to bolt the panel assembly to the floor and prevent the assembly from being lifted into the air if a girl decided to stand, but Bill hadn’t bothered with this feature knowing all three girls knew he would use one of the many execution devices lining the room to force her into a full conversion to meat if she did so. 

“Okay, girls, I want you kneeling with your knees together and touching the back of panel assembly,” Bill commanded loudly enough for the audience across the room to hear.  “Then lean forward with your backs straight until your lower chests touch the panel with one breast over each curved indentation.  Good!” Bill said encouragingly as all three girls complied, and flipped a switch on the right side of Rachel’s panel stand to cause the vertical panel to rise and push upwards out of the panel stand’s metal collar around the board on which the bases of her breasts were now supported.  Then he used the straps to tightly secure her chest into place and repeated the procedure with the other two girls.

“If you girls examine the tops of your panels, you’ll see that there are round holes in them centered just outside your breast indentations with a deep groove running between the holes,” Bill said calmly, now standing in front of Diane’s stand near the noose in the corner of the room.  “Those holes are where I insert this mechanism,” Bill explained and then, having the good sense to just assume she would be there, turned to take a long but thin and narrow rectangle attached to two rods from Cheryl.  Bill inserted the rods, which extended downward from each end of the long, thin, narrow rectangle, into the holes, and pushed downward until there were two audible clicks.  He then, one at a time, took rod and rectangle assemblies from Cheryl and inserted them into the top of Jill and Rachel’s panels.

Bill pointed to the thin metal rectangle that was now above Rachel’s breasts, and announced loudly, “This is a cutting blade with a razor sharp lower edge.  Momentarily I’ll lower it until it is nearly touching the tops of your breasts, and then I’ll do the same for the other girls.  The cutting blade and rod assembly is very sensitive to horizontal pressure, and if horizontal pressure on the assembly does occur, a spring mechanism in the panel stand will retract the rods, and the blade they are connected to, swiftly and forcefully downward, burying the blade into the groove at the top of the panel and severing the breasts above the panel from the girl’s chest, so don’t any of you girls do anything stupid.” 

Bill quickly flipped a second switch on the side of Rachel’s panel stand, and lowered the blade assembly until the razor edge of the horizontal rectangle nearly touched her skin.  He repeated this procedure with the other two girls, and then walked back to where the boys were still standing while Cheryl placed silver meat trays on the floor in front of each girl’s panel stand.

“Okay, boys, form a line parallel to the girls, with each boy in front of and facing the girl who chose him as partner,” Bill commanded and then watched as the grinning boys complied.  “I hope you boys enjoy the shooting gallery at the carnivals, because that is the nature of the event you are about to be part of.  That’s right!  You each get one of these air-cylinder powered pellet guns to shoot as part of this event!”  The boys were chuckling and beaming with excitement as Bill turned to take air rifles one at a time from Cheryl and then hand them to Jonas, Roberto, and Phil, before pointing to a dial on the right side of Jonas’s gun just in front of the trigger guard.  Bill explained loudly, “This dial, with settings ranging from one to twelve, controls the air pressure released from the air cylinder, and thus the velocity of the pellets you fire, and the button at the front of your trigger guard is the safety, which should be left on until I say otherwise.”

Bill waited patiently while the boys examined and practiced aiming their guns while Cheryl hurried back to her counter to fetch additional equipment.  “Okay, we are almost ready to get started,” Bill said chuckling, “but first I want to explain at least two of the ways my carnival shooting gallery game could be used.  Did I mention that these are for sale at your university book store and that each game kit comes with one gun, one panel assembly, and all the accessories needed to put one girl’s breasts at risk using either of the methods I’m about to describe.”  Bill grinned as the audience broke into laughter.

“Okay, that’s enough fun for now,” Bill called out holding his hands up, and then taking an object from Cheryl.  “We are on a rather tight schedule now, and may not make it through our full curriculum.  The first shooting gallery game I’m going to describe, the one we are not going to use today and which would not employ the chest straps, involves having the girls’ breasts double banded with large, thick, tubular elastic bands such as the one I’m holding here, and the retraction blades lowered all the way to her breast skin and positioned between the double bands on each breast.  The boys holding the gun across from each girl would then set their air pressure settings at one, and on someone’s mark, fire pellets simultaneously into their target girls’ breasts.  At setting one, each girl gets a small sting and the pellet bounces harmlessly off of her skin.  Assuming, none of the girls flinch badly enough to exert horizontal pressure on the blade assembly, the boys turn the air pressure setting up one notch and simultaneously fire again, repeating this procedure until one or more of the girls pulls back and the pressure from their bands against the blade triggers their debreasting.”

Bill chuckled as he saw the horror filling the three target girls’ faces, and said in his most reassuring tone, “Don’t worry girls, I said we are not going to play the game that way today.  At air pressure setting five, the pellets will break breast skin, and at each higher setting pellets will be buried deeper and deeper into breast meat, assuring a girl will flinch sooner or later and get her melons harvested.  If we played that game and all three of you were stubborn, we could make a mess of non-harvested breasts, or, if we reached setting eleven or twelve, end up with broken ribs or damaged vital organs!”

Bill handed the tubular band back to Cheryl, and took three flag-like objects from her before holding one of them up and announcing, “Instead, we are going to play the game using four-inch diameter circular targets.  Note that the paper target has a round, half-inch diameter, black bull’s-eye painted on it, a difficult target from this range but not too difficult I wager.  Note also that the paper is attached to a wire frame running around the target’s outer circumference, which is, in turn, attached to this thin, stiff, metal rod with an alligator clip at its base.  Note also that, on the back side of the target, there is a half-inch diameter metal disk behind the bull’s-eye that is held in place by vertical and horizontal wires running to the outer wire frame.  After I attach these targets to the three girls’ spring-loaded retraction blades, the pressure of a pellet striking a bull’s-eye, or a target’s wire rim or a bull’s-eye’s vertical or horizontal support wires, will result in that blade flashing downward through breast meat and into the groove atop the wooden panel.  Now, you boys keep those safeties on and gun barrels pointed at the ceiling while I set up the targets!”

Bill hurried back to the girls, and very carefully, so as to not accidently trigger any of the blades, clipped the bottom of the target’s one-foot high support rod to the left end of the girls’ debreasting blades, and then hurried back to join the boys.  From the boy’s perspective, the targets were now as far to the right of the girls’ faces as the shooting gallery equipment allowed, and the bull’s-eyes did look like they would be difficult to hit.  “Okay, boys, set your air pressure setting on ten, so you’ll get a nice flat trajectory, take careful aim, ease your safety off, and fire on my mark!” Bill commanded loudly.  “One warning to take note of—if one of you doesn’t fire in unison, I’ll manually trigger the blade above the breasts of the girl who asked the lagging boy to play this game with her.  “Ready…aim…FIRE!”

 

Roberto released his safety catch, took a steady aim, and fired immediately upon hearing the command ‘fire’.  He loved the terror that flashed across Jill’s face as she heard the air gun’s spitting sound, and then the knowing grin that formed on her pretty face as she saw the hole punched through the paper in her targets outside upper quadrant. 

The Latino boy was proud of his girlfriend’s moxie, and even more proud of her trust in him.  The three couples had strategized that, whatever the event, the boys would try to keep all three girls breasted for as long as possible, and that the boys would only try to take care of their own girls at the expense of the others when there was no other choice.  The other two boys had kept their words by firing wide of their girlfriends’ targets, and both Roberto and Jill knew Mr. Jennings would catch on if they continued firing wide and might debreast one or both of the other girls as a penalty for cheating, leaving Jill’s bosom intact.  Roberto believed, and hoped that Jill did too, that taking the chance of accidentally hitting the rim or bull’s-eye support wires was the best strategy for the couple.

Roberto grinned proudly as Mr. Jennings announced, “Nice shooting, Mr. Mendez!  No bull’s-eye, but a palpable hit.  You other two boys are going to have to do much better as you seem to have missed your targets completely.”  Then Roberto frowned as he watched terror fill his girlfriend’s face as both of them heard Mr. Jennings command, “Switch targets, boys, by stepping to your right, and the boy at the end walking around the end of the firing squad to take the far left target!”  As he and his friends did as they were told, Roberto found himself standing in front of Diane.  He glanced to his left to find Phil and Jonas staring at him with questioning looks, and he shrugged and shook his head to indicate there was no change in plans.

Roberto took careful aim as he heard Mr. Jennings bark, “READY!”  He focused on the upper right hand quadrant of Diane’s target as the man ordered, “AIM!”  Roberto fired immediately as Bill Jennings spat, “FIRE!”  Roberto Mendez was filled with self-satisfaction as he saw the target holed in the top right-hand quadrant, and an ill-looking Diane Lane quivering with fear. Roberto grinned as he heard Mr. Jennings pronounce, “Another hit, Mr. Mendez, and two more misses, Mr. Kevington and Mr. Wilkens.  Step to the right and switch targets again boys!”

After walking around the back of the line to stand in front of Rachel, Roberto began to aim at her target, but then lowered his air rifle after hearing Mr. Jennings chortle, “OOPS!  Sorry, boys and girls!  I forgot to explain about one of this game’s crucial elements.  The target stands are equipped with sound detectors, and the debreasting blades can be set to retract at a fixed or random number of detected shot sounds.  In this case, all three target stands have been set to trigger debreastings after the same number of fired pellets; because I set that number myself, I know what it is, but I’ll keep it to myself.  The bottom line is, after the next, or the next several, firing rounds, all three retraction blades will be simultaneously triggered, if these boys keep missing.  If that happens, I will collect the breast bacon of all three of the boys’ girlfriends, and Miss Hunsaker’s breasts will be vouchsafed.  However, because the boys themselves did not take actions that resulted in the teacher’s breasts being spared, Miss Hunsaker will not have to keep her agreement to change the boys’ grades and grant them sexual favors!  Take your firing positions gentlemen!”

Roberto hissed quickly, “It’s every guy for himself, boys!  I’m aiming for Rachel’s bull’s-eye, and if you two do the same with the targets before you, and we all three score hits, we’ll have to settle for the consolation prize.  I thought it only fair to warn you in advance.”  Roberto nodded to Mr. Jennings, who had conveniently waited for the boys to change their strategy from stalling tactics to aiming for kill shots, before calling out, “READY!”  Roberto saw the serious looks on his friends’ faces, and the terror in the three target girls’ eyes, before lining his gun sights up with the bull’s-eye on Rachel’s target.  As he heard Bill Jennings bark, “AIM,” Roberto Mendez heard his girlfriend, Jill, yell out, “Make it a good shot, Roberto!  Kill Rachel’s big titties with a bull’s-eye!  There is no way that Phillip will hit black on my target!”

Roberto grinned and his face filled with pride as he held his breath waiting for the command to fire.  Then Mr. Jennings spat, “FIRE!”  Roberto squeezed his round off, and heard the other two guns’ spitting sounds ring out almost simultaneously with his own.  Then he heard loud snapping sounds and girls shrilling in pain as he watched Rachel’s huge melons tumble downward to land with loud splats on the silver tray on the floor in front of her panel.  Roberto yelled with jubilation as he saw the pellet-hole dead center in Rachel’s bull’s-eye, and shrugged at the bawling girl’s bad luck.  He glanced to his right, and gasped in surprise to find Jill sobbing as she stared forlornly at her severed C-cups sitting nipples up on the silver tray in front of her—Phillip’s shot had gone wide right, but had caught the wire frame that ringed the perimeter of the target. 

Roberto shrugged at Jill, and shook his head with disappointment evident in his eyes.  As she looked as him with pain, disappointment, and disgust filling her pretty face, he said softly, “Sorry, baby, you got yourself debreasted and our engagement canceled.  I should have taken a shot at giving you a piglet earlier, instead of humping the older volunteer cow!”  As Jill looked crushed as his words rang through her mind, Roberto Mendez asked, “Yo, Jonas, what’s up?  I thought we had a change of strategy?”

 

“We did!” Jonas Wilkins spat with obvious anger in his voice.  “I holed Diane’s target, just to the right of her bull’s-eye, but Phil’s squeeze has still got tits!  Hey, Phil, I say we make your bitch earn the right to keep those boobs, and give us guys another chance to gangbang Miss Hunsaker.  Let’s set our air pressures on five and play the game the other way.  Let’s all three target Diane’s melons, and see if we can force her to flinch and debreast herself!”

Phillip Kevington smiled shyly at Diane Lane and shrugged his shoulders, saying, “Well, sweet cheeks, you can’t blame Jonas for wanting a second chance at earning an ‘A’ out of this class.  Also, I wouldn’t mind seeing what your boob’s look like as they bounce from the simultaneous impact of three pellets.  I say we put your moneymakers in double jeopardy, and you get them shot, but with our velocity settings on two—it wouldn’t be fair, Jonas, to make her start out on a five setting taking three pellets at the same time, when the game normally starts out with a girl taking only one pellet at the lowest velocity setting.”

“I thought one of the lessons you wanted to teach these girls, Mr. Jennings, was that life around men is often quite unfair,” Roberto Mendez chortled loudly.  “I’m with Jonas.  I say we use the five setting, and make Diane see her big boobs bloodied, if she manages not to flinch and gets to keep them riding on her chest.  I want to get laid tonight, and Miss Hunsaker is now my best option for that.”

“Fine!” Mr. Jennings proclaimed authoritatively.  “I’ll set things up for you boys to put Miss Lane through one round of bullets and boobs, but your air pressure settings will be turned to three—I’ll give you boys one last chance at laying Miss Hunsaker, but only if I have a decent chance at seeing her perfect breasts carted off to my kitchen!  Safeties on and barrels pointing at the ceiling!”

 After watching the boys comply, Bill hurried to Diane Lane’s panel and smiled down to her, saying, “Well, Miss Lane, it looks like it is up to you to keep your chest intact so that we can both watch your head teacher get her bounteous breast bacon harvested.  When those boys fire pellets into your boobs, it’s going to hurt like hell, but not nearly as much as it will if you give into the pain and pull back, or, worse, lose your nerve and lean back after I lower the blade to press more firmly into the skin atop your breasts.  Are you ready?”  Bill Jennings watched the black girl look up and nod with confidence in her eyes.  Then he knelt and operated the blade lowering control on the panel stand to the girl’s right.  He watched as the blade edge lowered and began indenting the skin at the top of the girl’s breasts, smiled, and warned, “I’m going to undo your chest straps, now, Diane.  Whatever you do, don’t move your chest forward or backward.”  Bill watched the girl nod, undid the straps, and hurried back to the boys’ sides.

“Ready, Gentlemen?” Bill asked with a smile. “You get one shot, simultaneously, and then I’m freeing all three girls.  I suggest you target the sensitive tips of Miss Lane’s nipples!”

“Right, Mr. Jennings,” Phil replied softly.  “Roberto and I will shoot her left nipple, Jonas, while you take her right.  Don’t ever say I didn’t give you a chance to earn those A grades, and hump our foxy teacher, cause I’m going to be sore at myself if my main squeeze can’t take it and debreasts herself.  I could have called the contest fair and done after the third round of shots!  At your mark, Mr. Jennings!”

 

Diane Lane watched with trepidation as all three boys took aim at her breasts and she heard Mr. Jennings call out, “Safeties off!  READY!  AIM!  FIRE!”  The black girl heard the nearly simultaneous spits of the air rifles as they were fired, and shrilled in agony as the erect nipples on both of her breasts burned suddenly with fire while her boobs bounced and jiggled from the impacts.  Diane desperately wanted to pull her big boobs out of the bacon traps, get her hands freed, and rub her tortured nipples, but she knew she would see her D-cups tumble onto the silver platter on the floor before her if she moved. 

Diane steeled herself, looking down with fascination at her own breasts, waiting for them to suddenly tumble away towards the ground.  The tops of both breasts had thin red lines, leaking a little blood, from the blade edge parting skin as her breasts had bounced from the pellet impacts, but her boobs were still there and not resting on the silver tray below them.  Then she looked up to see Mr. Jennings walking towards her and her debreasted friends while his blonde assistant took the air rifles away from the boys.  Soon, Mr. Jennings was operating the controls on the panel frame and lifting the blade edge off of the tops of her breasts.  Then the black girl was standing along with her friends while the head waitress washed the blood from and bandaged, first Rachel’s, and then Jill’s chests.

Diane grinned with obvious relief and more than a little pride as Mr. Jennings announced, “I would like to thank Miss Ashton and Miss Johnston for their donations to the worldwide food chain, well my kitchen specifically, and Miss Lane for her show of courage.  Now, boys and girls, it is time for our field-trip finale, and your head teacher’s chance to show her courage as she shows you girls how unfair life can be to a girl in this society.  Judy Hunsaker, take one step forward, and three steps to your right, to where you’ll see a small red X on the floor, and then be patient while I make you ready for our final mind-boggling demonstration!”  Diane’s grin broadened as she watched the pallid, frowning teacher comply, and she realized she was going to be able to watch the blonde bombshell get her bacon poached while Diane still possessed her own.   

 

Chapter 21. The Swinging Field-Trip Finale

           

            Sue glanced to her left and stared with disbelief at Wanda’s milk storage container—the Avenger’s big breasts had already produced eight-and-a-half liters of blue-tinged milk, and she seemed to be still lactating strongly.  Her friend’s milk production had surpassed the output of most of the converted milk cows behind her, even though they had started their milking stints before the heroines had arrived at the dairy.  Sue Richards had to wonder if one of Wanda Maximoff’s mutant powers didn’t involve milk glands!  Sue giggled, causing Janet and Zatanna to stare at her with quizzical looks, as she contemplated a heroine with the power of super lactation.

            The fair-haired matriarch of the Fantastic Four forced her eyes from her friend in the milking stall to the Venus-like blonde getting her elbows bound together in the demonstration area before the field-trip class.  Centuries of culling plain-looking girls before breeding age had resulted in a 41st Century filled with beautiful women—predominantly big-breasted beautiful women—but Sue felt sure that Judy Hunsaker’s smoking good looks would have made Helen seem less than special to both Menelaus and Paris, and the Trojan War not worth a decade of conflict.  ‘That blonde bombshell,’ Sue reflected, ‘is the true Goddess of Beauty!  I’ll bet, compared to most women, she’s lived a life of privilege, but her attributes aren’t going to stop a 41st Century male from using her to teach others the lesson of male power over women!’

            Sue frowned as Bill finished with his twine work.  With her wrists and elbows bound behind her back, the blue-eyed beauty queen’s huge, perfect DD-cup breasts tipped with erect pinkish nipples and unusually large areolae jutted out nicely on her chest.  ‘Miss Hunsaker isn’t a match for Wonder Woman, but I bet even Wanda feels intimidated by that girl’s bosom!’ Sue marveled in silence.  Then she watched with astonishment as Bill Jennings took uncharacteristic care in straightening and gently arranging the girl’s thick, flowing, mid-back-length, golden tresses like a professional hairdresser behind and between the head teacher’s shoulders.  It was as if the woman had Bill enthralled!

Sue nodded knowingly as she watched her 41st Century friend suddenly blink and frown, before he nodded to Cheryl standing near a wall panel.  ‘Yes, Bill,’ Sue thought mischievously, ‘you were looking pretty pathetic as you primped and primmed her yellow locks like a lovesick school boy!  I wonder if she has bewitched you enough with her beauty to talk you into sparing her bosom?’  As the floor in front of the teacher’s feet began to slowly open up, the result of Cheryl’s having flipped a switch on the wall panel, Sue watched as Bill Jennings seemed to regain his composure and remember his role in this field-trip venue.

“Spread your feet wide, Miss Hunsaker, placing your big toes against the corners of the floor-well from which your restraining equipment is rising,” Sue heard Bill command in a firm, calm voice, and then watched as the head teacher instantly complied with a passive look on her fine-featured face.  Like most of the girls, Judy Hunsaker’s pubic mound was clean-shaven, but it didn’t look to Sue like she cared that spreading her legs gave the audience a clear view of her moist vulva.  Sue found herself blushing as she thought about the girl’s predicament.  The 41st Century didn’t allow much leeway when it came to a girl preserving her modesty!

Sue pulled her attention away from the vivacious blonde to examine the equipment rising out of the floor.  Attached to some base, that was still hidden in the three-foot wide floor-well, were two vertical, metal, three-inch-diameter poles that teed perpendicular to the floor-well to support one-inch diameter vertical poles at the ends of the T’s.  These four smaller diameter poles rose another two feet to support thin horizontal boards parallel to and spanning the length of the floor-well—the inner board, closest to Miss Hunsaker’s chest, was only a quarter-inch wide, while the outer board was three-inches wide, and there was about a half-inch gap between the two flat boards.  Sue heard the blonde teacher issue a low moan as the boards reached the bases of her breasts and began to push upward on her massive orbs, before Cheryl flipped the wall-panel’s switch into its off position.

The blonde heroine watched as Bill, wearing a silly grin on his face, walked around the floor-well to stand in front of the head teacher and lift the front of the Judy’s big breasts, one in each hand.  She heard him issue instructions to his assistant, “Let’s raise the breast boards up another half inch, Cheryl.  That should have these massive knockers pillowed nicely for harvesting!”  Sue noticed that Bill seemed to be staring into Miss Hunsaker’s eyes, trying to get a reaction from her with his goading, as the twin boards were raised to the instructed level.  The teacher’s face remained passive, even when the man preparing her for her debreasting walked around to the back of her restraining stand and used the requisite straps already hanging from her side of the breast boards to cinch her chest tightly against the inner board.  Then Bill Jennings knelt and pulled up twine lengths hanging from brackets within the corners of the floor-well to secure the girl’s feet in their widespread position.

The final debreasting demonstration apparently almost ready to begin, Sue watched as Cheryl returned from her counter, which she had hurried over to as Bill secured Miss Hunsaker into place, with an orgasmatron emitter.  As he took the pleasure beam generator from his assistant, and Cheryl rushed back to the wall-panel and fingered a second switch, Sue heard Bill Jennings announce from his position behind Judy Hunsaker, “Boys and girls, I have a special treat for your field-trip finale.  You are about to see a brand new debreasting device put into use; one that was suggested to me by one of today’s volunteer milk cows for installation into the Game Room booths at Final Fantasy.  Unfortunately, my engineers could not make the device work within the narrow confines the debreasting booths necessitate, so I’ve had the device built here in the dairy instead!  Cheryl!”

‘No, it couldn’t be!’ rang through Sue Richards’ brain as she watched Cheryl flip the wall-panel switch.  The heroine instinctively stared up at the ceiling above Judy Hunsaker, and saw that a recess centered above and more than twice as long as the floor-well was opening up.  As Sue felt excitement flood through her mind, and saw horror fill the face of the, until now, passive teacher, Sue knew it could be, and then knew it was, as Cheryl flipped a third switch.  Sue blushed badly as she heard a low moan that screamed of sexual need, and realized the moan was coming from her own throat, as the pendulum blade swung downward out of the ceiling recess into full view.

 

Judy Hunsaker shivered with trepidation as she watched the obviously razor-sharp pendulum blade swing downward out of the hole in the ceiling, arc back upward to nearly disappear back into the recess, before swinging back downward over her head again.  Until now, Judy had felt sure that Bill Jennings was teasing her—threatening to debreast her and end her chance for marriage and a papered status, but with no intention of actually ruining her life.  The teacher shook her head as her mind filled with doubt.  ‘Surely, Bill isn’t going to really use that pendulum to slowly slice my big boobs from my chest,’ coursed through her muddled brain.  ‘Jason and I have shared dinner with Bill and his wife, Marge, on several occasions for Christ’s sake!’  Judy marveled at the silver blade above her, and noted the curved, gradually thickening embossment in the center of the forward side of the blade about six inches above the blade edge.  Above the embossment, the blade was an open frame, presumably so the pendulum’s victim could stare downward through the swinging opening and watch her breasts tumble from her chest.

The head teacher couldn’t take her eyes off of the swinging blade, even as she heard Bill Jennings announce, “I’ll give you a chance to keep those huge knockers of yours, Miss Hunsaker.  I’m going to place this orgasmatron emitter between your legs, set it on its highest pleasure beam intensity, and focus it on your clitoris.  Then Cheryl will release the pendulum’s safety catch, and the blade, beginning in a position about four feet above your breasts, will lower at a rate of one-eighth inch per swing with each swing taking about one-and-a-half seconds.  If you can resist climaxing for about ten minutes until your melons have taken two slices from the sharp blade, I’ll end the demonstration, release you, and send you to the best plastic surgeon in the city to have your damaged bosom repaired.  If you climax, you stay under the swinging pendulum for a few more minutes until those huge balloons of yours are fully popped, and your breast bacon lands on the silver tray that will momentarily be placed on the floor beneath your massive tits!”

“Keep your pleasure beam emitter and shove it up your ass, Bill Jennings!” Judy Hunsaker spat angrily.  “If it’s a choice between being debreasted or having your hands touching my privates, I’ll take the debreasting!  You’re not going to have the satisfaction of watching ME sigh in climax as you convert my big boobs into sandwich meat!”

“Very well, Miss Hunsaker,” the bound teacher heard Mr. Jennings reply calmly and coolly.  “There isn’t any reason to get rude.  It was my right as a male to force you into this debreasting demonstration, and it is your duty as an unpapered female to accept the fate I force upon you with as much decorum as possible.  You may regret declining the orgasmatron beam emitter, as it would provide an excuse for any orgasms you might experience as your chest is slowly rendered asunder.  If you now climax without the device as an excuse, or if you continue to be a poor example of proper partial-conversion etiquette to the female students participating in this field trip, I may find it necessary to further demonstrate the unfairness of man’s world to womankind.  Release the safety catch, Cheryl!”

Judy Hunsaker opened her mouth to issue an acerbic reply to the dairy owner and debreasting club entrepreneur, but then, hearing the click of another switch being flipped by the man’s assistant, thought better of it.  The teacher could tell the blade was now lowering slightly with each swing of the pendulum, and she could hear the low moans of sexual need being issued by the blonde volunteer milk cow at the back of the audience.  She watched as Cheryl hurried through the crowd of sitting students, some of whom were fingering wet vulvas or playing with erect penises, to retrieve a large silver tray from her counter.  Judy looked on with a thoughtful expression on her face as the waitress set the tray on the floor beneath her endangered chest—refusing the orgasmatron emitter might have been a serious mistake.  The teacher knew she would have surely climaxed under the influence of the pleasure beams upon, if not before, taking the requisite first two cuts from the swinging blade, but she now feared, based on the erotic behavior of the audience, that she might experience orgasm anyhow as the pendulum slowly flattened her chest.

The teacher stared at the moaning blonde volunteer milk cow who was desperately staring from one boy in the audience to another, evidently hoping she could interest them in copulating with her.  Her two friends, to the cow’s left, seemed bemused at the blonde’s behavior.  With no boy showing interest, the blonde milk cow returned her attention to the pendulum above Judy’s head, and watched each arcing swing with obvious fascination.  Judy Hunsaker gazed upward at the swinging blade, and noted that it had visibly lowered.  Now that the device dooming her prized bosom had her full attention, the teacher peered at it unblinkingly as if mesmerized.  With swing after swing, the blade slowly lowered.

 

“Make sure to lean your head back, Miss Hunsaker,” the head teacher suddenly heard Bill Jennings implore several minutes later, breaking the hushed silence that had otherwise been interrupted only by low moans and sighs with sexual undertones and the soft swooshing sound of the swinging blade.  “It wouldn’t do any good to lose the end of your nose or part of your chin to the sharp blade edge.  Only a few more minutes to go before the pendulum begins to let the air out of your big balloons!”   

Judy felt terror flood through her soul, and stared down to note the turgid nipples tipping her own large areolae.  She knew most 41st Century girls lived full lives without breasts, until their numbers came up in The Lottery, or they opted for voluntary full conversions.  However, Judy Hunsaker was not like most girls, and most girls didn’t carry breasts as large and perfect as hers were.  In truth, Judy doubted she would find life worth living if she possessed anything less than the perfect beauty she had enjoyed for twenty-three years.  The head teacher knew she had to find a way to save herself from this unfair predicament, and gain her papered status through marriage to Jason.  She grasped the first straw that came to mind and pleaded, “Mr. Jennings…Bill…release me with my boobs unharmed!  Please!  Release me a breasted girl…and I’ll have Jason…pay you…a million credits.  You know he’s good for it!”

“Watch your nose, Miss Hunsaker!” Judy heard the man warn from his position behind her, and pulled her head back just as the pendulum blade passed in front of her face.  “You don’t really think you can buy me off with mere money, do you, Judy Hunsaker?  Money that isn’t even actually yours!  You would have done better offering that perfect body of yours for use by the room.  Better yet, it would have been best if you had made a proper example to your female students by volunteering to be in the potential debreasting demonstration lineup at the start of the day!  Perhaps I would have chosen to spare an unselfish girl’s perfect beauty!  Perhaps I’m doing Jason a favor by ruining the perfect beauty of a spoiled brat!” 

Judy watched with astonishment on her face as the man stopped berating her, and walked around the floor-well to stand before and to the side of the only volunteer milk cow still in her stall.  She knew her gambit had failed, and that in a few short moments she would begin to feel the bite of the swinging blade atop her mammoth mammaries!  Judy Hunsaker knew her precious boobs were doomed to slow destruction! 

 

Wanda glanced to her right to look at Bill Jennings as he stared at Judy Hunsaker with his fists clenched in anger and disgust obvious on his face.  Evidently, her 41st Century friend didn’t appreciate being offered a bribe in public.  “Easy, Bill,” Wanda whispered softly, “she isn’t worth having a stroke over!”

Bill glanced to his left and grinned before replying, “Not much danger of that, Wanda, as I’m in perfect health.  Still, I am very angry.  As head teacher, Miss Hunsaker should have her students’ education foremost on her mind, yet she exhibits the exact type of behavior these young women must learn to avoid.  Whatever am I going to do with that girl?”

“You’ll do whatever society demands that you do in this situation, Bill,” Wanda answered with a chuckle in her voice, but a frown on her face.  “If this field-trip class is designed to teach these students how to prepare for life in this society, then they must learn what behavior is expected in every situation, as well as the consequences of misbehaving.”

“You say that now, Miss Maximoff,” Bill Jennings replied softly, a concerned look on his face, “but will you believe the same at the end of the day.  In this situation, my social responsibility is to….”

“I don’t want to know what you’re going to do with Miss Hunsaker, Bill Jennings!” Wanda hissed emphatically.  “I prefer not to know in advance.  Just know that whatever you do, I’ll understand that you will have been fair to her within the established expectations of your culture.  She said that she had led this field-trip class before; how is it that she ends up in her present predicament today, and not on some earlier field trip?”

“I understand, Wanda,” Bill replied softly as he shrugged his shoulders.  “Not knowing what is about to happen allows you to better play the role of a tourist.  I wonder how long you and your heroine friends will be able to maintain that attitude, Scarlet Witch.  Speaking of attitudes, it was Judy’s haughty attitude today that forced me to place her in the debreasting demonstration girl lineup.  I knew this was her last field trip before marriage, and her breasts became vouchsafed through her papered status.  I intentionally gave her a chance to show some compassion for another girl’s predicament when I made her decide if the B-cups on the blonde who had fairly drawn the cube with a six on it should be harvested.  I had already decided that whichever decision she made for the other girl’s breasts would be applied to her own double-D-cups—now those huge melons will begin to be harvested in another half-dozen to-and-fros of the pendulum.  Do you like this new debreasting device, Wanda?”

“Yes, Bill!” Wanda replied giggling.  “A swinging pendulum blade slowly lowering over doomed breasts is truly a classic sight to behold!  Sue seems to appreciate it even more than I do—she was the one that suggested this debreasting method to you, wasn’t she?”

“Yes, it was Sue’s suggestion,” Bill admitted in a quiet whisper.  “The Invisible Woman’s sensual moaning does seem to indicate she appreciates my efforts on her behalf.  Do you think Sue appreciates the show enough to let me have sex with her while we watch Miss Hunsaker regret her own lack of compassion?  If not, should I, at least, untie your friends’ hands?”

“No, Bill,” Wanda replied softly with a thoughtful look on her face, “Sue won’t ask you to have sex with her, even though she obviously wants some relief.  She will hold you to your promise not to have sex with one of us here in the dairy.  Don’t untie her hands, or the other two girls’ hands, either.  I fear Sue may give into temptation and frig herself to orgasm.  I think it will work out better for everyone involved if you send her home to her husband randy, rather than let her leave here today feeling as if she had debased herself in public.  Besides, in another few swings, the pendulum blade will reach tender bosom!  This is going to be fun to watch!”

Bill Jennings roared with laughter, before replying, “Wanda Maximoff, I do love you girls and the refreshing views you bring with you from a time long past.  Tell you what, I’ll bet a fillet against your breasts that Sue climaxes, without her hands being freed, just watching Judy’s big balloons slowly getting popped!  Are you in?”  Bill roared with laughter again, as the auburn-haired heroine sheepishly shook her head in refusal of the offered bet.

 

Judy Hunsaker shivered with trepidation as she watched the pendulum swing to-and-fro in front of her face as the blade crept ever nearer the top of her breasts.  She whimpered softly as she realized that in a few back-and-forth movements, the slowly lowering blade edge would begin to part her flesh where the tops of her breasts melded with her heaving chest.  Only a handful of seconds remained before the execution of her perfect DD-cups began!  Then she heard Bill Jennings roar with laughter as the volunteer milk cow beside him smiled and shook her head while she watched the Judy’s impending debreasting with obvious interest. 

The head teacher knew that her perfect life was about to be ruined, and decided to make one last, desperate attempt to preserve her chance for papered status.  “Bill Jennings,” Judy Hunsaker shrilled at the top of her voice, “release me at once, or, when I get home, I’ll talk to my brother about making your daughter pay for what you’ve done to me!  As you know, Joshua goes to the same school as Susie.  It wouldn’t be the first time a daughter disappeared, having likely been used as veal for some backyard barbecue!  What would dearly departed Marge think if you let her firstborn daughter pay the price for your mistake? ”

Judy felt hopeful as she saw shock and fear flash across Bill Jennings’ face as she finished her threat.  Then she quivered in hopeless terror as his countenance become one of disgust and rage, and she heard him angrily retort, “She would think the less of both of us, Miss Hunsaker, if I let your threat sway me from doing my duty!  My beloved Marge would not want me to endanger these students’ futures by showing them that bad behavior can go unpunished.  Joshua may be your brother, but he is also a male, and I do not believe he would risk getting himself docked because you stupidly got your breast bacon poached.  Besides, mere debreasting is not punishment enough for someone who would stoop to threatening MY daughter!  I am not at all sure you will be going home at the end of this day to have that talk with your brother.  Take a deep breath, Judy, those massive melons of yours are ripe for the harvesting!”

Judy Hunsaker gulped as the pendulum passed in front of her face and she felt wind on her chest.  ‘NOOoooo!’ resonated through the head teacher’s mind as she watched the swinging lever arc upward to her right.  ‘The blade edge was close to my chest that time!  I’m going to get cut soon…my boobs sliced open…!’  The head teacher gasped and whimpered as gravity pulled the weighted blade back to her left and she felt moving air and the coolness radiating from the silver metal on the upper curves of her breast bases.  Judy shivered with apprehension as she unblinkingly watched the pendulum reach the top of its upward arc, and begin its downward swing back to her right—she knew the blade edge would break skin at the bottom of the pendulum’s arc!

Judy choked off the beginning of a scream as she felt wind on her chest yet again, and gagged in horror as she felt the itch at the tops of her breasts and saw the short, thin line of broken skin at the upper inside quarters of her breasts where her massive orbs joined her chest.  She blushed badly as she heard the sensual moan issuing from her own throat, joining similar guttural sounds of sexual tension being issued from the audience, the blonde volunteer milk cow in particular.  It was then that the head teacher knew for sure that she had been right about what an orgasmatron emitter focused on her clitoris would have done to her demeanor in this unfortunate setting—the insidious pleasure beams would have forced a climax from her loins and broken her heart as her chance for her breasts’ salvation ended.  As the heavy blade arced back to her left and passed in front of the head teacher’s face, she felt more wind and another itch, saw a longer, deeper, redder line of broken skin just outside of the first cuts, and heard several staccato sighs of orgasm. 

Judy Hunsaker groaned in bitter disappointment as she felt wetness oozing from her sex, and suddenly realized that she had joined the blonde volunteer milk cow in climax.  ‘Bill Jennings was right…my predicament has forced an orgasm from my loins without the excuse of pleasure beams!’ tumbled through the head teacher’s muddled head as the pendulum approached the end of its upward arc.  ‘I’ve been a stupid girl…soon to be a breastless girl!  My marriage is lost!  Maybe I can…save my job…perhaps more…if I can…accept…my being…used…in this…debreasting…demonstration…with dignity?’  Then Judy heard a short, sharp scream as the pendulum passed in front of her face again, and she felt searing pain instead of an itching sensation and she saw the open cut atop her breast bases.  Tears flowed down the head teacher’s face as she followed the path of the pendulum to her right and upward, and she suddenly realized maintaining her dignity while her mammoth breasts were slowly being hacked off her chest wasn’t going to be easy to achieve!

 

Sue Richards cooed softly as she relished the warm glow flooding through her sopping wet privates.  She thought back to that night so many years ago when she and her husband-to-be, Reed, had watched that movie, ‘The Girl from B.I.K.I.N.I.’, sitting on the living room floor with Sue in front of him and between his legs—her egghead boyfriend had held her ever so tightly while gently playing with her breasts through her top as they watched the scene with the voluptuous redhead’s naked breasts under the swinging pendulum blade.  Sue could still remember the feel of Reed’s penis pressing into her lower back as it grew ever more tumid with each pendulum swing above the redhead’s imperiled bosom.  She could still remember how both of them had groaned audibly in disappointment as the BIKINI agents rescued the supposed rich-man’s daughter at the last minute with her huge breasts still intact.  That had been not long after the formation of the Fantastic Four, but Sue had already seen the inside of a few dungeons.  From that night on, Sue had fantasized about herself being the girl with breasts imperiled under the pendulum blade, and about Reed and her other teammates rescuing her at the last minute from some supervillain’s dungeon.

The lovely heroine shook her head in disbelief as she realized she was watching her fantasy play out for real in front of her eyes, although, this time, the girl whose breasts were imperiled was a blonde not a redhead—a blonde like herself!  Sue cooed again, and then blushed, as she watched the pendulum blade again bottom out in its swing, and make another, slightly deeper, cut into Judy’s bosom—the teacher’s face was filled with horror and she was issuing low moans that spoke of the pain that accompanied the destruction of her femininity.  Sue felt sorry for the girl, but she didn’t want her rescued—that thought was the reason for the heroine’s blush. She wasn’t going to be cheated out of watching her fantasy come true THIS time!  No, Sue Richards really did want Judy to be left under the blade until her big breasts came free of her chest and tumbled downward onto the large silver tray—unless of course Bill Jennings was willing to let Sue herself live out her fantasy with a slight modification.  Sue’s fantasy no longer ended with herself being rescued; now, as she imagined herself under the blade, she took slice after slice into her tender bosom until her flesh was fully parted and her boobies were dropping downward under gravity’s pull!

Sue moaned softly as the pendulum blade started back downward, and groaned with sexual need as she watched without blinking as the blade made another pass through the head teacher’s breasts.  She watched as the teacher yelped and then whimpered as she looked down at the angry red line across the tops of her breasts.  Sue knew, based on Bill’s description of the pendulum device, that the cuts into Judy Hunsaker’s breasts must now be at least a half-inch deep at their deepest points.  However, the bases of the teacher’s huge breasts were quite thick, so the popping of her big balloons was going to take some time. 

Sue Richards glanced around the room again to see if any of the boys were showing interest in her sexual assets.  Sue didn’t want the added guilt another sexual romp with a stranger would bring to her, but the sight of the pendulum taking intermittent slices through the blonde beauty queen’s breasts made the heroine uncomfortably hot.  Everyone’s attention was on the swinging blade and the mammoth mammaries—Sue was going to have to make do with visual stimulation.  She grinned as she suddenly realized that, this time, her friends hadn’t noticed her moment of weakness, and returned her full attention to the swinging pendulum of doom.  With each swooshing swing of the weighted lever and each mournful but sensual moan from the riveting blonde teacher beneath it, Sue’s lascivious needs slowly mounted.  

 

Judy Hunsaker gasped and gagged as she watched the weighted blade make yet another pass through her ravaged breast meat.  The ragged wounds atop her conical appendages were quite deep now, and the pain emanating from her chest was sheer agony.  Judy could see the yellowish-white color of the fatty tissue that predominated her breasts’ makeup, and, from the position of the parted skin halfway down the outside bases of her breasts, she reasoned that with each pass the sharp blade was severing more and more of the nerve-rich cores of her formerly perfect boobs.  She could see dark-red streaks on the blade now as it swung upward to the highpoint of its arc to her left, and could feel wet rivulets on her rib cage, but at least there wasn’t as much blood as she would have expected from the destruction of such large body parts.

Judy steeled herself for another pulse of agony which would permeate through the intense background pain protesting the destruction of her massive but tender orbs as the pendulum began its downward journey to her right.  Then the pendulum passed in front of her face and she heard her own short, sharp, yelp as the agony did indeed wash through her chest.  Tears were running down the head teacher’s face, but she believed she was accepting her punishment quite well, given the fact that she was losing so much more than mere breasts.  Hope filled her mind as she thought, ‘Maybe Bill will forgive me for my attempts at bribery and extortion?’ 

The swinging weight began its journey back to her left, Judy Hunsaker felt another burst of torment, and watched as her wounds grew even uglier.  ‘Why do I care about earning Bill Jennings’ forgiveness?’ flooded through her mind.  ‘Killing my boobs and ending my betrothal is a terrible thing for him to do to me!  I don’t care!  I don’t care what happens after my perfect bosom has been destroyed!’  Another swoosh in front of her face was followed by another pulse if agony, and Judy realized, ‘Not long now before my big balloons run out of air, and I’m a breastless woman who will never ever enjoy papered status!  Ruined…my life as well as my boobs!  Truly ruined!’ 

With swing after swing, slice after slice, flare of agony after flare of agony, Judy’s fate became ever closer to being sealed, until finally the pendulum blade’s design added insult to injury.  As the blade’s edge passed through her breast flesh, the curved, gradually thickening embossment in the center of the forward side of the pendulum began forcing her wounds open, emphasizing the fact that the destruction of the head teacher’s femininity was nearing an end.

 

“Yuck!” Wanda Maximoff spat with obvious disgust, before continuing without taking her eyes off the swing blade.  “That’s not pretty.  Why the bulge on the blade surface, and the unusual inelegance for one of your debreasting device designs, Bill?”     

“My engineers convinced me that it was a necessary feature, Wanda,” Bill replied softly before continuing matter-of-factly.  “The mass of a breast, by its very shape, is backwards loaded.  Even very large breasts like Miss Hunsaker’s may tend to resist tumbling forward under gravity’s pull once fully severed from a sow’s chest, and remain perched on the surface of the double breast-support boards.  Once detached, the embossment will push the warm fruit forward, off the cliff edge, so to say, so that we can hear that double plopping sound that announces the sow has become a debreasted girl.  My engineers actually claim that all girls strapped to that debreasting device will reach the breastless status, regardless of breast size, at exactly the same number of swings of the pendulum blade!”

“I see, Bill,” Wand hissed softly.  “Your explanation is very enlightening, but you can shut up now.  Look, as the pendulum passes in front of her chest, you can now see the blade edge below and between the breast-support boards.  Her balloons are very close to being fully popped.  If you keep talking, I’m going to miss that double-plopping sound that I once abhorred but have today grown to love!”

Bill chuckled softly to himself as he realized Wanda was talking about the sounds the breasts she had been born with had made that day many centuries past when the Riddler debreasted her, the Scarlet Witch.  He mused that it was good that the 21st Century heroine had come to enjoy the sound that was far from uncommonly heard in the 41st Century, and returned his attention to the pendulum and a spoiled and selfish beauty’s comeuppance.

 

Judy Hunsaker gagged and then whimpered as the pendulum blade made another path through her mutilated breasts.  The agony of the new cut was hardly felt above the background pain—pain that the head teacher was beginning to find sexually sensual.  She knew her breasts were hanging onto life by mere strips of skin—that her big balloons were close to popped.  Even if Bill Jennings stopped the debreasting demonstration now, Judy knew that even her culture’s advanced medical science could do nothing to save her savaged bosom.  She was a breastless girl even if her boobs never took another cut!

The head teacher grinned, and then blushed for having done so, as the thought raced through her mind, ‘Well at least I got to demonstrate this new and sordidly exciting debreasting method.  It isn’t the slowest method used today, but its intermittent nature makes it seem to take forever.  Damn!  Getting debreasted this way is ice-hot!’  She shook her head and moaned softly with obviously erotic undertones as the blade made another cut and the pendulum bulge pushed her wounds open again.  ‘Damn, there can’t be much bacon left to sever!’ poured through Judy’s muddled mind.  ‘How long is this going to last?  God I need to cum!’

Judy groaned in disappointment as the blade swung back downward and made another cut—a cut she couldn’t even feel!  She was sure her breasts were no longer hers, but there they were still resting against her chest.  She wanted to climax!  She was so close to doing so, but she couldn’t.  She looked to her left—the pendulum was on its way down again!  ‘This is it!’ the head teacher thought with unexpected clarity.  ‘Will my students cheer at my debreasting?  What will I say to them afterwords?’

Judy Hunsaker’s mind went blank as the weighted lever reached her chest and the bulging embossment on the side of the blade opposite her chest nudged the massive orbs she had spent twenty-three years growing and nurturing.  She watched through the pendulum cut-out as the conical appendages started forward.  She heard the blonde volunteer milk cow sigh loudly in climax as the pendulum passed to her right and her breast bacon began its downward tumble.  She heard the students and teachers gasping with excitement.  An eternity later, Judy heard a loud, wet double plop!  She drowned in the roar of the crowd before her and the loud applause from all around.  She stared with disbelief through the gap in the boards that at once supported her precious DD-cups at the giggling flesh sitting nipples up on a silver tray.  Only one thought permeated her muddled mind—‘I didn’t even get to cum!’

Judy heard a wall-switch being flipped behind her, and looked up from the amputated breasts to see that the pendulum was being retracted into the ceiling.  Evidently Bill Jennings’ assistant had moved from her counter to the pendulum controls when she wasn’t looking.  The head teacher heard the footsteps that indicated the girl was on her way towards her, no doubt with the requisite circular bandages.  She saw Bill Jennings rushing from his position in front of the milking stalls towards her.  Soon he was behind her undoing the straps that held her chest tightly against the no longer needed breast-support boards.  She heard the man, as he untied her ankles, angrily command, “No bandages, Cheryl!  At least not yet!  These students have a final lesson to learn!”

Judy Hunsaker suddenly found herself being manhandled, her arms still tied, further into the dairy.  Bill pushed her behind some oddly familiar equipment, and forced her to bend over at her waist.  As her neck pushed forward and down into a half-circular cutout, the head teacher felt something drop over the back of her neck, trapping her into her bent-over position.  Suddenly her feet were being pushed to the sides, and her ankles were being secured with twine to brackets in the floor.  All of this was happening, and, still, all Judy could think of was, ‘I didn’t even get to cum!’  In her opinion, there was nothing worse than being left hung-up, on the verge of orgasm, but climax just out of reach.  That opinion was about to change. 

The head teacher heard Bill Jennings, call out, “The orgasmatron beam emitter, Cheryl!  Bring it to me!  Also, I need one male volunteer, preferably one who hasn’t yet squirted seed today, to stand in front of Miss Hunsaker on the spot marked by the X on the floor.  Your head teacher, boys and girls, is going to be given the chance to give a little head.  You are going to see what happens to a girl who misbehaves after being ordered to accept partial conversion by an adult male.  Don’t worry, Miss Hunsaker, I’ll give you one last chance to prove yourself.”

Judy Hunsaker listened to derisive laughter fill the room as she watched the blonde assistant pass the familiar circular disc to her boss and move to another wall switch as a burly brown-haired boy, Micheal Sterling, stepped in front of her and dropped his trousers and underwear.  The brown-eyed boy’s eyes gleamed with pride and excitement as he watched Judy’s blue eyes focus on his massive penis that jutted outward above a large and full scrotum.  ‘Yes, I’ll suck that boy dry,’ Judy thought nodding.  ‘I’ll even do it while I’m being forced climaxed, if it will end this terrible day!’

Judy sensed Bill Jennings set the orgamatron disc between her legs, and heard a wall switch being flipped as the man moved to stand beside her trapped head.  Suddenly he was pulling her long blonde hair through her neck restraint, and using a cord to tie it into a ponytail—a cord that had been played out from a ceiling winch!  Then Bill was back behind her and between her widespread legs, manipulating the controls of the pleasure beam emitter with one hand while he spread her labial lips with his other.  Judy almost climaxed, right there and then!  She desperately wanted to—she just couldn’t quite reach release.

The head teacher felt the man remove his hands from her vulva as he switched the pleasure beam emitter on.  Judy gasped with relief and moaned in pleasure.  She was finally going to be allowed to cum!  That was fine, even if she had to give the boy in front of her head while she was brought to climax.  Then she gasped in surprise as Bill Jennings stood and suddenly thrust his manhood into her vagina as he proclaimed, “I’ll be more than fair, Miss Hunsaker.  I’ll give you one last chance to redeem yourself.  If you can keep from climaxing for five minutes with the orgasmatron beam emitter between your legs set at its present, highest, intensity, the boy before you will step forward and your only punishment for your atrocious behavior will be being forced to suck him off while your students watch.  On the other hand, if you climax, you’ll still be forced to put his penis in your mouth and bring him to orgasm as we attempt to answer the age old question of whether a head lives on once decapitation has occurred.  Good luck, Judy!”

Horror immersed Judy Hunsaker as she suddenly realized the familiar device she had been strapped into was a guillotine.  She almost climaxed with the realization, but instead grunted in pain as Bill Jennings pulled his turgid penis out of her vagina and suddenly thrust his thick manhood violently past her anus and into her rectum—evidently the man meant to share her final experience with her if she couldn’t control her libido and avoid orgasm.  ‘This is hopeless!’ Judy thought as she realized how badly she needed climax.  She wanted to plead for her life!  She wanted to threaten retaliation!  She knew both would seal her fate, so she stared desperately at the Michael’s tumid phallus.  She needed to survive to perform fellatio on that boy—she desperately wanted to swallow warm seed and send the life-creating protein to her butterfly-filled stomach!        

The seconds passed slowly for Judy as the heat continued to build in her loins.  “Four minutes!” she heard Bill Jennings announce as he slowly began humping his manhood into her tight behind.  An eternity passed before the head teacher heard Bill announce, “Three minutes!”  Forever later, Judy heard the man announce, “Two minutes left!  I’m very impressed, Miss Hunsaker!”  The man stopped fucking her behind, but the teacher knew this was because he felt he was close to spraying his seed before she had finished her trial, not because he wanted to spare her the sordid sexual stimulation that anal sex brought with it.  Judy stared with intense desire at the erect man meat in front of her face.  ‘I’ll get to taste you, Michael!’ washed through Judy’s mind.

“One minute!” Judy Hunsaker heard Bill Jennings announce as he began humping her behind again.  She moaned with need—she needed climax, but needed to stay alive even more.  The irony suddenly struck her that, a short time earlier, she had contemplated that life without her perfect beauty wasn’t worth living.  Now she desperately wanted to live breastless and fellate the boy before her!  “Thirty seconds!” she heard the man sodomizing her announce, and Judy Hunsaker KNEW she was going to survive her ill behavior.

Judy heard a beep, which she assumed was her timer expiring, and then a mechanical click followed by a loud rattle as Bill Jennings roared and ejaculated his hot semen into her anus as she gave into the throws of violent climax.  The teacher wanted to scream in victory as her brain burned along with her loins—she wanted to savor the joy of sweet victory.  Michael was moving oddly towards her, and he seemed to have his hand in her hair as well as reaching for her face.  Judy Hunsaker willingly took the manhood that was suddenly speared into her open mouth.  She began using everything she had learned in her sex education classes to give the best fellatio of her life.  She wanted to drink warm semen and end this day of disappointments!  Then she got her wish as she felt warm liquid splashing into the back of her mouth and she swallowed. 

Michael suddenly pushed Judy Hunsaker off of his manhood, and tilted her head upward so that she could see the excited ecstasy on his face.  Then he used the hands on the side of her face to show Judy the floor—there was a pool of blood on the floor, and the semen she had swallowed riding on the surface of the red pool.  Then Michael twisted her head into an impossible position, so that she could see the still quivering, breastless body that had collapsed onto the floor in front of a jubilant Bill Jennings.  As Judy’s world slowly faded to black, she heard Michael announce, “It looks like we have answered Mr. Jennings’ question about life after decapitation, Miss Hunsaker, and that you have been converted into a headless long pig destined for the coals!”

To be continued.

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