Chapter 22. Lessons Learned

Bill Jennings retook his favorite lecturing position in front of the milking stalls as the clean-up crew and pit attendants went to work around the guillotine, cleared his voice, and said, “Okay, boys and girls, listen up while I conclude this Metropolitan University women’s life-preparation field-trip class. The final lesson I wanted you girls to learn is that no matter where you are, no matter how important you think yourself, you can never lose sight of the fact that you are nothing more than toys and meat to the men around you. If you are given the opportunity to volunteer, even if it’s an opportunity to volunteer for something you would rather not have happen to you, you had best volunteer. Otherwise you risk aggravating one of the males around you, and that never leads to anything good. Also, once you have been chosen to fulfill some duty or role by a male, do so without complaint, and make the best of it. Otherwise, you’ll end up like her,” Bill nodded to the headless carcass being carried by two pit attendants as they passed in front of him and then to the pretty head being carried by a third, “unable to make any further complaints to anyone at anytime. Are there any questions before we adjourn?”

A slim Amerindian girl in the middle of the class frowned, timidly raised her hand, and, after Bill nodded, asked in a quivering voice, “Mr. Jennings, I mean no disrespect with this question, but I was wondering if you enjoyed popping first Miss Hunsaker’s titties, and then her cap? Also, is that really what men see us girls as—toys to maim and kill, and food to eat?”

Bill Jennings paused with a thoughtful look on his face before replying to the student’s question with, “I’ll answer the second question first, Miss, and then the first. Yes, I meant what I said—many men in our culture see girls as toys to be used, abused, or disposed of in any way they fancy. That is a reality every girl in this room must learn and never let leave your mind if you want to live long enough for your number to come up in The Lottery. That is part of the lesson you were to have learned from in this class and specifically from this field trip. Additionally, the very mention of The Lottery should remind every girl in this room that, unless you achieve a papered status, you will become food to eat whenever your life ends. Actually, even after achieving a papered status—the few of you that do—you’ll most likely end up as food, even at a young age with divorces suddenly so common.”

“As to your question to me about my role in Miss Hunsaker’s partial and then full conversion to meat, I am not offended but am rather thankful for the opportunity to explain my actions,” Bill continued with a sheepish smile. “I run a debreasting club, so obviously I enjoy watching or participating in the harvesting of breast bacon—I think most everyone in the room enjoys at least the watching part. Let’s hear some applause from everyone who accepts that as a fair statement.” Bill grinned as thunderous clapping filled the room, and as the noise subsided, added, “Breasts are beautiful but frankly useless body parts that can be quite tasty if carefully prepared. They are nearly impossible to turn into culinary delights while still on a sow’s carcass, however, so I believe that any girl who accepts full conversion while still carrying her breasts on her chest has wasted some of her meat and an opportunity—an opportunity to use her chest ornaments as a mechanism to gain joy and excitement for herself and others, as well as the obvious resource as food. By the way, Cheryl, now would be a good time to pass out some more drink tickets to trade for Lactic Blasters at my debreasting nightclub, Final Fantasy!”

Bill smiled as the room burst into laughter, and turned and winked to Wanda as Cheryl, already standing in the middle of the audience with drink tickets in hand, began complying with his instructions. As the room quieted he turned back the class and added, “To be clear, I did enjoy popping Miss Hunsaker’s big balloons, and my customers will certainly enjoy the many breast bacon sandwiches made from them. I do wish she had let me use the orgasmatron beam emitter on her as she was debreasted by pendulum blade. The perfect set of DD-cups she carried was worth more than one climax as they were harvested from her chest. I wish even more that she had been more careful in carrying out her duty to this class. I think she would likely still be here, breasted, if she would have either accepted her duty as a girl and class teacher and volunteered for the potential debreasting demonstration lineup, or demonstrated the appropriate compassion and fairness to her colleague whose breasts should have been vouchsafed when she drew the cube with a six on it.”

Bill Jennings watched as many of the girls in the audience nodded at his explanation, and then continued with, “I, however, am quite diligent in carrying out my duties as a male, and as an instructor for this field-trip venue. I have never enjoyed performing a full conversion on a sow, even when I didn’t know the girl that became that sow, but I’ll do it in whichever manner is proscribed if my duty as a male requires me to do so. I, in fact, have performed many full conversions, both during field trips to this dairy or at the end of lotteries at Final Fantasy, and have known the sows who became meat when they were girls on many of those occasions. Performing my duty with equal fairness regardless of how well I know or like a girl keeps life fair for all, and no girl here should expect any less from me if their full conversion becomes my duty!”

Bill cleared his throat before admitting, “Miss Hunsaker was one of those sows I knew as a girl—I have socialized with her and her fiancé on several occasions. When Miss Hunsaker foreswore her duties as leader of this field trip designed to teach you students how to survive in this society, and instead began exhibiting behavior that will quickly get a girl into trouble, she had to be used as tool to teach this class’s final curriculum element—involuntary full conversion. Perhaps she let her approaching marriage, her status as head teacher, or the fact that she knew me cloud her judgment. She really screwed up—bribery and extortion of a male by a girl demands swift and serious punishment! Even so, Miss Hunsaker was given a chance—if she could have resisted climax for just a few seconds longer, she would have kept her head, and me from further proving the answer to an age-old question. No, I didn’t enjoy popping Miss Hunsaker’s ‘cap’ as you put it, but I did enjoy taking her from behind and my customers will enjoy her fresh roasted meat.”

“Crap!” Bill spat suddenly. “That reminds me of how much I’m not going to enjoy explaining to Jason what I’ve done to his fiancé! Cheryl, we need to make sure Judy’s fresh-roasted fillet is delivered still warm from the coals to Jason Carl…oh…way ahead of me again, are you?” The class laughed as they saw Mr. Jennings’ assistant smiling broadly as she nodded to her boss. “Very well, have the pit attendants save me one of her tenderloins to snack on before heading home; I want to see if that girl tastes as good as she looked! I guess that re-emphasizes my answer to your second question, young lady—I, like most everyone else in the world likes to eat meat. You girls are the meat we eat, so it is your civic duty to take care of your meat and make sure it doesn’t slide down the grading scale as you grow older. With that, I think I’ll dismiss this class, with Doctor Dobson temporarily taking over as head teacher. You’ll do that for us won’t you, Pamela? Good! Thanks boys and girls! You’ve been great students…and teachers as well. Have a safe bus ride back to school, and please do come visit us at Final Fantasy!”

The dairy was filled with laughter and chatter that gradually subsided as the students and teachers filed out of the building and into their waiting school bus. When the room was fully empty of the field-trip class, Bill Jennings turned to the three heroines whose breasts had run dry of milk, smiled, and said, “Go ahead and stand if you want. I know you all would like your wrists untied and anal plugs removed, but we still have a girl to dock and some other entertainment as well after older men join us here in the dairy, so you stay as you are.” Bill grinned as Janet blushed badly and wore a nervous frown on her face as she and her friends stood to face him—she obviously remembered his threat to dock nipples and clit from whichever heroine ran dry first, which she herself, as expected based on breast size, had done!

Bill chuckled as Janet struggled to avoid eye contact with him, before asking with obvious interest, “Now tell me, while Cheryl releases the herd of converted cows from their stalls, what did you girls think of today’s field-trip classes? Do you think my role as guest instructor will benefit this generation of girls? More importantly, will you come back to the dairy and volunteer your milk again? Next month, my daughter’s Central High School Senior-grade home economics class makes its annual field-trip visit to the Final Fantasy dairy, coincidentally on Susie’s eighteenth birthday. It will be a late afternoon event without a college field trip that day. I would really like you girls to meet her! She is a lovely girl, and as you all likely remember, she has her heart set on volunteering for the Club X picnic the following Sunday, so the field trip might be your only chance to see her. Will you all do another stint in the stalls next month, for the price of another fillet, naturally?”

Without waiting for an answer, Bill turned to Wanda, examined the milk-storage container beside her, and chortled, “Nine-and-a-half liters, Miss Maximoff, very impressive! Still squirting strongly too, by the looks of your transparent milking tubes! While the herd gets released at the end of their standard shift, I’m afraid you’ll have to remain in your stall until your milk glands run dry. You wouldn’t want to still be leaking milk when you try to get your big balloons popped while your hero friends watch Friday night, would you, Wanda? That would be most embarrassing, wouldn’t it? If your milk-storage container becomes completely full, Cheryl will disconnect your milking tubes from it and start filling one-liter jugs. Is anyone going to start answering my questions?”

Zatanna chuckled loudly before chidingly replying, “I’ll start by agreeing that it would be most embarrassing if Wanda starts spraying milk along with blood as she gets herself deboobed Friday night, regardless of the debreasting method she finally chooses! Sharing milking stalls with the Scarlet Witch has been most enlightening, not to mention humbling. No wonder you get milked by the villains so frequently, Wanda. Just teasing, girl! No offense meant to you either, Bill, when I vote to decline your offer to do another milking stint, especially as we haven’t even spent the credits we earned today. As we admitted after the high school field trip, this has been a mostly entertaining experience, but the day has been long and sprinkled with some unpleasant curriculum elements.”

“What our rude friend, Zatanna, means, Bill,” Wanda interjected softly, “is that it is very difficult for us 21^st Century girls to watch you, our friend, kill other girls, regardless of whether it is a voluntary full conversion to meat or involuntary, and regardless of whether it occurs here in the dairy during a field trip or at Final Fantasy following a lottery. For that matter, while admitting to finding the spectacle sensual, I must confess that the involuntary partial conversions trouble me a bit as well. However, I’m sure we all understand that both the deaths and debreastings are a normal and necessary part of this society, and we do not hold ill feelings toward you for the role you play in them.”

Wanda watched as Bill nodded with a frown on his face before she announced, “I would love to meet your daughter, Susie, though I might have the strong inclination to try to talk her out of volunteering to end her life as a live roaster at the Club X picnic if I did so. However, I really do hate being milked, perhaps because my milking stints last so long and the villains seem to do it to me so frequently. Thus, I have mixed feelings about your request that we volunteer to return to the dairy next month, and abstain from voting.”

“I agree with Zatanna and Wanda, Bill,” Sue replied with a nervous giggle. “I want to add that we were most impressed with the professionalism demonstrated by both you and Cheryl as you ran through both field-trip curriculums, and I’m sure you’ve lengthened the lives of every girl that survived the day. Some of those girls may survive long enough to see their role in society improve due to this food revolution that you said was occurring. I’ll have to point out, however, that it was obvious to us that much of what we saw you do today was done to fill your own larder, and entice new customers to your debreasting club, but I guess that makes you a great business man as well as a good teacher.”

Sue paused and smiled as she watched pride beam from Bill Jennings’ face, before sheepishly confessing while blushing badly, “Having already agreed that I found some of what I watched to be troubling, I must admit that I really enjoyed watching Miss Hunsaker getting her big balloons involuntarily popped—it seems I have a thing for swinging pendulum blades over doomed breasts! Therefore, if you’re are willing to install three more such devices along the same wall as the first one and use them to simultaneously debreast all four of us at the end of the day for your daughter’s entertainment, I vote yes to a return trip to the dairy. I heard Bill tell Wanda that the breasts come free of the chest, regardless of breast size, at exactly the same number of pendulum swings, Janet. I tell you that just in case it matters to you that we would all be getting our balloons popped at exactly the same time, because you are the swing vote.”

“Hang on a minute, Sue!” Janet spat with obvious shock on her face. “I thought you were the one having a really big guilt trip over us heroines intentionally inflicting pain and destruction on our bosoms. I thought you were the one who wanted to start playing Wanda’s favorite game to win a free climax and stay whole? Now you want us all to volunteer our breasts to certain, slow, intermittent, and obviously excruciating devastation while a bunch of high school seniors watch on waiting to hear ploppity, plop, plop, plop, ploppity, plop, plop, plop? Jeese, Mrs. Richards, you must have a really BIG thing for swinging pendulum blades over doomed breasts!”

Janet paused and thought hard as she slowly examined each of her friends’ faces. Zatanna looked disinterested in the conversation, rather than appalled at Sue’s suggestion as Janet would have expected—this made the winsome heroine a bit curious. Wanda’s face wore a grin, however, and her gold-flecked blue eyes were filled with hope as she waited patiently for her teammate’s decision—it was obvious to Janet that her friend would submit to yet another milking if it meant participating in a mass heroine debreasting. Sue, however, was still blushing badly and was very jittery—it suddenly dawned on the spunky Avenger how surprised the blonde heroine was at her own proposal, and how much Sue wanted it to be accepted. Janet said softly and calmly, “Bill, this is a difficult decision for me to make, so I’m going to ask some questions before I vote. Then I may ask for an additional concession. First, would you be willing to install the additional equipment as Sue is requesting, and will the high school allow you to use us as debreasting demonstration girls?”

“Debreasting demonstration sows, once you’ve been strapped into the debreasting devices,” Bill corrected calmly before replying to Janet’s question. “Yes, I can use you or any other adult girls to demonstrate debreasting methods to the students, and yes I would be willing to spend a small fortune to give Sue her wish if it meant my daughter meeting you girls.”

“Okay,” Janet said with nervousness growing in her voice, “I guess that puts the decision firmly on my shoulders, or my mammary glands to be more accurate, and I find it truly embarrassing to run dry more than an hour before Wanda. That part of being the volunteer milk cow with the smallest breasts really blows! If we volunteer as milk cows next month, Bill, I assume we will need to be at the dairy for about the same length of time as today, waiting for super cow to run dry. Is that true?”

“Yes, Janet,” Bill replied with a chuckle. “I will expect you to arrive at the dairy at the same time you did today, and will expect you to remain here until all four of you run dry. Then, and only then, will I strap the four of you to the double breast-support boards and simultaneously release the four pendulum blades. It wouldn’t do for the high school students to see any milk go un-harvested before harvesting four cows’ breast bacon. Anticipating a question you’re likely to ask, Janet, you’ll have nipples as you stand under the swinging blade. If I’m going to dock you for being the first heroine to run dry, that will happen today after the athletic teams arrive, and not next month!”

“That’s most comforting to know, Bill Jennings,” Janet replied with obvious sarcasm as she watched the converted milk cows filing out of the room and Cheryl on her way over to join the crowd in front of the lone-remaining active milking stall. “I’ll drop that subject—I saw what happened to the last girl who tried to negotiate her puppies out of peril! So, what do us heroines who run dry do, as we wait for Wanda to stop squirting?”

“You’ll help Cheryl, here,” Bill nodded to the head waitress as she joined the group, “set up the demonstration events—the debreasting demonstrations at least. I’ll handle the full conversions myself. The high school boys won’t be able to force you to do anything for them, so you likely won’t have to engage in sex with them. However, if matter needs to be taken in hand, as it was today—an unusual occurrence I assure you—it will be you heroines’ hands massaging manhood, not Cheryl’s!”

“Another comforting thought!” Janet retorted facetiously. “With my smaller breasts, I’ll start receiving cuts later than these other three, so this time the pain slut will receive the less of it, but will my breasts really tumble from my chest at the same time theirs do? How sure are you that our balloons will get popped at exactly the same time, Bill?”

Bill Jennings roared with laughter before replying, “God, I do love the way you girls think! I’m reasonably sure, Janet, that your breast bacon will become mine at the same time your friends’ breast bacon does. The largest possible error that could be made in my engineers’ calculations is one pendulum pass, or one-half swing, so three-quarters of a second, but I’m certain no error in calculation has been made. I’m sure enough that all four sets of breasts will get pushed off the double breast-support boards with the same number of pendulum swings, and the swings are easily synchronized, that I’m willing to bet a fillet against your next set of regenerated breasts on it!”

“No bet, Bill Jennings!” Janet spat after giggling nervously. “I remember that, from now on, bets at Final Fantasy get settled on the dance floor with the losing girl bent over a waist-high bar and her breasts sliced of her chest with a…. What did you name that hoop-shaped instrument with the sharp inner edge that Zatanna suggested? Did you patent that yet?”

“Yes, Janet,” Bill chuckled loudly, “I did patent Zatanna’s debreasting blade and called it a Zatanna as I said I would. You’ll see it in use shortly!”

“Right!” Janet spat with obvious emotion. “My puppies are not going to be Zatannaed off my chest. That’s a way too fast and simple debreasting method for me to be willing to risk betting against you! Okay, I think I’ve decided. Zatanna, I know Wanda won’t be angry with me if I vote with Sue that we come back and do another milking stint a month from now, even though she complains about being milked the most. Before I ask Bill for that additional concession, I need to know, what about you?”

“I won’t be angry with you, Janet, if you decide to do another milking stint,” Zatanna replied softly and carefully with a knowing smile on her face. “However, I can’t promise that I will make that field-trip to the future. A Justice League mission may come up, or I may have to pass for some other reason. Still, I’m sure you will be able to talk some other heroine into being your fourth set of breasts.”

“And if Zatanna doesn’t make the trip and you can’t entice a fourth heroine into coming along, the three of you should still come, Janet!” Bill Jennings interjected while chuckling happily. “If we end up with an open milking stall, I’ll have Cheryl, here, fill it. You wouldn’t mind joining these lovely heroines for an afternoon of fun, would you, Cheryl?”

“For the milking stint, Mr. Jennings?” the blonde waitress asked with a wary look on her face.

“For an afternoon of fun, Cheryl,” Bill Jennings replied with a mischievous grin on his face.

“For an afternoon of fun ending with my D-cups under a pendulum blade, boss?” Cheryl asked softly with apprehension evident on her face.

“Yes, Cheryl,” Bill said nodding. “Sue’s description of my daughter’s birthday surprise stipulated four sets of breasts tumbling simultaneously from chests. Besides, I think your scrumptious looking melons will make fantastic plopping sounds as they land on a silver meat tray!”

“WOW, boss, that is quite a compliment!” Cheryl spat sarcastically, now wearing resignation on her face. “At least I can stop contemplating using my body as bait for a potential set of papers at that Club X place we sometimes cater to! If these girls end up one short next month, do I still get my post-debreasting pension, Mr. Jennings?”

“Yes, of course you will, Cheryl!” Bill responded with a mischievous grin. Then he quipped with an evil look on his face, “Or at least your father will, if I decide to retry my guillotine experiment and let you give me a little head!”

“Stop it, Bill Jennings!” Zatanna interrupted with obvious irritation. “Cheryl, I expect that if I can’t make it, my friends here will easily attract a fourth heroine. Especially if they don’t tell her in advance that she is going to join them in having their breasts slowly hacked off! Tell Bill what concession you want from him, Janet, and then talk sweet Cheryl out of her temptation to visit Club X.”

“Yeah, right!” Janet replied giggling nervously. “Whatever you do, Cheryl, don’t visit Club X…unless Bill here is your escort. Even then, you’ll end up being in death games instead of setting them up, but you knew that already, didn’t you?” As Cheryl nodded, still with a resigned look in her eyes, Janet continued with, “Don’t worry, Cheryl, we will have Zatanna with us next month, or some other heroine, preferable someone with breasts smaller than mine. Hmmm…I hadn’t thought about the ‘surprise, you’re going to be debreasted’ routine! Might work!”

Janet giggled as Wanda and Sue shook their heads negatively, before announcing with evident trepidation, “All right, Bill, one last question before I ask for my concession. I’m assuming you will do a lineup of potential full conversion demonstration girls next month, like you did for the high school field-trip today. Will you promise not to put any of us heroines in that lineup?”

“Yes, Janet, I will do a similar lineup to determine which teachers are used to demonstrate full conversions, and I promise that only girls born in this century will be in it,” Bill said softly in a calm voice. “However, don’t take that as a promise to permit bad behavior on your part. If my culture’s customs require that I harvest your meat, I will, make no mistake about that. Otherwise your lives are safe in my hands. What do I have to do to get you to commit to that second stint in these stalls, Janet Van Dyne?”

“Well, Bill,” Janet began softly, trying to be cautious with her words, “instead of paying us the price of a fillet for our efforts on your behalf. Could you take us to a restaurant and buy us all fillets the next night, after we’ve had our breasts regenerated? I was specifically wondering if you would take us to Mike Simon’s nightclub, where Marge told us he offered a full range of cuts from living girls displaying their meat right at the patrons’ tables. Now that would be a 41^st Century experience!”

Bill Jennings roared with laughter and then shook his head with disbelief in what he was being asked to do. From the expressions on the other heroines’ faces, it was obvious that Janet had spoken of this desire to them, and they unexpectedly seemed to be okay with it. After finally regaining his composure, Bill asked wryly, “You do know that those living girls get terminated after their fillets are purchased by a customer, don’t you Janet? A girl doesn’t live long if you try to harvest that prime cut while she is alive, so custom dictates you execute her first. At Mike Simon’s place, La Parisian Mademoiselle, the customer ordering the cut selects the execution method for the sow providing the food, and the conversion to meat takes place tableside. If all of you agree that you’re ready for that level of 41^st Century experience, I’ll take you there. However, I suggest we do it Wednesday night, before your breasts have been regenerated and while you’re wearing fresh bandages. That way Mike might refrain from sending you, Janet, to the kitchen, for what he perceives you did to his Jeanette!”

“But he made me dock his wife!” Janet retorted with regret in her voice. “Never mind! If you think Wednesday night is better, fine. We will just bring evening dresses with us! As for the tableside girls, they’ve already been ordered for conversion via The Lottery, right? If we don’t order their fillets, someone else would soon after we had our chance, right? It’s not like we would be ending their lives before their time!”

“You are mostly right, my winsome Wasp” Bill replied softly. “Most of the girls on the menu will be either domestically raised sows whose numbers came up in The Lottery, or grain-fed sows from the Orphanages. Occasionally, there will be a girl available that sold her meat for money, or a girl paying the ultimate price for an unwise gamble. Wednesday it is, Janet! It will be interesting to see your choices for the sows’ terminations. However, you are to wear the same swimwear you entered and exited Club X with, and then only the bottoms with your chest bandages fully displayed—we maintain the ruse that you are my chattel! Wanda? Sue? Zatanna?”

“I’m in, Bill,” Wanda replied softly, “although, I may elect to order another meat cut from whichever girl Janet chooses. That said, we’ve seen so many girls converted to meat during the past few weeks, you really shouldn’t be surprised if I change my mind. Choosing the time and method of execution for a girl condemned to die isn’t the same as committing murder!”

“I’m in too,” Sue said softly in a quivering voice, “and I’ll be ordering a fillet unless I decide to go vegetarian, which I doubt is going to happen. I’ll be most careful to see my menu girl terminated in the kindest manner possible.”

“Assuming I’m here, I won’t spoil the party!” Zatanna spat sarcastically while chuckling hard. “You’ll definitely have to pay the price of a fillet for another almost seven liters of my milk, Bill Jennings. Given that we heroines have come to this stage in adopting 41^st Century customs in less than two weeks, you don’t really think making a sow take that final transition to meat is going to bother us, do you, Bill?”

“I had my doubts, Zatanna,” Bill Jennings admitted with a silly grin on his face. “Cheryl, I already have a reservation for a table for two at La Parisian Mademoiselle for that Wednesday night—part of Susie’s birthday celebration. Could you inform Mike Simon that I’ll need a table for seven instead, as you’re invited as well? Bring both your Final Fantasy uniform shorts and an evening dress with you to work that Wednesday. You get to join my daughter in wearing a dress if Zatanna makes it, or if another heroine fills in, and I don’t need you for the milking stall and pendulum blade.”

“Sure thing, boss,” Cheryl replied with a smile on her face. “I really look great in an evening dress, so I hope our heroine friends all make it! Either way, it’s going to be a fresh fillet for me after a tableside short-drop hanging. I really enjoy a nice dance before dinner, and most girls prefer to leave the world dancing on air too! Oh Crap! It’s time to get back to work. I just heard a bus pull up outside.”

Chapter 23. Regular Season’s End Means Athletic Team Cuts – Cheerleaders First

Janet, Sue, and Zatanna quickly followed Cheryl over to her food-preparation counter, the heroines to stand with wrists bound behind their backs in front of it facing the open room, and Cheryl to stand behind the bar where she began to clean the blood from two very large conical bacon lumps, as the new group of people entered the dairy. Zatanna watched with interest as Bill shook hands with the oldest male who had entered the room while the younger looking boys and girls formed lines parallel to the far wall across from her. “It’s good to see you again Coach Taft!” the dairy owner said with a broad smile on his face. “Congratulations on a great regular season. I thought you were robbed when the judges stuck you with that loss. Well that’s gymnastics! I’ve bet more than a few fillets that the Dragons are going come out on top at tomorrow night’s Tournament Championship.”

“Thanks, Bill,” the balding man replied in a strong steady voice, “for lending the Metropolitan University Athletics Department your time and facilities yet again as we celebrate the end of another regular season. We do have two great gymnastics teams this year. I agree that the boys’ team was robbed of that win, and I also believe the two losses the girls’ team was tagged with could have gone either way. While I shouldn’t comment at all on bets, I must say I do believe the men betting against you are going to be the price of a fillet poorer after tomorrow night, and the girls betting against you are going to lose some weight as their chests get flattened. You remember my Assistant Coach, Paul Sacrino, the girls’ gymnastics team Head Coach, Sally Landry, and Cheerleader Coach, Meridith Harikito, don’t you?”

Bill Jennings nodded and then shook the hands of, first, a dark-haired male in his late thirties, followed by a brunette in her early thirties, and finally a raven-haired Oriental girl in her mid-to-late twenties, before Coach Taft continued with, “Good! This is Kristen Paulsen, first year Assistant Coach for the girls’ gymnastics team, and behind her we have the six members of the boys’ regular season gymnastics team, the six members of the girls’ regular season gymnastics team, and, finally, the ten-member cheerleading squad.” Bill stepped forward to shake the hand of a short-haired blonde in her mid-twenties and nod to the three lines of athletes, before Coach Taft barked, “Let’s give Bill Jennings a hand teams! He’s lending us his facilities so that we can make the requisite end-of-regular-season cuts and begin our pre-Tournament celebration.”

Zatanna watched as the coaches and teams, the males fully dressed and the girls completely nude, clapped hands until Coach Taft started speaking again, saying, “Thanks again, Bill, for all of your support. Okay, teams, I know you’re all nervous, wondering who will be cut, and wanting to move onto the celebration. Well, I’m eager to move onto the feast, get your bellies full, and then get you to bed early. Why? Because I want your best performances in the Tournament tomorrow night! Who’s going to win the Tournament Championship?”

The teams roared in unison, “METRO U DRAGONS!” Then the all-girl cheerleaders in the back row began dancing and screaming.

“Damn right we are!” Coach Taft barked back as he took command of the room. “Now, let’s get started with the team cuts and then onto our feast! The room is yours, Coach Harikito.”

“Cheerleaders, six paces forward and about-face!” the Oriental girl commanded, and then the cheerleaders, keeping their line perfectly straight, sifted with precision through the double line of gymnasts, and then spun counterclockwise to face the other athletes. Meanwhile, Bill Jennings hurried over to flick one of the many wall switches behind the gymnasts, causing a long, thin, horizontal bar to be lowered by cables on each end to a waist-high position just in front of the girls.

“Girls,” Coach Harikito announced in a calm voice as she walked forward to stand before the cheerleaders who were staring with trepidation at the bend-over bar, “as you know, a combined vote of both the boys’ and girls’ gymnastics team was taken to determine which one of you is going to be the live roaster for tonight’s feast. Before I announce which one of you girls has been selected for that honor, there is the matter of team losses. Tradition demands that one cheerleader be debreasted for each loss the teams took. Combined, our gymnastics teams suffered three losses, for which three of you will pay the price as an incentive for future cheerleading squads to cheer harder to make future gymnastics teams play harder. Which of you pays that price will be randomly determined, and may coincidentally include the girl who has been voted to be meat for tonight’s feast. If I could get some help, Mr. Jennings?”

Bill nodded to Cheryl, who walked out from behind her counter with her bucket of numbered cubes, which she handed to Coach Harikito before starting back towards her counter. The cheerleaders’ moment of truth, however, was interrupted by a dinging sound from the only still-occupied milking stall—Cheryl rushed over to fetch a plastic one-liter jug from a nearby supply case and then rushed back to the front of the milking stalls. As Cheryl unhooked Wanda’s milking tubes from her full ten-liter milk-storage tank one at a time, and thrust the tube ends into the top of the jug now sitting on the floor in front of the volunteer cow, Bill called out, “Sorry for the interruption, coach! That was bad timing for a particularly productive cow to exceed my equipment’s capacity. It’s taken care of now, but I may as well warn everyone that sooner or later she is going to run dry, which will be announced by an equally obnoxious beeping sound. This is a working dairy!”

“No problem, Bill,” Coach Taft replied with a chuckle, somehow assuming the apology was meant for him. “Once again, we appreciate the use of your facilities. I recognize the younger blonde who provided Coach Harikito with the lottery cubes as one of your waitresses. I assume the three sows with their hands tied are your particularly productive cow’s less-productive stable mates. I’ll tell you what, if that obnoxious beeping sound you warned about comes at a bad time, I’ll have all four cows stick their tits in a meat grinder while I personally spit your waitress’s fillet. I’ll pay you the price for both the fillet and the breast bacon, naturally. Get on with it, Coach Harikito!”

Zatanna shivered with fear as she watched Bill shrug his shoulders at an obviously concerned Cheryl with an unusually passive look on his face. It appeared that the 21^st Century heroines’ only 41^st Century male friend was reluctant to challenge a real alpha male, even on his own property. The raven-haired heroine hoped Wanda’s breasts had the good sense to run dry at a good time, or the four heroines and their waitress friend might pay some painful prices for their lack of courtesy. Meanwhile, Bill had walked over to stand behind the cheerleader lineup while their coach stirred the cubes in the bucket.

“Listen up, girls!” Coach Harikito called out, trying to regain control of her part of the end-of-season proceedings. “I’m going to move down the line, beginning with head cheerleader Nancy Boxleiter, with this bucket held over my head. You’re to each draw one cube, taking great care to keep it and the number on it concealed in your hand. Then I’ll walk back down to the start of the line and have each of you reveal the number you drew, one at a time, and have you place your cube back in this bucket. With Bill Jennings help, the girls who drew the cubes numbered one through three will be forced to bend over this waist-high bar, and be secured into that position with their breasts dangling downward while the rest of you remain standing where you are. Once I’ve collected all ten cubes, Mr. Jennings, beginning with the bent-over girl nearest the start of the line, will debreast the lottery losers, and keep the harvested breast bacon as a reward for letting us use his facilities.”

Coach Harikito quickly stepped before the foxy redhead at the end of the line nearest the entrance to the dairy with the bucket held high, and began the drawing. Soon the coach had returned to the start of the line with an empty bucket, to stand in front of Nancy while Bill stood behind her. “Okay, girls, let’s find out who pays the price for the gymnastics team losses,” Coach Harikito announced with an excited grin on her face. “We’ve had a great cheerleading season, and I look forward to working again with six or seven of you next semester as we cheer for the wrestling teams. I want to thank the three or four of you whose athletic careers end here today for your hard work and a really great time. Show us your cube, Nancy!”

The short redhead with a lovely face and flaming hair that ran all the way to her butt grinned with excitement as she made a point of staring down at the perfect pink-tipped C-cups now in jeopardy before opening her right hand to reveal the cube with a seven on it and tossing the cube into the bucket being held before her. The next cheerleader, a blonde, revealed the cube with a four on it as Coach Harikito stepped before her and Bill Jennings stepped behind her, and then disposed of the cube into the offered bucket with a grin of relief on her face.

As the cheerleading coach and Bill simultaneously sidestepped to take their respective positions in front and behind the next girl, a raven-haired black girl with swooping brownish-tipped B-cups, they heard her groan in disappointment as she unclenched her fist and saw the cube with a two on it before tossing the cube into the bucket. Bill quickly pulled the girl’s hands behind her back and pushed the loop at the end of a length of twine, lowered from a ceiling winch by Cheryl as she stood beside some wall controls near her counter, over her wrists before pulling the loop’s slipknot tight. Cheryl then operated the controls to rewind the winch, pulling upward on the girl’s arms and forcing her to bend at the waist until her back was horizontal with the floor.

“Joyce Edwards, you will be surrendering your breasts to help us remember the girls’ team’s first loss,” Coach Harikito announced loudly. “That was a close gymnastics match, with Dorothy Stanson earning the low score for our team when she failed to stick her vaulting horse landing. You had a great cheerleading career, Joyce—we thank you for taking one for your team.” The Oriental coach smiled down at the shivering black girl’s face and nodded before she, with Mr. Jennings shadowing her, stepped before the next girl.

The big-breasted brunette glanced down at her bent-over teammate with a grin on her face before slowly opening her clenched right fist—the smile quickly disappeared as the girl with drooping pinkish-brown tipped D-cups tossed the cube with a one on it into the offered bucket before being forced to bend over the horizontal beam by the retracting twine looped over the hands Mr. Jennings had quickly forced behind her back. “Kathy Howard, you will be surrendering your breasts to help us remember the boys’ team’s only loss,” Coach Harikito announced loudly as she stared downward into the face of the sobbing, blue-eyed girl. “Although that loss was contested, the score of the judge that awarded the lone six, between the other two judge’s nines, to Jonathan Zabriski for his still rings performance was upheld. You had a fine cheerleading career, Kathy—we thank you for taking one for your team.”

The coach and Bill sidestepped to take their respective positions in front of and behind a black girl who tossed a ten into the bucket, and sidestepped again to position themselves around a slender Oriental girl who tossed a cube with a six on it into the bucket. Sidestepping again, Coach Harikito and Mr. Jennings took their requisite positions before and behind another slim Oriental girl. This girl, with short black hair and tiny pinkish-brown-tipped A-cups sporting large erect nipples, held the cube with a three on it. The girl shrugged her shoulders before throwing the cube into the offered bucket and thrusting her wrists behind her back so that she could have them looped and used to force her torso above the bend-over bar.

“Tanya Olsen, you will be surrendering your breasts to help us remember the girls’ team’s second loss,” Coach Harikito announced as she smiled down at the sheepish grin the Oriental girl wore. “That was another close gymnastics match, with Dorothy Stanson again earning the low score for our team when she fell off the balance beam. You had a wonderful cheerleading career, Tanya, one that you should be proud of—we thank you for taking one for your team.”

Coach Harikito continued down the lineup to collect the last three numbered cubes into the bucket before returning to the start of the line and handing the bucket back to Cheryl, who had finished operating the wall controls. The coach grinned, beaming with obvious pride as she stared down the line of girls, three of whom were bent over at the waist, and chortled loudly, “Now it’s time for the big announcement. I know you girls can’t wait to find out who gets to be dinner!” The coach grinned as all ten girls began to shiver with anticipation as Mr. Jennings positioned a table between them and the gymnasts just past the end of their line.

With the table in position, Coach Harikito continued, saying, “It is with mixed emotions that I announce that the girl being live roasted for tonight’s feast will get to hear her breast fat sizzling as she is turned over the coals. The girl who received the most votes as most desirable dinner meat is your very own head cheerleader, Nancy Boxleiter—congratulations Nancy! What an outstanding honor for you and fantastic way to end your cheerleading career!”

Zatanna grinned as the redhead made it obvious that she agreed with her coach’s assessment of the situation—the fit-looking girl with flashing hazel eyes screamed, “Woohoo! Alright!” while pumping her fists in the air before joining a mass hug with her six unbound teammates. “I know you guys are really going to enjoy your meal tonight!” Nancy proclaimed loudly with a pretty smile on her face, after breaking the hugging huddle and moving to the table where she quickly took a seat, making no effort to hide the hairless vulva that would soon be speared. “Hey, Coach, who gets to give me my final fuck?” the redhead asked with laughter in her voice.

“Assistant Coach Sacrino will push, Nancy,” Coach Taft replied, once again assuming the question was directed towards him as he took control of the ceremonial activities. “One of the gymnastics team captains, or acting team captains, will likely be asked to position when the time comes. Get the sow’s hands tied Paul, and then let her feel cold metal in her vagina, cervix deep, until it’s time to make her meat.”

“You got it Coach Taft!” Assistant Coach Sacrino replied with a happy grin on his face. “This is one of the reasons I always look forward to the end of the regular season! A length of twine, Bill?” The dark-haired man grinned as Bill Jennings plucked a length of twine from the smaller of two silver trays carried by his waitress, who had returned from placing the bucket of cubes on her counter, and tossed it to him. The assistant coach quickly tied the redheaded cheerleader’s hands behind her back, forced her backwards onto her right elbow, snatched a replacement spit from a rack beside the nearby Jessica machine, and took a kneeling position on the floor in front of the table.

“Spread your legs, Nancy,” Assistant Coach Sacrino commanded sternly as he pointed the sharp point of the skewer towards the cheerleader’s hips. “I want to see what I’m aiming at. I would prefer that we do this without drawing blood until we have a positioner on the other end, and it’s time for your conversion to meat.

“Yes, Sir, Coach,” Nancy replied giggling with excitement. She slowly, sexily spread her long legs to expose her obviously moist, cleanly shaven sex to the room. She grinned happily as Assistant Coach Sacrino pushed the point of the spear between her labial lips, and moaned with sexual tension as the dark-haired man pushed the first approximately eight inches of the six-foot-long one-and-a-half-inch diameter rod into her vaginal cavity. When the coach grunted, and looked up at her with a questioning look on his face, Nancy chortled, “Yep! That was the spit tip reaching the back of my vagina. Push any further and I start to become meat on a stick!”

“Right, Nancy!” Assistant Coach Sacrino replied with a chuckle. “That’s what I thought. You’ve got all the steel you’re going to get for now, sow, so relax as best you can.”

“Yes, Sir, Coach,” Nancy said laughing. “The steel in my pussy feels really cool! Don’t be worried if I wiggle on it a bit while I watch my teammates get debreasted and then the other ceremonies. I want to see if I can sneak in a quick climax before I take the rest of the spit and I’m allowed to start my horizontal pole dance over the coals?”

“Well, I think that is your cue to collect your rewards for letting us use these fantastic facilities, Bill,” Coach Taft interjected with a loud chuckle. “Now that we know whose being cut from Coach Harikito’s cheerleading squad, I’d like to see those cuts finished so that we can move onto the requisite cuts from the gymnastics teams. I want to win tomorrow night, and so does Coach Landry. We both have team strategy meetings scheduled back at Metro U once the ceremonies are done here, before we return to Final Fantasy for our feast.”

“Okay, Coach,” Bill Jennings replied with a smile on his face. “This won’t take long—I’ve got a new, very efficient debreasting tool to put to use for the first time.” Bill turned from the addressing the coach to look at the three heroines standing in front of the food-preparation counter, and suggested, “You three might want to move over here to stand at the front of the room between the lineups of athletes, so you can better see the Zatanna used for the first time.” Bill smiled as the hand-tied heroines nervously complied, and then picked up the new invention from the larger of the two trays Cheryl carried.

As Bill held the instrument by its wooden handle before the three heroines, and showed them the thin, round, one-foot diameter metal hoop forming an ten-inch diameter circular opening that was attached to the wooden handle by a short metal rod, he said, “The hoop is made of the hardest steel available, and the inside edge has been honed razor sharp. You all already know how it’s supposed to work. Momentarily we will see if this instrument is going to make me a fortune.”

Before Bill could return his attention to the cheerleading squad, Coach Taft stepped forward to stand beside him. “I wager that instrument IS going to make you an even richer man than you are now, Bill Jennings,” the balding man said while chuckling as he brushed his right forefinger over the sharp inner edge of the blade. Then he reached over to lift Sue’s left and Janet’s right breasts as the heroines stared downward at the offending hands with obvious shock, but managed to keep their wits about them enough to resist protesting. “The blonde’s breasts might be adequate enough for your stalls, Bill, but I’m surprised you would even bother milking the smaller girl’s C-cups. Don’t you still have a whole herd of converted cows?”

“Yes, of course, Coach Taft,” Bill Jennings replied with a reddening face. “While the quantity of milk being yielded from a cow is the principal factor in determining a dairy’s profit margin, a good dairyman can’t ignore quality. I have reason to believe that Janet’s milk is going to taste really super! Why the sudden interest in dairy operations, Coach?”

“I’m actually not that interested in the dairy, Bill,” Coach Taft replied as he moved to stand in front of Zatanna and felt the firmness of the sides of her chest, waist, and hips with his hands. “As always, it is the girls I’m interested in. This one is in great shape, but maintains just a bit of baby fat. I’ll bet her flesh is nicely marbled. I appreciate the fact that you’ve left her wrists tied, along with the other two.” Coach Taft smiled at Bill, whose face was filled with obvious consternation, before turning back to Zatanna and commanding, “Go sit on the table beside the redhead with a spit tip in her twat, girl! You can watch the debreastings sitting down, while I decide whether to pay Bill the price of his blonde waitress’s fillet, or negotiate the price of yours! One live roaster won’t provide enough meat for our feast.”

“Do as you’ve been told, Zatanna,” Bill roared loudly as he watched the raven-haired heroine begin to open her mouth in protest of what she was being told. “You can trust that, seeing as we’ve already scheduled another session in the stalls for you, and my establishment’s most important benefactor is already counting on obtaining another consignment of your magically delicious milk, I will negotiate very diligently. If I believe for one second that you don’t have enough faith and courage to keep your mouth shut, I’ll have you gagged for all our sakes!” Bill and the Justice Leaguer locked eyes for a long second, before Zatanna nodded and hurried over to sit on the table, staring down at the thick metal between the redhead’s legs with obvious trepidation.

“Now, Coach Taft, while I don’t appreciate the way you’re trying to take advantage of my hospitality, I suggest we try to get on with these ceremonies,” Bill said softly and calmly to the balding coach while he stared into his eyes with obvious resolve. “However, first I’m going to make it clear that this is Cheryl’s day off, this isn’t Final Fantasy, and her fillet isn’t presently for sale. Her very scrumptious looking fillet is for sale at Final Fantasy several times a night, Thursday through Monday, between 6 p.m. and 2 a.m. If you want it, pay me the price for it there and then. As you heard me tell Zatanna, she and her friends, who are well known to be my chattel, are already committed to another milking session, and their milk has already been paid for. Final Fantasy prices do not apply to these cows, so I’ll warn you in advance that I doubt you have the price of one of their fillets in you and your fellow coaches’ combined bank accounts.”

“I think you’re getting soft headed towards sows, Bill, and that you underestimate my bank account,” Coach Taft replied angrily. “Get that dark-haired cow fitted with a spit, Coach Landry,” Coach Taft ordered with a glance over his shoulder. “At least she can learn the feel of being a sow while she watches our teams take their cuts, after which I’ll finish my negotiations with Bill, or just take what I desire! Harvest your breast bacon as soon as they are done fitting the spit in your cow, Jennings!”

Zatanna’s head was spinning as she watched the drama playing out before her, knowing she herself was at the center of that drama. She knew she was in danger of being put to a terrible death—she knew that she might soon be slowly impaled and then placed over hot coals to be leisurely roasted to death. She didn’t want to die and get eaten by a bunch of college kids. She knew that she could end that threat with a few quick backward-spoken spells. She glanced over to Wanda, still in her milking stall beside a completely full milk-storage tank and before a half-full liter jug—the auburn-haired Avenger shook her head and then nodded to Bill Jennings. Zatanna knew her friend was telling her to trust a 41^st Century male who they had both watched kill innocent girls this very day.

Zatanna watched the older female coach turn to the younger female coach and order, in a soft quiet voice, “Go fetch another spit from the rack, Kristen. I’m going to have you help me get it into her, and then you’ll get to hold it in place while I order our team cuts.” Zatanna watched with obvious concern as the brown-eyed blonde sporting perfect-but-small, pink-tipped B-cups hurried towards the Jessica machine while the older, blue-eyed, brunette with slightly drooping, brownish-pink tipped C-cups moved to stand in front of her.

As Zatanna watched wide-eyed as Kristen returned with a shiny silver spit, she started when Coach Landy placed her right hand on her heaving chest and started pushing, saying, “On your back and spread your legs, girl! You’re going to be given a chance to feel a spit slide up your vagina. Stay calm and keep your head until Coach Taft and Mr. Jennings settle their disagreement regarding your future. If you can’t keep still and make us accidently shove the spit point through your cervix, the argument will be over, and you’ll be meat!”

Zatanna looked into Sally Landry’s blue eyes, and saw something that told her the coach was trying to help her through this difficult moment. The magic wielder stared down at the sharp spit tip that the assistant coach was positioning above her hips, and shivered nervously as she slowly leaned back to let her right elbow support her weight. Zatanna worried that it was a mistake not to take action now—if the two women messed up with the spit tip positioning, she was fucked. Even if they did get it right, Bill might give into Coach Taft, who he obviously found intimidating, and she still might end up getting her final, cold-steel fuck. ‘Still,’ Zatanna thought, ‘if Bill planned on selling me out, I’d be wearing a gag. Bill knows what I could do!’ Zatanna spread her legs to let everyone get a clear view of her vulva.

Zatanna quivered with trepidation as she heard Coach Landry say, “Just take some of the spit weight, Kristen, while I do both the positioning and the pushing. I don’t want this fucked up. Coach Taft is, well, Coach, and Mr. Jennings is the man we have business with Friday night. If we get any part of this wrong, either man may end up having both of us on the back of a Jessica before the weekend is over!”

Zatanna moaned softly as she felt the tip of the sharp spear part her labial lips, and groaned as her lower lips were pushed open as the spit slowly slid past them into her vagina. As her vagina began to be filled, Zatanna realized it felt like she was being entered by a really well-hung stud. She moaned again, this time with sensual overtones—she really was being fucked with thick, cold steel, and, for now, it felt good. Then she felt a sharp pain as the point of the skewer bumped the back of her vagina, and she fought to stifle the sigh that accompanied climax. She blushed deep red as the two female coaches broke into laughter as they watched her female juices squirt out and coat the end of the thick rod. Then she heard Coach Landry announce, “She’s ready, Coach Taft, and still unharmed, Mr. Jennings.”

“Good, Coach Landry,” Bill Jennings said softly and calmly. “See to it that she remains both ready and unharmed, but able to watch the events as they unfold. You might also put some thought into how Coach and I might settle this impasse, seeing as I doubt he is going to wait to check out the Final Fantasy waitress with potential menu-item duties, and I’m not likely to change my mind.”

Bill turned away from the endangered Zatanna to look at his head waitress and principal assistant, as he instructed, “Give me the trays, Cheryl, so you can untie Sue and Janet.” The club owner and dairy man watched impatiently as the young blonde complied, and then ordered as he handed her the smaller tray, “Give that to Janet. She can carry the medical tray while Sue takes care of the cleaning and bandaging. It’s about time my chattel started earning their next meal.” Bill gave a carefully concealed wink to the two heroines, who didn’t appear very happy at losing their spectator status as Janet took the smaller tray, before handing the larger meat tray back to Cheryl.

“Okay girls,” Bill said softly to no one in particular, “let’s see if we can demonstrate routine efficiency in breast harvesting for punishment, penalty, or loss of a bet. That’s what Zatanna thought this hoop-blade design would be good for. Let’s try to be careful not to block anyone’s view.” Bill stepped over to stand beside the bent-over black girl with his entourage in tow behind him. He placed the hoop flat against the girl’s rib cage with her dangling right B-cup inside the cutout, grabbed her right nipple with his left hand and pulled downwards, and tugged outwards with his right arm, making sure to keep the blade parallel to the girl’s chest.

Joyce Edwards yelped loudly as the thin circle of metal passed through the lower base and exited the upper base of her right breast like a hot knife cutting through butter. The black girl began crying as she saw her B-cup drop away from her chest to pull downward on Mr. Jennings left hand, and then watched without blinking as that hand carried it by its erect nipple to the tray being held by the blonde waitress. As soon as the breast was deposited nipple up on the tray, the dairyman was pushing the hoop-knife against her chest again, this time with her left B-cup encircled by sharp blade. With a tug on her nipple, and a pull on the knife handle, Joyce’s left breast fell away from her chest, and was on its way to the meat tray as she sobbed loudly.

Kathy Howard watched with obvious horror as the man with the strange knife stepped past her sobbing, now breastless, teammate to stand just to the right of her. The brunette opened her mouth to beg, but her words ended up as a surprised gasp as she felt cold steel against her rib cage circling her dangling right D-cup. She moaned softly as she felt a downward tug on her erect, pinkish-brown, right nipple, as her boob was distended away from her chest, and then screamed shrilly as Mr. Jennings pulled the knife handle outward, and the base of her right breast parted from her chest with little resistance to the razor-sharp inner edge of the circular cutout. Like the girl beside her, Kathy couldn’t take her blue eyes off of the lump of breast bacon as it made its journey, carried by nipple between the man’s left thumb and forefinger, to the meat tray already containing two smaller conical lumps of flesh. Then Kathy again felt cold steel on her chest, this time circling her left D-cup. There was a pull on her left nipple, followed by agony as the sharp blade was dragged up her rib cage through the base of her tender flesh. The bawling Kathy watched for the second time as part of her body was passed to a meat tray, and the man stepped down the lineup to the next bent-over girl.

Tanya Olsen watched with amazement as the stocky man quickly and effortlessly debreasted her teammates with the bladed instrument that seemed to strangely carry the same name as the dark-haired girl who would soon be on tonight’s dinner menu. She grinned with excitement as she watched the man move towards her, unable to take her almond-colored eyes off of the, now bloody, hoop-knife. The Oriental girl shivered with anticipation as she felt cold steel on her rib cage around her right A-cup, gasped as she felt her turgid, brownish-pink nipple take the requisite tug, and yelped as the sharp blade was pulled through the base of her breast. “Bye bye, tiny right tit!” Tanya quipped as she watched her bacon get passed to the meat tray to be deposited nipple up. “Your turn to bite the dust, tiny left tit!” the short-haired girl proclaimed as she felt cold steel on her rib cage encircling her left breast. With a tug on her nipple followed by a pull on the strange blade, the man sent pain searing into the left side of her chest. Tanya yelped again, before calling out, “Oh DAMN! That hurt so good! Call me Tanya, or call me titless, but don’t anybody ever call me small tits again! Thanks, Mr. Jennings! I’m sorry that my bacon is going to make so few sandwiches for you to sell.”

“Not a problem, Tanya,” Mr. Jennings said with a loud chuckle. “A lot of people say smaller breasts make better tasting bacon. Now, my assistant, Cheryl, will deposit you and your teammates’ bacon at her counter and…. Oh! HELL! She did it again!” Bill said loudly in a mock grumble as he stared at Cheryl standing at the wall controls. “Your ceiling ropes have been given some slack, girls, so you can go ahead and stand. These other two girls will get your chests wiped clean and bandaged, causing most of the pain you’re feeling to go away, and then Coach Harikito will end this part of the ceremonies.”

With Janet kibitzing, Sue quickly moved down the lineup wiping off blood and bandaging the ugly chest wounds, while Bill operated the wall controls to retract the bend-over bar back into its ceiling recess and Cheryl untied the debreasted girls’ hands. Within a few minutes, Joyce and Kathy’s tears were all but gone, and Tanya was in the best of spirits. Coach Harikito then ordered, “Return to your original lineup positions, girls! All nine of you! As of tomorrow, you breastless girls are off the cheerleader squad, but tonight you feast with the rest of us. Move it!” With incredible precision, the nine pretty girls sifted through the double row of gymnasts, and about-faced to stand behind the other athletes.

Chapter 24. Regular-Season’s-End Athletic Team Cuts – Girls’ Gymnastics Teams’ Turn

Okay, teams, as you know, gymnastics teams consist of six members during the regular season, but only five athletes on each team are allowed to compete in the Tournament Championship,” Coach Taft said loudly facing the three rows of college kids. “In order to make sure all of our athletes compete as hard as possible all season long, tradition demands that the athlete being cut from the regular season roster pays a heavy penalty for their lack of training, skill, or hard work—a penalty that will never be forgotten, because the evidence of its having been paid will never go away. The girl and boy being cut from the team rosters will be docked immediately after each team’s roster reduction.”

As the front two rows of athletes gasped and looked jittery, Coach Taft barked, “Girls’ team first, Coach Landry! Select the athlete you’re taking off your team roster, and have her stand besides those cows, there, so she can have her breast tips and clitoris clipped off!” Coach Taft nodded to Sue and Janet, who had returned to their positions at the front of the room with Janet still carrying the medical tray.

“Girls’ gymnastics team, five paces forward and about-face!” Coach Landry called out loudly, pulling her attention away from the spit, now in Assistant Coach Paulsen’s control, and the raven-haired girl, who seemed to be wiggling her vulva over the deadly spear tip in her vagina just as much as the redheaded cheerleader was with her own skewer. The middle row of athletes quickly, but with far less precision than the cheerleaders had exhibited, sifted through the line of boys and nervously took positions as instructed.

Coach Landry hurriedly took a position in front of the six girls with her hands firmly on her hips, and pronounced with a frown, “You are a good team, girls, and we had a fine regular season. However, for me, this was a heartbreaking season. You could have been a great team, and we could have ended regular season undefeated. Because of that, I’m not going to feel bad about cutting the one girl who didn’t practice hard enough. Without that one girl, I believe the Metropolitan University Dragons are going to win the girls’ gymnastics team Championship Tournament tomorrow night. That girl is you Dorothy Stanson!”

Couch Landry looked straight into the eyes of a lovely green-eyed blonde with short hair who carried perfect pinkish-tipped C-cups and sported a yellowish landing strip above her vulva, and said, “Although I am aware there might have been some bad coaching advice that resulted in the poor vault landing, there is no excuse for gymnasts of our caliber falling off a balance beam. You just watched a cheerleader lose her boobs because of your mistake. Now you will suffer the worst penalty of all, Dorothy Stanson. A severe docking! Go stand between those cows, as Coach Taft directed, and wait for Coach to send a boy over to excise your sexual tips. MOVE!” The older brunette still wore a frown as she watched the blonde rush over to stand between the cows, with Sue to her right nearest the main entrance, shivering with obvious fear and regret, while the cows themselves looked confused and unsure of how to react.

Couch Landry shrugged, and said softly, “I hate this part of the season. No girl should be in Dorothy’s position, but she let herself down, as well as the rest of us. Now, before the unpleasantness begins, I have some things I’ve want to say.” Coach Landry let a smile fill her face as she announced, “This is the first time I’ve coached a team made up entirely of seniors in their last year of eligibility. To celebrate that unlikely occurrence, I’ve booked a table for the team at Final Fantasy for Friday night after their nightly lottery. Drinks are going to be on the house, but plan on drinking slowly at first.”

“The reason for going slow on the alcohol initially, girls, is that there is going to be a particularly fun event going on that fits you girls to a Tee” Coach Landry said laughingly with a growing grin. “A balance beam is going to be set up, and a large, huge-breasted bimbo is going to be foolishly challenging other girls to jousts with poles while the girls and she have debreasting mechanisms around their boobs. I’m told that whoever gets knocked off the balance beam will hang suspended by nooses around her breasts for a while, until the razor wire component of the devices slowly pulls upward through the noosed tits to send the girl breastless to the floor. I’ve bet Bill Jennings that you girls will send the bimbo home without breasts, while at least three of you still have your boobs. I’ve talked to you all one-on-one about this challenge—I know you’re all willing to take the risk.”

“Now, I’m going to make the night even more exciting with the following announcements,” Coach Landry proclaimed, happy to see the excitement on her girls’ faces. “My penalty for losing that bet, and I know that won’t happen, will be my being forced over a bend-over bar and casually debreasted, just as the three cheerleaders were today. Mr. Jennings’ penalty for losing if, no, when, he loses will be a fillet for each and every one of us. Finally, if both the girls’ and boys’ gymnastics teams win the Tournament Championship, and after I win that balance-beam-joust bet and finish my fillet, I’m going to do a stint in one of Mr. Jennings’ debreasting booths—any breasted girl or male will be able to send me home flat-chested. One of you gymnasts, boy or girl, could pop my balloons—or one of the coaches, or one of these cows. Heck, with two days of school left and a lot of loose lips in this dairy, and considering the high likelihood that both teams will win, who here thinks these C-cups of mine are going to be on my chest Saturday morning? Never mind! No need to state the obvious. Coach Taft, as you no doubt noticed, Mr. Jennings’ assistant, Cheryl, has handed him a small tray with the docking tools on it. How do you want to proceed?”

“Hmmmm?” Couch Taft grunted with a silly grin on his face. “Before I decide the answer to that question, Coach Landry, I think I’ll go ahead and answer your first question first, though the answer is indeed obvious. If you enter the Game Room at Final Fantasy Friday night, Coach, I’ll be out on the dance floor trying to jockey for position to be the first one to reach your debreast button—if our eating Bill’s cow tonight doesn’t piss him off enough to ban me from his establishment! I think you’ve come up with one heck of a fun idea, Coach Landry, and I sincerely hope some of the other girls in the dairy here today think so too! I hope four of you coaches, gymnasts, or cheerleaders will make Friday night the most famous two-team Tournament Championship celebration in the history of college sports, by entering the Game Room at Final Fantasy with Coach Landry, knowing full well you will all be getting your balloons popped along with Coach!”

Coach Taft chuckled loudly as the dairy became filled with nervous giggles, and then announced, “Back to the ceremonial business at hand. Normally the boys’ team captain docks the girl being cut from the girls’ team roster—that’s because the team captain is normally safe from being cut from the boys’ team roster, having earned the team captain position through hard work and practiced skill. Team Captain Jonathan Zabriski, I’m sorry to inform you that you will not have the honor of docking Dorothy Stanson. Although I did not agree with the six that idiot judge gave you for your rings’ performance, it did cost us the one win we failed to get. You are very much in jeopardy of being cut from the boys’ team roster, but I’m not yet ready make that cut official, and appoint an acting team captain.”

Coach Taft gave a short, fair-haired boy a withering glare before turning back to the middle of the room and ordering, “Bill Jennings, give the small meat tray with the docking tools on it to your blonde cow. She can do the docking before cleaning and bandaging the wounds with the resources your small-breasted cow carries on her tray. You can coach the blonde, if she needs it. You’ll help the Dragons out yet again, won’t you Bill?”

Bill watched as horror filled Sue’s face as she realized what Coach Taft was asking Bill to have her do, and quickly shook her head to indicate she wouldn’t perform the role she was being offered. Bill smiled to the blonde heroine and shrugged his shoulders before replying, “Sure, Coach Taft, I’ll have my chattel dock poor Dorothy while my small-breasted cow kibitzes and I provide guidance as needed. Though none of us are thrilled about taking over the duties that should be young Zabriski’s, we will help out in hopes that you will listen to the proposal Coach Landry will be making shortly regarding a substitute for Zatanna’s marbled meat.”

Bill Jennings smiled sheepishly as he watched Sue slowly nod with downcast eyes and resignation on her face, before continuing with his ploy by pointing out, “I believe Coach Landry wants you on the dance floor Friday night, Coach Taft, when someone poaches her freely offered breast bacon, and my cows want their stable mate with them when they do that prearranged stint in the milking stalls. I agree, Coach, that Friday night will be a two-team Tournament Championship celebration to remember, especially if four other girls participating in today’s celebration have the moxie to join Coach Landry in entering the Game Room—you are going to love being there on the dance floor before a debreast button, Coach Taft, because I have good reason to believe that Coach Harikito is going to make your choice of which debreast button to stand before somewhat difficult to decide. You’ll be joining Sally in making the balloon popping party most memorable, won’t you, Meredith?”

The dairy became filled with excited twitter as the lovely Oriental cheerleading coach nodded her head vigorously while wearing a broad grin. She giggled before admitting, “If we win a double Tournament Championship, the lock hasn’t been made that could keep me out of one of those booths Friday night, Mr. Jennings! I hope our teams do win, and know they can! It’s about time I felt what some of the girls on my squads feel at the end of almost every season, although I’ll see to it that my titties get poached in a slower and more interesting manner than my girls’ titties did a few minutes ago. You came up with a really great idea for Friday night, Sally—I hope you have another one in you for this afternoon! Seeing as men and breasted women can only harvest one set of breasts per hour at Final Fantasy, and we will both be in debreasting booths at the same time, I think it would be most interesting to see Coach Taft on the dance floor trying to decide which of our balloons to pop!”

“That’s enough of this crap, people!” Coach Taft spat angrily. “If Coach Landry has a decent proposition, I’ll consider it, but I doubt she can talk me out of spitting the cow on the table, whose fillet I’ve taken a real fancy for. I also really doubt the great businessman, Bill Jennings, is going to close his doors to ME because I converted one of his COWS into a live roaster after paying him a good price for the sow. Speaking of sows, you better get Dorothy Stanson’s hands secured behind her back and have your blonde cow start working on one of her nipples before my patience runs out, Bill. If Coach Landry and I don’t make it to those team strategy meetings and we don’t both win tomorrow night’s tournament, all this talk will be for naught, and your cow’s marbled fillet in my belly is going to be the only good thing that came out of this mumbo jumbo!”

Bill Jennings, his face filled with frustration and anger, nodded back to Coach Taft, and quickly walked over to the three girls at the front of the room across from the spit muffins sitting on the table. Without saying a word, he handed Sue the small tray of docking tools, removed one of the two twine lengths formerly worn by the heroines from Janet’s tray, and stepped behind Dorothy, who stood fidgeting nervously with a deer-in-headlights look on her face. Bill pulled the girl’s wrists behind her back and quickly secured them with the twine. Then he kicked at her ankles as he ordered, “Spread them and keep them spread, Dorothy, or I’ll slice your inner labia out of your vulva with a butter knife.”

Bill’s frown softened as the girl instantly complied and began quaking with fearful anticipation of what was about to happen to her. He stepped around the girl, took the tray back from Sue, and commanded, “You two stay where you are, at Miss Stanson’s side, but face each other. Take the docking tube, Sue, and, as slowly as you can manage it, take off her right nipple AND areola. A ceremonial severe docking involves removing all color from the breast tip rather than just the nipple turret.”

“You just slide the button on the outside of the tube’s barrel backwards, Sue, causing the two half-circle razor blades that start out closed at the business end of the tube to rotate outward and upward,” Janet explained nodding at the small, four-inch-long, one-inch-diameter silver tube on the tray, along with some other equipment, that Bill was now holding in front of her blonde friend. “Then you just push the open barrel over the tip of her breast and slowly allow the button to slide forward, being careful to gradually slide the tube towards her chest to compensate for the inward rotation of the blades as they….”

“Jeese, Janet, will you please shut your trap!” Sue roared with obvious furor as she snatched the docking tube off of the tray. “I was sitting just a few feet away from you when you received instructions on how to use these things at Club X a few days ago, watched you use it on a girl’s breast tips then, and watched Bill dock a high school teacher with this very tube earlier today. I don’t need your help! I’m not as blonde as I look! Don’t you dare say another word until Dorothy, here, is back with her teammates—unless, of course, you see that I’m about to mess up. That goes for you too, Bill.”

Sue stared at a shocked Janet, and then at a bemused Bill Jennings, to make sure that they had gotten her message, and then locked eyes with the quaking blonde gymnast, and said in a soft, calm voice, “Neither of us want to be standing where we are, Dorothy, but here we stand until we finish a cruel, but necessary ceremony. I need you to be calm, patient, and brave while we do something that will be bring horror and agony to you, and unpleasantness to both of us, and do it in a manner that will honor the traditions of your university and sport. Do you think we can manage that, sweetie?”

“I can, if you can…I think…uhhh…Sue, isn’t it?” the thin, five-foot tall, short-haired blonde replied with a sheepish look on her impish face and resignation in her watery green eyes. “I, at least, knew…at the start of the season…the girl who performed worst…during regular season…would end up…getting…docked. I had hoped…that Coach Paulsen…who told me how…she wanted the…vault landing…performed…would make sure…that didn’t count…towards this…roster cut. However…I knew…when I fell…off the balance beam…I would be…standing here…today…doing…this! Obviously…you couldn’t…know you…would be here…docking me! This is team tradition…it has to be done…and done right. Please get on with it, Sue!”

“Very well, sweetie,” Sue replied softly with a frown on her face. She concentrated, trying to remember the instructions she had heard given to Janet in every detail. Sue slowly lifted her right hand up and pointed the bladed end of the docking tube towards Dorothy’s face. She waited until she was sure the girl’s green eyes were fully focused on the business end of the instrument, and then slowly slid the blade control button backwards, compressing the spring meant to hold the blades closed. When the two, half-circular razor blades had rotated outward and upward until they were parallel with the tube barrel, Sue abruptly released the button, allowing the blades to flip back closed, perpendicular to the tube barrel, with a loud snap, causing Dorothy to jump with surprise.

“The next time you see the open blades, Dorothy,” Sue whispered softly, “you must give the docking tube your full attention. If you try to look away or close your eyes, tradition demands that I allow the blades to snap shut, as you just saw and heard, in a manner that takes less than your entire breast tip. That means that breast tip will have to take at least one more cut. If you give the docking tube your full attention as we proceed with the ceremony, I will do everything I can to see that you get one, slow, necessarily excruciating bite on each breast tip. Do you understand, Dorothy?”

“I do, Sue,” Dorothy replied in a quivering voice. “You’ll have my full attention. I won’t close my eyes…or look away.” Surprise filled her eyes as she watched the blonde cow drop the docking tube back on Bill’s tray.

“I know you won’t, sweetie,” Sue said softly. “I’ll give you your chance to prove us both right in a few short moments. First it’s time to honor those perfect breasts, looking so large on a smallish girl’s chest, for one last time before they are perfect nevermore.” The matriarch of the Fantastic Four gently lifted Dorothy’s tender C-cups, one in each hand, and carefully gauged the weight of each breast. Sue smiled as the girl moaned softly, and began gently stroking and caressing the undersides of both breasts with the fingers of her hands, teasing the volume of the sounds coming from the girl’s throat upward. The blonde heroine turned her hands over and started pulling and tweeking the pinkish nipples protruding from smallish, equally pinkish areolae with tripods formed by her thumbs, forefingers, and middle fingers—she smiled as the girl’s tender tips grew swollen under her tender touch.

Sue Richards bent her head downward and took Dorothy’s right nipple between her pink-lipstick-covered lips, gently suckled on the rubbery turret, swirled her tongue around the tumid tip, and then gently bit the nipple where turgidity became areola. The blonde heroine was rewarded with a loudening moan of pleasure that became a groan of sexual need followed by a gasp of sultry surprise. Sue slowly and purposefully changed nipples, and mouthed Dorothy’s left nipple in much the same manner as she had with the girl’s right, and was rewarded with the same moans, groans, and gasp. Then she straightened up and locked her blue eyes with the gymnast’s green eyes, and proclaimed, “I’m sorry, Dorothy, it is time. Your pretty nipples are nice and erect, and ready to fill the barrel of the docking tube. Keep your promise to pay attention, so that each breast feels the end of said barrel but once.”

“Yes, Sue, I will,” Dorothy replied softly wearing an expression that was both smile and frown as she watched the older girl reach toward the tray held by Mr. Jennings. “Thank you for honoring these breasts of mine, whose perfection will soon be terribly marred through lack of athletic excellence. That was very kind of you, and felt extremely nice. I need to tell you now, in case I am unable to maintain my composure later, that you should not feel any remorse for your part in this ceremony. I earned what I am receiving, and if my payment had not been at your hands, it would have been at the hands of someone much less gentle.”

“Thank you for saying so, Dorothy,” Sue said softly as she lifted the silver tube towards the girl’s apprehension-filled face, “and I’ll try not to let this bother me after I leave here today, as unpleasant as this is for both of us. You too must move forward in your life, after we have finished that which begins just now, as my thumb slides the button on this tube backwards.” Sue watched the gymnast’s eyes grow ever wider as she watched the thin blades gradually rotate open. The heroine couldn’t help but notice the short-haired blonde shiver with fear as her gleaming green eyes followed the open tube’s downward path to her giggling right breast. Sue Richards watched Dorothy bite her own lip as she saw her right nipple, growing ever more erect with each passing second, become surrounded by metal as Sue pushed the blade-tipped barrel forward. The blonde heroine saw the lone tear run down the gymnast’s face from her right green eye at the periphery of Sue’s vision as she concentrated on continuously repositioning the tube slightly forward as she let the twin blade edges rotate downward and inward toward the tip of Dorothy’s right breast.

Sue Richards heard the gymnast’s gasp of terror as she felt what Sue could see—the edge of the upper half-circular razor blade on skin just outside the areola’s pinkish margin. The heroine carefully verified that the lower blade edge was also touching skin—pale skin not pinkish areola. Sue knew from the lecture she had heard Janet receive at Club X that she no longer needed to adjust the position of the barrel—now, as she allowed the blades to rotate closed, the blade edges would drag the girl’s flesh into the end of the tube. The heroine concentrated on allowing the button to slide forward in a slow and steady manner. The gasp became a whimper of regret as the girl felt a slight pinch on her breast tip that soon included an itchy sensation. The whimper became a whine as the itch became pain as the rotating blade bit deeper, and then a shrill scream of agony as the blades closed and achieved amputation, allowing the Dorothy’s right breast a slight bounce and giggle as it became detached from the docking tube.

Sue watched Dorothy sob in disappointment as she raised the silver tube upward from the ugly wound at the tip of her right breast to show her the closed blades. Sue Richards saw the gymnast grimace as she watched the heroine slowly twist the tube until the closed barrel was pointed downward, while both girls joined the rest of the room in watching Bill Jennings push his tray under the docking tube. Sue slowly pulled the sliding button back, opening the blades, and heard Dorothy gag in disgust and horror as the tiny piece of flesh, formerly a living nipple and areola, dropped out of the barrel of the docking tube and onto Bill’s tray. Sue watched Dorothy’s unbelieving green eyes forlornly follow the treasured flesh’s downward path as Bill lowered the tray.

Sue Richards twisted the barrel of the docking tube back towards Dorothy’s face, and opened and then released the blade control button. She watched as the loud click brought the gymnast’s eyes back up, away from her severed flesh, to the cruel tube. Sue saw fear replace disbelief as she slowly pulled back on the button to open cruel blades. The heroine observed fear become horror as the girl watched the silver tube get lowered and then pushed forward over her turgid left nipple.

Sue saw horror become anguish as the blades, again constantly being deftly repositioned as they slowly rotated closed, began pinching Dorothy’s left breast tip, both blade edges just outside of color. This time a gasp of trepidation quickly became a long shrill scream of agony and loss. The scream became gags and sobs as the closed barrel of the docking tube was pushed before Dorothy’s face, and then slowly rotated to point downwards as the silver tray was brought upwards and underneath. As Sue pulled the closed blades back open, and a second piece of breast tip dropped downward to land beside the first, the gymnast sobbed loudly and shook with unimaginable disgust. Sue dropped the docking tube onto the tray, which Bill then lowered and pulled back, the gymnast’s forlorn eyes again following the path of her severed flesh.

Sue Richards looked across to a frowning Janet, her sadness-filled eyes telling her spunky friend of the regret she herself felt at being forced into the role of breast maimer. She watched Janet shrug and push her tray forward; Sue knew that was Janet’s way of telling her that a girl did what a girl was told to do in the 41^st Century, without hesitation or reluctance. Sue took a small square packet from the tray, tore it open to get a small tissue wet with disinfectant, and quickly went to work cleaning the wound at the tip of Dorothy’s right breast while the sobbing girl watched. She pulled a small round wrapper from Janet’s tray, tore it open, and peeled the back of a bandage away before carefully applying the bandage to the freshly cleaned wound. Sue, tore open another disinfectant soaked tissue packet, cleaned the girl’s left breast-tip wound, and then deftly unwrapped and applied another small circular white bandage. As the painkilling bandages allowed Dorothy’s sobs to subside, Sue opened a third cleansing tissue packet, watched as Janet pulled her tray back and Bill pushed his tray forward, and then carefully cleaned the bloody breast tips on Bill’s tray.

After her medical work was finished, Bill had pulled his tray away, and Janet had allowed Sue to dispose of the third wet sanitizing tissue on her tray, Sue slowly lowered herself to her knees. This caused Dorothy to start quaking in fear again, as she was reminded that the second, more terrible part of her docking remained to be carried out. The gymnast’s panic-filled green eyes flickered to-and-fro searching for the vacuum extractor and surgical scissors that would be used to terminate her sex life. Sue saw only confusion on Dorothy’s tear-stained face as Bill handed the heroine the six-inch-long, three-quarter-inch diameter, transparent tube, and explained, pointing at the sliding button on the outside of the tube, “‘Off’, the control’s forward setting, which the device is now set to is obvious, as is ‘on’, which you slide the button back to when you have the tube centered over her clitoris, Sue. The next one back, ‘DB’, which you hit when the tube becomes silent and stops vibrating after she’s been stretched to her limits, contracts and detaches the metal disk-like diaphragm-base of the unit, trapping and then exposing her stretched flesh for all to see. ‘DC’ activates the rotating mini-lasers on the inner edge of the basal diaphragm by remote control, which I assume you will use instead of the surgical scissors, and, of course, stands for declit. If you prefer the scissors, Sue, I can….”

“No, Bill, I prefer the remote-controlled lasers,” Sue hissed softly with a frown on her face. “Thanks for the explanation, really, but I would prefer to be left alone now. Being forced to do this to poor Dorothy really blows, even though I know someone else will be given the chore if I won’t do it. There is going to be real trouble if your ploy to….”

“Right, cow!” Bill barked loudly to end Sue’s words, which he correctly assumed would not be helpful to the situation if Coach Taft overheard. “You’ve been given a task to perform, and I’ve provided you with everything needed to complete it. Finish Miss Stanson’s docking, so that we can end this ceremony and move onto the boys’ team roster cuts.” Relief filled Bill Jennings’ face as he watched Sue nod, flash a silly embarrassed half-smile at him, and shrug her shoulders before turning her attention back to Dorothy. The blonde heroine obviously knew her words were about to either give Coach Taft a heads up that Bill was trying to manipulate him, or piss him off as he perceived a girl was misbehaving.

“Mr. Jennings is right, Dorothy,” Sue said softly as she stared up into the gymnast’s questioning eyes. “We have to finish your part of today’s ceremonies. First, however, let me tell you how proud I am of the way you handled the first part. Not many girls manage nipple and areola removal with so few screams and tears, and look you still have your feet positioned exactly the way Mr. Jennings told you to. This second part of the docking ritual sounds a whole lot worse that it really is. I know a girl, my twin who really looks just like me, who went through something similar last Saturday night. She survived to be in good spirits later the same night, so I know you will too. The pain from your breasts is somewhat manageable now, isn’t it?”

“Yes, Sue, the bandages have reduced the pain from my mutilated tips to something I can cope with physically,” Dorothy replied softly with a frown on her face. “The real pain is going to come when I have to look at my nippleless tits in the mirror, or, worse yet, let someone else see them. It’s not the pain accompanying getting my clitty rooted out that I worry about either, although I expect it will be quite awful. I don’t see how I’m going to manage the rest of my life not being able to cum! Where is the vacuum extractor, by the way, and what is that tube thing Mr. Jennings gave you?”

“There is no plus to having your body damaged, Dorothy,” Sue said softly, trying to work up the courage to do exactly that, yet again, to the younger girl, “so I won’t pretend everything will be perfectly fine when we are done here today. However, scars can be kept covered, especially those you’ve been, and are about to be, given. Also, you should know that many girls are able to reach sexual climax after their clitoral glans has been damaged—they just require more stimulation to reach orgasm. I’m not making you any promises—I just want you to leave here with some hope. In answer to your question, we aren’t going to use a vacuum extractor to stretch your clitoral shaft and prepare your little girl penis for its beheading with surgical scissors. This declitting tube was designed to do perform both functions with precision and efficiency. I’m afraid its ease of use does not bode well for womankind, and I abhor the fact that I’m about to become one of the few women to ever use a declitting tube on another girl. Shall we get on with it, and get this terrible experience over with?”

“Yes…Sue…go ahead…and take…my clitty,” Dorothy managed to choke out. “Let’s…end this! I…just hope…you are…right…about…clitless climaxes!”

Sue nodded and tried to look confident as she stared up into the gymnast’s teary green eyes. Then, holding the declitting tube with her thumb in the palm of her right hand, she slowly leaned forward to examine the girl’s vulnerable vulva, well displayed by her wide stance. At the apex of the delicate petals formed by the fleshy folds of the girl’s inner labia, and below the bottom of the gymnast’s neatly trimmed blonde landing strip, Sue could see the tiny button that was to be targeted by the tube in her hand—the tiny bulb that was Dorothy’s clitoral glans.

Sue frowned! It was her job to use the insidious instrument in her right hand to stretch the head of the girl penis and as much of the clitoral shaft below it as possible out of its protective cavity—it was Sue’s understanding that, when the declitting tube had finished its stretching, most of the clitoral shaft, before the tiny organ turned downward and split to form the crura, would be trapped above the device’s basal diaphragm. After the shaft was severed by the rapidly spinning laser projectors on the diaphragm, the remainder of the shaft would snap back into its cavity, leaving the severed ends of the delicate nerves that had once been a girl’s principal source of sexual stimulation buried deep within her body. She would then have to rely primarily on vaginal stimulation to reach climax—many girls did not have, or have sensitive enough, ‘G-spots’ to make that possible. What Sue was about to do could very well end any hope of sexual pleasure for Dorothy, and would most certainly cripple her sex life, but Sue knew she had no choice and would have to proceed with the gymnast’s declitting—IF she could get Dorothy’s clitoral glans to protrude enough above the level if her protective clitoral hood for the declitting tube to latch onto.

“I’m going to need to stimulate your little pleasure button, sweetie,” Sue said softly looking upward at Dorothy’s face until she saw the girl nod. Sue gently brushed the tiny glans with her right forefinger and then her left thumb, eliciting soft gasps from the gymnast. The heroine, deciding her digital manipulation wasn’t going to be gentle enough to do the job, put her hands on the girl’s widespread thighs, leaned forward, and began gently tonguing the tiny organ in a swirling motion. As Sue leaned back from the moaning girl’s sex, she smiled as she saw the clitoris had swollen visibly as it became engorged with blood, and nodded upward to Dorothy as she let her right hand drop from the girl’s left thigh, warning, “I’m going to touch you again, sweetie, this time with cool metal. When it starts, it shouldn’t hurt, but will feel quite odd.”

Sue Richards watched as apprehension filled Dorothy Stanson’s impish face, before the girl nodded downward to indicate she understood. Sue returned her own attention to the object the gymnast’s green eyes were locked onto, the transparent tube between widespread legs. The heroine slowly and carefully raised the bottom of the declitting tube towards Dorothy’s swollen sexual center until she thought the tube was centered just below the clitoral glans. Sue slid the control button backwards, and the tiny machine came alive with a barely audible whirring sound and a flurry of rhythmic movements within the transparent tube. The heroine then pushed the tip of the device firmly against the top of the gymnast’s vulva.”

Dorothy yelped in surprise and squealed, “What’s happening Sue? Something just squeezed and then tugged on my clitty!”

“Easy, Dorothy!” Sue implored with a concerned look on her own face. “I told you this would feel strange. A tiny, sticky-rubber-coated, doughnut-shaped diaphragm just contracted around your clitoral glans, retracted slightly into the tube, waited while another similar torus contracted around your organ to hold it in place, and then expanded and moved forward again to squeeze a little lower on your organ before retracting again. Then you may have felt the second torus make the same movements. Soon, all of the tori in the tube will be doing this little mechanical dance, and there are quite a few of them. It doesn’t hurt, right? It just feels strange? This squeezing and tugging sensation is going to continue relatively unchanged for a minute or two, sweetie!”

“Sorry, Sue,” Dorothy replied with a look of embarrassment on her face. “No, it doesn’t hurt. I just wanted to know what was happening.”

“That’s okay, sweetie,” Sue said softly. “I would want to know what was happening to my love button as well.” Sue stared with amazement as she realized she could see the bulbous tip of gymnast’s clitoris in the bottom of the transparent tube, and gradually being pulled ever further up the tube barrel by the dancing rubber-coated diaphragms. “Go ahead and enjoy the strangeness of it all, Dorothy, but let me know if it starts to hurt or becomes terribly uncomfortable. This won’t take all that long.”

Sue watched Dorothy nod, moan softly, and then close her eyes so that she could concentrate on the strange sensation emanating from her sexual center. The heroine assumed the gymnast was forming a mental picture of what she herself could see—the most tender flesh a girl possessed slowly worming up the barrel of the transparent tube. Sue could already see more than a half inch of girl penis in the tube barrel! It didn’t look all that different from a clitoris stretched by a vacuum extractor or by force-field rings in a debreasting booth—Sue assumed the gymnast had at least seen pictures of one of those forms of clitoral stretching, this being the 41^st Century after all.

As the seconds slowly passed by and Sue watched the gymnasts clitoris slowly pulled further into the barrel of the declitting tube, Dorothy’s moans gradually became louder. Now, with almost a third of the transparent tube barrel filled with stretched pink flesh, the gymnast was groaning with discomfort. “Can you stop now, Sue? This feels weird…and uncomfortable…I think my clitty is about to tear apart!”

Sue glanced to Bill Jennings, and saw him shake his head, before replying, “No…I’m sorry…sweetie…but I can’t make it stop…just yet anyhow. I don’t think your little organ will tear apart. The machine is pretty smart—the tugging is supposed to stop before the tension exceeds your organ’s tensile strength. I don’t think there are many seconds left to go, Dorothy.”

A few seconds later, the whirring sound did come to a grinding halt, with just short of two inches of severely stretched clitoral tissue in the declitting tube barrel. “There we are sweetie,” Sue said softly looking up to Dorothy, “that part is done. In a minute, I’m going to make all but the bottom diaphragm release your sexual center. That bottom diaphragm will pinch you even harder, but won’t cause damage, and then you’re going to feel strange again as your stretched flesh slowly regains its natural form, while being prevented from retracting into your clitoral shaft’s cavity by the disk-like bottom diaphragm. Are you ready, Dorothy?”

“When I…when my clitty…regains its real shape…you’re going to…kill it…right, Sue?” Dorothy Stanson asked in a soft quivering voice as she stared downward into the frowning face of the blonde stranger below her. She watched as the blonde cow’s frown intensified, before Sue nodded and then looked at the floor. “Yes…I’m ready, Sue,” the gymnast said loudly enough for the room to hear.

Sue looked back upward to see resignation on the impish face of the girl being penalized for a less-than-spectacular college gymnastics season, and then back downward to the declitting tubes sliding control button. The heroine carefully slid the button backwards into its third position, heard Dorothy gasp with surprise as the pressure on the gymnast’s clitoral shaft just above her hood abruptly increased, and then felt the tube end come free of the girl’s pelvis. Sue stood and gave the gymnast a long hug as she moaned at the strange sensation her malleable flesh was making as that portion above the disk-like diaphragm slowly un-stretched. Then Sue stepped back to the side of the gymnast and took her knees. Dorothy’s clitoris was almost back to its natural shape, with just less than a half inch of girl penis protruding below the declitting tube base.

Sue Richards shook her head softly as she watched Bill Jennings set his small meat tray on the floor between Dorothy’s legs, and then straighten up to watch the blonde heroine do her terrible duty. That heroine, Sue, frowned, and then gave into cruel reality, as she asked with a look of frustrated resignation on her face, “Are we ready, Dorothy? Do you wish to rejoin your team with the requisite penalties fully paid?”

“Yes, Sue,” Dorothy Stanson said with unexpected calmness while staring at the lineup of female gymnasts who stood staring at her aghast, “I’m ready to surrender my clitty as a penalty for foolishly falling off a balance beam. Sorry, girls, I won’t take full responsibility for the vault landing that cost us the other loss. I expect you to win the Tournament Championship tomorrow night. GO DRAGONS!”

Sue Richards immediately pulled the sliding button back into its final position, and watched as the disk trapping the girl’s flesh out into the open begin to vibrate as a small ring with four tiny lasers having emitters angling slightly downward toward the center of the diaphragm began spinning rapidly. The heroine saw a red glow and wisps of smoke as the lasers began cutting into the trapped flesh they circled. Sue heard Dorothy issue a long shrill scream as she felt the lasers burning through her tender flesh until the nerve-rich core of the organ was finally severed. Sue Richards watched with wide-eyed disgust as, accompanied by an audible snap as the remaining severely stretched clitoral shaft sprang back into its cavity, clitoris and metal diaphragm both dropped away from the screaming gymnast’s vulva to land on a metal meat tray beside two severed breast tips.

Sue dropped the declitting tube onto the meat tray, and then took and opened the small eyedropper bottle from the tray Janet had suddenly thrust between the gymnast’s unsteady legs as the gymnast gagged and gasped in agony. The heroine deftly inserted the tip of the eyedropper into the indentation at the top of a vulva now devoid of clitoral glans, and squirted the disinfectant and pain killer into the narrow cavity. Next Sue tore open a small bandage wrapper and applied the circular patch to the top of Dorothy’s vulva. Then she tore open one of the disinfectant tissue packets, picked up the small severed organ from the smaller tray as Janet pulled her tray back, and carefully cleaned it with the wet tissue while the sobbing girl above her watched with horror in her green eyes. Sue Richards returned the decapitated clitoris, which she herself had sent tumbling from a young girl’s vulva, to its position on the meat tray next to severed breast tips.

Sue stood, watched as Bill Jennings retrieved the small meat tray form the floor, and then gave Dorothy another long hug. Then, as Bill handed her the small tray and began untying the gymnast’s wrists, the heroine chirped, “Go ahead and rejoin your team, sweetie. Your part in today’s ceremonies is finally over. You were braver than I could ever imagine myself to be!”

Sue watched as Dorothy smiled at her compliment, and then, as her hands were freed and Mr. Jennings put her wrist twine in his pants pocket, the gymnast stepped over to receive hugs from her teammates and Coach Landry. “Girls’ gymnastics team,” Coach Landry called out when the hugs were done, “we have cut our team roster by one girl, as tradition and Tournament regulations dictate. Though Dorothy Stanson will not be competing with you tomorrow night, she will celebrate with us at tonight’s feast, and take pride in your victory when you win the Tournament Championship tomorrow night. Five paces forward and about face!” As the six gymnasts quickly sifted through the lineup of boys and retook their positions, Coach Landry announced, “Boys’ team is up, Coach Taft. I hope the boy you cut from your roster handles his penalty as well as Dorothy did.”

Chapter 25. Regular Season’s End Means Athletic Team Cuts – Crucial Negotiations

“What the hell?” Coach Taft roared as a loud beeping sound rang out from the lone occupied milking stall just as he was about to address the lineups of athletes again. The beeping sound ended nearly immediately, and as the balding man turned to see what was causing the ruckus, he could see why. Cheryl had already been standing in front of Wanda’s stall, ready to switch her milking tubes from the nearly full one-liter plastic jug in front of her to an empty one she had placed beside it. Bill’s cow had produced a prodigious nearly eleven liters of milk in one afternoon. “Are you girls trying to intentionally ruin this ceremony? Damn it Bill Jennings, it is within my rights to spit that waitress of yours, along with the two sows already on the spitting table, after I’ve forced your other three cows to stick their tits in a meat grinder as punishment for the big-titted one’s bad timing!”

Bill Jennings’ face reddened as he grew more perplexed at Coach Taft’s behavior. “Come on, Coach Taft, I told you this was a working dairy, and I told you Wanda would run dry sooner or later,” Bill replied loudly with obvious irritation. “If you choose to hold your end-of-regular-season ceremonies in a freely provided facility, you should learn to put up with that facility’s shortcomings—a great facility with few short comings, and free save for a few sets of predominantly smallish breast bacon lumps, I might add.” Bill noted that Coach Taft looked quite surprised at his protest, and possible more than a little peeved, but felt he couldn’t allow the hero-to-most-of-the-community to back him any further into a corner. If that meant Zatanna got roasted tonight, so be it.

Bill watched as an obviously worried Cheryl freed a tired-looking Wanda from her milkers and untied her elbows and wrists, before telling her, “You’re done for the day, Cheryl. Tell the pit attendants that we will need four of them to carry two live roasters to the coals in about ten minutes, and then send someone in from the kitchen to transfer the breast bacon we collected today to the meat lockers. You were fabulous today, both in the stalls and helping run the field-trip demonstrations. No one could possibly have guessed that this was your first visit to these dairy facilities. I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

“Hold it right there, Bill,” Coach Taft called out loudly. “You too, Cheryl. I may be an onerous old man, but I’m not a stupid one. When something has been taken too far, it needs to be settled. The way I see it, that is where we’re at now. Cheryl I want you and Wanda to come and stand here before me so that I can get a better look at you while Bill and I work things out.” Coach Taft smiled as he saw Bill Jennings shrug his shoulders and nod to Cheryl, and then watched as she followed the auburn-haired cow around the back of the milking stalls. He noted the cow take a good hard look at her raven-haired friend as she walked past the spitting table, and then at the spit with its tip in her friend’s vagina and presently being controlled by Coach Landry, before slowly shaking her head negatively as she looked back into the raven-haired cow’s eyes. Coach Taft had been around long enough to know trouble when he saw it, and, although he didn’t understand its nature, he knew he was seeing trouble now!

Coach Taft smiled as the two girls parked themselves in front of him as he faced away from his athletes, reached out to place an arm around each girl’s back, and gave them a quick simultaneous hug, startling both girls badly. “I know when it’s time to apologize to a pair of pretty girls, girls, for being a cantankerous son-of-a-gun. Cheryl, you do look good enough to eat, well you both do actually, but I’m not going to spit either of you ladies today. I’m not going to be grinding up any breasts either, especially such productive tits as yours, Wanda. I was just blowing off some of the steam that’s been building up inside me—did you girls hear, the Tournament Championship is tomorrow night? I’m sorry if I caused either of you any worries about yourselves. Okay, Coach Landry, if you can do so without damaging that fillet I’m hoping to have for dinner tonight, tell us all how Bill and I are going to settle our little impasse.”

“Well, Coach, as you suddenly seem to be in a particularly reasonable mood,” Coach Landry started out slowly and calmly in a soft but clear voice, “I’ll tell you the unpleasant part of my solution first. You are not going to spit, roast, and eat this dark-haired cow now at the pointed end of my skewer—at least not today. Maybe Bill will deliver her marbled fillet to you after she’s done that other milking stint he said he has planned. However, I agree that Nancy isn’t going to provide enough meat for tonight’s feast, although I’m sure that what she does provide will be most tender and delicious. The lynchpin for settling you two men’s impasse is the providing of a long pig instead of another live roaster to be put over the coals this afternoon. Do you think you could go for that?”

“Possibly, Coach Taft, though I really do have my heart set on that particular fillet,” Coach Taft chuckled, the smile he wore a good sign for most everyone in the room. “Let’s hear the details of your solution, Coach Landry. However, I better warn everyone, even if I like Coach Landry’s solution, I’m going to want some additional concessions from Bill and his chattel, and even you coaches and athletes. Speak up, Coach Landry!”

“Yes, Coach Taft,” Coach Landry replied softly. “As I informed everyone earlier, I have a bet with Mr. Jennings regarding the outcome of some jousts on a balance beam Friday night. I’d like my girls to see the debreasting equipment in action ahead of time, so they won’t worry about how the equipment works, and get to see a pair of breasts hit the cement floor as an added incentive for them to try and keep their breasts from hitting the nightclub floor Friday night, at least until I win the balance beam bet. Bill Jennings has set up the debreasting nooses in the corner of the dairy, here today, under a stool with a hangman’s noose over it. If I get my demonstration of the debreasting equipment right now, and you have Bill put the noose over the demonstration girl’s neck after playing out enough rope to make it a long-drop hanging, we have our long pig for roasting after either the sound of a neck snapping or the sight of a nice air dance. How does that sound, Coach Taft?”

“Possibly acceptable, just possibly, with those concessions I mentioned,” Coach Taft said chuckling loudly. “Who are you going to hang, Coach Landry? If it’s to be one of your gymnasts, it will have to be the girl, Dorothy, you just cut—you need the rest of the gymnasts for the Tournament. Docked tits dropping to the floor comes up a tad short aesthetically, don’t you think? How about one of the cheerleaders? Have you talked to Coach Harikito about that?”

“No Coach, I haven’t discussed this with Coach Harikito,” Coach Landry replied softly, “and being female, I’m not going to hang anyone—you are! I’m not proposing we hang one of the cheerleaders, although I hope some of them will join myself and Coach Harikito in the debreasting booths if both the girls’ and boys’ gymnastics teams win the Tournament Championship. I’m proposing that you order Assistant Coach Paulsen onto the tall stool so that Mr. Jennings can put the debreasting equipment onto her small breasts and a noose around her neck, Coach Taft!”

Coach Taft and Bill Jennings simultaneously roared with laughter as everyone else in the room, especially Kristen Paulsen, looked stunned. As both men regained their composure, Coach Taft asked, “Why Assistant Coach Paulsen? Let me guess—is it because she wouldn’t give into your sexual advances, Coach Landry?”

Coach Landry blushed red with embarrassment before admitting, “Partly! I admit it! However, my recommendation is primarily due to her poor coaching. This way there won’t be any paperwork to fill out to get her position vacated.”

“I support Coach Landry’s solution to our meat problem, Coach Taft,” Assistant Coach Sacrino interjected with a chuckle. “Just in case you’re wondering, it was her nomination for long pig that sold me. Kristen wouldn’t put out for me either…at least not voluntarily!”

“HELL!” Coach Taft roared. “I must be getting old! I never guessed, Paul. What are your thoughts, Coach Harikito?

“I say hang Assistant Coach Paulsen by her tits until they fall off, and then let her air dance until she’s meat!” Coach Harikito chortled loudly while giggling. “In case you’re wondering, she did not get my vote for sexual reasons. Her bad advice to Miss Stanson on her vault landing cost our team a win, and one of my cheerleaders a less than satisfying debreasting.”

“HEY!” Kristen Paulsen yelled loudly with apprehension evident in her voice. “Don’t I get a say in all this? If you are threatening to hang me because I wouldn’t put out, that’s just sick! If you’re threatening to do this to me because you think I did my job poorly, you need to take it up with the Athletics Director! Now shut up and….

“No, YOU shut up, sow!” Coach Taft barked angrily. “Now go over to the stool in the corner of the room, climb up on it, and stand there while you wait to see if I get my concessions. You won’t get hanged if I don’t get my concessions, Assistant Coach Paulsen, but you are going to be our debreasting demonstration girl either way. Go hook her up, will you, Bill? However, keep an ear open; I’ve got selfish demands for you and your chattel to meet if I’m going to give up on the idea of having your raven-haired cow’s fillet for dinner tonight.”

“Sure thing, Coach Taft,” Bill Jennings replied with a grin on his face. “The girls and I will grant any reasonable requests that lead to keeping the front row of milking stalls filled for their next visit to the dairy. Move it Miss Paulsen! There is no avoiding this for either of us!”

Bill deftly herded the small-breasted brown-eyed blonde to the back corner of the room, switched the positions of the small and tall stools under the noose furthest back in the room, and commanded as he pulled the length of twine from his pants pocket, “Face your athletes with your wrists crossed behind your back, Assistant Coach Paulsen. I want you to show your teams courage and dignity as I secure your wrists for your debreasting and perhaps more.” Bill smiled as the girl immediately complied, and quickly busied himself with his twine work.

“Well done, Kristen,” Bill Jennings said calmly at a level just loud enough for everyone in the room to hear. “We will be using the rear noose station, which is why I switched the stools. While I steady you, step up onto the short stool and then step up again to perch on the tall stool. Then I’ll lower some equipment, which the girls’ gymnastics team will be particularly interested in seeing, out of the ceiling by flipping a winch-control switch—yes I know, you can’t wait to see the debreasting nooses either.” Bill chuckled jovially as the assistant coach glared at him before taking one stool and then the other as he steadied her with his hands around her left elbow.

Once the assistant coach seemed to have her balance standing on the tall stool, Bill flipped a wall switch downward, causing a ceiling panel to open up, and some rope to lower. Attached to the bottom of the rope was double-noosed, three-eighths-inch thick transparent plastic line. When the nooses were just less than breast high, Bill returned the switch to its neutral position and the lowering stopped. He then stepped in front of Kristen, and pulled on the slip knots to cinch the breast nooses, one at a time, tightly around the bases of the assistant coach’s B-cups, causing them to become little balls of rapidly reddening trapped flesh on her fair-skinned chest.

Bill quickly moved back to the wall switch, and commanded, “Up on your tippy toes, Miss Paulsen.” He watched the assistant coach glare at him again with obvious displeasure before staring back out into the empty milking stalls and pushing herself upward onto her toes. Bill quickly flipped the switch upward to make the hidden winch rewind, taking up the slack in the rope-plastic line assemblage until the nooses pulled upward on Kristen’s breasts and constricted even more tightly into their bases. When the girl started gasping in discomfort, Bill returned the wall switch to its neutral position. He looked thoughtful and flipped the switch again to give the breast ropes some slack, knowing the nooses cinched into the girl’s breast bases wouldn’t loosen without help.

“Stand still and keep your balance, Miss Paulsen,” Bill Jennings said calmly and clearly, “or you’ll debreast yourself before you find out if Coach Taft is really going to go through with this. As we all know, Coach can be a bit unpredictable. I may get my wish and put a noose around your neck as my cow gets that sharp spit pulled out of her vagina, but I won’t be entirely flabbergasted if he decides to ruin the Friday night entertainment Coach Landry has planned for most of the rest of us by letting you off the stool before making Zatanna dinner meat. What is it going to be, Coach Taft? You were talking about some concessions you wanted in return for our Friday night plans getting put back on track; let’s hear them before Assistant Paulsen’s balance fails and this demonstration doesn’t go as Coach Landry and I planned.”

“Fine, Bill, I’ve got concessions, sometimes multiple concessions, I want from, or for, most everyone here,” Coach Taft replied chuckling loudly. “Since you mentioned Coach Landry and her Friday night plans, we’ll start with her. Coach Landry, if I trade Zatanna’s marbled fillet for young Nancy’s, while you yourself settle for Assistant Coach Paulsen’s fillet, you’ll be expected to position for Nancy’s hand spitting….”

Zatanna began wiggling her hips ever so slightly to increase to sensation of the sharply pointed spit so deep in her vagina, as she listened to the negotiations for her life begin in earnest. If those negotiations were successful, Zatanna wanted to remember the strangely sexual sensation of cold, thick steel buried deep in her sex and about to impale her as clearly as possible. She was sure she would have either nightmares or wet dreams about this day for the rest of her life—and she wasn’t sure which—if she was suddenly set free to watch the assistant coach hang and take her place on the dinner menu.

Zatanna listened as Coach Taft paused in his request and Coach Landry interjected with a smile on her face, “Sure Coach, I’ll position for Nancy. I’ve positioned for hand spittings several times before.”

Zatanna watched as Coach Taft frowned slightly as his negotiations were rudely interrupted, but as he continued with, “…and be expected to pull the cord attached to Assistant Coach Paulsen’s stool perch when I give the word…” he decided it was an interesting way to hear the concessions he asked for made, so he paused again.

“No problem, Coach!” Zatanna heard Sally reply while wearing a mean grin on her face. “I planned on using her to demonstrate the debreasting nooses she is now wearing before we arrived at the dairy, and converting her to long pig was my own suggestion to solve our meat problem.”

Zatanna saw Coach Taft nod, his frown softening as he continued, “…while Zatanna services your sexual needs to show her gratitude as we watch the docking, impaling, and three-noose hanging.” The Coach wore a grin as he watched Coach Landry’s face light up, while Zatanna heard herself gasp in surprise at what she was hearing.

“That sounds GREAT to me, Coach!” Zatanna heard Coach Landry zestfully proclaim while grinning ear to ear. Then the brunette turned to her and asked with a gleeful smile on her face and excitement in her gleaming blue eyes, “Would a little pussy licking be too high a price to pay for a chance to do another milking stint, Zatanna? I assume you know how to bring another woman to orgasm.”

Zatanna blushed badly as she dared to speak for the first time in many minutes, “Yes, Sally, I know what to do. I’ve dabbled at switch-hitting from time to time, but was never tempted to join the all-girl’s league—I get my home runs when it’s men making the pitches. However, I’ll happily lick lips and pleasure buttons for as long as it takes to get this meat skewer out of my vagina.”

“Are you fine with your cow servicing Coach Landry, Bill, IF I end up letting her turn down the honor of switching from lowly cow to venerable live roaster?” Zatanna heard Coach Taft asked while chuckling with a mischievous grin on his face as he watched her continue to squirm.

“Yes, Coach Landry, I’m fine with Zatanna getting Coach Landry off while we watch several interesting occurrences going on around us at the more or less the same time,” Zatanna heard Bill Jennings reply with a chuckle of his own. “These girls, my chattel, are not particularly troubled about having sex with strange men…or women it would seem. All of them have already done so today; three of them even allowed boys to have vaginal intercourse with them!”

Zatanna knew she and her friends were really in for it now, even before she heard Coach Taft chortle loudly, “That’s good to know, Bill, because if Coach Landry is going to have sex while one of my boys gets docked, we’re turning this into an orgy. Which cow do you want servicing you, Bill?”

Zatanna turned her full attention to Bill Jennings, momentarily forgetting about the spit spearing her sex. She could see the wheels turning in his mind, and wondered how he was going to get out of breaking his promise not to have sex with any of the heroines in the dairy, or if he would even try to keep that promise. She was surprised when he replied with the truth, “In any other venue, I would be happy to have a romp with any of these girls, Coach Taft. However, I have a contract with them and the people who agreed to let them do stints in the milking stalls, that I wouldn’t have sex with any of them in this dairy. I’ll happily pair with….”

“Your lovely waitress, Cheryl, naturally!” Zatanna heard Coach Taft conclude, and begin roaring with laughter as the waitress blushed badly and looked like she was going to cry.

“No, Coach Taft,” Zatanna heard Bill retort loudly, also looking very uncomfortable. “As Cheryl herself pointed out earlier, if a waitress is seen to have, or is even suspected to have had, romantic relations with me, she becomes a threat to her fellow waitresses who will likely quickly maneuver her onto Jessica’s back. Cheryl is too valuable to have spitted just yet. Besides, I ordered her to go home!”

Zatanna was perplexed as Coach Taft broke into more laughter at Bill’s reply, and then barked, “I’m not letting you deny your employee the rare opportunity of watching a male docking, Bill Jennings. If you want to pretend you don’t want her on the floor in front of you, here today, with none of your other employees around to see it, so be it. However, she’s part of the orgy! You wouldn’t mind giving Assistant Coach Sacrino head while he handles the pushing end of Nancy’s hand spitting, would you, Cheryl? I had planned on asking Coach Harikito to take care of Paul’s needs, but I’m sure he wouldn’t mind pairing with a young blonde with a tasty looking fillet.”

Zatanna noted that Cheryl looked genuinely scared to death as she paused, and then replied without her usual glance to her boss, “If it’s a choice between getting my fillet purchased the next time you see me at work while I’m on potential-menu-item duty, Coach Taft, or performing fellatio on a handsome man while my boss watches, I’ll perform fellatio any day. What Mr. Jennings said about romantic relations is true, and if we paired, the other waitresses would know it by just looking at me the next time I went to work. I’ll happily pair with you, Coach Sacrino, and I think you’ll be happy about it too.”

“I’m sure Paul will be,” Zatanna heard Coach Taft chortle. Then he turned to Cheryl and said in a soft serious voice, “I’m sorry if I’ve been teasing you too hard about purchasing your fillet, Cheryl. The truth is, I like a little melanin in my meat, which is one of the reason’s I find Zatanna’s fillet so enticing, and still haven’t given up on having it. I promise that I will never ever buy your fillet, for myself at least, while I’m at Final Fantasy, and I rarely pay the price of a fillet for someone else. Now that we’ve seen to Paul’s needs, there are still the matters of Bill’s needs and mine.”

While Zatanna was marveling at the sudden calmness that had replaced Cheryl’s formerly fearful demeanor, she was surprised to hear Coach Harikito announce, “I’ll gladly pair with Mr. Jennings, Coach Taft, unless you want to pair with me or Bill would rather pair with one of my cheerleaders.”

Zatanna watched as Coach Taft chuckled and then nodded, before saying, “You got her if you want her, Jennings!”

“I do, Coach,” Zatanna heard Bill say, before continuing to her surprise with, “I’ve had my eyes on Meredith for some time. How else would I have known I could get her to let us pop her lovely C-cups if both boys’ and girls’ teams win the Tournament Championship.”

Zatanna watched as Coach Taft roared with laughter yet again, before he turned back to the three rows of athletes, and said, “That reminds me! How do I know for sure that all five booths will be filled when Coach Landry fulfills her promise to take a booth? Isn’t that going to be a hard sell to you girls, knowing for sure that all five debreast buttons are most definitely going to get pushed?”

A nervous knot returned to Zatanna’s stomach as she watched the two teams of girls double huddle. She suddenly felt like she was in more jeopardy than ever. Then she heard the redheaded cheerleader with perfect brownish-pink-tipped D-cups second from the end of the line say, “You don’t need to worry about that, Coach Taft, or the girls on the gymnastics team either. If Coach Harikito takes a booth along with Coach Landry, three of us cheerleaders will fill the remaining open booths. That way the gymnasts can concentrate on first winning the Tournament and then winning Coach Landry’s bet. Remember, if more than two of them lose their breasts in the jousts on the balance beam, Coach Landry gets a bend-over bar instead of a booth.”

“You shouldn’t look surprised Coach,” Zatanna heard the redhead say as she, like Zatanna, could see the doubt on the Coach Taft’s face. “We cheerleaders lineup before a bend-over bar at the end of every semester, and have a lottery to see who loses breasts in some more-or-less mundane fashion to pay for athletics team losses. Supporting our coach, as she helps Metro U celebrate a major athletics victory, by having a balloon popping party in the Final Fantasy debreasting booths sounds like major fun to us. I want one of the booths, and if we can’t agree on who the other two cheerleaders should be, we will hold another lottery. You can count on us, Coach Taft!”

“Well, thank you, and I know I can, young lady!” Zatanna heard Coach Taft reply with a broad grin on his face. “Okay, now for a few last details and then I’ll be done with my requests for concessions. Say, Bill, I couldn’t help but notice that all four of your cows are wearing anal plugs. You’re not trying to protect them from having anal sex forced upon them with that lame claim they are being punished, are you?”

Zatanna almost forced the spit tip into her cervix as she started giggling. She noticed Bill glare threateningly at her as he replied to Coach Taft with a reddening face, “As a matter of fact I was, Coach…punishing them that is. As I’m guessing you plan on pairing with one of my pretty cows, and are in the mood for anal sex as usual, I may be willing to lift that punishment for one girl. Who strikes your fancy?”

Zatanna fought to stifle her laughter as she heard Coach Taft retort, chuckling loudly, “As you said that you ‘may be willing’ to lift the punishment for one of your cows, I’m assuming you’re desperate to protect at least one of these girls’ sphincters, no doubt for your own selfish enjoyment, Bill. I’m tempted to try to find out who that is, but I won’t. I’ll pair with Wanda here, and explain to both of you what concessions she is expected to make momentarily. Bill, can I have the blonde cow, Sue wasn’t it, and small-titted cow, Janet wasn’t it, continue to fulfill their respective roles in docking the boy I end up cutting from my team? Normally that would be the girls’ team’s Assistant Coach’s duty, but today she is tied up with other duties!”

Zatanna again felt fear as she looked across the room to her two friends. Janet wasn’t what was scaring her—she was grinning with relief and excitement at the same time. The spunky heroine was obviously relieved that the threat of anal sex didn’t involve her, and probably happy to be able see the male docking up close. Sue, however, was ashen-faced and shaking her head vigorously negatively. She obviously wanted no part of shortening a boy’s manhood.

Zatanna turned to Bill, curious about how he would get her to do the dreadful deed. She watched as Bill shrugged his shoulders at Sue, and said, “My chattel will continue to fulfill their respective roles, Coach Taft, as dockers and medical staff, as your ceremony concludes. However, they will do so only if they are not asked to touch or be touched by any of the coaches or athletes, other than the boy being docked. Wanda and Zatanna, however, are available for sexual usage—sexual usage with no limits beyond the stipulation that the cows may not be physically damaged. If any of my chattel refuse to agree to these terms, they should know they are condemning Zatanna to hand spitting and live roasting, and that I may punish them for the loss of a prized cow after the rest of you leave.”

Zatanna watched Sue look over to her and stare at the silver spear, with its tip in her sex, perhaps remembering the feel of cold metal in her own sex on her first visit to the 41^st Century. Slowly, Sue turned back to Bill and, with resignation on her face, nodded. Zatanna, feeling hopeful with all of Coach Taft’s requested concessions having been granted so far, turned to look at Wanda. Wanda was staring at the floor, avoiding eye contact with everyone. Zatanna knew Wanda really hated anal sex—if that was part of the concession Coach Taft wanted from her, Zatanna’s safety might yet slip away.

Zatanna watched as Coach Taft opened his mouth to speak, expecting to hear what Wanda would have to do to get the spit pulled out of her friend’s vagina. Instead, Coach Taft asked, “If I go ahead with your proposal, Coach Landry, will you enter the Game Room at Final Fantasy and take a debreasting booth if only the boys’ team wins, assuming you still have breasts due to your girls having done well in the balance beam jousts?”

“Yes, Coach Taft,” Zatanna was surprised to hear Sally quickly reply with a giggle in her voice, “If you’ll take me to the restaurant of my choice, breasted or breastless, and buy me a fillet if only the girls’ team wins.” She watched as Coach Taft grinned and nodded.

“And you and your cheerleaders will join Coach Landry in taking the Final Fantasy booths for a five-set balloon popping party if only the boys’ team wins the Championship Tournament, Coach Harikito?” Zatanna heard Coach Taft ask as he looked at the Oriental coach with a mischievous grin on his face. She swallowed hard—she could tell the girl thought Coach Taft was getting a bit greedy.

“No, Coach Taft,” Zatanna heard Meredith make the reply she expected yet dreaded, “I mean no offense, but only one team winning the Tournament Championship is not the monumental event in Metropolitan University Athletics Department history that warrants the simultaneous, or near simultaneous destruction of five girls’ moneymakers. I take a booth only if Sally does as well, AND only if both gymnastics teams bring home first-place trophies. You heard Tiffany say she and two other cheerleaders would take a booth if I did, and I assume she and her teammates won’t if I don’t.”

Zatanna saw a flash of annoyance on Coach Taft’s face! She knew he was going to end the negotiations, and likely let Assistant Coach Paulsen off her perch to teach everyone a lesson, not to mention spit and roast herself partly for that same reason, if he couldn’t get his way. She looked to Bill Jennings, with desperation in her eyes, saw him look thoughtful, and then heard him say, “Coach Harikito…Meredith…will five of you take booths if only the boys’ team wins if I close the dance floor and turn it into an entertainment event in which only one of the five sets of at-risk breast bacon gets poached? It will be by random selection, sort of. We will blindfold Coach Taft, spin him around a bit, and let him play ‘Blind Man’s Bluff’ or ‘Pin the Tail on the Donkey’ or whatever you want to call it. He’ll pick one set of breasts out of the lineup of debreasting portals by touch alone. Once he’s made his pick, we will take off his blindfold and let him hit the debreast button for his chosen set of breasts only.”

Zatanna heard Meredith giggle loudly before replying, “You are a very clever man, Bill Jennings! That’s what I love about you. Yes, the boys’ team winning is by itself worth at least one set of breasts, especially when there is only a randomly determined one-in-five chance it will be any particular girl’s breasts. I’m…I mean…me and my cheerleaders are in if Coach Taft finds that acceptable.” Zatanna could see Coach Harikito staring at her cheerleaders as they all nodded.

As Zatanna turned her eyes to Coach Taft to see if Bill’s quick thinking had saved her from becoming dinner, she was startled by Bill’s voice as he said, chuckling devilishly, “You better hear the rest of my proposal, Coach Harikito. Meredith, if both you and Sally retain your breasts at the end of Friday night, I want you and Sally to accompany myself and Coach, as our respective dates, to Club X Saturday night. What do you say?”

“Club X!” Zatanna heard Meredith gasp in surprise and at least some amount of apprehension. “Isn’t that the social club with orgies and sexually sadistic death games? Knowing Coach Taft, he’ll offer Sally as a potential sow in every single event!”

“I’m guessing you’re probably right about that, Meredith,” Zatanna heard Bill chortle loudly, “and I’ll probably try to keep Sally from feeling picked on by offering you as a potential sow in every event Coach enters her into. Are you up for Club X, Meredith and Sally?”

As Zatanna watched Meredith open her mouth, it was obvious that her reply was not only going to be ‘no’, but ‘hell no!’ Then, from between her legs, she heard Coach Landry declare, “We’ll do it if you both promise to take us both home after the mandatory lottery, Bill. I heard those games were fun, if somewhat painful and sometimes deadly, Meredith. I’d like to give it a try, just once in my life, but only for a half a night. Please say yes to that, Meredith—there is a good chance we can do a half night and both go home afterwards. Is that enough, Bill and Coach?”

“Okay,” Zatanna heard Meredith reply with a sheepish smile on her face, “I’ll do it, though I know I’ll likely regret it. Dinner afterwards, Bill, if I survive?”

“Yes, of course, Meredith,” Bill said softly with a big grin on his face, “and for Coach and Sally too! Dinner for everyone still breathing, but it will have to be at Final Fantasy. I have a business to run! Coach, did I do well?”

Zatanna watched as Coach Taft roared into laughter for the umpteenth time since arriving at the dairy before declaring, “You did GREAT, Bill! If both teams win, we get a balloon popping party. If only the boys’ team wins, I get to personally pop one set, and if I miss picking either Coach Landry or Coach Harikito’s tits from the lineup, we get to party the next night at Club X until the lottery is over offering the coaches up as potential sows in the games there. I’m going to miss out on eating Zatanna’s marbled fillet, Bill, and you’re going to get your prized cow back, if I get one more concession from you. I am going to pair with Wanda, and I am going to have to ask you to remove her anal plug so I can sodomize her—sodomize her while she performs fellatio on all five boys who don’t get cut from the team until they splort in her mouth! What do you say, Bill? Can I use your chattel that way?”

Zattana watched Wanda grow pallid and squirm with obvious discomfort at the thought of the debasement she was being asked to accept. As Bill Jennings roared with laughter, also for the umpteenth time since they had entered the dairy, Wanda began looking more than a little peeved. Zatanna KNEW her friend was going to refuse the degradation being offered to her, even though it would cost a heroine her life—Zatanna’s life to be precise. Then she heard Bill Jennings reply, “Of course you can use Wanda in that way, Coach Taft. It will save Zatanna’s life, and Wanda is a real heroine when it comes to prolonging the lives of her fellow cows. Aren’t you, Wanda?”

Zatanna watched as Wanda glared at Bill Jennings with a stare that actually seemed to make the 41^st Century male whither, and then she found herself the one getting a burning evil eye. Zatanna began to worry again—the Scarlet Witch was not always the most stable persona to deal with, and she WAS a power unto herself who had earned a healthy respect, if not outright fear, from most of those who had battled against her. Zatanna, Mistress of Magic, shivered in trepidation as Wanda Maximoff opened her mouth, and said, “Marbled fillet, my ass! Literally my ASS! Get yourself a treadmill gosh darn it, Zatanna! All right, Coach Taft, I’ll do it and do it well. However, we’re going to do it over by the front wall with me facing the back wall, and your boys lined up in front and to the right of me. That way we’ll both be able to watch the boy get docked to the left where the roster cut is made, Nancy get spitted in front of us, and Assistant Coach Paulsen, also in front of us but further back, hang by her tits until they give out and then take a long-drop hanging!”

Zatanna moaned with disappointment as she nearly climaxed when she heard Coach Taft say, “Okay, Wanda, we’ll do it your way,” and felt Coach Landry pull the thick steel spear out of her vagina. As she stared at the sharp point of the spit glistening with her own female juices, she vowed that she would get a treadmill, and wondered if Friday night might not be a good night to call her last night in the 41^st Century!

Chapter 26. Regular Season’s End Means Athletic Team Cuts – Ceremonial Conclusions

“Alright, that’s enough of this dillydallying!” Coach Taft spat with obvious irritation. “We have end-of-regular-season ceremonies left to perform, and perform them we will. Boys’ gymnastics team, four paces forward and about-face!”

Coach Taft grinned as the six male gymnasts nervously rushed forward to form a lineup on the other side of him, and then stood fidgeting as he slowly turned to face them. He chuckled as he looked at the haphazard line before saying in a serious tone with a smile on his face, “Gentlemen, and I do mean men…I have no idea what people were thinking when they started calling college-level male athletic teams, boys’ teams…we had a pretty damn good season. We got stuck with one in the loss column, but I don’t think we deserved that loss. I think that six the judge stuck Zabriski with for execution of his still rings routine was hogwash, and in view of the fact that the meet would have been ours if the score would have been anything over 6.4, and the other two judges gave Zabriski 9.0’s, I think the judge’s score was bought by the other team. I think you men did enough to deserve an undefeated regular season. Well done men!”

Coach Taft allowed the smile on his face fade to become a frown as he observed, “Hell, it doesn’t do any good to worry about regular season losses when we have a Tournament Championship to win, and even if we would have got that undefeated regular season we deserved, we would still have to cut our team roster by one. Your score cost us a meet, deserved or not, Zabriski, and logic says you’re the man we cut. However, you ended regular season with the overall highest score totals for all events combined. What are we going to do about this roster cut, Zabriski?”

The short, lithe, fair-haired boy with gleaming blue eyes replied with obvious nervousness, “Well, coach, if I thought that cutting me was the best thing for the team, I would start stripping right now. I think that you and all the guys know that. However, I want to win the Tournament Championship, and it has occurred to me that the judge that stuck me with that 6 in the meet we lost could have fixed any of our gymnast’s scores. He chose me, making me the obvious choice for taking the end-of-regular-season roster cut, because getting me cut was the best way to see to it that the team that paid him had their best chance to win the Tournament Championship. We’re not going to be fall for that ploy are we? Everyone on this team is a damn good gymnast, so I say we cut the guy with the regular season’s lowest score totals for all events combined.”

“You may very well be right about that judge’s motives, Zabriski,” Coach Taft replied while nodding, “and cutting the guy with the worst overall performance during the season makes sense in some ways. What do the rest of you gymnasts think? Should we let Zabriski keep his five-inch pecker…five inches, and cut the worst gymnast on a strong overall team? Let’s see a raise of hands from everyone thinking Zabriski’s alternative is the best way to make the roster cut.”

Coach Taft grinned as, one-by-one, all six gymnasts ended up with their hands raised, and then pointed out, “Sanchez, I couldn’t help noticing that yours was the last hand raised. Are you sure that you think Zabriski’s suggestion is the best way to make our roster cut?”

“Yes, Coach, I do,” replied the frowning five-foot-eight-inch-tall brown-eyed boy with short black hair and bulging muscles. “I did think really hard, trying to come up with a better reason for determining who to cut, but I couldn’t. I raised my hand last, because I think I may be the guy with the lowest regular season combined event total score, even though I had my best season ever as a gymnast. If that’s true, and I get cut, it’s going to be a real blow for next semester’s wrestling team, but let’s worry about one sport at a time…and a real chance at a Tournament Championship.”

Coach Taft nodded with a thoughtful look on his face before admitting, “You’re a bright kid, LeRoy, and one hell of a competitor. I told you that you were too tall and bulked up to make this gymnastics team at the start of the season, yet you proved me wrong and took firsts in several different events as the season progressed. However, you are correct in assuming that your score total for the season was the lowest, and that, therefore, you are being cut from the squad. Strip, Sanchez, and prepare to take the requisite docking that comes with being cut from the regular season team.”

“Yes, Sir, Coach Taft,” the Latino boy quickly replied, the frown on his face intensifying. “Can I ask for a boon, Coach? Can I make the blonde, whose going to do my docking, and her auburn-haired assistant make me cum just as they take my dickhead? Mr. Jennings said they couldn’t be touched by, or be asked to touch, anybody EXCEPT me.”

Coach Taft roared with laughter before replying, “Of course you can make them bring you off while they shorten your cock by the length of your glans, Sanchez. You’re still a man, and will be so even after the docking, and can make any girl do anything you want, unless you’re interfering with the rights of another male. I’m quite certain that Bill Jennings was very careful in the wording of his terms when agreeing to allow his chattel to perform the docking you are about to play the pivotal role in. Have the cows please you in any way you want, so long as it doesn’t delay the ceremony, and if either girl refuses, send her over to take a ride on Jessica’s back!”

Coach Taft chuckled as the boy’s frown became a nervous grin, and turned to the front end to the room. He noted that Wanda seemed to be whispering encouragement to a seemingly troubled Sue while Janet listened with obvious interest. He called out, “You two with the trays, get over here! Make sure this boy has a nice big cum, after you clip off his nipples and as you remove his penis’s glans. I’m sure Bill will be over here to give you some last minute advice before you get started…after he gets Assistant Coach Paulsen up on her toes and ready to hang. Wanda, Sanchez will be docked right here where he’s standing, so pick that viewing position you were so worried about and get on your knees. The rest of you boys can go get ready to take turns using Wanda’s mouth as a cum receptacle. Move it people! We’ve got a ceremony to finish and a Tournament Championship to prepare for!” Coach Taft grinned as the room bustled.

Bill Jennings smiled as he got the word to get to work—his plans were working out better than he imagined possible. Still, there was work to do and opportunities for those plans to begin to unravel if he wasn’t careful. He looked up to Assistant Coach Paulsen, still atop the tall stool Bill now stood beside, and said, “I’m afraid that’s your cue to get up on your tippy toes again, Kristen.”

Bill watched as the short-haired blonde with reddened, balled-up B-cups glared angrily at him through teary blue eyes before she spat, “Fine! Murder me for my meat! What do I care…my number probably would have come up in The Lottery sometime soon anyhow!” Then the assistant coach abruptly pushed herself up onto her toes.

Bill immediately pushed the wall switch upward, and watched carefully as the ceiling winch wound rope upward until the plastic double-noosed line attached to the end of it began pulling upward, and cinching even tighter into the assistant coach’s breast bases, causing her to grunt with discomfort. “I’m sorry if the breast nooses are causing you some pain as they tug upward on and bite into your boobs, Miss Paulsen,” Bill Jennings said softly with a genuine smile on his face.

As Bill Jennings returned the switch to its neutral position, he informed the girl on the stool, “You’ll actually appreciate the minimal drop you take when Coach Landry yanks the stool out from under your feet in a few moments, Kristen. The connecting tissue in your breasts wasn’t meant to take the weight of your body, and with such small breasts, your connecting tissue is likely much less strong than that of the only other girl I’ve hanged in this manner was. Hopefully, your tissue will be strong enough to support you for the approximately two minutes it will take for your debreasting to begin, after the breast nooses take your full weight. It’s going to hurt quite enough as it is when those tits get sliced off as the razor wire is pulled up through them, but I couldn’t imagine the agony that would accompany having your breasts just ripped off your chest.”

Bill grinned as the assistant coach began whimpering as the six athletes from the girls’ gymnastics team suddenly crowded in front of her stool. Bill nodded to the girls as he flipped another switch to lower the station’s neck noose downward until it rested against the assistant coach’s torso, and said, “I’ll explain the debreasting setup to you in a few seconds, girls, after I get the rope noose around Miss Paulsen’s neck. However, after I’m done explaining, you’ll have to retake your lineup in front of the cheerleaders. Wanda would be very irritated with me if I let someone block her view.” Bill Jennings quickly stood on the small stool at the adjacent noosing station, pushed the noose over Kristen’s head, and tightened it with the knot positioned against the left side of her neck just under the back of the assistant coach’s jaw.

“Okay, girls, now I’ll explain to you and everyone else how this setup works,” Bill said with pride beaming from his face. “The plastic nooses that you see tightened into and around the bases of your assistant coach’s breasts are cored with razor wire, an inner tube of liquid reagent, a thin and delicate membrane, a plastic liner, a space filled with another liquid reagent, and then the outer plastic. When the stool is pulled out from under Miss Paulsen and the plastic nooses take her weight, the razor wire will be abruptly tightened, destroying the membrane separating the inner reagent from the plastic liner of the breast nooses. This reagent will slowly dissolve the plastic liner. About ninety seconds after the inner membrane has been ruptured, the plastic liner separating the inner reagent from the outer reagent will have been dissolved. When the two reagents mix and react, the outer plastic covering around the breast nooses will abruptly evaporate, leaving only the razor wire to tighten into and pull up through Kristen’s breasts until they drop onto the silver tray that will soon be placed below her.”

“Each of you who gets a chance to joust with the tall girl with huge knockers on the balance beam Friday night, will be wearing one of these setups, as will she,” Bill said with a chuckle as he stared down to the gymnasts. “Unlike your assistant coach, you won’t be wearing neck nooses, so if you get knocked off the balance beam, you’ll hang by your tits for about two minutes, until the razor wire, left exposed after the plastic evaporates away, is dragged upward through your breast meat, and you and your breast bacon drop separately to the floor.” Bill chuckled as he watched five of the six gymnasts suddenly cup their breasts with concerned looks on their faces. “Now, Coach Landry is counting on you to make that happen to the girl with the huge knockers instead of yourselves, and to be honest, even though I bet against you, so am I. I’m hoping to see Coach Landry, Coach Harikito, and three cheerleaders in debreasting booths, even if I have to pay for some fillets, rather than collecting Coach Landry’s breast bacon on the dance floor.”

“However, let’s get back to today’s ceremonies, and Assistant Coach Paulsen’s fate!” Bill chortled happily. “Once debreasted, Miss Paulsen, of course, will drop abruptly, possible up to sixteen inches, until the her neck noose takes her weight as her drop comes to a sudden stop. Knowing that every girl in your position, Kristen, hopes to have the chance to show off her air dancing moves before she expires, I have the sad duty to inform you that my engineers tell me that there is an at least forty percent chance a girl’s neck will break when the noose yanks on her trapped neck after that length of fall, killing her. However, to give you some hope, I’ll tell you that the first girl to wear this setup managed a fine air dance after her breasts double-plopped onto a silver tray below her.”

Bill stepped down off the stool and looked up at the assistant coach shivering with fear and apprehension. He grinned and quipped, “I’m sure you’ll make the most of your hanging, Kristen, as you have little other choice. Take pride in the fact that many of the people in the room will be watching you fight the rope with much enjoyment as they engage in various forms of sex. I’ll be right back to give you one last look, after I’ve fetched….” Bill shook his head in disbelief as Cheryl place a long cord in his hand and then slid a large silver tray in front of Kristen’s stool, before hurrying over to sit on the floor next to Assistant Coach Sacrino.

“I swear that girl can read my mind!” Bill Jennings said with a chuckle as be knelt and began tying one end of the long cord to a notch in Kristen’s stool leg. “You gymnasts better retake your lineup. It sounds as if the coach is going to let the hanging get your full attention, along with that of the cheerleaders, while the rest of us engage in sex.” As the giggling gymnasts hurried back to their lineup positions, Bill threaded the loose end of the cord through an eyebolt in the floor between the stools in the adjacent noose station, so that when Coach Landry yanked the cord, Kristen’s stool would be tipped sideways and not impact the meat tray. Then he stepped back towards the front of the room, and, noting Zatanna kneeling on the floor beside the coach, handed the cord end to Coach Landry.

As he moved past Assistant Coach Sacrino, on his way to Sue and Janet, Bill saw that Cheryl was already busy getting Paul’s manhood hard with her mouth as he knelt holding the spit with his pants and underwear around his ankles, and that Nancy Boxleiter still seemed to be happily squirming around the metal in her vagina. The liquid coating the end of the steel skewer just below her vulva seemed to indicate Nancy had found her impending spitting quite enjoyable so far.

Arriving at the trio consisting of Sanchez, Sue, and Janet, Bill Jennings chided, “It’s good that you’ve got young Sanchez naked already, but you girls should be taking turns getting him stiff and erect. Otherwise, you may not be able to time his ejaculation with Assistant Coach Paulsen’s debreasting and Nancy’s spitting. Don’t be shy about telling these girls to do what you want, LeRoy. That’s what they are here for, and you’re only going to get one go at this.” Bill grinned as both girls blushed and the Latino boy grinned nervously. Then he quickly tied the boy’s hands behind his back with a length of twine from Janet’s medical tray. “However, do keep your feet widespread so that they have full access to your package, Sanchez.”

Bill pointed at the small docking tube that had been used on Dorothy’s breast tips, and said, “You use this on LeRoy’s chest, the same way you did with Dorothy, but without that touchy feely breast worshiping routine. He’s a guy! Just pinch his chest skin and clip off the color! His cock is a different matter. Get him hard, and keep him hard without letting him orgasm until it’s time to dock him.” Bill pointed to a shorter, thicker metal tube on the tray, and said, “When you think you’ve got him on the verge of climax, trying to time that with the spitting and debreasting, pull back on the big docking tube’s sliding button to open the docking blades, and hold it before the boy’s face. Once he’s acknowledged the instrument that is going to be used to remove his glans, push the tube carefully over the boy’s dick, and let the blades begin to slowly close, being careful that the blades end up being positioned on his shaft just below his penis’s corona.”

“Listen, Sue,” Bill Jennings said sternly, “you must not cut the boy until he begins ejaculating! You’ll know when he does, because your open mouth will be positioned behind the rear end of the short tube, and unlike the small docker, the large one is open ended for just this purpose. You’ll be tasting his spraying seed as you slowly let the docking blades close. Unfortunately, you’ll taste quite a bit of blood before you let the blades become fully closed, severing his glans from his shaft and permanently shortening his manhood.”

Noting Sue become progressively more pallid as she listened to Bill’s instructions, and that she was looking quite ill as she heard she would be tasting the boy’s blood, Janet asked with obvious disgust, “What in the world are you people thinking, Bill? There’s a lot of blood being pumped into an erect penis. If this is the way you carry out male dockings, you could suffer some casualties!”

“Yes, Janet, and this is a poor time for you to be reminding LeRoy of that unfortunate fact,” Bill spat with anger in his voice. “Now shut your big mouth, Janet! We will get you to a hospital as quickly as possible after your docking, Sanchez! Also, I know you’re worried about your post-docking sex life. Your shortened penis will still work. You’ll be able to achieve orgasm, it will just be harder. You’ll still be expected to father plenty of girl meat in the future!”

“Bill,” Janet hissed with urgency in her voice, “please listen to me for a moment, while understanding that I’m not trying to stop this docking from taking place, and not being critical of your culture. I think you folks may have forgotten some of history’s hard-earned lessons, and I think I can help you relearn them. Keeping in mind what we girls will be doing Friday night, before we make our journey to Final Fantasy, would you let me try to help?”

Bill Jennings nodded his head in silence for several seconds before saying, “Okay, Janet, I’m listening. Make it fast, and make it good, or you’ll get your own docking after all.”

“You don’t happen to have a loaded elastrator handy, do you, Bill?” Janet said softly with a sheepish smile on her face. When Bill stared back at her with confusion on his face, she shrugged her shoulders and said with a giggle, “Never mind! Bring me the strongest small elastic band you have. We’re going to give LeRoy a penis tourniquet to wear before we cut him!”

With a roar of laughter, Bill Jennings rushed over to the food-preparation counter and riffled through one of the upper drawers until he found the object Janet had requested. He hurried back and dropped a small elastic band into her waiting hands. “It’s what we use on A-cups, Janet,” Bill said chuckling. “I’m afraid that is the best I can do today, but I’ll be researching ‘elastrator’ when I get home. You girls are going to make me a very rich man.”

Bill watched as Janet doubled the one-inch diameter elastic twice, and then stretched it as hard as she could before trying to work it over LeRoy’s large, bulbous penis glans. With more care than skill, the spunky heroine managed to get the small, tightly stretched elastic band just past the corona of the boy’s glans, and then let the elastic slide off her fingers with a loud snap.

“OW!” LeRoy yelped. “That hurts, Bitch! You’re begging for Jessica’s embrace! Make her take it off me, Mr. Jennings! It will make it so I can’t cum!”

Bill Jennings watched for a few seconds as Janet carefully examined the banded eight inches of thick manhood before her as she knelt on the floor, before finally asking, “Well, Janet, is that banding going to staunch LeRoy’s bleeding?”

“It will help control the bleeding, Bill,” Janet replied softly. “It will definitely keep any blood from spurting into your mouth, Sue. Now, to address Mr. Sanchez’s perfectly understandable concerns…the banding shouldn’t interfere with your ability to ejaculate, Leroy. When you climax, your semen is sent surging up your urethra to spray out your pee-hole, or meatus. The urethra runs up the central core of your penis, and shouldn’t be affected by the surface compression from the elastic band. Your penis’s blood supply, on the other hand, is primarily supplied by arteries located near the surface of your manhood, such as the dorsal and bulbo-urethral arteries. Therefore, the surface compression will drastically reduce the post-docking bleeding. I’ll shut up now, and go back to my assigned work of medical tray holder and kibitzer extraordinaire.”

Bill chuckled loudly as, while turning to make his way over to the cheerleaders and their coach, Meredith Harikito, his designated orgy partner, he heard LeRoy say, “Leave the tray where it is until it’s needed, Janet. You can alternate between sucking on my balls and licking my asshole, while Sue sucks my dick, until coach gives the word for the docking to begin.” As Bill heard Janet groan and then gag, he noticed Wanda had started working her mouth on the first of the lineup of now-naked male gymnasts, while bottomless Coach Taft was lubricating the head of his massive manhood with spit from his own mouth.

‘Damn!’ Bill thought and then chuckled out loud. “I’m going to be late for my own orgy, but there is one last thing I better do.” He changed course and headed for Wanda, on her hands and knees in front of Coach Taft. Upon reaching her, he knelt at her side and grabbed the end of her anal plug. “Unclench your sphincter muscles, Wanda,” Bill Jennings chortled happily. “As this antique in your asshole is now only going to be in Coach’s way, I’ll take it back into my possession. It really did cost me a small fortune, but if it has loosened you up enough to take Coach Taft’s mighty pecker, all three of us will be considering it a good investment.” Bill Jennings eased the bulb out of Wanda’s anus while being rewarded with a long, loud groan followed by a subdued popping sound as the plug came free. Bill chortled gleefully, “She’s all yours, Coach Taft! One of the finest behinds ever made available for your plundering pleasure. Do try not to make Wanda bleed too badly!” Bill chuckled all the way over to Meredith Harikito’s side, where he quickly dropped trousers and underwear.

Wanda moaned with despair as she watched Bill Jennings rush away with the brutal instrument that had filled her anus and kept her sphincter muscles stretched for an entire afternoon, thinking, ‘I AM going to find a way to make Janet pay for manufacturing that thing! The ‘Secretly Scarlet’ line of ‘Stretch Her Good Anal Plugs’ has been used one too many times on MY ass!’ Then she felt the glans of Coach Taft’s massive manhood get positioned between her butt cheeks. ‘GREAT!’ she thought feeling sorry for herself. ‘The one girl who REALLY hates anal sodomy gets taken from behind yet again. If I find out Bill Jennings had this planned the whole time…. Oh, to hell with it! I may as well take it like a woman and get back to the business of getting these gymnasts out of my face!’

Wanda Maximoff resumed bobbing her head over and sucking on Jonathan Zabriski’s tiny manhood as she felt Coach Taft begin pushing the head of his huge member against her sphincter. Knowing she couldn’t avoid the imminent anal assault, the auburn-haired heroine willed her muscles to relax as best she could, thinking, ‘Why can’t it be the men with tiny phallus’s like Zabriski, here, that want to have anal sex with me? I would much rather have intercourse with men packing penises the size of Coach Taft’s!’

The auburn-haired heroine tried to put the obscene pressure she felt against her behind, which she knew would soon become incredibly uncomfortable if not downright painful, out of her mind as she slurped and bobbed over the short, lithe gymnast’s tiny member. That was another problem adding to Wanda’s grief—the five-inch-long penis was far too short to properly deep throat. The big-breasted beauty would have to rely on her mouth and tongue to get the boy off!

The pressure on Wanda’s sphincter suddenly became agony as Coach Taft’s efforts finally resulted in his glans starting to penetrate past the tight muscle and into Wanda’s narrow orifice. Wanda moaned in obvious pain and apprehension as she felt her muscle threaten to tear apart. Evidently, Jonathan Zabriski found the sound of a girl in agony to be erotic, because he pulled his penis immediately out of the auburn-haired girl’s mouth and sprayed her face with his hot discharge. The heroine couldn’t believe the copious amounts of semen drenching her face and upper torso—she had no way of knowing that all of the boys had abstained from sex for several days so that they would have one final memorable cum with a full-length penis, presumably in Assistant Coach Paulsen’s mouth, if they turned out to be the boy cut from the team roster.

As Zabriski hurried away to join the female gymnasts and cheerleaders, and a short black boy stepped forward to offer his average-size seven incher for her mouth’s pleasuring, Wanda could see Meredith on her knees performing fellatio on Bill Jennings, while Cheryl did the same for Assistant Coach Sacrino and Zatanna nuzzled Coach Landry’s vulva. The heroine took the offered penis into her mouth and began sucking on it avidly, and managed to avoid biting it, as Coach Taft finally forced his oversized phallus past her back door and into her anus. Wanda moaned again, this time in relief—a man’s initial attempt at entry into the tight orifice was always the worst part of anal sex. As she felt Coach Taft begin his rhythmic humping into her behind while she concentrated at providing oral pleasure to the black gymnast before her, Wanda heard Coach Taft command, “You two, Sue and Janet, get on with Sanchez’s docking!”

Sue Richards groaned in disappointment as she heard Coach Taft bark the words she least wanted to hear. Janet, on the other hand, seemed obviously pleased at being allowed to take a break from her testicle sucking and anal tongue bathing duties—the spunky heroine had quickly picked up the tray containing bandages, disinfectant-soaked cleaning tissues, and empty wrappers and took a standing position to the left of Leroy Sanchez. Sue reluctantly let the turgid, thick, eight-inch penis drop out of her mouth, picked up her small meat tray containing three variously sized tubes, two breast tips, and a clitoris, and took a standing position to the right of the boy who was now quivering in fearful anticipation.

Sue grabbed the thin docking tube off of the tray with her right hand and then held the meat tray out towards her docking partner, saying softly, “You’ll have to hold both trays, Janet. I’ll need both hands if I’m to carry out Leroy’s docking properly.” She watched as the spunky heroin nodded, and took the smaller tray with her left hand, as she replied, “You got it, Mrs. Richards!”

The matriarch of the Fantastic Four turned towards the shaking gymnast and said in her softest and most encouraging tone, “This part of the docking is going to be a walk in the park for you, Leroy. You watched Dorothy have it done to her, not that many moments ago, and she managed it quite well.” Sue pinched, first, Leroy’s right nipple, and then, his left, with her left thumb and forefinger, before continuing with, “You know nipples and areolae are much more important assets to a girl. Dorothy hardly cried as hers were taken from her…I expect you to take this pain without shedding a tear! Have I made my expectations clearly understood?”

“Yes…Mrs. Richards,” Sue heard the boy reply with confusion on his face. It took Sue a moment to realize the cause of his confusion—the title of respect Janet had prefixed to her surname. The boy now thought her a papered woman.

“Good, Mr. Sanchez!” Sue spat quickly. “Just to keep things straight, LeRoy, from your perspective, my husband passed away quite some time ago. I’m the same girl you thought I was a few moments ago when you had me performing fellatio on you…a girl with an unwanted duty to carry out at the command of your coach, Coach Taft. Are we ready to carry out the first part of that duty?”

“Yes, Sue,” Leroy Sanchez replied with a sheepish smile on his face, “I’m ready to have the color clipped from my chest. Then I’ll be happy to let you get back to giving me head, until we have to carry out the second part of my docking. That part I’m not looking forward to at all. Clip my nips, Sue!”

“Very well, Mr. Sanchez,” Sue Richards replied as she brought the docking tube up and pointed the business end at Leroy’s brown eyes. “Just for the record,” Sue said as she slid the control button back, opening the razor sharp docking blades, “I said this would be a walk in the park for a tough boy like you.” Seeing that the open blades had the Latino boy’s full attention, the heroine slowly lowered the end of the tube to the gymnast’s right nipple. As she pinched the boy’s right pectoral skin and pushed the tube tip inward, she continued, “I never said this wouldn’t hurt!”

Sue carefully allowed the blades to slowly close as she gradually repositioned the tube tip forward until both blades touched skin just outside the rim of LeRoy’s right areola. Without saying a word, Sue allowed the blades to slowly continue to close as the gymnast gritted his teeth and issued a long hissing gasp. When the heroine felt the end of the tube suddenly come free, she slowly lifted the closed blades towards Sanchez’s face, as Janet slowly pushed the small meat tray forward. While the boy watched, visibly struggling to fight off tears, Sue slowly twisted the bladed end of the docking tube downward, and opened up the blades. She heard the boy gasp as severed nipple and areola dropped onto the meat tray.

“That’s my brave boy,” Sue said softly with an encouraging smile as she stared into LeRoy Sanchez’s pain-filled, but dry, brown eyes. “Let’s do the left side now, LeRoy, and then Janet and I will go back to pleasuring you. Okay?”

“Sure, Sue,” LeRoy rasped, “that sounds like fun. About that walk in the park, Sue…you forgot to mention all of the painful stickers!”

“I’m sorry if you feel I misled you, Mr. Sanchez,” Sue Richards replied softly as she pointed the bladed end of the docking tube towards LeRoy’s widening eyes and slowly opened the blades. “Such was not my intention, I assure you,” she continued as she lowered the open blades to the chest skin now pinched between her thumb and forefinger. “I knew a tough kid like you,” the heroine said as she positioned the tube tip until the blades had Sanchez’s left areola trapped between them, “wouldn’t mind the pricks of a few thorns.” Again the gymnast issued a long hissing gasp as the razor blades slowly closed into his left pectoral skin.

“It’s okay, Sue!” LeRoy Sanchez said softly as he watched tears roll down the pretty blonde’s face. “The blades are closed…the cuts been made. Please lift the tube so Janet can position the tray. I’m eager to get back to sex…until…well…you know!”

Sue Richards slowly nodded, and then raised the docking tube before the boy’s face as Janet again thrust the meat tray forward. Sue again thrust the tube tip downward, and slowly opened the sharp blades. As another severed areola and nipple dropped onto the tray, the heroine released the docking tube, allowing it to clatter onto the tray. As Janet pulled the meat tray back, and thrust the medical tray forward, Sue busied herself with cleaning and bandaging two chest wounds. Soon, two severed chest tips had also been cleaned. Sue took back the meat tray and slowly lowered herself to her knees. Janet followed suit, more reluctantly so!

“Assistant Coach Sacrino,” Nancy Boxleiter heard Coach Taft call out as she watched the two cows finish the first half of LeRoy Sanchez’s docking, “it’s time you converted that sow at the end of your spit into meat. As soon as the spit tip is through Nancy’s cervix, Coach Landry, tip Assistant Coach Paulsen’s stool. Paul, let’s do this right, and get that spit tip up that sow’s esophagus and between her teeth just as Kristen’s tits drop onto the silver tray and she starts her dance. Sue, you and Janet get Sanchez ready for his last cum before that eight-incher he’s packin’ gets turned into a seven-incher. Wanda, that’s two down and three gymnasts to go. If you haven’t finished making the fifth boy splort by the time Paulsen stops kicking, you’re going to lose those very productive milk bags you carry on your chest to a meat cleaver. Let’s show some teamwork, people!”

Nancy sighed loudly in climax as she heard Coach Taft announce that her big moment was at hand, and grinned through the glow of orgasm as she heard Assistant Coach Sacrino grunt, check the line of the spit in his hands and her vagina, and then felt him push. She heard herself gasp in pain as she felt the sharp spear tip push against the back of her vagina. It seemed like an eternity as she gasped for breath as pointed metal challenged resisting flesh. Then she climaxed one final time as she felt her cervix give way and the skewer enter her lower abdominal cavity. “MEAT!” Nancy shrilled. “I’m living meat on a metal stick!” The cheerleader twisted her head backwards, just as Coach Landry yanked on a very long cord.

“NOOoo!” Kristen screamed at the top of her lungs as she felt her stool get jerked sideways out from under her toes, and then groaned from the excruciating pain of her breasts’ connecting tissue taking her own weight. The assistant coach stared downward—her breasts had grown purple, and the plastic line was cinched deep into their bases. Through the transparent plastic, she could see the thin razor wire that cored the nooses, and she could also see the liquid bubbling around the wire as the reagent reacted with the plastic liner around it.

Kristen Paulsen remembered that Bill Jennings said it took about ninety seconds for the inner reagent to dissolve the plastic liner separating it from the outer reagent, and that when the two liquids mixed the outer plastic covering of the two nooses would abruptly evaporate, leaving her small breasts at the mercy of the thin razor wire! “Help!” she shrieked as she kicked her feet wildly despite the fact that the movement added to the torment her breasts were being subjected to. “Please…someone…take the noose off my neck! PLEASE! I don’t care about my breasts…I just…don’t want to die!”

“Suck, Sue!” Janet spat with sudden urgency as she watched the girl dangling from twin breast nooses kick and beg. “It’s time to give young LeRoy here the best head you know. I think you have well less than two minutes to get him ready for this docking’s culmination! The way that girl is kicking, those B-cups won’t provide much resistance to the razor-wire nooses, and that doesn’t bode well for her neck and the chance we’ll be watching Miss Paulsen dance on air.”

“I know that, Janet!” Sue Richards retorted sharply as she stopped performing fellatio to get a gulp of air. “I’ll take care of the fellatio…you get your tongue back where he told you to put it! You do your part, while I do mine, and I guarantee Mr. Sanchez will ejaculate as he watches breasts freefalling through air!” Sue thrust her mouth back over LeRoy’s turgid penis, and kept pushing forward until the thick glans entered her throat, eliciting a groan of pleasure from the boy above her.

Janet Van Dyne grinned and then gagged as she stuck her tongue back into the moaning boy’s backside. She pushed her tongue tip against the boy’s rubbery sphincter, probing with it against the tight orifice before swirling the tip in circles around the rim of the muscle, making the boy moan with pleasure. As much as this particular sex act disgusted the young socialite, she knew she was going to concentrate on doing the act well. This was the 41^st Century, and there were both men and a Jessica machine in the room. Janet didn’t want either herself or Sue blamed for a poorly timed ejaculation. At least young Sanchez seemed to have showered not long before this ceremony had begun.

Wanda Maximoff, on her hands and knees, gasped hoarsely with each inward thrust of Coach Taft’s thick, turgid, nine-inch penis. She tried to ignore the discomfort screaming from her distended anus and concentrate on swallowing around relatively thin eight-inches of manhood lodged in her throat. Then the short gymnast gasped, pulled his warm phallus out of her throat, and, like his two teammates before him, began spraying his ejaculate over the heroine’s face, shoulders, and chest.

Wanda ignored the sordid debasement, and, as soon as the brown-haired boy started towards the congregation of cheerleaders and gymnasts, urgently waved the next gymnast, an even shorter oriental boy sporting an already turgid, fairly thick, six-inch penis, forward. She saw Bill Jennings grinning at her as she took the boy’s manhood in her mouth and gave it her avid attention. There was no time to worry about what Bill was thinking as Meredith Harikito performed fellatio on him—she still had two boys to fellate to climax, or it would be her breasts on the chopping block and a meat cleaver in Coach Taft’s strong right hand!

Zatanna Zatara concentrated on swirling the tip of her tongue around Sally Landry’s swollen clitoris as she watched Kristen Paulsen swinging to-and-fro suspended by breast nooses. As she sucked gently on the tiny organ, eliciting a moan of pleasure from the gymnastics coach, she reasoned that she had gone from spit muffin to the heroine pulling the least offensive duty as the athletic-team ceremonies approached their conclusions.

The magic-wielding Justice Leaguer grinned as she pushed her tongue deep into Coach Landry’s vagina, and then dragged it up through the girl’s labial lips. Sally was panting loudly now, competing with the moans of pleasure coming from Assistant Coach Sacrino’s throat as he reacted to Cheryl’s oral efforts. Zatanna hoped they both could keep their concentrations together enough to get young Nancy properly spitted.

Nancy Boxleiter grinned like a Cheshire cat as she glanced from LeRoy, being double pleasured, to Coach Taft, engaged in sodomy while the big-breasted girl before him fellated his athletes, to Assistant Coach Paulsen, suspended in air by incredibly purpled tits, to Assistant Coach Sacrino, working the sharp spit tip up though her torso. The young cheerleader was in an incredible amount of pain as the sharp spear being pushed into her body caused damage beyond repair—Nancy embraced the great honor of being turned into the two teams’ ceremonial live roaster with every fiber of her being.

Nancy giggled happily as she felt the swelling at the base of her neck. Yes, getting spitted hurt like hell, but from the gasps and moans around her, she reasoned it didn’t hurt as much as being anally raped by Coach Taft, or being suspended in air by breast nooses. The cheerleader could feel the passage of the spit tip into her neck, successfully centered in her esophagus. It wouldn’t be long now before she would be allowed to perform her horizontal pole dance while the rest of her cheerleading squad watched. Nancy Boxleiter couldn’t wait to feel the warmth of the coals below her slowly rotating body!

Kristen Paulsen examined her breast nooses again for the umpteenth time. She could see the razor wire was tight, separated from her flesh by only the plastic covering, and she could see liquid, but the outer skin was the only remaining plastic. She opened her mouth, to beg yet again for the noose to be removed from her neck. Then it happened! The plastic abruptly disappeared in a wispy cloud of vapor, and the nooses, now consisting of only the razor wire, immediately began closing, cutting into her breasts.

Kristen screamed in agony, telling the entire room that the ceremonies were in need of conclusions. The assistant coach’s body was slowly sinking toward the ground as the razor wire nooses were being pulled upward into her breast meat. She moaned loudly in pain and frustration. Her tiny B-cups were slowly getting sliced off of her heaving chest. Kristen knew it was only a matter of seconds before her chest got permanently flattened, and she found out whether she would be allowed one last air dance before she died. Kristen Paulsen screamed in horror and terror.

Sue Richards twisted her head around the penis lodged deep in her throat, and was rewarded by a long gasp of pleasure as she sensed the boy throw his head back to stare at the ceiling. The blonde heroine quickly pulled her head off the turgid, pulsing manhood, and grinned as she saw the pre-cum leaking from the boy’s meatus. Then Sue frowned as she snatched up the short thick tube from the meat tray with her right hand as she gently massaged his warm phallus with her left hand. “Look at me, LeRoy!” Sue commanded with obvious imperativeness. She watched as the boy stared downward with widening, apprehension-filled eyes as he saw her pull the sharp razor blades at the end of this tube open until they were horizontal with the tube’s barrel.

Sue saw apprehension become fear as she carefully pushed the open barrel of the docker over Sanchez’s glans, and fear become intense trepidation as the boy felt sharp steel touch his penis’s shaft just below his corona. “That’s my brave and handsome boy, LeRoy,” Sue said softly as she lowered her mouth and prepared to circle her lips around the tube’s open base. “Now, Mr. Sanchez, look at Assistant Coach Paulsen. Every boy dreams of watching a girl get her balloons popped while he’s having sex. I want you to cum for me, LeRoy, just as Kristen’s breasts drop free from her chest, and she herself drops until her neck noose takes her weight.”

As the blonde heroine watched the boy twist his head to watch the hanging, she implored with obvious urgency, “Work your tongue into his anus, Janet, and suck on it if you can while you gently squeeze his testicles with one of your hands!” Without waiting to see if her docking partner was complying, Sue circled the open end of the back of the docking tube with her lips as she continue pumping the boy’s shaft with her left hand. She stuck her tongue into the tube, and found that her swirling tip could just reach the boys trapped glans. She was rewarded with a long moan of pleasure.

Wanda Maximoff blushed badly, between hoarse rhythmic gasps that spoke of both discomfort and pleasure, as the forth gymnast sprayed her face and upper torso with his seed. While the big-breasted heroine was getting almost comfortable with Coach Taft’s pummeling of her anus with his massive manhood, she knew she would never get used to the debasement that accompanied having her face made a mess with a boy’s spraying semen. However, she knew she had no time to worry about the degradation she was receiving at both ends of her body.

As the Oriental boy rushed away to join the other athlete’s, Wanda urged a medium-height black boy forward and took his turgid seven-inch penis into her mouth. Fortunately, the boy had been masturbating as he watched the assistant coach hang by her breasts, and Wanda could taste pre-cum as both she and the boy watched Kristen sink slowly lower as the razor wire nooses pulled up through her B-cups. Wanda began deep throating the boy’s thick manhood like a madwoman, as she eagerly attempted to vouchsafe her own, bigger breasts.

Nancy Boxleiter grinned through agony as she choked on the metal now near the back of her throat, while both Assistant Coach Sacrino and Coach Landry squirmed and moaned in carnal pleasure. Nancy was now certain that her hand spitting was going to be a success—she was going to get her chance to do a horizontal pole dance over hot coals.

The head cheerleader’s grin broadened as she heard, Sally Landry announce, “I can see the spit tip in Nancy’s mouth…and I think I’m going to cum!” “GREAT!” Nancy heard Paul Sacrino cry. “Me too…swallow my seed…Cheryl!” That was when Nancy felt her teeth being pried open. That was when she knew she had graduated from sow to live roaster!

“NNOOoo!” Kristen Paulsen shrilled as she felt intense agony as the razor wire nooses suddenly pulled through her remaining breast tissue, and she experienced a dizzying drop. The blonde assistant coach heard a crack as she came to sudden stop at the end of her hangman’s rope, followed by a double plop as B-cups became bacon on the tray below her. Then she heard or felt nothing forevermore, as she hung limply in the darkness of death, a long pig swaying in air above a dairy floor.

As Sue heard the hanging girl’s shrill scream of agony and terror, she also heard LeRoy Sanchez gasp and groan above her. Sue nearly choked as warm sticky semen sprayed into the back of her throat, but managed to pull her head back so that she could control the slowly closing of the docking blades around base of the bucking Latino boy’s pulsing glans. As Sue Richards took a second pulse of ejaculate onto her pretty face, and concentrated on allowing the docking blades to rotate closed ever so slowly, she couldn’t help but notice Janet Van Dyne scoot around to the side of the boy—the spunky heroine was intent on watching the docking up close, with her amazement-filled face mere inches from the stiff manhood in the process of being pruned.

Sue frowned as she took a shot of semen into her right eye as she slowly allowed the rotating razor blades to close into a young man’s phallus, just below his sensitive corona. For his part, Sue thought LeRoy was taking his penalty quite well as he bucked, and gasped, and groaned above her without a single attempt at begging her to stop the truncation of his manhood. LeRoy Sanchez gasped in helpless fear as he felt the pinch that became a painful bite and then the agony of a red-hot poker at the end of his manhood. Despite all that, it was only when the docking tube came free, and his still spurting penis popped up to send ejaculate into the air from a glansless tip, that tears began flowing from the Latino’s brown eyes.

Sue Richards stood and, with tears streaming down her own semen covered face, gave LeRoy Sanchez a long tender hug. Then she pushed the closed end of the docking tube before his sobbing face as Janet Van Dyne pushed the small meat tray underneath it. “LeRoy Sanchez,” Sue said softly, “you were the man cut from your athletic team’s regular season roster. Ceremony and sport’s tradition demands that such a man be docked of nipples and penis glans for his failure at athletic excellence. There, on the tray before you, along with Dorothy Stanson’s breast tips and clitoris, are your own nipples and areolae. Now, as a symbol of your shortened athletic career, the evidence of your shortened penis joins the other severed bits of flesh on the meat tray.” Sue tipped the bladed end of the docking tube downward, and slowly opened the sharp razor blades. She watched as the gymnast gagged as his decapitated penis glans dropped downward onto the tray.

Wanda groaned in frustration as the black boy pulled his manhood out of his mouth and added more to the mess her face already was, as everyone watched Kristen Paulsen’s breasts began their freefall. Wanda gasped as Coach Taft pounded his thick manhood into her anus yet again, and marveled at the fact that the discomfort of her anal rape had faded and almost felt good.

As the black boy turned away, Wanda Maximoff watched the assistant coach’s body come to a sudden halt as her neck noose suddenly took her weight. The big-breasted heroine heard the dull crack, the sound she had heard her own neck make when she had experienced her own long-drop hanging after being debreasted by razor wire nooses, and then heard the wet double plop as Kristen’s breasts landed on the silver meat tray below her. Wanda could see the silver spit tip exiting Nancy’s mouth as she watched Miss Paulsen hang limply at the end of her rope. The auburn-haired heroine saw Sue lift the docking tube from the bloody end of LeRoy Sanchez’s penis shaft, and watched her blonde friend drop the boy’s decapitated glans onto the meat tray held aloft by Wanda’s teammate, Janet, while she waited for the assistant coach to begin her air dance.

As Wanda watched the blonde gymnastics coach hang without movement, and felt Coach Taft spray hot semen into her anus after one last rapidly rhythmic anal assault, she realized the long-drop hanging had resulted in instant death—Wanda Maximoff suddenly realized the girl hanging limply in death at the end of a noosed rope could have been, perhaps should have been, herself, last Saturday night. Then, as Coach Taft slowed in his anal assault, she heard him say, “You have one tight ass, Wanda Maximoff! Can you cum for me as we celebrate a successful, hanging, spitting, and docking?” Wanda blushed deep red as she heard the staccato sigh that announced to the room that she was unexpectedly climaxing in the midst of sordid anal sex.

Chapter 27. The Truthful Aftermath

Wanda Maximoff struggled to pull herself together as she remained kneeling on the cement dairy floor. She was flabbergasted by the by the fact that she had suffered a forced orgasm at the end of anal sex. She knew that such an event was possible, for other girls at least, but she never dreamed it would happen to her—Wanda really did hate anal sodomy! The big-breasted heroine understood the physiology that would allow such an orgasm to be achieved—little separated anus from vagina and the vagina’s so-called ‘G-spot’. Wanda was also aware that the legs, or crura, of the clitoris extended along the vaginal lips back to the anus. Thus, anal sex could lead to either vaginal or clitoral stimulation, or both, making climax possible. Wanda did not find such thoughts comforting.

The auburn-haired Avenger struggled to clear the fog that had swallowed her mind as she watched a frowning and crying Sue cleaning the bloody end of LeRoy Sanchez’s docked penis, while a grinning Janet watched on. The boy himself stood teary eyed and grimacing, but was being quite brave in the face of the mutilation of his manhood. Bill Jennings and Coach Taft stood to one side, now fully clothed and evidently marveling at the elastic band’s success at controlling young Sanchez’s bleeding, much to Janet’s pleasure, as they reassured the boy about his sexual future and reaffirmed he would be at the evening’s feast after being treated at a hospital. Soon the end of LeRoy’s damaged phallus was having a small round bandage applied to it by Sue, whose face was covered with sticky semen. Then Wanda watched as Sue finished off her terrible duties by cleaning the severed glans.

Seeing Sue’s messy face reminded Wanda of her own problems. Wanda felt filthy! She was drenched with ejaculate! Zatanna and, to a lesser extent Janet, had juices of different kinds coating their faces. Only Cheryl and Meredith seemed to have managed to keep their faces clean.

Wanda watched as, followed by the cheerleading squad and Coach Harikito, two pit attendants carried Nancy Boxleiter—the live roaster, she corrected herself—to the barbecue pits. Soon the same pit attendants were back for Kristen Paulsen’s body—rather the long pig’s meat. Before she knew it, with herself still kneeling on the floor where she had experienced double-ended sodomy, Wanda was watching Coach Landry and Assistant Coach Sacrino lead the girls’ and boys’ gymnastics teams out of the dairy to board their bus.

Wanda Maximoff saw Bill Jennings and Coach Taft high-five each other near the main dairy door, and heard Coach Taft proclaim, “We couldn’t have played them better, Bill! Friday night is going to be interesting, one way or another!”

“Right, Coach!” Bill replied with evident zest. “If both teams win, we’ll have a nice balloon popping party, and send a message to two uppity coaches. If only the boys’ team wins, you’ll have a shot at popping one of those coach’s balloons, or better yet, a journey to Club X, and a chance to make them meat!”

“If only the boys’ team wins, it will be the latter for sure, Bill Jennings!” Coach Taft chuckled loudly. “Don’t you think for one second that I can’t pick Tiffany’s D-cups out of that lineup of breasts, blindfolded or not. I don’t see how you managed to get that ruse past Sally and Meredith! Will you be at the feast tonight, Bill?”

“Sorry, Coach, no,” Bill Jennings replied softly. “I’m going to get these cows back to their stables, and then help Cheryl haul today’s harvest to the meat lockers. Then it will be a quiet night at home, with a blonde’s tenderloin and a dark-skinned fillet on the dinner menu.”

“Suit yourself, Bill, and enjoy your meal!” Coach Taft said, before chuckling as he looked back into the dairy. “However, speaking of meals, just remember I’ve got first dibs on Zatanna’s marbled fillet when it becomes available!”

“I won’t forget, Coach,” Bill Jennings replied before chortling, “but get your mind off food and into the gymnastics meet. You have a Tournament Championship to win, if you want to make Friday night an event to remember!” Bill waved as Coach Taft grunted and made for the bus.

“Bill Jennings!” Zatanna spat with obvious displeasure. “Just how much of this afternoon was scripted? Were you playing us heroines as well as those coaches? Just how close was I to becoming meat?”

Bill Jennings roared with laughter as he saw the consternation on Zatanna’s face. “My dear, Zatanna,” Bill replied grinning broadly, “these field-trip visits are always loosely scripted, and the fact that I had the anal plugs ready, which three of you still wear, should tell you that scripting did indeed include yourselves. By the way, would you three mind popping those plugs out of your anuses so that Cheryl can put them away…they really did cost me a small fortune.”

Bill chuckled happily as he watched Janet, Sue, and Zatanna comply and hand the sex toys to a bemused Cheryl, before continuing with, “Also, I must admit that I was playing you girls as I endeavored, successfully I might add, to get you to commit to do another stint here at the dairy. Additionally, knowing full well this will make you all irritated at me, I’ll confess your roles in the end-of-regular-season athletics team ceremonies were also part of my plans to play Sally and Meredith, and even Coach Taft to some extent.”

Bill grinned as he explained, “I had to promise to find a way dispatch Assistant Coach Paulsen while another female performed cunnilingus on Sally…nicely done there, Zatanna…to get Coach Landry to provide her gymnasts for jousts against Wonder Woman, and to get her to commit to taking a debreasting booth if she won her bet that her girls would debreast Wonder Woman, AND both boys’ and girls’ teams won Tournament Championship.”

Bill Jennings chuckled as he continued, “Having Sally’s commitment to take a booth and turn Friday night into college athletics’ history, I knew Meredith couldn’t stand to have herself and her cheerleaders left out of the fun, especially if she thought all that was being done for Coach Taft’s entertainment and honor. To make that seem to be the case, I needed Coach Taft’s cooperation.”

“In order to get Coach to commit to the deal,” Bill Jennings chortled happily, “I had to promise him and his boys an orgy, with the Coach himself getting to sodomize a girl who really hated anal sex. Originally Coach wanted to have a lineup of three simultaneous double-ended sodomies, but I wasn’t willing to risk Janet’s wrath by making her lose her anal virginity. I got him to settle for Wanda’s ass…sorry Wanda…and her performing oral sex on all five of his post-season athletes by promising to try to get Sally and Meredith to agree to a potential visit to Club X.”

“To be honest, while not really bragging at all,” Bill stated softly with a silly grin on his face, “everything went exactly as planned…except for the fact, Zatanna, that Coach Taft really took a craving for that fillet of yours. That was never planned, and threatened to undo everything. How close were you to becoming meat? Damn close I’d say! I wasn’t sure until the very end, that I could get Coach Taft to help me fulfill my original promise to Coach Landry by ordering the long-drop hanging of Assistant Coach Paulsen, completing a rather complicated and circular scheme.”

“If Coach Taft insisted, would you have let them spit me…roast me to death…and eat me, Bill?” Zatanna asked in a quivering voice, shocked at how easily she and her friends had been manipulated by Bill Jennings.

“I’m afraid that I may have felt it necessary to do so, Zatanna,” Bill Jennings replied truthfully while nodding slowly. There was a gleam in his eye as he watched Zatanna turn her face down and shiver.

“Would you have participated in the athletics teams’ feast, Bill,” Zatanna began, obviously shaken that the heroines only 41^st Century male friend was saying he would have let her die, “if I had been on the menu?”

“Yes, Zatanna,” Bill replied softly, “I would have, and ate quite heartily too. I think that your meat would be quite delicious.”

“Is there anyone you wouldn’t eat, Bill Jennings?” Zatanna spat angrily with tears in her eyes.

“Sure!” Bill Jennings said laughing. “I’m actually quite picky about my meat. You should actually take it as a compliment when I say I would partake of your flesh, Zatanna…well any of you girls actually. Keep in mind, I took Marge’s fresh-roasted fillet home last Saturday night, and expect to be eating my daughter, Susie’s, fillet on a Sunday afternoon about a month from now.”

“NNNOOoooo!” Wanda wailed, interrupting Bill and Zatanna’s uncomfortable conversation. As her friends turned towards her, she lay sprawled on the floor, her head buried in her arms!

“Wanda, what’s wrong?” Janet screamed as she rushed to her teammate’s side with Sue right behind her.

“Get up, Wanda,” Sue implored as she stared down at the quaking heroine on the floor before her. “We can’t help you if we don’t know what’s wrong!”

“I had one of those visions…a portent of my personal future, Janet!” Wanda said softly as she slowly pulled herself to her knees.

“You mean, like the one you had of yourself strapped into a breast guillotine under a falling blade when you first joined the Avengers, Wanda?” Janet asked, visibly stunned by her friends announcement.

“Well, tell us about the vision, Wanda,” Sue urged, kneeling beside her friend with obvious concern.

“I saw a man put me onto a sliding platform before an oven, and then slide me into it, Sue” Wanda said in a strident quivering voice. “There was terrible heat and fire all around me! My hair burned…then, obviously hours later, I was pulled out of the oven, brown and shiny, with my head down, obviously dead! Oh my GOD! I’m the one that’s going to be cooked and eaten!”

“How often do you have these visions, Wanda?” Zatanna asked softly as she, Cheryl, and Bill Jennings stood behind the trio on the floor. “Do they always come true?”

“Rarely, and yes, Zatanna, always,” Wanda replied in a shaky voice.

“This shouldn’t be happening, what with the city’s metahuman-power dampeners fully operational,” Bill Jennings said softly scratching his chin, before continuing with, “unless this is part of your magic-based abilities, Wanda. Then again, maybe this wasn’t a vision…a portent, as you called it…at all. Were you breasted, and did you have any marks that indicated you had been eviscerated?”

“Yes, Bill, I wore breasts on my chest,” Wanda said softly, almost sounding relieved. “And no, Bill, there wasn’t any indication that my entrails had been removed so that I could be filled with breaded stuffing.”

“Well, Wanda,” Bill said with a knowing grin, “then you can rest assured that either that was not one of your visions prophesying your future, or that those events won’t occur in the 41^st Century. Even the worst 41^st Century chef knows better than to stick a breasted woman with an abdomen full of intestines into a heated oven. As the girl’s breast fat and organ’s bubbled and burst, she would make a mess of the oven and her meat would be left inedible! You look way too tasty for anyone to let that happen to your meat, Wanda Maximoff!”

“Maybe your right, Bill,” Janet said softly, “and it wasn’t one of the Scarlet Witch’s prophetic visions. Or maybe Wanda just got the details wrong again. In that earlier vision I mentioned, Wanda saw Captain America behind her as the guillotine blade rushed towards her flesh trapped in the debreasting lunettes, not the Riddler. Still, this has clearly shaken super cow! I think we better get Wanda home.”

“Yes,” Bill Jennings said nodding, not mentioning that Wanda’s encounter with a guillotine blade with Captain America behind her could still be in the heroine’s future based on what he’d read in the Scarlet Witch’s autobiography, “perhaps that would be a good idea. First, I want you all to know that I’m not being disrespectful of our friendship when I become somewhat manipulative. I’m afraid that tendency is part of the 41^st Century male psyche. You girls help Wanda to her feet while I fetch a gift for Zatanna.”

Bill hurried over to the food-preparation counter, opened a drawer, and then returned carrying a small, fairly thin, rectangular box. As he handed the box to Zatanna, he said, “While I hope to have the opportunity to taste each and every one of you girls, Zatanna, I’m in no hurry for that opportunity to present itself. I do very much enjoy you girls’ company. That is a token of my esteem, dear girl…something that you might find useful this Friday afternoon, twenty centuries ago.”

Zatanna smiled sheepishly before replying with a chuckle, “Thanks, Bill, we’ve obviously enjoyed our time with you as well…even though you seem to take advantage of us quite liberally. Forgive me as I say I hope you…I hope that no one…ever gets to taste me!”

“We’ve spent all afternoon trying to teach classrooms of girls that they will all eventually become meat in the 41^st Century, Zatanna,” Bill chortled softly. “That lesson applies to all girls living in this period of human history, not just the ones born to it. Now open your present, dear girl, lest I tire of your dawdling and put you on Jessica’s back.”

Zatanna giggled at Bill Jennings obviously false threat, and, as she opened the box, quipped, “I guess that’s your way of saying, don’t vacation in cannibal country if you don’t want to become part of the soup, aye, Bill? Well, look at this…a Zatanna for Zatanna…but not sized for my D-cups!” Zatanna grinned as she held out the smaller-than-usual hoop-knife with a five-inch diameter cutout for her friends to see, and then chirped, “I wonder whose A-cups this is meant to be used on?”

“A-cups?” Bill asked facetiously. “Well perhaps. However, that hoop-knife is also sized to encircle one very large and full scrotum, such as the one that will be dangling below Oliver Queen’s famously ample manhood twenty centuries ago.”

“Ice hot!” Zatanna spat with genuine excitement. “I was actually hoping to talk Black Canary into letting me castrate Green Arrow as she guillotines his spurting penis to complete his emasculation. This will give me leverage in convincing her to say yes!”

“I’m glad you like your present, Zatanna!” Bill Jennings declared after roaring with laughter. “Now, Cheryl will give you girls your bikinis back to carry out of the room with you. The door across from your arrival area is a shower room with plenty of soap, shampoo, and mouthwash. You can get cleaned up before you get dressed and head home. We’ll see you Friday night in Final Fantasy, and I expect you to tell me all about it, Janet and Zatanna, while your heroes squirm and I ogle the most famous breasts in the history of mankind!” Bill chuckled as the girls exited the room without giving him his usual hugs—he had managed to escape without one of the girls soiling his suit with the sticky reminder of orgy.

Chapter 28. Twenty-First Century Conspiracies

Janet quickly dialed the combination, 44 right, 12 left, 27 right, removed the lock from the latch on the outside of the ‘arrival room’ door, and pushed it open to allow her freshly showered and bikinied friends to file in. “I don’t know what Bill was expecting,” Janet said as she stepped inside and closed the door, followed by the latch on its inner side, and secured the lock onto the latch, “but I say the door to this room stays more or less permanently closed. I don’t want anyone to see us materialize in here if we actually make it back to the future Friday night. Can you pass me my raincoat and sandals, Wanda? You ARE feeling better aren’t you?”

“Yes, I’m fine, Janet,” Wanda said softly before quickly asking, “but what did you mean by IF we make it back here?” Wanda put on her own grey raincoat after passing Janet hers. Meanwhile Sue and Zatanna were putting on their own raincoats and footwear.

“I’ll explain on the way, Wanda,” Janet said in a calm, quiet voice. “Now get in and let’s blow this time zone!” The spunky heroine quickly climbed into the rear of the three-seated machine—while the time-ship looked like and was the size of a squared-off two-door car from the outside, the inside, other than the instrument panel at the front end, was much like a limousine, with the two rear couch-like seats facing each other.

As Janet had expected, Wanda said, “Okay, Janet. I want shotgun, Zatanna. I want to learn how to operate this thing in case Sue gets put out of commission.”

“Fine by me, Wanda,” Zatanna replied chuckling as she opened the back door across from Janet. “Do you mean, in case Sue can’t make her debreasting date, or in case Sue gets eaten?”

“I’m sure Wanda is covering both contingencies, Zatanna,” Sue replied giggling nervously as she and Wanda each opened a front door and climbed into a bucket seat. “Actually, it makes sense having at least two of us capable of getting us back to our own time zone. In case I get injured…or murdered by some 41^st Century male. If I get eaten after I get murdered…well…I won’t be aware of the chewing.”

Sue pointed to the control console and said, “This machine is actually quite easy to operate. You just enter the time coordinates here, and the map coordinates and elevation here.” Sue quickly entered the coordinates for time machine bay on the top floor of the 21^st Century Baxter Building into the time machine’s navigational computer. “Then, after making sure everyone is fully inside the ship, and thus all body parts will be on the same side of the time field, you hit this, the dematerialization switch.” Sue pressed the computer screen on the instrument panel and the world around the heroines blurred.

Seconds later, the time machine materialized in a large bay filled with strange equipment. “We’re back!” Sue announced with obvious jubilation. “And for once we return from the 41^st Century with everyone accounted for and all body parts intact! That reminds me, if you want to depart Friday night from the Avengers’ Mansion, someone needs to send me the exact coordinates for the Quinjet bay.”

“I’ll send them, Sue,” Janet replied quickly, before baiting her trap, “if I can manage to get our plans back on track. Otherwise, you won’t need the coordinates?”

“What is going on, Janet?” Wanda asked with obvious concern. “Why the sudden doubt about returning to Final Fantasy on Friday night?”

“I didn’t want to ruin everyone’s dairy day, Wanda,” Janet replied softly, trying to sound sincere, “so I kept my concerns to myself. Hank is getting cold feet about putting his manhood through the penis guillotine lunettes. He’s asking for additional concessions…favors as he sees it…in case his sex life ends through failed tissue regeneration.”

“Well, Hank’s concerns are understandable,” Sue said softly. “I certainly wouldn’t let my husband risk his sex life for our viewing pleasure…but then…Reed doesn’t know what we girls have been up to…and Hank does. What are you going to do, Janet?”

“There is nothing I can do, Sue, to get MY husband to follow through with risking HIS sex life for OUR viewing pleasure,” Janet replied acerbically. “The favor he is asking me to arrange for is from Wanda…well mostly anyhow.”

“From me?” Wanda asked in a voice that rose in pitch to become a whine. “What the heck does Hank want from me, Janet?”

“Well, I’m not at all happy about this, Wanda,” Janet said, trying to sound genuinely annoyed as she tripped the trap closed, “but he wants me to talk you into agreeing to be his unrestricted sex slave tonight, and to join us in a ménage a trios tomorrow night! I told him you would never agree!”

“Why did you tell Hank a silly thing like that, Janet?” Zatanna asked chuckling loudly. “Is there really any doubt in your mind that Wanda won’t agree to your husband’s terms if refusing to do so means she misses an opportunity to get her balloons popped at Final Fantasy?”

“Yes, Zatanna, there is!” Janet replied angrily, completing the con. “Unrestricted sex is Hank’s way of saying he wants anal sex, which I won’t give him and Wanda really hates! By the way, if Hank and Ollie have been talking, you might get tagged with a request for similar favors.”

Zatanna roared with laughter before replying, “Dinah and Oliver don’t need an excuse to ask me for favors, and I still don’t see Wanda refusing Hank’s request, in view of the fact that she finished the afternoon as the lynchpin in a complex ‘spit roast’. That’s the 21^st Century term for the three-way action Coach Taft forced you into Wanda!”

“I knew that, Zatanna,” Wanda spat with obvious emotion, “and know that the mess those boys made of my torso and face is called ‘basting’ as well! I will give Hank what he’s asking for, Janet. There is no way that I’m going to ruin so many people’s plans by being selfish…and I’m not talking about balloon popping plans, Zatanna!”

“What balloons are going to be popped?” Reed Richards asked as the doors to the nearby elevator he was riding in opened. “I’m glad your back, Sue! Are you girls planning a party?”

“Yes, dear, we are?” Sue said softly in her sultriest voice. “Janet and Wanda are arranging a very special party for Hank Pym Friday night. At various times during the night I expect very special balloons will end up getting popped. Too bad you, Ben, and Johnny have tickets to the Knicks game. By the way, I’ll be taking the time-ship that night as well, Reed. Bye, girls! Let’s go to bed, Reed.”

As Sue Richards took her tall and lanky husband’s right hand and began leading him to the elevator, Reed protested, “But it’s only six o’clock, Sue! I’m not sleepy!”

“Come along, Mister Fantastic,” Sue urged with a sexy giggle. “Nobody said anything about sleep.”

“But you said let’s go to….oh…OH!” the Invisible Woman’s egghead husband replied with widening brown eyes as the light bulb lit up.

Wanda, Janet, and Zatanna giggled in amusement as the elevator door closed on the kissing couple. Soon, Zatanna was headed to the Baxter Building’s teleport link with the Justice League space station, and Janet and Wanda were headed for the taxi station near the building’s ground floor entrance.

The threat of rain had long since vanished, and Janet and Wanda had to ignore the questioning stare the taxi driver gave them as the raincoat-clad girls climbed into his vehicle’s back seat and provided the uptown New York address for the Avengers’ Mansion—his stare wouldn’t have been any less intense if they had revealed their respective dark-blue- and rose-colored bikinis under the raincoats. Janet knew the trip back to the Avengers’ compound was going to feel much longer than the morning’s ride to the Baxter Building had seemed.

Some time passed, as well as a number of miles, before Wanda finally whispered, “Are you sure that my granting Hank his favors is the right thing to do…for your marriage I mean, Janet. While I know that you yourself have always been far from prudish, I’ve known you to keep Hank on a fairly short leash when it comes to other women. Aren’t you afraid Hank will take a liking to his lengthened leash, and to…well…you know…other girls?”

Janet giggled softly before replying to Wanda’s clumsy inquiry with, “Do you mean, am I not concerned that Hank will get used to having sex with younger, bigger breasted women, Wanda? No, I’m not. Although I didn’t think you would agree to grant Hank’s requested concessions, I did tell him that if I allowed what you’re going to do for him tonight and tomorrow night to happen, it would only be because the instruments of his infidelity were going to be taken from him Friday afternoon. Then I told him that if I ever found out he had cheated on me with another woman using his regenerated manhood, I would use a Burdizzo clamp on him! Do you know what that instrument is, Wanda?”

“Yes, Janet, I do,” Wanda replied softly with confusion on her face, “it’s a pliers-like castration tool. I have used a Burdizzo clamp many times…on farm animals…when I was a young teen. I was raised by Gypsies, remember, and we had a variety of livestock to manage. The instrument is used to crush the cords leading to the male animal’s testicles. It destroys the blood supply to the semen-producing organs, killing the testicles and neutering the animal. If Hank is willing to allow himself to be emasculated with a penis guillotine, why would a Burdizzo clamp concern him? He could just use the Chula nanogene technology to regenerate his crushed cords, couldn’t he?”

“Not easily,Wanda,” Janet replied chuckling. “That’s why I’m sure my threat really got through to Hank! For the tiny nanogene robots to reconstruct damaged tissue, they have to be able to have access to the area where the tissue is to be recreated. A Burdizzo clamp crushes the testicle cords without breaking the skin of the scrotum. In order to use the alien technology to repair my threatened damage, Hank would have to cut open his own nut sack to let the nanogenes obtain access to the damaged cords…or be in the awkward position of asking someone else to do it for him. You wouldn’t do that for him, would you, Wanda?”

“No, Janet, I wouldn’t do that for Hank if I knew you didn’t want me to,” Wanda replied softly with a sheepish smile on her face. “We female Avengers need to stick together, so that would leave Hank in the position of performing surgery on himself, or the even more embarrassing alternative of asking one of the guys for help. Not that it would ever come to that…Hank loves you dearly…which is why I’m surprised Hank even asked for these favors from me!”

“From you tonight, Wanda,” Janet chortled softly. “From us tomorrow night…the ménage a trios, remember?”

“Yes, Janet, I remember,” Wanda replied quickly as her face reddened. “You’re my best friend, Janet, and I love you dearly, but I must admit that I’m not looking forward to that!”

“Well, I am, Wanda,” Janet admitted with a mischievous grin. “I’m going to use my strap-on on you while you orally pleasure Hank!”

“You’re going to use your strap-on so simulate intercourse with me, Janet?” Wanda asked nervously with widening eyes.

“Not exactly, Wanda,” Janet replied with an evil grin. “I’ll be targeting more than your vagina!”

“I was afraid that was what you meant!” Wanda spat frowning. “These concessions really were Hank’s idea, right, Janet? You’re not playing me…the way Bill Jennings keeps playing us…to fulfill your own desires at my expense?”

“No, of course not, Wanda,” Janet protested, perhaps a bit too emphatically. “Bill does keep taking advantage of us, doesn’t he? You still like him despite that, don’t you?”

“Yes, Janet,” Wanda admitted softly, “I still like Bill very much.” Wanda Maximoff allowed the conversation to end, in spite of strong suspicions, and the remainder of the taxi ride was made in silence.

It was a long Wednesday night for Wanda Maximoff. Hank Pym did indeed use her body fully, leaving no orifice unplundered. She had tried to talk him out of anal sex, but he wouldn’t hear of it. Wanda had even played her best cards in an attempt to avoid yet another bout with anal sodomy—she had told Hank that she thought she would be able to arrange for Janet to lose her anal virginity Friday night while he was present to know it had happened. Then, Wanda suggested, his wife wouldn’t have her excuse for refusing to fulfill his anal desires. Hank’s eyes had lit up with interest, but he had refused to surrender his one-and-only chance to take the Scarlet Witch from behind—Hank Pym admitted to Wanda that Janet had threatened to neuter him if he cheated on her after his Friday afternoon tissue regeneration.

Unable to avoid her least favorable sex act, Wanda had told Hank Pym that she would still try to see to it that Bill Jennings ended Janet’s anal virginity in a debreasting booth at Final Fantasy Friday night in exchange for information—she withheld the fact that Bill planned on doing that anyhow, and that it was his idea not hers. So it was that Wanda came to learn that the sordid concessions she was granting were Janet’s idea not Hank’s. Wanda wasn’t surprised—she wasn’t even peeved. Wanda Maximoff let Hank Pym sodomize her that night without complaint, cooperating completely to fulfill all of his carnal needs, after exacting several promises from him—first, Janet was to never know that Wanda knew who had really asked for the concessions; second, Janet would not be forewarned regarding anyone’s intentions to end her anal virginity; and third, and most importantly, Hanks fee for regenerating damaged body parts after future visits to the 41^st Century would be reduced back to his original tactile inspections of the heroines’ regenerated breasts and, occasionally, clitorises.

Wanda had happily complied with every request made by either Hank or Janet the next night, Thursday night, during their ménage a trios, as well. Janet had indeed used her strap-on to abuse Wanda’s behind. Then, the supposed concessions graciously given, Wanda had retired to her room. Wanda tried to sleep, but she couldn’t. All she could think about was tomorrow night—an event-filled Friday night ending at Final Fantasy. The Scarlet Witch hoped one of those events would be the winsome Wasp’s comeuppance, as the uppity heiress got her sphincter properly stretched for the very first time. Wanda vowed that Janet would never know that she had held this hope—after all, she and Janet were teammates, and would no doubt be best friends forever.

NEXT STORY ARC – Girls’ Night Out: Boys Tag Along

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