ARCADE’S DAIRY WORLD

by Scarlet

WARNING: This story contains sexual situations and sexual violence (nc, MF).  It is to be read by adults only.  If this sort of material is not to your liking, then read no further.
Credits:  This story is based on a story idea suggested by The Sexecutor.  Storm and Scarlet Witch (Marvel Enterprises) and Batgirl, Wonder Woman, Huntress, and Hawkgirl (DC Comics) are Trademarked characters used in this not-for-profit fan-fiction; no Trademark infringement is intended. 
NOTE: Click on images to enlarge to full size.

 

Chapter 1. Batgirl

“Scarlet Witch, why do you stare with envy at Wonder Woman’s milk container?” Ororo Munroe chided angrily as she glared at the young mutant beside her.  “This isn’t a competition to see who the best milk cow is.  This is a most disgusting…most humiliating…criminal act that Arcade forces upon us.  Furthermore, it would appear the evil game master is not to be satiated with this appalling forced milking before live cameras.  When we run dry of the lactic fluid he steals from our breasts, it seems he means to mutilate us as well!”  Ororo nodded her head backwards towards Batgirl whom Arcade had just finished strapping into a special guillotine.

            “I wasn’t comparing Wonder Woman’s milk level to that of my own container, Storm,” Wanda Maximoff lied as she blushed badly while noting the glow exuding from the center of her breasts and the rhythmic squirting of her engorged nipples.  “If your royal highness must know the truth, I was worried that Princess Diana’s milk streams might be weakening.”  Wanda tried to staunch the grin that began to form on her face as the Nubian white-haired mutant’s face was filled with the painful memory of her recent divorce from the King of Wakanda.  “It seems the lactation-inducing drugs they injected our breasts with aren’t as efficient as these milking machines we’ve been locked into.  Batgirl went dry in just over an hour.  If Arcade really does intend on debreasting us after our milk production ceases, Wonder Woman is the girl that will suffer the most.  An Amazon Queen must be breasted.  Diana will lose her rightful station on Themyscira unless we are rescued before we run dry, or something miraculous occurs after he sends us home flat-chested.”    

            “My, my, the cows are getting a bit tetchy,” Arcade chuckled softly as he glanced from the quivering Batgirl to the kneeling superheroine cows, while his dairy master pushed a nearly nude Hawkgirl behind the newly emptied milking station and the leader of the local biker gang hurried up behind him, evidently with good news.  “They must be getting hungry again.  They’ll need another round of protein shakes again soon, Blackie.”

            “I got fifty horny bikers in the back room stripping now, Mr. Arcade,” Blackie replied with a smirk on his face as he stared down the line of milking stalls and the mostly nude superheroines either strapped in or about to be strapped into them.  Each superheroine wore only that which was necessary to be identifiable to the broadcast's viewers—Wonder Woman's golden tiara with the red star in its center; the Scarlet Witch and Huntress's similar but distinctively different twin-peaked headresses, crimson and purple in color, repectively; Storm with her double-winged black tiara topped by a centered ring; and, finally, Hawkgirl, nervously shivering in her brown hawk helmut and round golden earrings as she strived to use her hands to cover both her breasts and the pretty vulva beneath a slightly unkempt french-wax style landing strip.  “They can’t wait to ejaculate into these big-titted heroines’ gullets.  I got good news on more cows, too!”

            “All right, stop stalling, Hawkgirl, unless you’re eager to watch Batgirl demonstrate your own near future,” Fred, the dairy master, growled impatiently as he held out his hand towards the stall Batgirl had emptied.  “Unlike her highness, the Queen here, I know you’ve been milked before.  Climb up onto the stall and the restraints will pop open.  Go ahead and assume the position, and I’ll lock you into place and attach the suction cups to your breast tips…right over those turgid nipples.  Remember, don’t try anything funny.  If I hit the panic button, enough electricity will be run through each and every one of those stalls to fry all of you…even Wonder Woman.”

            “Which is why there won’t be a rescue attempt, Scarlet Witch,” Arcade interjected with a chuckle and a grin as he nodded to the cameraman in front of the line of stalls, “even though at least some of your would-be saviors are no doubt watching the ongoing live broadcast of this spectacular event.  Your fellow superheroes and superheroines won’t risk five deaths to prevent your breast reduction therapies.  And yes, I really do intend on debreasting each and every one of you after you stop giving me the liquid, blue-tinged gold I’m after.  There won’t be any miracles after I separate your milk glands from your chests either, as there was, assuming the Riddler was telling the truth, after your first debreasting, you soon-to-be-NOT big-titted Avenger.  The best criminal minds available have theorized on how you might have pulled THAT rather irritating undo off, Miss Maximoff.  The Avengers must have a tissue regeneration machine.  I’m going to make sure there isn’t a trace of milk ducts or breast lobules on your chests to regenerate when I send you home, and to be doubly sure, I’m going to keep you titless heroines locked up here for two weeks before I set you free to let your friends see your less curvy figures!”

            “All right, enough talk and back to the fun at hand!” Arcade spat jovially as he turned his attention back to Batgirl, not noticing the consternation fill Wanda Maximoff’s face as she bit her lower lip.  “Lean hard into the lunettes, Batgirl.  If I have to trim more than a little side boob off that chest of yours, I’m going to take the lazy way out and make sure you can’t grow new breasts by sticking the auto-hanger’s noose around your neck and hitting the up button!”

            “FINE!” Barbara Gordon replied squeakily followed by a groan of frustration.  Batgirl, dressed only in her distinctive cowl and utility belt, was all too aware that the viewing audience not only had a good view of her breasts hanging out of the debreasting lunettes, but could see her naked vulva topped by her dark neatly trimmed triangle-cut pubic hair between the guillotine's posts.  “Go ahead…and chop my…breasts…OFF!  I’ll…see to it…that…they’re fully…under the blade.  It SUCKS being one of the smaller breasted heroines anyhow!  Cup size is why the other girls are still squirting milk!  At least I’LL never have to worry about breast cancer!”  Batgirl looked upwards at the razor-sharp blade above her tender breasts and pushed her breastbone hard against the top of the wood that formed the lunettes.

            As the Scarlet Witch sensed Arcade reaching for the blade release handle, she blurted out loudly in a quivering voice, “Why do you want to ruin a perfectly good human cow, Arcade?  Lock her up in a room with a cot and you can milk her again tomorrow.  There is more than enough demand on the black market for all the blue milk you can get.  Where is the profit in ending Batgirl’s milk production forever?” 

Wanda Maximoff, because of her neck restraints unable to see Arcade’s reaction to her plea, was badly shaken.  Somehow the villains of the world had guessed her secret—the breasts currently being milked on her chest were not the ones she had been born with.  She knew that Arcade’s plan to scrape the heroines’ chests clean of milk ducts and lobules would not prevent the Avengers’ Chula nanogene tissue regenerator from working its miracle after the microscopic machines had mapped the injured individual’s DNA.  However, she also knew the wounds needed to be fresh for the alien technology to work.  If the wounds Arcade intended on inflicting on Batgirl, the other heroines, and, yes, herself, were allowed to heal on their own for two weeks, they would all be breastless for the rest of their lives.

“If the quantity of human milk processed by this dairy facility was a factor in how rich I’m going to get, Scarlet Witch,” Arcade chortled jovially as he fingered the breast guillotine’s blade release handle, “I’d be hiring college girls to kneel in those stalls and I wouldn’t need the restraints.  No, you superheroines’ milk is what brings top dollar!  The paying public are romantically enthralled with the notion that they are getting something special when it comes from their treasured heroines…even non-metahumans like Batgirl and the Huntress here.  That’s why you saw Thorne’s couriers’ label Batgirl’s less than half full milk container, before they hauled it away, and replace it with an empty one.  The customers want to know exactly which heroine provided the milk they’re going to be paying dearly for.  By the way, Huntress, my money is on you to be the next girl standing where Batgirl is now, about to make me richer as I make you flat-chested.”

“Fuck you, Arcade!” Helena Bertinelli spat loudly and angrily, and then blushed as she realized her unladylike words were likely being heard by thousands, if not millions, of people via the ongoing live broadcast.  The Huntress stared at the slowly weakening jets of milk squirting into the suction cups over her turgid nipples with horror, before emphatically adding, “What my milk is going to earn you is a crossbow bolt up the ass…whether you chop my boobies off or not!” 

“You haven’t been milked very many times have you, Huntress?” Arcade asked with a chuckle as he realized how flustered the heroine was.  “There’s hardly any of your milk on the black market.  Huntress milk brings top dollar because of that rarity.  Think of how much cash your milk will bring when it’s the last Huntress milk there will ever be.  The same goes for Storm, the Queen of Wakanda, who’s never been milked before.  The same goes for the milk of you popular milk cows too, Wonder Woman and Scarlet Witch.  That’s why you’re all going to help facilitate the most efficient removal of your own mammary glands possible…or hang to death!”

“It’s no use, Storm,” Princess Diana urged in a soft whisper, interrupting the guttural moans both heroines had been issuing in response to the pleasant sensation that enveloped their pulsing mammary glands—a sensation that was meant to be nature’s reward for nourishing an infant.  “These stalls are equipped with metahuman power dampeners.  Even if you managed to make lightning strike all of those villains simultaneously, I’m certain you would trigger our simultaneous deaths as well.  Arcade is a crafty one.  He will have built in a failsafe.  Also, if you were thinking of using your powers on yourself…or ourselves…know that he would just kidnap another group of superheroine cows.  It is best that we accept what fate brings us…even if it means I never wear the crown of a Queen, which, until recently you did.  T’Challa is a fool!  And, Wanda, you lied…you WERE comparing the milk level in my container with yours…and enviously!  You should not have snapped at Storm for stating the obvious.”

“Yes, all right, I was hoping to prove to be the more productive milk cow, Diana,” Wanda Maximoff replied softly with a silly grin on her face.  “I’m sorry for the snipe about your divorce, Storm.  Wonder Woman is right!  T’Challa is a fool, and I hope he’s watching and heard me say that!  Look…I know this isn’t going to make you girls feel any better…but getting debreasted isn’t that bad.  Despite the pain, It’s actually a kind of erotic experience to tell the truth.  I don’t mean to say I won’t miss my girls…I certainly will!  I like being a big-breasted superheroine…but the pain is manageable….”

“Just shut up, Scarlet Witch!” Kendra Saunders hissed in a shivering voice.  “I know I can handle pain…I just don’t know if I can handle the embarrassment that’s going to come with getting my tender breasts amputated on live television…something that’s likely to get replayed millions and millions of times in the future.  I’m only eighteen, darn it.  They’ve hardly ever been kissed by a boy.  Hey, smart ass dairyman…come on…let’s get me strapped in.  I’ve changed my mind…I don’t want to watch Batgirl take the chop…and you were wrong…I’ve never been milked before!  Your boss is about to be in possession of some pretty damn hard to come by blue milk!  I hope he chokes on it!”

“Yes, pretty rare blue milk indeed, Hawkgirl,” Arcade chided cruelly as he watched the dairy manager begin securing the usually winged Justice Leaguer as she quickly kneeled on the raised milk stall.  He watched her shiver in trepidation before he added, “You won’t last long before you run dry.  Then you’ll be over here making the highlight reel you talked about.  God this is going to be a blast.  Well, Batgirl, we better get started with the fun before a line starts to form.  By the way, Blackie, you said you had good news about replacement cows?  It wouldn’t do to have empty stalls, would it?”

“No need to worry about that just yet, Mr. Arcade, and I’m not just talking about the White Queen and Psylocke, who we nabbed with Storm, or Stargirl, Starfire, and Raven, who we snatched with Hawkgirl, in the holding cells” Blackie replied with a grin on his face while he watched the dairy manager move to the guillotine and tighten the lunette frames before forcing Batgirl to adjust her position, resulting in even more of her mammary glands under the sharp blade.  “The east coast team bagged Jean Grey, Rogue, and Shadowcat at the local mall with sleep darts, and they’ve got the Wasp and the Invisible Woman under surveillance with their beaus at a downtown nightclub.  Those two sets of cows should be on site shortly.  We’ve heard the Black Widow is on the S.H.I.E.L.D. helicarrier with Captain America, but she’s scheduled for the night watch at Avengers’ mansion, so we’ll nab her on her way there.  The west coast team called in to say they’ve darted Black Canary and, believe it or not, Power Girl…kryptonite tipped dart!  They have Mary Marvel staked out at her parents’ home in Fawcettville, and are just waiting for her to Shazam some breasts we can work with.  Also, She-Hulk has been sighted in the Midwest.  No word yet on Supergirl, Wonder Girl, Zatanna, Elektra, or the X-Factor babes.”

“Let everyone know there is a bonus in this for all of them if the superheroine population is devoid of breasts at the end of this venture,” Arcade replied excitedly as he rubbed his hands together.  “Shadowcat, that pain in the ass, won’t produce much milk, but Grey may have the stamina of the Scarlet Witch and Wonder Woman there!  Does anyone know if Grey’s got milk on the black market already?  Power Girl was a nice catch too.  Her jugs will fill jugs!  Pull the Fawcettville team…milking Mary Marvel would be too pedo for me.  Send them to locate the Inhumans…I want Crystal and Medusa’s milk…not to mention their tits…as well as those of the other unaccounted for heroines you mentioned.  Have the team on She-Hulk maintain surveillance but keep their distance.  We’re going to need the super stall Luther Corp is designing for me…if we use the metahuman power blockers on big green, we end up milking a lawyer with mosquito bites for tits!  Speaking of tits…it’s time I wrecked my first set.  Take a deep breath Batgirl and press hard against those debreasting lunettes!”

 

Robin watched on the big screen monitor in the Batcave as Arcade fingered the guillotine blade release handle and the camera zoomed in to focus only on Batgirl’s terror-filled face and naked chest as she took a deep breath and pressed her sternum firmly against the wood in front of her.  “Holy X-rated cliffhanger, Batman!” Damian spat with obvious excitement.  “We’ve got to get to the Batplane and race to that dairy and free Batgirl before she’s as flat-chested as I am!”

“No, Robin,” Bruce Wayne replied as he moved behind the Boy Wonder and put his hands on the eighteen-year-old boy’s shoulders.  “A rescue attempt now would only get those other superheroines killed.  We’ll have to watch and bide our time and patiently wait for the right opportunity…if and when it arrives.  I’m afraid Batgirl will have to take that fiend’s worst and grin and bear it.  Take heart!  You heard her say that her breasts were small by heroine standards and therefore no great loss to her.”

“Watch?” Robin spat with obvious emotion and the flush of excitement on his face.  “I don’t think I can do that without going nuts.  I thought watching those buxom babes getting face fucked earlier when their milking started got me hornier than I could stand, but now the prospect of watching Batgirl getting detitted has got me so hard I can’t stand it.  I need some relief, Batman, if I’m going to continue observing this!”

“I know, Robin…we both need relief from our carnal needs just now,” Batman agreed softly as he popped his pee port and pushed forward on Robin’s shoulders as Arcade fiddled with the blade release handle on the big screen.  “Just drop your shorts and underwear and I’ll take care of everything.  Whatever you do, just don’t take your eyes off of Batgirl’s knockers.  I think we’ll both enjoy this a lot more than she does…and then the next heroine…and the next to run dry.”

Robin did as he was told and pushed his bottoms to the floor before bending over the table in front of him.  He grinned as Batman reached around and began stroking his rock hard manhood as he felt the huge bulbous tip pushing against his puckered sphincter.  The first Robin, Dick Grayson, had warned Damian about Batman’s penchant for buggering Robins, even the one who was a girl, when Damian had first asked for the job.  Robin moaned as the bulb parted his back door and pushed into his anus.  He knew they’d both cum when Batgirl’s tits began falling through air, and that after a long period of getting his ass reamed, he and his mentor would climax again and again as heroine after heroine had their pretty bosoms drop to the floor.

 

    

Batgirl’s pretty mouth opened to form a big ‘O’ as she sensed Arcade begin to press downward on the guillotine’s wooden blade-release lever while the dairy manager knelt beside her and gawked hungrily at her turgidly tipped breasts.  Barbara Gordon stared unblinkingly at the lower, razor-sharp edge of the heavy, dangling blade above her, still wondering if the arch-villain was engaged in a distasteful prank.  Wonderment ended with the sound of a click, and Batgirl watched the shiny steel begin to move downward after the shallow hook it had been resting on popped forward.  Barbara screamed shrilly with horror and dread over the rattling whoosh of the falling blade as she pressed her chest hard against the lunette frame while simultaneously throwing her head back from the blade that seemed to be falling downward in slow motion—she wanted neither to lose a nose nor get hanged!

“Huh?” Batgirl gasped as the gleaming guillotine blade passed downward in front of her face, and she felt the vague sensation of a downward push on her chest.  Barbara howled loudly as fiery torment engulfed her upper torso, and threw her head forward to follow the downward plunge of the dropping blade with wide-eyed disbelief and tearful blue eyes.  There was a loud clang as the blood-streaked steel bottomed out on the stops at the lower end of the double-grooved frame.  Then Batgirl noticed the small gap between the bases of the breasts protruding from the lunettes and the wooden frame itself, just before she realized the fleshy orbs seemed to be sliding downward towards the dairy floor.  Barbara’s scream of overwhelming agony abruptly ended as she watched with astonishment as the falling breasts began to tumble forward.  Batgirl held her breath as the tumbles finished as summersaults, and a loud wet double-plop echoed through the dairy as her severed appendages landed on the polished floor.

 

 

 

“MANIAC!” Batgirl shrilled tersely in a quivering voice as she stared forlornly at the orbs resting nipples up on the guillotine base below and before her through tear-filled eyes.  “That HURT!  Oh…God…it still hurts!  My CHEST…the agony!  Oh…GOD!  I’ve been debreasted!  You milked them dry…and then you…amputated them!  What kind of a…maniac…BASTARD maniac…does THAT to a girl?”

 

Robin groaned as Batman’s hand job and the sordid display he had just witnessed on the big screen caused him to spew semen all over the Batcave floor.  Then, as he felt warm fluid flood pumping into his pulsating anus, the Boy Wonder realized the sight of Batgirl’s debreasting had caused his mentor to ejaculate as well.  “Holy boobs, Batman!” Damian chortled loudly, seemingly numb to the agony his female friend was in.  “Arcade has just given Batgirl a double mastectomy!  Her chest is flatter than mine now, and watching it get flattened was one of the most erotic things I’ve ever witnessed.  What do we do now?”

“Nothing, Robin,” Batman replied softly as he continued to slowly sodomize his younger partner.  “There’s nothing that we can do as long as Arcade has those heroines in those dairy stalls, wired to electrocute them if he suspects trouble.  They’re death traps!  The best thing we can do is bide our time until Arcade makes a mistake.  We might as well enjoy the wait, doing just what we’re doing…enjoying each other’s company as we wait for the next heroine’s bad luck to bring us to orgasm…when we watch another superheroine pay Arcade’s steep price for lactation’s end!”  Batman grinned as Robin moaned with pleasure as he slowly pumped his massive, turgid manhood in and out of the Boy Wonder’s anal cavity.  Batman shrugged his shoulders as he wondered what other heroes might be enjoying Arcade’s X-rated broadcast.  Whoever was watching, he felt sure they weren’t enjoying the show as much as he was!

 

“I do!” Arcade replied to Batgirl’s shrilled query with a wicked grin on his face as he stepped before the debreasting guillotine and picked the severed breasts up off the floor by their nipples and held them before the sobbing heroine’s wide-eyed face.  “I do when a human cow runs dry at Arcade’s Dairy World, Batgirl.  Fred, take these to the skinner while I use the scalpel to remove any remaining breast tissue on Batgirl’s chest.  Van Dyne Enterprises is paying a pretty penny for each set of breast skins I deliver to them tomorrow…little knowing that I’m hoping one set belonged to their CEO.  It seems they plan to tan them and sell them as purses, makeup bags, or wineskins…with the former owner’s nom de guerre tattooed in a prominent location!”

“Now, stop bawling, Batgirl, and hold still while I slice off those side boobs,” Arcade chortled softly as the dairy master took the severed breasts from him and hurried away.  “You did good, girl…well not so girlish as you were a few minutes ago…you held your knockers under the blade well enough to make my job reasonably easy.  I guess I won’t have to hang you after all!”

“Just…get it done…and over with…Arcade,” Batgirl stammered between choking gasps as Arcade used the scalpel to slice fatty tissue from her chest wounds, while she watched Fred, the dairy master, carry her severed breasts to the front of the milking stalls and make each of the other heroines take a good look at her severed flesh to rub in what each of them had to look forward to, before disappearing through a side door.  Batgirl suddenly realized how difficult it must have been for the other girls to hear the sounds of her paying her penalty for running dry, without being able to twist their heads in the neck restraints to watch.  Hawkgirl, Storm, and Huntress were shivering with terror!  “God…my chest…it hurts like hell!  Just…let me go…now.  I need…a doctor!”

“Not for two weeks, my breastless Batgirl,” Arcade replied forcefully as he dropped the scalpel into a bucket of soapy water, evidently satisfied with leaving a thin layer of fatty tissue covering the heroine’s pectoral muscles.  “I’ll be damned if you’re going to re-grow those tits and ruin the price of your…I mean, MY…milk!  No, I have a better idea.  I’m going to chain you to a bondage frame on the other side of the room…in front of those milk cows.  I’m going to let them stare at the state they’ll be in once THEY run dry.  And they will…each and every one of them…and they know it!”

Batgirl sobbed, due to disappointment more than the fiery pain emanating from her chest, as she realized that not only the other heroines, but the world, would get a clear look at her throbbing chest wounds.  Her sobbing continued as she watched Arcade pull a sponge from a second bucket and begin rubbing the liquid it contained into her burning wounds.

“Ah, the good doctor was right!” Arcade spat triumphantly as he peered hard at the roundish injuries left by the missing breasts.  “The coagulant has already stopped most of the bleeding.  You’ll live, my dear Batgirl, although I doubt you enjoy it for a while.  Now, as soon as I use the other sponge to wash the blood from your nice firm belly, we’ll put those chest wounds on display.”

Indeed, a few minutes later the breastless Batgirl was secured by chains and cuffs in front of the line of dairy stalls, nearly naked, with her arms stretched high above her head and her chest wounds on full display.  As Arcade made his way back to the debreasting guillotine, he quipped facetiously, “Let’s get these cows sucking down their protein shakes, Blackie.  Then we’ll watch and see which of these super cows runs dry next.  I can’t wait to detit another one!”  Arcade roared with laughter as fifty naked bikers sporting erect penises filed into the room and lined up in squads of ten before five crestfallen superheroines.

 

 

To be continued?


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