Girl du jour

By DX

Copyrighted 12/2007 all rights reserved. Story may not be used, reproduced in any way without written consent from the Author

 Annette wanted to run away, but the straps that held her fast to the metal frame prevented that. 

 She wanted to cry for help, but the fat, red ball gag pulled tight and deep kept her pleas to only whimpering mews.

 She wanted to wake up from the nightmare she was in.

 But she couldn't.

 Because it was all real.

 She shivered in the stocks that trapped her breasts, her proud and beautiful Double G's, her Gah-Gah’s, that she used to taunt and torment the men of her office. She enjoyed her breasts. She liked the feel of them when she shrugged, as hands caressed them, sizing their roundness, their firmness. Her large, sensitive and suckable areolas could make her orgasm by just playing with them.

 In the lock of the steel stocks, her breasts were round and fat, like balls of dough.

 She was an attractive woman with sharp blue eyes, wet tar hair and soft, kissable lips. She worked to keep her waist flat and then enhanced it with a form fitting corset. Her hips and long legs propped on her four inch heels were enough to cause a car accident as she walked down the street.

 But it was her breasts that got her the looks. She liked watching the expressions of people who noticed them, liked making them a little nervous when she caught them stealing glances. She liked wondering what was crawling through their minds as they stole peeks when they thought she wasn't looking. She loved the way they gained attention when she swept into a room.

 It was one the few joys in her life recently.

 Annette had fallen on hard times and quickly amassed an astronomical debt. She struggled to pay, working long, tedious hours at three jobs, but she was slipping ever faster with no hope in sight.

 It's why she sold them; Her breasts.

 Above her head, poised over her beautiful breasts like the breath of winter, the blade hung precariously, waiting for the push of the button where its spring loaded latch would fire the blade down and with a whisper, her breasts would be gone.

 When she agreed to this, she never imagined it happening. Who could?

 She had thought things couldn't get worse. Her financial problems would just crush her, obliterate her, then he showed up at her door. Dapper and charming, he spoke quickly and confidently and his magical, almost lyrical voice lulled her.

 He said he wanted to harvest her breasts.

 He would pay off all her debts, medical costs, reconstructive surgeries and ten thousand dollars for her trouble. As a sign of good faith, he even paid off one of her credit cards, several thousand dollars.

 She blinked, lost in his words. He left her his card, asking her to think it over, before vanishing into the night. He was gone before she had realized what he had said.

 He wanted to harvest her breasts for an elite and selective club.

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Copyrighted 12/2007 all rights reserved. Story may not be used, reproduced in any way without written consent from the Author.
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