Diane looked at Carol then turned away. Julie ran her hand up Diane's side, back down her leg. "These two are some guys we picked up for the night." Carol stared at Julie in disbelief. Julie smiled, her evil eyes gleaming as she watched Carol come apart. "You mean she never told you? Diane swings both ways, honey. She's quite the center of attention at parties." Julie paused to let that sink in. Then, "and she likes little groups like this. You know. DP?" Carol's face was blank. Julie softened her voice to a loud whisper. "Double penetration. You know, more than one man at a time." Diane was crying now, her life was being dismantled in front of her eyes. Julie leaned over, slid her hand down Carol's arm. "You should join us sometime." She leaned closer and whispered. "Your girlfriend licks a mean pussy. How about you? You two ever get it on?" Carol just turned her head away, her eyes tearing up. "I think you should go."
CHAPTER 17 [Week 6 Thurs - Sun]
Diane leaned against the bathroom stall, limp and sobbing. She held her arms across her chest, supporting her breasts, which shook and hurt more with each sob. The door to the women's room opened and she heard footsteps approaching. Diane tried to hold her breath but couldn't.
"What's the matter?" she heard Julie's voice taunting her. "Don't you love me anymore, honey?" Julie's footsteps came closer. "Do you remember that first night with Curtis?" Closer. "I asked you if you wanted to work with me?" Closer. "I even gave you my cell phone number. Do you remember that?" Julie's voice got louder, more agitated. "Do you remember that, honey?" Diane could tell that she was right outside the door.
"Why did you have to do it?" Diane sobbed through the door. "She was my friend. She was my best friend."
"I'm your best friend now," Julie said calmly. "I am your only friend now, honey. Now that you're a whore, I'm going to be your only friend from now on."
Diane shivered, the woman's voice was getting more frantic, edgier. Was she crazy? High?
"I gave you my personal number - my PERSONAL NUMBER and you never called me," Julie was yelling now. "You fucking cow, you never even called me to say hello!" Julie shoved the door, the slide bolt held. "You thought you were so much fucking better than me, didn't you? Didn't you!" She slammed her foot against the door. "You don't think that anymore, do you?" She slammed it again, then stopped and took a deep breath. In a voice that was calmer but still rippled with anger, "open the door, cow tits." A pause. "Now."
Against her will, Diane's hand went ahead and slid the bolt. Julie pushed the door open slowly. She had all the time in the world. Diane wasn't going anywhere.
Julie looked at Diane's tear-stained face. She pulled some toilet paper off of the roll and wiped her cheek. "She didn't know anything about this. There was no reason for that," Diane sniffed. Julie didn't answer. "Why? What did you get from it?" Julie looked at her and smiled. "I just felt like it." She threw the tissue into the toilet, smiled an evil smile at Diane. "That's how it is gonna be for you from now on, dear. When someone feels like doing something to you, they get to do it." She pushed the toilet handle with her foot. "It's just that simple."
Julie led her out of the bathroom. The four of them walked to the Victoria's Secret store. For the next twenty minutes, Julie, Joe and Curtis asked the clerks the most obscene questions about "accessibility" and "support" and "crotch absorbency" while touching Diane's body to demonstrate. She left with a variety of corsets, stockings, and bras. They made a point of telling the clerks they didn't need panties as she never wore them. To make their point, Julie pulled up the tight, sheer skirt. It was pointless, her trimmed pussy was clearly visible through the skirt, but - as Julie explained to Diane later - she 'just felt like it'.
The three bras they bought were just for show. They were the type known as 'sleeping bras', with nearly no support and thin material that did nothing to keep her nipples from clearly showing through. To her relief, they didn't make her change and she followed docilely through the mall again, this time not caring who saw her.
Diane sneaked into the building through a side door, took the stairs rather than the elevator, and went straight to her desk, moving quickly and trying to avoid looking anyone in the eye. It still took only ten minutes before her phone rang and Vader called her into his office.
Diane didn't object, didn't try to adjust her clothes, she just stood and looked down at her massive tits and shook her head. Julie had taken her home before midnight and she'd had a good night's sleep, but being so late, there was nowhere she could go to try and buy new clothes. She had the same problem she had last week but this time she didn't even bother with the elastic bandages. They hadn't done much good last time and this time her tits were even bigger. At the Victoria's Secret, Julie had asked one of the young women to measure her friend. Joe had enlarged her to a 40G, four full cup sizes bigger than her normal 40D's. Diane remembered that she'd been relieved - relieved! - to hear that, especially after staring at Norma Stitz and the others for nearly twenty four hours straight. She was freakishly large, but not anything like she might have imagined.
"Bates," Vader said softly, motioning for her to sit down. Diane sat down, leaning forward slightly, trying to curve her shoulders and hide what she obviously couldn't hide. Vader was staring at the spiky blond hair, caught himself, and looked at her face.
"Bates. I...don't know what to say. I know I can't pry into your personal life, I'm sure that you have reasons for what you're doing, but I wanted to say two things." His voice was slow and measured. Diane felt empty inside. Vader had been her boss for a long time and they'd grown close. He always treated her fairly, they liked each other. She knew that the first reprimand had torn him up, wondered what he would say now.
"First, I...Diane, we've known each other a long time. This isn't like you. Can I ask you something, not as your boss, but as your friend?"
Diane tensed. He might ask any of a hundred things and she'd have to answer with one of a hundred lies. "Go ahead."
"Is everything all right? Do you want to take some time off? Work through some things?"
She shook her head. There was no point. Monish's blackmail wasn't something that could be "worked through".
"Is it something medical? I couldn't help but notice that you were...larger, then...not...and now..." his voice faded, there wasn't any way to say it without saying it. Diane's stomach turned. Yes, and she'd probably continue looking different each few days. Yes.
Vader took a deep breath, looked at her, waited. He was as uncomfortable as she was, she thought, maybe more, though maybe that wasn't possible. His eyes looked at the door behind her, at the desk, everywhere but directly at her.
"The second thing is that..." he paused again. "...this is creating a bit of a distraction. Here in the office. You understand, don't you?"
She nodded. Of course she understood. The first time she showed up like this, men were bumping into each other watching her walk down the hall. This time, she'd seen one spilled coffee and one man trying to press a power outlet to summon the elevator. Distraction? She'd have to agree.
"I thought that something like this was permanent," he said.
Diane didn't have an answer ready and stammered, "I...it isn't..." Vader asked, "so you did this voluntarily?" She looked at him, eyes damp but still unable to speak. "You did. This is not permanent, this up and down is something you did to yourself." She didn't say anything. This girl needs help, she'd messed up, he thought. After a moment, he regained his composure, told her to head back to her desk, see if Rodrigo wanted help with the proposal he was writing, then picked up his pen and wrote something in his calendar.
The first man showed right on time, had her oil up her tits and lean forward on his lap while he pushed his cock between them. When he came, he spurted all over her neck and chin, grunting like he'd been punched. The second man did the same, the third and the fourth.
The fifth man was a little more inventive. He had her lay on her back on the edge of the bed, her head hanging over. He had her lick his balls while he fucked her tits, squatting and steadying himself with his arms on the edge of the mattress.
Most of the rest of that first night, they were straight tit-fuckers. Diane was frustrated to tears. Her tits were still sensitive and the constant pressure of the men pushing against them hurt. But it wasn't a good hurt - it wasn't sharp or biting. It was a dull, throbbing soreness that did nothing to arouse her. And she was bored. The men hardly talked to her, they came in, pulled down their pants, used her, and left. She usually had twenty or more minutes after each one to clean up. They came fast and moved on. Julie came in after her two a.m. session and told her that she'd really miscalculated. She'd book them in fifteen minute slots next time.
At eight a.m., Julie gave Diane a half hour break to eat. She fell asleep instead, exhausted from being up all night. Another break at two, then dinner at eight. Dinner was salad and a chicken breast. She ate leaning over the table, resting her tender titties on a towel. She had to reach around them to cut the meat, didn't realize how much they were going to complicate even normal activities.
At eight-thirty, Julie took the plate and towel and introduced Diane to her next appointment. The men came steadily all Saturday night and Sunday morning. At eight, Julie brought her coffee and a donut for breakfast. Diane, going on forty-eight hours with only two hours sleep, begged Julie for Monish's little yellow pills. Julie told her that there were none left and that she didn't have any money to get more. Diane snapped, "how much money have you made in the last day? HOW MUCH! You can buy me a few fucking speed pills, you fucking freak!" Julie didn't react, just stared at her calmly. "You finished?" Diane nodded. "Good. You're in for something special. The first appointment this morning is a group. They're outside waiting." She picked up the coffee and dumped it out in the sink. "With their equipment." She threw the donut in the disposal. "I'm going to let them get an early start with you." Diane hung her head, eyes wet.
The group were fetish photographers who wanted new material for the website. They had Diane put on a series of different masks - Julie insisted on keeping her face hidden - and put her in a series of obscene poses. They told Diane that their website was called "Sore Jugs" and that she should start preparing herself for some more "extreme" photos. Over the next hour and forty-five minutes, they shot nearly three hundred pictures of Diane. Dressed as a farm girl, as an office assistant, as a nurse (she groaned when they showed her that outfit), in a variety of different costumes. Each time, the series was the same. Full costume with cleavage showing, then top unbuttoned, removed, hands tied behind her back, ropes around the base of each tit, clothespins on the nipples, then a sunburst of clothespins around the areola. The ring of clothespins was shot three times. First, a series of eight in a circle. Then a full twenty-four. Finally, the twenty-four plus another ring of twenty-four an inch or so away from the first set.
During the shoots, one of them noticed that she was getting turned on as they were attaching the outer ring of clothespins. He was right, she was panting and squirming and it wasn't just from the pain. He pulled a vibrator out of his equipment bag and had one of the others hold it between her legs as he took the shots. The result was a series of facial contortions that ranged from pain to pleasure and back. When she came, she'd jerk and shake, tits bouncing and clothespins biting into her flesh. Her face showed each wave of pain that shot through her chest.
When they were finished, she was exhausted and sweaty. Her ten-thirty appointment showed up while they were still packing up their gear. He was amazed by how sensitive her tits seemed to be while he was fucking them - she kept moaning and cumming - and signed up with Julie for another session later.
Julie came into Diane's room at two thirty. "One more customer and you're done for the day. You can go home." Diane raised her head from the table and looked at Julie. Her eyes were red and bleary, she'd been without sleep for over fifty hours. She worked hard to keep her focus on Julie's face but her eyes kept drifting to the short woman's cleavage. Julie leaned forward, her big, saggy tits stretching her shirt. "Yeah, I thought that might happen." She wiggled slightly, her tits swinging free underneath her top. "Those movies got into your head, didn't they?" Diane blushed red but couldn't help getting turned on. Her eyes locked on Julie's nipples and she felt her lips open up, her tongue licking her mouth. Julie stood up and walked closer to Diane, leaned forward and pushed her chest against Diane's face. Diane opened her mouth and turned her head, looking for Julie's nipple.
"Uh, uh," Julie laughed, then pulled away and walked to the door. "Five minute warning," she said with a smile. "Pretty yourself up."
The last man came into the room and unceremoniously led her to the bed, pulled her top off, took off his pants, and tit fucked her until he shot his load all over her neck and chin.
Diane staggered from the taxi to her front door, reached for the knob and twisted. Locked. She felt for a key in her dress, but there was nothing there. She walked around the back and went in through the unlocked patio door.
She made her way into the kitchen and turned on the cold water. She leaned forward, splashed it on her face, feeling slightly more refreshed. She knew that if she fell asleep, she might not wake up until Monday, and would still be exhausted when she got to work. She pressed the speed dial on her phone that dialed Monish. He wasn't there, but she talked to Marco.
"I need to talk to Monish, I need more of his yellow pills," she said. The man at the other end of the phone laughed and said he's pass along the message. She hung up and stared at the phone. She couldn't go to sleep until she knew if Monish was coming. No, wait, he has a key. He can wake me. No. What if he calls and I don't hear the phone. She couldn't think straight, decided she should call Saabira. No, that was wrong. She didn't have Saabira's number. She would call Monish. No. He didn't want to have anything to do with her anymore, not after the show fell through. Who? Lars. Lars?
Diane phoned Lars, told him she thought she'd have some free time this week. He was excited but before he could suggest anything, she asked if he knew a woman named Saabira.
"Where did you hear that name?" Lars asked, cautiously.
"I...someone I was playing with...mentioned her," she stammered, uncertain why Lars was asking.
"Are you sure that's the name?"
"Yes, I'm pretty sure." Positive.
"Saabira is a very private woman," Lars said. Diane's heart jumped. Lars knew her! "She is not someone you phone," he continued. "She is someone who phones you."
Diane thought about that. How to best ask him to contact her? Should she let him know she'd already met Saabira? Would it do any good?
"Lars, the things I heard were...interesting. Could you...describe me to her and see if she...might want..." Lars interrupted her. "Diane. I really don't know if you're ready for this. From what I've heard, she can be a bit severe..."
Diane hung her head. Lars was being protective of her. He had no idea what she'd been through in the weeks since she last saw him. What Monish and Curtis had turned her into.
"I'm OK with that, Lars. Really. I think I'm ready to take the next step." She felt herself getting excited. Lars was listening, taking it in, she might be able to have him contact her. Maybe she could bring Lars along. And Julie. And Monish. And Vader. And...she stopped, no, not Vader, he wasn't part of it. Her head was swimming again, she needed sleep, she couldn't focus.
"Lars, would you see if..." the phone beeped, she had another call coming in. "Lars, I have to go. Could you please see if you can locate her?"
"I'll see what I can do," Lars said.
"Thanks. Listen, I have to go, I have another call," Diane rushed him. If it was Monish with the pills, she couldn't afford to miss his call.
"Sweet dreams, OK?" Lars said. Diane pressed the button and quickly said, "Monish?"
"Yeah. Five hundred dollars. A car is on the way."
Monish hung up.
Diane got up, threw the phone to the floor and went into her office. She opened the closet, knelt down and turned the knob on her small safe. Another five hundred dollars. In the last two weeks, she'd paid out fifteen hundred dollars to Monish for the drugs. Plus the charges they'd put on her card for Curtis' hotel two weeks ago. A total of nearly five thousand dollars so far. She was still in good shape financially, but at this rate, things could change fast.
She counted five one-hundred dollar bills and closed the safe. She started to stand up, lost her balance. She still wasn't used to the weight of her new chest, steadied herself against the desk.
Monish's driver show up quickly, took her money and handed her 24 pills. She argued that he'd promised her more and he just laughed. "I have a friend who needed some, so we're sharing, like a nice girl should." Diane just nodded and opened the small plastic. She took two of the pills and went to the kitchen for water.
"Come on, they're waiting," the man growled. Diane sat the rest of the pills on the table and followed him out to the car. They were alone and he had her sit in the front seat. "Just so I can keep an eye on you," he joked.
"Diane. Do you know what a quirt is?" Taylor asked.
"No...no, I don't..." Diane said through trembling lips. "I don't." But she did. She saw it in his hand, was already wondering what it was going to feel like slashing across her huge tits.
She'd never heard the word before a few months ago. One of Lars friends had mentioned it to scare her. She didn't know what it was at the time but looked it up when she got home. It was a type of short whip used mainly for horse racing.
There were several different kinds. She'd seen this type listed as a "Cuban quirt". It measured 18 inches long and three-quarters of an inch wide. It was basically one long piece of leather that was folded over and the strands intertwined by splitting one horizontally about halfway down the fold and pulling the other through the opening. This kept them working in unison to deliver the maximum amount of pain from each strand.
Taylor turned to Curtis and asked him if he was certain she was secure to the column. Curtis nodded, went back to fingering through Diane's wallet. "Here we are," he announced, holding up a credit card. "I'll transfer the deposit and the charge. You go ahead, don't wait for me," he said to Taylor.
Taylor raised the quirt and ran it slowly across Diane's cheek. "Nasty looking invention, isn't it?" He laid it across her shoulder, let go of it, watched it rest there, like a menacing snake waiting to attack.
She heard Curtis talking to someone on the phone, watched Taylor unbutton his shirt. Curtis read her credit card number to the person on the phone while Taylor folded his shirt and laid it over the back of a chair. "Yes, please charge today and tomorrow. Yes, both to this number." Curtis instructed them. "And refund the charge on my card." Taylor picked up his glasses, put them on and walked toward Diane. Curtis smiled at her. "There, that's all taken care of." Another two thousand dollars. She realized that - including the speed she was buying from Monish - she'd paid over six thousand dollars in two weeks to provide people rooms where they could abuse her.
Taylor reached for the quirt and slid it slowly off Diane's shoulder, across her left tit. He stood to the side, asked Curtis if he could see all right. Curtis nodded. Taylor raised the quirt high and swung it toward her with all of his strength.
CHAPTER 18 [Week 7 Mon - Thurs]
At six o'clock the next morning, the taxi driver opened the back door of his cab and helped Diane out of the back seat. His big, dark eyes locked on her huge chest, boobs swinging free underneath the high-necked cotton dress she was wearing. She smiled at him, a weary but polite look. He went around the car and got back in, drove up the street.
... to be continued ...