Diane Blackmailed

... continued from Chapter 15 ...

The waitress brought the sandwich, leaned forward in an exaggerated way to hand it to Diane. "Like the view?" she sneered. Diane blushed. She was right, Diane's eyes had been focused on her cleavage since she came through the kitchen door. She sat the plate on the table. Diane heard her whisper "fucking dyke" as she walked away. She felt a gush of wetness between her legs as she took a deep breath and drank in the smell of the sandwich.

CHAPTER 16 [Week 6 Wed - Thurs]

Monish sent a limo for her at five. He was in the back seat with two others, the driver hidden behind the sliding glass. They drank and talked to each other, completely ignoring her. Diane asked Monish if he'd heard anything from "that Saabira woman". Monish laughed and teased her. "You like her, hey?" Diane shook her head but didn't say anything. "Well, I'm sorry if you do. They ain't on my list no more. They told me they were gonna set me up with a three day show for you, some kind of lesbian S&M freak show. Five thousand dollars. Then, they pulled out on me. I already spent that fuckin' money, fucking cunt-ass bitches!" He growled it and Diane flinched, pushed herself back into the corner of the limo and stayed quiet the rest of the trip. She was never going to see them again.

They drove Diane to a rundown hotel in one of the blue collar suburbs nearby. Curtis and Julie were already in the room by the time she got there. Curtis was sitting in a chair near the bathroom and Julie was standing just inside the door, sucking on a cigarette and holding a glass of whiskey.

"You see? You see this?" she said angrily, pointing at Diane. "This is what I meant!" She turned to Diane. "Take off your clothes, you cow," she sneered. Diane stripped, folding her business suit and laying it on top of the dresser. Julie sat the drink on the table and pulled a photo out of her purse. Then, she lifted Diane's left tit in her hand and held up the photo. "You see? I can't promise 'em *this* and then bring 'em *this* can I? You fucking idiot!" she said. Diane didn't need to look to know what the photograph was.

Curtis shook his head. "It was a one time thing, honey. Sorry if there was a misunderstanding." He started to get up. "Is that what you brought me here for?"

Julie raised her hand. "Not so fast, sit back down." Curtis stopped but didn't sit. Julie reached into her purse again, took out a small notebook. She flipped through the pages until she found what she wanted, threw it across the room to Curtis. Curtis picked the notebook up from the floor and looked at the page.

"There's more," Julie said. She lit up a fresh cigarette and told Diane to go get her another drink. Diane picked up the glass and pressed past Julie, feeling sick as Julie's flabby body rub against hers. Her skin was cool, almost reptilian. She stared at the tattoos again. Julie reached for her, caught her elbow. "Hey, did you see my newest one?" Diane shook her head. Julie pulled down her top, baring one of her huge, floppy tits. Julie saw that there was a small barbed-wire design running around the base of the nipple. The skin was mottled and sweaty, but Julie thrust it forward like a work of art.

"Kiss it," Julie said. Diane felt her throat tighten. Julie grabbed her hair and pulled her closer. "Lick it." Diane closed her eyes and opened her mouth, letting her tongue find the puckered flesh of Julie's nipple. She opened her mouth and ran her tongue around it, tasting the dried sweat and whatever else made up that foul smell. She gagged but licked obediently, feeling the nipple stiffen against her tongue. "Oh, yeah. I'm gonna have to have you over one night, honey," Julie taunted. She pushed Diane away and adjusted her top. "Pour me two fingers, OK? On ice."

Diane wiped her lips with her hand, walked into the kitchen.

"There are over two dozen phone numbers here," Curtis said to Julie. "Tip of the iceberg. You should see my email IN box." Diane came back into the room, handed Julie the glass.

"I don't know," Curtis said. "But I see your point."

"Hell, even if we only did twenty or twenty five on a weekend, that's an easy three or four grand." Julie took a sip of the whiskey.

He looked at Diane. "So, they'll pay how much?"

Julie raised her hand. She pushed one finger up with her opposite hand. "A hundred for a suck and fuck." A second finger. "A hundred fifty if they can play with her titties while she fucks 'em..." She raised a third finger. "Two fifty for a titty-fuck..."

Diane was mortified. They were talking about her earning potential as a tit slut while she stood silent naked in the room right next to them. She was nothing but a moneymaking opportunity now, just a pair of titties attached to a body that didn't matter.

"What about Monish? Will he be a problem?"

"I don't think so. I've worked with Monish a long time. He's all about the dollar." Julie turned her head, only half addressing Diane. "Cow tits, when's the last time you made any money for Mo?" Diane said softly, "Sunday." Julie laughed. "Sunday, you were working for me, or didn't you know that?" Diane shook her head.

Julie look at Curtis. "See? He lost Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday. Did you pay him for tonight?" He answered, "no, this one's a freebie." Julie shook her head and laughed. "He's losing his focus. He juggles too many of 'em, he loses track." She pointed her thumb at Diane. "I think he's lost interest. He'll be glad if we take her off his hands."

Curtis shook his head. "I don't think so. I think he likes her. He's got a key and is at her house all the time." Diane shook her head but they didn't notice. He'd been there a few times, but that was it.

"All right, we pitch it this way. We tell him we've got a few customers, we can keep his bitch busy for him in between any sessions he sets up. He's still in charge, he can have her titties back whenever he needs 'em. We'll keep 'em busy the rest of the time. You saw how many numbers are in my book. Even if only half of them fuck her titties once a week, that's a lot of money."

Curtis walked to Diane, took her left nipple between his thumb and finger and pulled it up and out, stretching it to two inches or more.

"Are they going to care about these?" he asked Julie, not looking at Diane at all. He pulled her nipple further and inspected it with his other finger. She winced, her eyes teared up as he pulled hard. Then, he let go and her tit sagged back into place.

"They'll pay to play with those, too." Julie slapped her ass. "Ass, nipples, titties. We can piece them out separately, there's enough freaks out there for everyone." Julie pushed a finger up into Diane's ass. "See how easy? It's almost like she lubes up down there." Diane opened her knees, pushed down slightly as Julie pushed in and out. "And she likes it. That's the difference with this one." She slid a second finger into Diane's ass and Diane moaned, closed her eyes. "Most of 'em, you can tell they're doing it for the green." She pushed a third finger inside Diane's ass. "Not this one. This one's the real deal." She pulled her fingers out, pushed her hand into Diane's mouth. Diane licked her clean, slurping greedily.

Curtis took his phone out of his pocket. He punched in a phone number, waited for it to ring. Diane watched him, stomach tight, wondering how many men would really want to just fuck her tits. They were nice, but she didn't think it was a very common kink.

"Joe?" Curtis said. Diane felt her stomach drop. They didn't just want to fuck her tits. They wanted to grow them again. She shook her head, looked at Julie, started stammering "no, no...you aren't going to do that again, you can't, you..." Julie jumped up and slapped her across the face, back and forth four times. Diane stopped talking, heard Curtis go on.

"Yes... Nearly back to normal... No... wait..." he turned and set the phone down on the dresser. Then, he cupped Diane's tits in his hands, raising them, dropping them, twisting and pulling the nipples. Her eyes watered again, she bit her lip but remained silent. "No, I don't see any... yes... So, how much a day is that?... Yes, sounds right... let me get back to you." He pressed the button and the phone clicked off.

"Well?" Julie asked.

"He'll do it. But, he might have to inject her every three or four days." Diane felt her knees shaking, her body trembling.

"And they're always going to be tender all the time. That could be a problem."

Curtis looked at Diane's chest, flipped one of her breasts, watched it swing side to side. "Not for us." He looked at Diane. "For her maybe." He looked back at Julie. "For us, it's money in the bank."

Diane started sobbing out loud now. Curtis told her to shut up or leave the room. Julie pulled her closer, rested Diane's head on her shoulder, stroked her hair.

"Honey, honey, calm yourself," she said in a gentle voice. "You know what you are, you know what your life is now, you just need to relax and accept it, let it happen. It's for the best...you're going to be a great little addition to our stable. A perfect little cow, with perfect little udders."

They went on talking about how to best use her new titties, should they have a bra specially made, should they lube her for the titty fucks, how much extra would they charge someone who wanted to do nipple suction, did they want to inject hormones so they could milk her? On and on, they looked for more and more depraved ways they could use her, estimating the cost of each new service they could offer.

Curtis phoned Monish and pitched their plan. Monish objected, he wasn't sure how his regulars would react. Diane listened intently, relieved that Monish at least had some common sense. Most of Monish's customers were more interested in bondage, flogging, restraint and sex than freak show tit sluts.

In the end, it all came down to money. Curtis negotiated a fifteen percent cut for Monish on any action Julie brought in with her big titty pitch. Monish was satisfied. Diane was crushed, another sign that she was nothing now but a commodity to be negotiated over.

"Call in and take tomorrow off work," Curtis told Diane. She shook her head. "I can't. They need me at a meeting, it's..." He cut her off. "Take tomorrow off." "You don't understand, it isn't like that. Bailey won't be able to make the pitch withou..." Curtis slapped her again and handed her the phone. "I won't say it again."

Diane whimpered as she pressed the buttons, told Vader that she'd been throwing up all day and wouldn't be able to make it tomorrow, gave him some pointers on how to handle the customer, then hung up.

Curtis phoned Joe and simply asked, "how soon can you get here?"

Diane stared at the crack in the ceiling. It ran from one corner of the room to the opposite wall, right through Saranna Lee's leg. Diane tried to focus on the crack but couldn't stop her eyes from wandering back to Lee's 44H sized chest. She knew the woman's name and cup size three different ways. First, and most obvious, was that it was overlaid in thick black numbers across the bottom of the picture that was bring projected on the ceiling above her. Second, because the woman's name and bra size were being repeated in the earbuds that were taped in place in her ears. And third, she was memorizing them.  Not by choice, but because the two dozen or so pictures, names, and chest sizes had been playing in her ears in a repeating loop for the last two hours.

Diane was laying naked, flat on her back on a thin cushion. Joe had arrived just before eight o'clock last night and set up his equipment. Diane had fought as they strapped her to the top of the dresser, more out of habit than hope. The straps held her immobile - shoulders, belly, hips, knees, ankles all tied with thick bands of leather. She could freely lift and turn her head a bit, but her hands were useless and that was all that mattered.

The picture changed. "Anna Nicole Smith. 42DD. Anna Nicole Smith. 42DD."

The pictures changed and the names and sizes repeated in her ears in unpredictable patterns. Sometimes ten times, sometimes twenty, sometimes five, then the next one came up.

She could see that the saline drip bag hanging from the aluminum rod was nearly empty. She wondered what would happen when it was finished. What if Joe didn't come back? Was that a problem? Was that a possibility?

Joe explained to her that he was using a different procedure. The needles he'd used last time were more for Curtis' enjoyment than a practical necessity. He would use a simpler method this time, just letting the saline drip into her directly from the bags.

"Maxi Mounds. 61MMM." Diane still flinched when she saw this one. The photos had to be retouched, fake. Weren't they? "Maxi Mounds. 61MMM."

Each bag took about four hours, she was near the end of the second one. Joe had promised Curtis an enormous chest, larger than last time. Diane didn't know what that meant in terms of numbers and letters, but it didn't matter. She was going to be like the freaks in the slide show, she knew that. Julie had made it clear that she was going to be their featured offering, their number one product for the big boob crowd.

Joe had bragged that he'd done more research and was ready to push her farther, she would be the largest he'd ever attempted. Diane was too scared to listen, hadn't looked when Joe passed around a photo of a J sized girl. Her name was Traci Topps, a big bust model from the 90's. Curtis didn't believe what he was looking at, Julie just laughed. "Yeah, I seen 'em like that. Sure would give you a sore back tho."

"Pamela Anderson. 36DD." Diane shook her head and stared at the smiling face on the slide. Pamela Anderson had been her idea of a huge-chested woman until today. Now, she was just another girl.

Joe had let Diane rest two hours between the first bag and this one, had told her that he had to time everything just right or her tits wouldn't look natural. She laughed bitterly and said, "natural?" Joe warned her, "you might not like the way these look, but trust me, if you ever saw this done badly, you'd appreciated me taking my time." Diane shuddered to imagine what a "bad job" might mean.

"Norma Stitz. 72ZZ. Norma Stitz. 72ZZ." Diane's stomach and throat tightened. Norma was the most extreme of the bunch. "Norma Stitz. 72ZZ" But that wasn't it. What Diane was bracing herself for was the next half hour. The last two times Norma's picture had come up, it was followed by a series of tit torture videos. From amateur sites, professional sites, bondage clubs, even pay sites that had been hacked. The videos ran for twenty minutes or so before going back to the slide show.

Diane closed her eyes, but the sounds in her ears had the same effect this time as they had the last two times. After just a few minutes of listening to the moans of the helpless submissives and the steady, commanding voices of their doms, she felt her nipples getting stiff and her cunt getting wet. She opened her eyes and drank in what she saw, picturing herself as the woman, grinding her hips in frustration, wishing she could touch herself and masturbate to the sights and sounds, wishing the woman in the picture was her.

It was seven thirty Thursday night when Diane had the most humiliating experience of her life. So far.

Joe had finished her treatment by mid-afternoon. He turned off the projector and gently removed the earbuds. He let her rest on the dresser while her body adjusted to what he'd done to it. Between the second and third bags, he'd lifted her shoulders and slid a piece of plywood underneath her, then attached two vertical pieces to it, giving her huge breasts some support. She felt them huge and swollen and pressing hard against the wood, looked down and saw her nipples. She hadn't considered what might happen to them as she swelled bigger and bigger until she noticed the Stitz woman's. Diane's breasts weren't nearly that huge, but the areolas had stretched, followed the swelling of her breasts. Each was nearly four inches across now, the nipples standing stiff in the center. She closed her eyes tight and tried to get the image out of her head.

Diane lay there in silence, listening to Julie making phone call after phone call, promising pictures of the newest tit slut in town, a hot blond with 42 J size jugs. The man at the other end said something and Julie laughed, "nipples like cigars. You'll love 'em." Julie hung up the phone and punched another number. She yelled to Curtis, "another nipple freak!"

Julie scheduled appointments back to back in 30 minute windows, starting that Friday night at six and running non-stop till Sunday night at midnight. Most were solos, only two of the appointments were for groups. Each group had a two hour window and they had to promise Julie could stay to monitor so things didn't get out of hand.

About four o'clock, Julie finally closed her notebook and settled back.

"Curtis, dear! Bring me a beer," she yelled into the kitchen. Curtis came in holding two cold beer bottles.  Julie took a long chug, emptied half of the bottle. She wiped her hand across her mouth. "I guess I better do her hair."

Joe nodded and undid the buckles that were holding Diane's straps in place. "Sit up," he said. "SLOWLY." Diane squeezed her eyes tight and let her legs slide off the edge of the dresser. When she tried to sit up, she couldn't. The weight of her new titties was too heavy and they were screaming with pain.

"That's OK," Joe said. "Go nice and slow." Diane shook her head. "I can't, I can't." "Easy," Joe encouraged her. "Hold them if it'll help," he said. Diane wrapped her arms across her belly underneath the huge swollen globes that hung from her chest. She had to make every move carefully, everything was new and everything hurt.

"Here, sit her here," Julie said. Diane settled into a kitchen chair she'd brought into the room and surrounded with towels. Julie washed Diane's hair, then started applying the chemicals that would turn Curtis' redhead into Julie's blond.

By six, they were finished and examined their product. Diane stood naked in front of the bathroom mirror. Her hair had been dyed blond, then cropped short and spiky. Julie had shaved her cunt hair down to a single strip, also dyed blond. But the huge change was her new rack. Diane hadn't seen the photos of the J size tit model so she was shocked to see the huge watermelons hanging from her chest. She wouldn't have believed it if someone told her or showed her a photo, she would have said it was fake. But these weren't fake. These were hers.

The weight was horrible, she could barely stand erect. Julie told her she'd have to work on that, she couldn't sell her if she was hunched over hiding her titties all the time. "A good product knows how to present itself," Julie said.

"Speaking of presenting, we have to get our investment something attractive to wear," Curtis said.

"Yes. She opens for business tomorrow night."

Julie produced several stretchy pieces of material and maneuvered Diane into them. When she was finished, Diane looked worse than any trashy hooker she'd seen those nights they made her work the streets. She was wearing bright yellow thigh-high stockings, a skintight, sheer black miniskirt no more than five inches wide, and a sheer burgundy colored top that covered her from underneath the armpits halfway down her belly. She stared at herself in the mirror. Her landing strip cunt was visible through the skirt and her huge breasts strained the top to its ripping point.

"Walk for us," Joe said. Diane turned and took a step forward. She nearly toppled, her balance completely off. "No spiked heels yet, eh?" Joe laughed. Julie said, "give her a minute."

Diane walked slowly up and down the hall, trying to keep her titties from shifting but it was no use. They were too big and too new. She felt her nipples rub against the fabric, her titties swinging and sore.

After she'd walked up and down the hall five times, Julie put her in spike heels. She had to practice a long time before she could take any more than a few steps. As soon as Julie was satisfied, they told Diane to get in the car.

They drove her to the mall. It was a Thursday night so it was not particularly busy. Diane was relieved. She felt embarrassed as they walked her through the Penney's department store and past the smaller video outlets and jewelry shops. She saw a family approaching and stepped into one of the stores, doing her best to turn invisible.

Julie told her that they were heading to the famous Victoria's Secret store to find her some sexy things to wear for her new customers. They walked past the record store and another restaurant. Diane happened to look in the window and froze. It was Carol and her mother. They were sitting at a table just inside the window, waiting to be served. "What?" asked Julie. "No...nothing," Diane said just as Carol looked up. Their eyes locked and Carol's mouth dropped open. "Someone you know?" Julie asked. "No! Let's go," Diane said, walking quickly away. Julie grabbed her arm and pulled her back. "I don't think so. You're not going anywhere." She motioned for Joe to hold Diane's hand and she did. Julie stripped off her jacket, exposing more of her tattooed flesh. She hiked up her skirt until the bottom of her ass was showing, then lit a cigarette. "Come on," she motioned to Curtis and Joe. Diane tried to wrestle herself away but between keeping her balance and dealing with her new huge tits, she couldn't put up much of a fight.

Julie walked into the restaurant and led Curtis and Joe to the table Diane had been looking at. Joe led Diane to the table, pushed her forward. She stumbled and had to grab the table for support.

"Diane?" Carol's mother asked. Diane looked at her, nodded. "Hello." Carol gave her a puzzled look. "Diane? What's going on?" Julie turned and reached her hand behind Diane's head, pulled her close and gave her a loud, slurpy wet kiss. Diane struggled but Julie was stronger. When she removed her mouth, she ran her hand over Diane's chest, gently tugging her left nipple. Diane let out a moan, she couldn't help it. Carol's mother put her head down, closed her eyes so she wouldn't have to look.

"Diane, who is this?" Carol stammered, trying to make sense of it all. "Oh, hasn't Diane told you about me?" Julie asked. "I'm hurt. We've been lovers for nearly a year now." She kissed Diane again, running her tongue along her neck. "Have you been hiding me, baby? Do I embarrass you?" Julie leaned forward, pushing her cleavage into Carol's face. "My tattoos? Or that my body isn't nice and slim like yours?"

Diane was shuddering, tears running down her face and unable to form words. Her embarrassment was too deep, she couldn't talk. She looked at Carol's face. Carol was confused, hurt, that her friend hadn't told her about this. A whole year? An entire year she'd been sneaking around with her piggish and rude lesbian lover?

And her hair. And the monstrous breasts. Carol's head was swimming. She wanted to know what Diane had done to her body and why, but was more hurt that she'd kept everything such a secret.

"Diane, I would have been there for you," Carol said quietly. "You just needed to tell me."

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, ran her fingers along Carol's forearm. "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 ... should we continue?