Boob Queen: Sydney vs Billie
As the doors to the limousine opened, a collective gasp rippled through the crowd of paparazzi and celebrities. All heads turned, as if stirred by the waves of the ocean.
Before anyone saw her face, before the dress designer could be identified, before the clicking of the cameras flashed….
….a pair of majestic, buoyant breasts encased in a silky silver gown that seemed to defy the laws of physics swayed and bounced like a pendulum in full swing.
The cameraman filming the sight before him had to do an immediate double take, his heart having skipped a beat at the hypnotic bosomy motion. As he took his eyes off the camera, slack-jawed, he saw her:
A sly smirk played on her lips, her blonde hair serving as a halo around a face that knew the power it held over everyone else. Ice cold blue eyes that glared at the world with an innate desire to conquer. A confidence in her swaying hips and sultry stride that bordered on arrogance. Two perfect, globular orbs, straining against the delicate fabric as they bounced and wobbled.
It was Sydney Sweeney.
To audiences across the world, she was Hollywood's undisputed “boob queen,” a title bestowed upon her by the media and fans alike. But in the lesser known and often brutal circles of the Hollywood elite, Sydney had a far more fearsome title that she preferred. It was here that she was known as “The Boobfight Queen.”
It was a crown she had earned, through years of dedication and ruthless conquest. A fact that Scarlett Johansson, Jennifer Lawrence, Kate Upton, and Kat Dennings had all discovered….the hard way.
How those dumb bitches thought they could take her title, only to be stripped of their reputations and their bras, was beyond her imagination. Naturally, their pride had been shattered and their careers were obsolete, having faced the ultimate humiliation. And now, Sydney stood at the top of Hollywood.
And yet, the blonde bombshell only felt it was yesterday when she encountered and destroyed all threats to her.
As her magnificent and defiant breasts drew the eye of every powerful man and envious woman in the vicinity, Sydney's smile widened. The memory was as fresh as the silky threads she wore.
Sydney could still feel the satisfying weight as her bosom flattened Johansson’s prized pair, the shock in the older actress's eyes showing tearful panic. Her red locks of hair, still dyed in the fashion of her famous superheroine character, flew around her face as she was slammed to the floor. The Black Widow was smashed under the weight of Sydney’s full bosom.
Or what of Jennifer Lawrence and her desperate attempts to gain leverage? Those prideful breasts of hers turned into pitiful mosquito bites when pressed against Sydney's cleavage. The chatty blonde had talked a big game only to find herself inadequate when faced with Sydney’s superior pair, which silenced her completely.
Even Kate Upton, the blonde swimsuit icon who mistakenly thought that size had equated to power, was a whimpering mess long before the end. Those fat udders were bruised and beaten beyond recognition after Sydney’s pair boxed them into submission. It had been amusing to send the statuesque supermodel home on all fours, sobbing like a little girl.
And Kat Dennings, whose formidable pair had once been the talk of the town, was now just a footnote in Sydney's legend. The way the brunette had initially cupped her bosom as a boast of power made Sydney laugh in hindsight. It had brought Sydney a particular joy to press up against the bosomy brunette, to feel her struggle and her breath hitch in fear, before smothering her completely. That had been true power.
These women would lose their bras and their bragging rights to Sydney as their careers quickly dissipated after. It had been as if Sydney’s dominance forced the industry to acknowledge that her throne was not to be challenged.
And as Sydney glided down the red carpet, a sea of flashing lights and adoring screams accompanying her, she felt the whole world belonged to her.
“Like you what see?” Sydney teasingly asked the cameraman, who had been ogling her, “Take a good look because that’s the closest you’ll ever get.”
Then, with a subtle bouncing sway in her chest, Sydney turned and walked towards her destination, poised with a sense of superiority.
But as the blonde walked across the carpet and into the gala, a song began to thrum through the gigantic sound system while the big screen showcased music equalizer bars that matched the tempo, volume, and rhythm of the singer.
It had a dark, pulsating beat. The female singer sang with an almost sardonic moaning to her voice, as if she struggled to breathe behind the microphone and had to exhale ragged breaths after each line but could not. Was this supposed to be sexy? It sounded more desperate than erotic, if that was what it was trying to be.
Then, the song’s title was presented on the massive screens as "B00B5".
“Skin tight, see through, watch that bounce,
I'm that girl on the prowl, ready to pounce,
Headlines screaming, headlights beaming,
What is it you think you're seeing?
They're just letters, digits on a screen,
But you're the one making it obscene,
Bee-Zero-Zero-Bee-Five
A code you can't crack, a story you can write
Bee-Zero-Zero-Bee-Five
Just a number to keep you up at night.”Sydney paused, her mouth wide open while her eyes rolled. What was this whiny, holier-than-thou crap?
With its tone of fake vulnerability and the fact that the letter B wasn’t even a number, Sydney considered it an insult to her intelligence. This song was an anthem of the weak. It was music representing the type of women Sydney had so effortlessly conquered. How could she relate to this?
"Bee-Zero-Zero-Bee-Five
You think you know me, read between the lines,
You truly wanna compare yours to mine?
You're staring, you're watching, always
But honey, you’re way a ways away,
My shoulders, my chest, does it provoke you?
It's just my body, isn’t that what you wanted?
Bee-Zero-Zero-Bee-Five..."Sydney’s jaw tightened. The smirk on her face was gone, replaced with an irritable frown. The breathy, self-important singer was grating on her nerves. The blonde scanned the crowd, her eyes narrowing. Which one was it? Which annoying, green-haired, baggy pants wearing excuse of a bitch wrote this shit music?
Which one would she have to smother next?
Sydney was already picturing it. A satisfying way to snuff out this irritating song. She just needed to find its source.
The irritation simmered beneath Sydney’s skin as she stepped into the main hall of the gala. The air, thick with expensive perfume and the low hum of celebrity chatter, did little to soothe her. Her hunt was on. Her magnificent chest led the way, bouncing like a proud battering ram of bosomy flesh, parting the sea of celebrities in her way.
She scanned the room, noticing a few faces she’d already previously conquered. Then, others who were not even worth comparing herself to.
And that’s when Sydney saw her.
Slumped near a ridiculously oversized ice sculpture of a swan was a figure that perfectly matched Sydney’s mental image of angsty zoomer dark pop emo bitch. One who embodied the gloomy, almost bored demeanor. The signs of someone who thought they were too cool for the very event they’d chosen to attend. The hair wasn't green, yes, but rather, it was a stark jet black that seemed to absorb the light around it.
And the outfit? Sydney’s eyes narrowed. The audacity of this bitch. It was a near-perfect replica of her own gown but rendered in a midnight black satin that clung to the girl’s frame. Like a cheap, gothic imitation of her angelic form.
This was Billie Eilish.
And of course, it was her. Who else could produce such a miserable, self-pitying excuse for music?
Sydney’s lips curled into a predatory smirk. This would be way easier than she thought, as she approached. She’d shove her breasts against Billie Eilish’s chest and make it look like an accident, sending the singer onto the floor and thereby humiliating the wannabe. Then, after letting her know what the pecking order was, she’d finish her off in private.
Setting her plan in motion, Sydney began to strut towards her target, the sway of her bosom quivering with a confident and mesmerizing rhythm.
As Sydney drew in, Billie Eilish had finished a conversation with the film director to her music video before turning around, as if possessing a sixth sense. And in that moment, the entire world suddenly tilted on its axis for Sydney Sweeney.
The black satin of Billie's dress was not just clinging to a frame, it was strained under the pressure of the colossal bosom it attempted to contain. They were two impossible, voluminous orbs that dwarfed the bra which hosted them. They jutted forward with insolence and with heavy power like cannons on a warship. They weren't just big. They were possibly even bigger than Sydney’s own.
A cold chill coursed through Sydney. It was impossible.
No one could dare challenge her, could they?
Before Sydney could process this revelation, the camera lights started flashing.
“Sydney! Billie! Over here! Come on, right over here,” yelled a photographer, eager to get celebrity shots. “We need a shot of you two together!”
A murmur rippled through the nearby guests. The twin outfits were too delicious an opportunity for the media and Hollywood itself to ignore. Suddenly, the two women were being corralled together, pushed by public demand. Trapped.
Sydney’s pride wouldn’t allow her to flee. She would confront Billie Eilish, head on.
“Nice dress,” Sydney purred, her voice laced with a dose of catty sarcasm to hide any panic she might’ve had, “Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, I suppose.”
Billie turned her head, her gaze lazy but sharp as she sized Sydney’s body from head to toe. A slow, knowing smirk spread across her face as she observed the blonde’s chest.
“Maybe great minds just think alike,” Billie said, her voice a low, breathy whisper that quickly got on Sydney’s nerves. “Of course, I also have the right body type for a dress like this.”
"Maybe you’re not the only one," Sydney purred back, her tone dripping with ice as her eyes flicked down to Billie’s chest and then back up, “It takes real confidence to pull this look off.”
"Oh, don't you worry," Billie whispered, leaning in and flaunting her cleavage as she did so, "I've got plenty of confidence to spare. Do you?"
Sydney didn’t respond. Instead, she turned her head away so no one could see her rolling her eyes at the bitch’s comments.
“Closer, ladies! Give us something amazing,” shouted the photographers, as they closed in.
Sydney squared her shoulders, smiling as she puffed out her chest in an attempt to assert her dominance. The blonde stood side-by-side with Billie, keenly aware of the bosomy comparison taking place just inches away.
But as they angled for the cameras, Billie took a subtle step forward, pivoting her body so she was pressed against Sydney’s side.
Except it wasn't a mere bump. It was an envelopment.
Sydney felt it instantly. The soft and heavy pressure of Billie’s breasts pressing into her own caused her to quietly gasp.
The dark haired woman leaned in, her lips close to Sydney’s ear as the two starlets posed for the camera, feigning friendliness.
“You know, we almost look like twins,” Billie whispered, her breath tickling Sydney’s skin, “But I’m bigger and badder.”
As Billie pushed closer, Sydney felt the space around her closing in. The bitch’s chest felt incredibly vast, akin to a suffocating impact that made Sydney’s own prized assets feel contained. Maybe even pinned.
“Is that better?” Billie asked the photographer, all while keeping the pressure applied. She had a mischievous gleam in her eyes that only Sydney could see, “Or should we pose closer together?”
With that, Billie Eilish subtly shoved Sydney with her breasts, causing the blonde to lose her footing and end up being pinned up against the wall. On the surface, Sydney was still standing. But in reality, she was completely trapped as Billie’s bosom was directly pressed up against her chest.
“Wow, look at that shot.”
“I never realized how much Billie was really packing.”
“Was she really always hiding that?”
“Hey, she makes Sydney look average.”
From the edges of the crowd, Sydney could hear the whispers. Some of the comments were like daggers to her ego. They were talking about Billie Eilish instead of her, Sydney Sweeney!
A flush of red hot rage and humiliation crept up Sydney’s cheeks. The world was watching her be dethroned in real-time. She kept the smile on her face but deep down, she bit hard on her tongue while pressing down on her feet. The sting of it was a welcome distraction from the recent attack on her pride.
But make no mistake. Sydney knew this was not just a challenge. This was, now, an all out war.
As the two women pushed off and moved away from one another, Billie Eilish simply smirked at Sydney, who gave her the evil eye in return.
“Guess I’ll see you around, Sydney,” Billie stated with the utmost confidence, as she walked off.
“Looking forward to it, bitch,” Sydney muttered under her breath, her fists clenching.
Back in her penthouse suite, Sydney Sweeney tore off her silver gown and threw the dress to the floor in frustration, her bosom wobbling as strut over to the balcony where she had a perfect view of the city. Now clad only in her bra and panties, the blonde bombshell began to scroll her phone.
The notifications on her phone were far worse than she could’ve ever imagined. Immediately, the trending topics were #Boobfight, #SydneyWho, #BillieBustsOut, and #B00B5.
The gala photos had flooded the internet. But the narrative had clearly been hijacked!
What had gone viral was the main photo featuring a smirking Billie pressing her chest into Sydney’s boobs with the blonde having a worried look on her face.
The photo was plastered everywhere Sydney looked, her social media profile tagged every second. But what truly annoyed the blonde were the edits.
One popular meme showed the picture with a giant red arrow pointing to Billie’s bosom, captioned, “When You’re the Main Character.” There was a 1950s vs 2020s comparison contrasting the image with the infamous Jayne Mansfield and Sophia Loren breast envy photograph. Another image that already acquired tens of thousands of likes had Sydney’s face AND her boobs replaced with crying Michael Jordan memes, the bald heads replacing her boobs. The last one the blonde saw was an image showcasing Sydney with the caption “Before” while Billie was the “After”.
And that obnoxious song! “B00B5” was everywhere! It was no longer a whiny, self-important pop song. It was now a viral ode of Billie’s dominance, only reinterpreted as a direct taunt aimed at Sydney Sweeney. The line “
You truly wanna compare yours to mine?” was screenshotted and plastered over just about every picture of the two women.
But what really caused Sydney to throw a fit were the images that were cropped, showcasing Billie Eilish as the sole subject.
There were dozens of them. All over major celebrity gossip sites, fan accounts, even some mainstream news outlets. They had simply erased her. She was supposed to be the Boob Queen and yet, she had been reduced to a backdrop for Billie’s triumph.
Eventually, after a few glasses of champagne, Sydney opened her direct messages. Typing in Billie Eilish’s verified account, Sydney’’s finger hovered over the message box, trembling with rage. She typed.
@SydneySweeney:
Enjoying your fifteen minutes of fame? I hope that push-up bra and tissue paper was worth it.Sydney hit send, her heart pounding as she downed her glass of champagne. The “seen” notification appeared almost instantly. A moment later, the three little dots appeared. Billie was typing a response.
@BillieEilish: Aww, did someone get cropped out of her own picture? That’s rough. Don’t worry, I’ll tag you in the next one. Maybe.Sydney grit her teeth together. The condescending bitch!
@SydneySweeney: Don’t flatter yourself. My boobs don’t need cheap tricks to get attention. I get on talent, alone. Unlike your overly stuffed publicity stunt. How lame.
@BillieEilish: Is that what you like telling yourself? It’s okay to admit when you’re out of your league, Syd.@SydneySweeney: Out of my league? Bitch, I’ve ended careers with this chest. Maybe I might just do the same to you! 
The typing dots appeared again. Then, it paused. Billie was taking time to craft her response. Sydney smirked as she knew her words had struck. She began typing again.
@SydneySweeney: You think you’re so big? Prove it, then. Your tiny tits wouldn’t even last two seconds in one of my bras. I’m the Queen. LOL!This was her checkmate. Billie would back down, unable to meet the challenge. Then, she would make totally lame excuses, in an attempt to avoid Sydney. All the while, Sydney would call her out in public before luring her to her doom in a titfight. It would be perfect.
But the reply came back faster than Sydney expected.
@BillieEilish: Is that a challenge? Yeah??…
…
…
@BillieEilish: Okay, Sweeney. Let’s make this simple. Let’s trade bras. I’ll try yours on. You’ll try mine.Sydney’s heart skipped a beat. Trade? Was this for real? Was she really going to accept this?
The blonde paused for a moment before gritting her teeth. Of course, she would. She would prove herself superior.
@SydneySweeney: Fine. Let’s see you try on one of my bras. Then we’ll see who’s hiding what.Sydney held her breath, her own chest heaving with a mixture of fury and anticipation as she tossed her phone to the side. This was it. She had thrown down the gauntlet.
As she paced around the room, Sydney had another idea. Still clad in her bra and panties, the blonde got up and walked over to the wall. She smiled as she observed the battle trophies dangling from the wall, with labels beneath each one. Johanssen, Lawrence, Upton, and Denning’s bras were on display.
Sydney took each bra down and held them with a mischievous smile as she unhooked her own bra, ready to send the challenge.
The days that followed were a test of endurance for Sydney.
She spent hours fantasizing about the moment the package would arrive at Billie’s doorstep. She pictured the smug singer unboxing her package before her face contorted in terror as she held up Sydney’s bra. The younger bitch would try it on, only for the cups to feel surprisingly empty on her frame.
Existential dread would flash in those dead, sleepy eyes of hers. She’d even be too scared to send a reply.
And Sydney? Sydney would wait a day before leaking the story herself in a triumphant reclamation of her bosomy supremacy. The world would learn that Billie Eilish was nothing but a fraud.
The knock on the door came earlier than expected. When the reciprocal package finally arrived, it was delivered in a sleek, black box with no return address.
Sydney’s heart hammered against her ribs. Inside, nestled in black tissue paper was a black touchpad with Billie Eilish’s logo on it. Confused, Sydney picked up the device. The screen lit up.
A smirk touched Sydney’s lips, her eyes rolling. What was this, a video confession? A tearful apology?
As Sydney pressed play, Billie Eilish’s face filled the screen.
“Cute little care package, Sweeney,” Billie began, her voice a low, gravelly purr, “Sending the bras of your fallen foes? Real clever. Also, real fucking foolish.”
The screen cut away.
The first image was Scarlett Johansson’s lacy red bra, looking comically tiny against Billie’s chest.
Billie, wearing nothing but the bra and a pair of black shorts, danced mockingly to one of her own pulsating tracks. Her bosom strained against the fabric, spilling over the top and sides. With a single flex of her shoulders backwards, the bra’s seams ripped with an audible tear. The video froze on the destroyed bra before cutting to a still image of Scarlette’s bra, destroyed.
Next was Jennifer Lawrence’s more "sensible" bra. Billie barely managed to squeeze into it. Her expression suggested that it annoyed her to even wear it. Then the raven haired musician did a simple, casual bounce. The fabric strained, the straps dug into her shoulders, and her bosom spilled over the top. Another freeze-frame, this time with the underwire poking out at a weird angle. Lawrence’s bra was worthless now.
Then, came Kate Upton’s famously large cupped swimsuit top.
“This looks promising,” Billie cooed sarcastically, as she adjusted it over her frame. Designed to fit the supermodel’s proportions, it ended up fitting snugly. But then, Billie then took a deep breath and puffed her chest up followed by once bounce, two bounces, three bounces. Suddenly, the bikini top’s elastic latch unraveled with a whipping sound, unable to handle the expansion, while the metal clasp exploded to the floor with a clink. Kate Upton’s bikini top was now useless.
Then came Kat Dennings’ bra. Billie held it up to the camera with a look of disdain.
“This one just feels sad and pathetic,” Billie stated, “Made for a pair that had already given up.”
The pop starlet put the bra on. It became clear the bra was designed for a different shape entirely. Much wider and far shallower. In contrast, Billie’s heavy, round breasts filled it with a dense and powerful weight that it could not handle. All she did was shrug her shoulders and with a loud pop, the two cups of the bra flew to the side, still obscuring but partially revealing Billie’s honkers.
The still shot of Kat Denning’s bra, broken beyond repair, stood there.
Finally, the screen showed Billie holding Sydney’s own custom-made silver bra. It was the same one she had worn to the gala.
Sydney leaned closer, her knuckles white as she gripped the touchpad.
Billie slipped the bra on. For a heart-stopping second, it looked perfect. The cups were filled, the cleavage was spectacular, the fit was almost exact. Billie even looked into the camera, genuine surprise in her eyes.
“Wow,” Billie whispered before smiling, “you almost got me.”
Then Billie took a deep breath and slowly began swaying her shoulders at the camera, shaking her bosom at Sydney and showcasing her colossal chest in a way that made Sydney’s stomach clench with a feeling she’d never experienced before in her life. Envy.
What followed was the audio of straining threads. The singer threw her head back and began stretching her arms to the side before jutting her chest outwards. She continued shaking her chest as she bounced before singing “Bee. Zero. Zero. Bee. Five.”
The camera footage zoomed in on the bra’s center, where the stitching began unraveling under the immense pressure of her bosom. Snapping sounds could be heard.
Then, the footage faded to black.
A cold dread washed over Sydney. Her hands shook as she set the touchpad aside. Wide eyed, she tore through the rest of the tissue paper. And there it was.
Sydney’s bra, torn apart, with “
XOXO, B00B5” written on a card next to it. Surrounding it were the other broken bras.
As Sydney picked her bra up, organized beneath it was Billie’s bra.
Jet black like her hair, the sheer architecture of it was daunting. The cups were deep, structured with an underwire that was meant to be load bearing. It felt heavier and denser than Sydney’s own.
With trembling fingers, Sydney unhooked her current bra and let it fall to the floor. She slipped her arms through the straps and pulled it around her back, her fingers finding the clasp. It hooked easily enough.
Then, she turned to face the full-length mirror.
A sharp gasp escaped her lips. The bra was on, but it wasn’t filled.
While Sydney’s immense breasts were certainly substantial, they were lost in the cavernous cups of Billie’s bra.
She had been so sure. And now, surrounded by the pathetic and broken trophies of her past, Sydney was left to confront the truth.
She couldn’t fill it. She was smaller.
Sydney stared in the mirror, still in shock. But just then….
BZZZT.The phone vibrated on the marble countertop, the noise startlingly loud. Sydney flinched, her eyes darting toward the screen.
@BillieEilish: Got my package? Let me know what you think.@SydneySweeney: You think this is funny? This whole pathetic stunt? This proves NOTHING!@BillieEilish: Stunt? Sydney, the only stunt here is you thinking you were ever on my level. Face it, grandma. I broke your bra. 
@SydneySweeney: You’re nothing but a cheap fraud! Those implants of yours couldn’t handle me in a real fight, anyway.@BillieElish: LOL! Someone’s jealous! Btw, I can assure you that these are 100% natural. @SydneySweeney: Prove it, then! Let’s settle it like women. Just you and me. Anytime. Anywhere. Any place. Name it. Unless you’re scared?Sydney held her breath, her own magnificent bosom heaving as she watched the dots on the screen.
@BillieEilish: Done. My set. Tomorrow. Lunch break. Be there. Or don’t. Makes no difference to me.@SydneySweeney:
I’ll be seeing you, then, bitch. Don’t chicken out.
The next day, Sydney pushed through the heavy doors of the studio and walked onto the set. Inside was a gigantic stage with multiple green screens behind it and various colorful set walls, all lit by the lighting equipment. Multiple fake marble busts of…well, busts, were set up on the stage. A sign reading “B00B5”, in digital script, hung overhead.
The air inside was cool, causing Sydney’s nipples to harden as she entered alone. The hum of the studio's air conditioner and her footsteps were the only sounds she could hear. Otherwise, it was empty, as promised.
And there, sitting on a white cube in the middle of the set, was Billie Eilish.
The singer was slouched over on her phone, wearing an oversized black hoodie with the hood pulled over her jet-black hair.
She didn't look up as Sydney approached nor did she pay attention to the soled cowgirl boots that echoed from beyond her vision.
Sydney stopped about ten feet away, her arms crossed defensively over her chest, which was revealed via a simple low cut white t-shirt.
Finally, Billie lifted her head.
“So, you actually came?” Billie asked, rhetorically, “I was beginning to think you wouldn’t show.”
“What? You think I wouldn’t miss the opportunity to kick your ass?” Sydney snapped back, her voice tight with suppressed rage.
Billie chuckled, “Honestly? I don’t really care.”
With a deliberate and theatrical slowness, Billie stood up and grabbed the zipper of her hoodie. As she pulled the zipper down, she casually shrugged the hoodie off her shoulders and let it fall to the floor.
Beneath, she wore a simple black tank top. But her look was anything but simple.
Her bosom was a force of nature, as if possessing its own magnetic gravitational pull, especially when attracting people’s eyes towards it.
Sydney felt an involuntary clench in her gut. The video had not been a trick. They were real. They were massive. And they were right in front of her.
Billie took a step forward, her bosom bouncing and swaying, as she closed the distance between the two until they were only a few feet apart. The singer’s eyes never left Sydney’s. It was clear her bosomy arsenal had locked onto Sydney and was ready for combat.
“Alright, Sweeney,” Billie said, her voice dropping to a near-whisper. “You wanted to settle this? Let’s settle this.”
The space between the two women closed immediately. These were two bosomy apex predators sizing their competition up, mirror images except clad in black and white. Being the same height further leveled the playing field as they pressed their bosoms against one another, causing their breasts to morph into spherical shapes.
The heavy curve of Sydney’s bosom made contact with the massive milkers of Billie Eilish. It wasn’t a mere bump or shove. It was a slow and deliberate press to shove her opponent out of her space.
And that was all it took.
A snarl ripped from Sydney’s throat as she lunged forth, her hands reaching out to grab a fistful of Billie’s black hair.
But Billie was ready.
In the same motion, the songstress’s own hands shot up, tangling itself just as fiercely within Sydney’s golden locks. They were interlocked together, blonde and black.
The immediate result was their bosoms mashing together. A soft but distinct thump reverberated through the empty studio as their chests collided with full force. The air was driven from Sydney’s lungs.
It was like being pressed against a battering ram. The blonde grunted. She pulled and twisted at her rival, trying to wrench Billie off-balance.
"Is that all you've got?" Billie Eilish taunted, her voice a low growl before producing a smirk on her lips. Her bust continued to invade Sydney’s territory.
The blonde immediately jerked her body in reaction and as she lost her footing, Sydney took the raven haired woman down to the floor with her with a yelp.
The two rolled across the studio floor, their manes entangling as they grappled for dominance. Their bosoms remained their main point of contact, mashing down on their rival so long as they stood on top rather than bottom.
Sydney arched her back as Billie pulled her hair and pressed her breasts downward on the singer’s massive cleavage, watching it strain across her tank top as she lay on the floor.
In return, the struggling Sydney pulled back at Billie Eilish’s hair and wrapped her arms around the raven haired woman’s head, pressing her cleavage down around her neck and shoving her head back, uncomfortably.
“Let go of me,” Billie cried out.
“You like that, bitch?” Sydney taunted, attempting to close Billie off and smother her, early on.
But as Billie attempted to push herself off the floor, her bosom beat up against the bottom of Sydney’s chest, causing the blonde to feel her tits compress against her chest despite being on top.
Sydney grunted in response, pushing the full weight of her body down in retaliation.
In truth, Sydney might as well have been pushing against a concrete wall. She could feel the immense mass of Billie’s bosom down below denying her the full movement she had wanted to, in her attempt to smother the bitch beneath her.
As Billie began to buck her hips up, she clawed at the blonde’s arms, causing her to screech out.
“I’m gonna take you on a wild ride, Sydney,” Billie taunted, as she continued her hip thrusts.
Sydney’s breasts bounced in her tank top, the pressure of her opponent pumping her hips into her body throwing her off balance. Soon, the blonde lost her grip and was forced to release her hold over Billie.
Unfortunately for Sydney, this was also when Billie took advantage of the situation and shoved the blonde backwards, causing her to roll to the side.
With a furious hiss escaping her lips, Sydney scrambled back to her feet, her cheeks flushed and her blonde hair a tangled mess.
Billie rose more gracefully like a predator bouncing onto her feet.
“You got lucky! I had you, you bitch,” Sydney spat, panting as she squared her shoulders, pushing her chest out in a display of defiance.
“You’re so delusional, Sydney,” Billie retorted, letting out a chuckle as she watched the blonde’s boobs bursting forth. As the musician covered her mouth with her hands in a sign of deep amusement, it caused her bosom to jiggle in the black tank top.
The sight intimidated Sydney, slightly. But it also heightened her motivation.
With a roar, Sydney charged. It wasn't an attempt to grab hair this time. Instead, it was a full-frontal assault. She led forward with her chest, aiming to use her own formidable bosom as a battering ram.
The sound of the collision was a meaty thud that rang out across the studio floor. Flesh met flesh in a brutal contest of mass and momentum. Sydney’s bosom, firm and round, pressed up against the mountainous mammaries of Billie Eilish. For a moment, the blonde felt herself pressing forth with the advantage. She felt her momentum generated enough power to displace Billie’s sheer size as she slammed forth.
She was wrong.
Billie’s chest seemed to absorb the impact, vibrating almost akin to a slow motion scene as the raven haired pop star absorbed the impact. She grunted, not in pain, but in defensive effort. With a curious smirk, Billie stared down at Sydney’s boobs and the shock in her eyes. Then, Billie shoved back.
Sydney staggered, her cowgirl boots skidding on the polished concrete floor. The blonde swung her arms wildly as she lost momentum, trying to catch herself as her tits bounced in the low cut shirt’s neckline.
“Oh, come on, Sydney,” Billie mocked, taking a step forward and initiating another brutal chest-bump. The force sent a jolt through Sydney’s entire body, “I thought you’d be a little tougher than this.”
“Shut up!” Sydney screamed, lunging again.
The two women locked together, the white and black fabric melding together as their breasts compressed against one another. Their hands found each other's shoulders, gripping tightly as they tried to shove and overpower the other with their bosoms.
Between their struggling bodies, Sydney could feel the heat radiating from Billie’s skin. She could feel the suffocating pressure of a bust that was heavier than her own. It made her want to destroy it.
As Sydney jostled for dominance, she slammed her chest multiple times against Billie’s boobs.
Thump-thump-thump-thump!Billie stared downward, amusement on her face as she watched Sydney’s efforts.
This did not go unnoticed as Sydney merely grit her teeth and clawed at Billie’s tank top and bra straps, using her opponent for leverage. Blinded by rage, the blonde shoved with all her might. Then, she pulled back before shoving again.
The smirk on Billie’s face disappeared as she felt the immediate impact on her breasts. It was actually hurting her.
“Come on, bitch,” Sydney yelled out, “You think you’re the only big pair I’ve ever fought?”
SLAM!But as she moved, Sydney made a fatal error. She put everything into her series of desperate shoves. And for a split second, as she broke contact, she allowed Billie to have a sliver of a second to build her own momentum.
And that was the opening Billie needed.
Instead of meeting the shove head-on, Billie simply absorbed it by plating her feet down and thrusting her chest outward. Then, she used Sydney’s own momentum against her.
Sydney grunted as she ran into the bosomy wall before her, the titanic towers pushing her backwards.
As the blonde backed up, Billie took two heavy steps forward and then…
…SLAM!A hollow boom echoed through the studio as Sydney stumbled backwards and fell against the nearby set wall.
“Ughh!”
The blonde cried out. With her head turned sideways, Sydney did not see Billie approaching her. And before Sydney could even register the impact, Billie pressed her advantage, pushing the entire weight of her chest forward.
As their cleavages met, Billie’s colossal bosom engulfed Sydney’s.
A gasp escaped the blonde’s lips as the air was shoved out from Sydney's lungs.
“What’s the matter, Sydney?” Billie asked, a hint of amusement on her face, “I thought you were tougher than this? What happened to all those boasts about being the queen?”
Sydney tried to escape but couldn’t, as the raven haired musician yanked her wrists and pinned her against the wall. The blonde tried to shove back but it was like trying to move a mountain. She was trapped and her own prized assets were rendered completely useless.
Billie leaned in close, their faces inches apart, her breath hot on Sydney’s cheek.
“Game over, Boob Queen,” Billie whispered, the smirk on her face wider and more triumphant than ever, “Or should I say…ex-Queen?”
Sydney stared wide eyed. The arrogance in her eyes had been replaced by a flicker of panic.
Pinned. Trapped. The weight of Billie’s chest was an immense force that pressed Sydney’s own bosom flat against her ribcage. The scent of Billie’s obnoxious perfume as applied with her cleavage filled Sydney’s nostrils. The wall behind her was cold and unyielding. This was it. This was how her reign ended.
No. This would NOT be how she went!
A fire ignited within Sydney’s gut. She was THE Sydney Sweeney. She had toppled busty icons. She had conquered Hollywood and sat at the top of its hills. She would not be extinguished by some mopey, baggy-clothed pop star who had been born with a lucky pair of funbags. She was the Boobfight Queen!
“Game over?” Sydney hissed, her voice a venomous whisper. “The game doesn’t end until I say it does, you stupid black haired bitch!”
With a furious shout from the top of her lungs, Sydney fought back. Arching her back like a gymnast, she flexed every muscle in her torso. She drove her hips and chest forward, pushing off the wall with her legs. The underwire of her bra bit into her ribs as the fabric strained, causing her to grunt out in pain.
But the effect was immediate.
Sydney’s bosom, compressed and contained, surged upwards and outwards. The cups of her bra, already full, overflowed as the flesh was violently displaced within the bra. Her cleavage became like two wrecking balls aimed at Billie’s chest.
She slammed herself directly into her opponent.
Billie Eilish yowled, her eyes widening in surprise as she was momentarily pushed back by an inch. It hadn’t been much but it was enough.
“You have no idea who you’re messing with, Billie,” Sydney snarled, ramming her chest forward again and again. Her breasts, half-spilling from her bra, began jiggling aggressively. As much as it hurt her, she ignored the pain, knowing that it had hurt Billie just as much, “You’re simply delaying the inevitable!”
“Sh-shit,” Billie cried out, surprised at the retaliation. She met Sydney’s thrusts with her own. And the two became locked in a brutal stalemate, their bosoms mashing together in a ferocious rhythm.
With a sudden, violent tug, Sydney yanked her arms free from Billie’s grasp. As she did so, her fingertips clawed at Billie’s tank top, hoping to tear her opponent’s titflesh in the process.
Amidst this, there was a sharp snap as one of the thin straps gave way. The black fabric sagged and the upper swell of Billie’s left breast spilled free, heavy and pale as it jiggled amidst the struggle. The other strap slipped to the side, as well, revealing more of Billie’s breasts and her black bra.
“Whoops,” Sydney taunted, an arrogant smirk forming across her face.
For a moment, Sydney felt a surge of triumph. She pushed on, trying to tear her opponent’s clothing off. Without her clothing, the blonde knew her rival was going to be nothing more than a useless cow.
But Billie merely growled. And then, she shoved back even harder. Her nearly freed breasts slapped against Sydney’s chest with a wet-sounding smack. The unrestrained weight of her bosom was staggering and caught the blonde off guard. In response, Sydney brought her knee up but Billie blocked it with her forearm and pushed it to the side.
Thinking fast, Sydney planted one foot firmly on the wall and tried to grab Billie and drag her downward.
It partially worked as Billie pushed off and stumbled back, gasping for air. But unfortunately for Sydney, Billie’s fingers had reached around Sydney’s shoulders around the collar of her white t-shirt. And as Billie staggered backward, she didn’t let go.
RIIIIP!
The sound was like a torn sheet of paper.
Sydney’s entire world froze. The front of her low-cut t-shirt tore straight open, from the neckline down to her navel. The white fabric hung like rags on opposite ends of her torso.
And revealed before the world, or at the least Billie, was her secret.
A padded push-up bra.
Billie stopped. An amused smirk spread across her lips.
“Wow, Sweeney. That’s just, like, really sad,” Billie remarked. Her eyes flicked down from Sydney’s face to the exposed bra and then, right back up, “And quite frankly, downright pathetic.”
A crimson blush flooded Sydney’s face. Instinctively, her hands flew up to cover her body. The prior fire in her eyes quickly vanished, replaced by panicked horror. The padding had created a perfect and competitive fullness that was now laid bare as an utter fraud.
Billie took a step forward, her smirk widening as Sydney backed away defensively. A low snicker escaped her lips.
“Like seriously,” Billie chided, the laugh growing in her voice as she shook her head. Her own bosom shook mockingly with her movement, as well. “A push-up bra? All that talking and boasting. And you had to cheat just to try and keep up with me?”
Sydney stumbled, her boots scraping against the floor as she backed up.
Billie’s chuckling continued. Then, the musician slowly hooked her thumbs under the straps of her damaged tank top. With a dramatic shrug, she let them slide down her shoulders.
The tank top sagged forth, revealing a simple black bra that was not at all padded so much as a thin layer that burst at the seams with the colossal bosom it was tasked with containing.
“See this, Sydney?” Billie purred, her voice dripping with condescension. The musician bent forward, lowering her body as she showed off her cleavage before standing straight back up, cupping her full bosom, “This is what real looks like. This is what you’ve been trying to fake up against this whole time.”
As an insult, Billie shook her shoulders at Sydney. From behind her bra, her breasts undulated with a heavy, hypnotic motion.
Before Sydney could even process the threat, Billie surged forward.
The impact was a brutal, punishing thud. Billie’s chest slammed directly into Sydney’s padded bust. Despite the padding in her bra absorbing some of the shock, the air exploded from Sydney’s lungs in a pained gasp and sent her stumbling back.
“Come on, Queen!” Billie taunted, relentlessly pressing her attack.
SLAM! Another chest-bump, only harder this time. Sydney’s head snapped back.
“Is all that padding getting in the way?”
SLAM! Billie drove against her again, as Sydney stared wide eyed.
“Fuck you!” Sydney shrieked, finding a surge of adrenaline as she fought back. The blonde attempted to claw and scratch at Billie’s arms, seeking leverage. She shoved forward with her own pair, the padded bra giving her a firm point of impact.
But even as she managed to land a solid shove that made Billie grunt and take a half-step backwards, Sydney could only recoil each time her bosom made contact.
For a moment, there was a flicker of hope. But it was just a flicker.
As Billie was slapped across the face, her jet black hair swinging wildly with her, she simply turned back with a sneering smile around her cheeks.
“Okay, not bad,” Billie stated, her eyes narrowing as she held her slapped cheek, “But my turn now.”
Billie changed her tactics.
Instead of a direct assault, Billie dropped her body slightly. Then, grabbing onto Sydney’s arms with a tight grasp, she drove upwards using the heavy, pendulous weight of her breasts like an uppercut. The attack was aimed not at the center of Sydney’s boobs in its entirety but rather, at the underside of her bra.
The effect was devastating. The push-up bra had been designed to lift from the bottom so as to enhance Sydney’s booby mass. But Billie’s attack exploited that design and turned it into a weapon against its wearer. The first upward slam jolted Sydney’s breasts violently, shoving them against the top rim of the padded cups.
“Nngh!” Sydney grunted, trying to readjust her body so that she could keep her tits from falling out.
But Sydney could not move as she struggled to release her arms.
Meanwhile, Billie was relentless. She moved in closer, grabbing fistfuls of Sydney’s blonde hair and yanking her head down as she continued the upward assault with her bosom.
“Fuck,” the blonde cried out.
“Bet those things sag like an old woman’s,” Billie taunted, “That’s why you have to wear that push up bra.”
Sydney pulled back just as hard, screaming in frustration as she attempted to fire back. But as their bosoms continued to collide, Sydney was unable to effectively counter the attacks from below.
Billie was simply bigger and stronger. Her mass was too much. Each upward shove from Billie’s chest quickly became more effective than the last.
Sydney could feel her own breasts being inexorably forced up and out of their padded prison. A tiny bit of spillage at first. Then, more and more flesh began spilling out. The bra was failing and its illusion shattered with every punishing impact.
With a final and triumphant roar, Billie gave one last colossal shove. She inhaled a breath and exhaled as she shot up. Her mighty pair slammed upwards into Sydney in one heaving motion all while Billie used her grip on Sydney's hair to wrench her downwards.
Sydney’s bra could not protect her anymore. Her breasts, squeezed and forced upwards, popped out over the top of the useless top. The push-up bra now sat defeated beneath the tits before slipping downwards across the ribs, causing Sydney’s breasts to dangle awkwardly.
“Had enough yet, grandma?” Billie whispered, her voice laced with venom. “Or do you want me to really show you the difference between us?”
They were face-to-face again, panting.
“Fuck you, Eilish, I’ll prove to you that I’m still the Queen!” Sydney screamed. In truth, Sydney had nothing left to lose and fought like it.
With a feral cry, Sydney lunged forward with her hands. Her clawed fingers went straight for the source of her humiliation, aiming to grab and punish Billie’s triumphant bosom. No doubt, the blonde would make Billie pay. She would prove that those oversized orbs were nothing but a weakness that prevented Billie from competing with her.
The blonde’s hands made contact. Her fingers sank into the soft, heavy flesh.
“Ahhhh, what the hell? Let go of me, you creep!” Billie yelled out, a flash of genuine shock and pain resounding across her face as Sydney’s nails dug in.
But in that same instant, Sydney struggled. Her grip was strong and fierce.…BUT she just couldn’t quite get a full grasp. It was like trying to grab a whole pillow or trying to palm an entire basketball. Her palms and fingers simply couldn’t encompass the sheer volume that was Billie Eilish’s tits.
“Fuck, you fucking cow,” Sydney cried out.
Sydney squeezed with all her might. But her grip felt pathetic and her attack was rendered impotent by the sheer scale of her target.
“You wanna play that way?” Billie growled, her shock quickly morphing into cold fury, “Fine! Let’s play, bitch!”
Before Sydney could back off and retreat, Billie’s hands mirrored her attack. They shot out and latched onto Sydney’s exposed titties. Billie’s hands, however, had no such problem like Sydney did. Her grip was firm and tightly punishing.
A choked cry tore from Sydney’s throat as Billie squeezed, hard. The pain was sharp. The push up bra could no longer protect her, as it slid further down her torso.
“How’s that feel, Sydney?” Billie taunted, her face inches from Sydney’s. “Does it hurt when someone touches those little things? Oh, but I’m much bigger so I don’t get hurt as easily.”
“You’re nothing compared to me,” Sydney spat out, “I’m going to beat you and end your sad little career!”
The two’s fingers went towards their bosoms and at random spurts, their arms and shoulders, as well.
But as they grappled, Billie’s attack moved downwards. While one hand maintained its cruel grip on Sydney’s breast, the other snaked downwards and hooked into the waistband of Sydney’s khaki shorts.
With a single, vicious yank, the shorts were pulled down Sydney’s legs and caused her to lose her footing as it pooled in a defeated heap around her ankles. All that remained was a flimsy white thong, leaving Sydney almost completely exposed.
Humiliation burned hot on her face but the blonde could not move to protect her body. But through sheer willpower, Sydney fought back.
While Billie was focused on tearing her shorts, Sydney’s free hand shot around Billie’s back, her fingers scrabbling desperately for the clasp of her rival’s bra. She could feel it, the small hooks and eyes. The only thing holding back the massive monstrosity. If she could release it, maybe she could distract Billie enough to knock her out.
And as Sydney pulled, tugged, and twisted….the immense pressure from Billie's own bosom straining against the bra combined with Sydney's frantic pulling, became too much.
With a sharp
SNAP that was louder than their pained grunts, the back of the black bra sprang open. The tension was released instantly. The straps on Billie’s shoulders went slack. And then, suddenly, the entire garment was now held in place only by the sheer weight of the breasts it failed to contain.
“I got you, bitch,” Sydney gloated.
A metallic ping of the claps falling to the floor followed by a satisfying release.
A wave of pure, unadulterated triumph washed over Sydney. She had done it. Billie was gasping, off-guard, her hands instinctively fluttering towards her own chest as her bra came undone.
Now! Now was the time to strike.
The plan formed in Sydney’s mind with lightning speed. A brutal tit shove to send the bitch reeling, to show her what a real battle-hardened bosom felt like. Then, the follow-up would come after. Those boxing lessons for her last movie role weren’t just for show. She’d move in and beat the living shit out of this emo wannabe, break her down by using those tits as speed bags, and send her crying back to her recording studio.
This was it. Her comeback. Her reclamation of the throne. She was Sydney Sweeney, the Boobfight Queen, the conqueror! Her fists coiled while her body tensed, ready to launch the final assault.
…except it was a big fucking mistake.
The black bra slid like a silk curtain falling away from a monument, the fabric glided down Billie’s torso before falling to the floor. And then the twins were unleashed.
Two magnificent, colossal orbs of flesh.
Heavy and impossibly round, they settled with a weight that seemed to possess their own gravitational pull. No longer constrained, they instead seemed to jut outward and claim the very space around them. They were monstrous monster boobies. And they were hungry for the woman who had suddenly assaulted them.
Billie didn't even try to cover up. She didn't flinch. Instead, she looked down at her own chest, a moment of quiet assessment passing over her features. The surprise on her face melted away, replaced by a smirk. She had just been handed her ultimate weapons.
The triumphant roar died in Sydney’s throat. Her fists suddenly and slowly went slack at her sides. Her entire plan and her righteous fury evaporated in an instant. She was frozen.
“You seriously thought that little piece of fabric was holding me back?” Billie purred, as she slowly moved forward, her unleashed bosom swaying with terrifying momentum. “All you did was let the real monsters out to play.”
The monstrosity before her was a paralyzing but hypnotic spectacle for Sydney. Her brain short-circuited, leaving her in a semi-state of shock. It was like being caught in a dream as she was uncertain of what to do.
The blonde’s arm twitched. With a strangled shout that was more a gasp than a war cry, Sydney finally threw a jab. It was a clumsy, telegraphed punch aimed at Billie’s smirking face.
Billie simply swayed her torso to the side, letting the punch sail harmlessly past her ear. Her own bosom swung like a wrecking ball on a chain.
“What, did you forget your lines, Sydney?” Billie taunted, her voice low and mocking. “This isn’t one of your movies. The blonde bimbo doesn’t always win in the end.”
Desperate, Sydney threw a wild right hook. It was even more pathetic than the first punch. Billie didn’t even have to move this time. She simply took a half-step back with a grin on her face and Sydney’s other fist swiped at empty air, her wobbling tits throwing her off balance.
With a guttural yell that was more fear than fury, the blonde lunged again, snapping a perfect, movie-ready punch.
But it missed by a foot, with Sydney’s quivering bosom throwing her off balance. Clearly, this was not the movies and she was not in some hefty sports bra with a choreographed opponent.
Seeing her chance, Billie moved in. But she didn’t raise her fists. She lowered her stance, her knees bent, and her entire upper body became a weapon.
“Let me show you how a real woman fights,” Billie growled, as she shifted her body with a dancer’s grace, “Not some fake like you.”
Sydney’s voice choked as Billie Eilish pressed up against her.
And then the assault began. Though it was similar, it wasn’t boxing. Instead, it was far more humiliating. It was tit boxing.
THWAP!Billie jabbed forward with her right breast. It was a quick strike that slapped hard against Sydney’s own boob. Sydney grunted, stumbling back.
THWAP!The left breast followed, just as fast but even more punishing as it struck Sydney when she had been turned..
“Come on, Queen!” Billie sneered, “What’s the matter?”
THUD!The black haired pop star followed the bosomy jabs with a heavy double-breasted slam that drove the air from Sydney’s lungs and rattled her ribs. Sydney’s own breasts took the brunt of the impact, compressing as they met Billie’s pair.
WHUMP!Billie put her entire body weight behind her as she jumped forward with a full-bodied lunge. Her massive unrestrained bosom slammed into Sydney’s chest with a sickening force. It was like a car crash in slow motion.
The impact sent the topless blonde flying backwards, her feet tangling in her khaki shorts while her hair flew wildly. As she lost her footing, the screaming Sydney crashed onto the floor in a heap of torn clothing and shattered pride.
A sob escaped her lips. Sydney tried to get up as Billie closed in but slipped and fell on her rear end, once more. The pain was excruciating. Her chest ached with a deep, throbbing agony that she had never ever felt before. She had been reduced to a schoolgirl beaten at the playground. It felt like her entire identity had been bruised and battered.
“Aww, do I need to go get mommy, for you?” Billie taunted, “Because clearly I’m fighting someone with little girl boobs and not a woman’s pair.”
Sydney’s hands flew to her breasts, cradling her bruised and battered tits. But as Billie took a step closer, Sydney refused to quit.
“I’m n-no-not done y-yet…” Sydney stated, in between sobs. Even in her state, the proud Queen refused to surrender her kingdom. Pushing through the agony, she planted a hand on the floor and tried to get up.
“So be it, then, Queen,” Billie sighed, her emphasis on the word ‘Queen’ carrying a hint of sarcasm.
With fury in her voice, Sydney pushed herself up from the floor. Tears flowed from her eyes as she grit her teeth. Her body screamed in protest while her chest throbbed. But she refused to give in.
“I am Sydney fucking Sweeny!” the blonde roared, her voice cracking as she launched herself at Billie one last time.
It was a final and desperate gambit to use her own legendary assets to reclaim her glory as Sydney slammed into Billie with a series of frantic, thudding impacts. For a brief moment, Billie grunted as she took a few half-steps back.
“I’m the Queen of Boobs,” Sydney declared, as she slammed her big perky boobs against Billie’s massive milkers, “I’m Hollywood’s Boobfight Queen!”
One shove after another, Sydney pushed with all her might. She pressed forth like she did with Scarlett Johansson. She aimed with precision like how she did when she broke Jennifer Lawrence. She swung from side to side like she had with Kate Upton. She pressed both breasts together like she did when she beat Kat Dennings.
But it was like waves crashing against cliff walls. The initial impact was absorbed and then the waves dissipated after.
“Was that all?” Billie asked, an amused smirk returning to her lips.
“W-wh-what?”
Sydney shook in fear. Whatever attempts she had made were rendered futile. Her body began to involuntarily choke. The impact she once had was now gone. She simply stared down at the pair in front of her. It wasn’t her own.
In fact, Sydney’s own pair had since disappeared. Her very bosom, once the undisputed champion of Hollywood, was being consumed by Billie’s larger pair.
“H-how?!”
The larger, heavier mass of Billie’s chest slowly enveloped her boobs. With tears in her eyes, Sydney watched as the frantic bouncing of her breasts were compressed, flattened, and reshaped against her chest.
“It, it’s not fair,” Sydney stated.
As the blonde’s boobs failed, Billie leaned in with her smile and sleepy, bored looking eyes.
“You feel that, Syd?” Billie asked with a whisper as she shifted her weight, “That’s called the end of your reign.”
The sobbing Sydney suddenly felt a sharp pressure against the most sensitive part of her breasts. Billie’s nipples were probing her, in an attempt to duel her nipples. Eventually, they reached her areola and the fully erect nipples of Billie Eilish punched into her bosom. The subtle movement sent a jolt of pain throughout her body as her entire bosom shook and quivered from the needle-like impact.
It was over.
Billie’s younger and bigger rack had won.
As she watched, Sydney’s mind could only register one thing:
Run.The blonde’s body acted before her mind could fully process the command. Panicked and sobbing, she twisted out of Billie’s grasp and turned to flee. She scrambled. Her bare feet slipping, her vision blurred by tears, her only thoughts being to escape this nightmare.
But she took two clumsy steps before she felt something grab her.
“Oh, I forgot. One last thing,” Billie stated.
Billie’s hand shot out and snagged the thin strap of her thong. The fabric strained along Sydney’s hips and buttocks as all of her momentum was cancelled. Then, she was yanked backward, a choked gasp escaping her lips.
With a final tug, the thin fabric snapped.
Sydney stumbled forward and crashed to the floor onto all fours.
With her rival on her knees, Billie grabbed a fistful of Sydney’s blonde hair and yanked her upwards.
The blonde cried out, her head snapping back as she was forced onto her feet.
“Look at you,” Billie sneered, her face just inches from Sydney’s tear-streaked cheeks.
SLAP!The sound echoed in the silent studio as Sydney’s head was whipped to the side with Billie’s palm, a red handprint already forming on her skin.
“Nothing but a fraud,” Billie insulted Sydney.
SLAP!Another sharp slap, on her other cheek.
“All that arrogance and nothing to show for it,” Billie stated, as she sized Sydney up and down.
“I-I’m s-s-sorry,” Sydney stated.
SLAP!“Silence!” Billie shouted, “Who gave you permission to speak to the Queen?”
Sydney whimpered.
And then, Billie stepped forth, pressing her massive mammaries into Sydney’s face. The blonde’s back hit the set wall again as her face was engulfed in a wall of warm and soft bosomy flesh of the black haired songstress. Sydney’s arms flailed uselessly at her sides as her world disappeared behind the weight of Billie’s bust. As she stared into the bosomy abyss, tears streamed freely down her cheeks and dripped across the tits that encompassed her face.
Still, Billie pulled back just enough for Sydney to take a breath of air.
“Now,” Billie commanded, her voice a low purr, “Say it. Call me the Boob Queen.”
Sydney choked on a sob, shaking her head weakly. The humiliation was too much. But Billie just scoffed, a look of disappointment on her face.
“No? I guess you haven’t had enough, just yet,” Billie decided, a cruel smirk playing on her lips, “You were the ‘Boob Queen.’ But you know what? That’s fine. That’s just a silly title for has-beens and second-place losers. I’m on a completely different level.”
Billie leaned in again, her boobs smothering Sydney’s face.
“How about you worship me as the Boob Goddess?” Billie posed, her chest shaking from side to side as she motorboated Sydney, “That’s the new order of things around here. The Boob Queen submits before the Boob Goddess. Is that understood?”
With that, Billie released her grip on Sydney’s hair. The blonde slid down the wall as she gasped and choked on her own sobs, her body trembling uncontrollably.
Billie watched Sydney slide, unimpressed by the pathetic display before her.
“Say it,” Billie stated coldly, before stepping forward and pressing her bosom down onto Sydney’s face once more. “Worship me!”
Sydney’s muffled voice finally squeaked out from beneath the flesh.
“You, mppffh, you are, mphff, the Boob Goddess, mpfff. I, uhgh, submit to y…”
But Billie did not have time to hear out any lesser women beneath her. She simply shoved and smothered Sydney without hesitance, choking her.
And then, for Sydney, everything faded to black.
******************************************************************************
A few weeks later.
The world had moved on. But for Sydney Sweeney, her world had just ended.
Curtains were drawn, the endless texts had gone ignored, and her wardrobe now consisted of an oversized hoodie that swallowed her entire figure.
As the television set played a song, Sydney could hear it. The world premiere for the music video for "B00B5" by Billie Eilish.
Sydney’s hand hovered over her mouth, unable to press the buttons on the remote out of shock.
The video opened on a familiar sight. A blonde bombshell in a shimmering silver gown, posing for the cameras on a red carpet. The wig was perfect, the makeup flawless, the demeanor unmistakable. Only she had a circlet crown on her head.
This woman was, in fact, a parody of Sydney at the gala.
Then, the music started. Its dark pulsating beat filled the penthouse.
On screen, the “Sydney” clone’s smile faltered. She looked down at her own chest. And then, she looked at the camera with disgust.
With a violent rip, she tore the blonde wig from her head, revealing the jet-black hair beneath.
The silver dress was torn away next, shredded to reveal the simple black tank top and shorts from the studio.
It was Billie Eilish, shedding the queen’s skin as she tossed the crown to the side.
Sydney felt a cold knot tighten in her stomach.
And then, the footage appeared, superimposed over the epic CGI backdrop that had once been nothing but greenscreens.
It was them. The entire fight had been filmed.
The world saw Sydney’s arrogant gloating. They saw her push-up bra being revealed. They saw her shorts being torn away. They saw Billie dodging her punches. And they saw her bosom being battered, left and right, by Billie’s bigger pair.
Sydney gasped as she relived the scene.
The music grew louder. Billie’s breathy, taunting voice lorded over the scene.
"Bee-Zero-Zero-Bee-Five...
You think you know me, read between the lines,
You truly wanna compare yours to mine?"On the screen, Sydney’s digital self finally choked out the words of submission, in between sobs.
In her penthouse, the real Sydney wrapped her arms around her pillow, covering her chest as she relived the final, crushing moment. She could feel Billie’s bosom, even now. Suffocating her. Choking her. Ending her.
"It's just my body, is it not what you wanted?
Bee-Zero-Zero-Bee-Five..."
The final shot of the video was a close-up of Billie’s face with the words “The Boob Goddess” before the camera panned down to her cleavage, cutting just before we see her fully naked bosom with “
B00B5” covering her nipples.
Then, the screen went black.
