Hi,
I just discovered that these old stories of mine are no longer on these boards so I thought I'd repost with some minor changes (and some 3D art to help the reader step into my head), I'll probably add some more art in the future. All comments welcome.
"Double Trouble"
Hours of sweat soaked labour in the gym had earned 19 year old Tara a body that had jealous girls all over the Special Forces Training Base slapping the faces of their drooling boyfriends. Her curvy, toned, fitness-model body accented by a non-existent waistline scored her a few of those drools. If that didn't get your attention, Tara's prominent, unyielding, skirt-shortening rear was sure to spellbind you into virtual fantasy land. In reality though, male or female, your mouth would always drop when you saw Tara largely due to her … erm large assets. In fact there wasn't a single female on the base who, when stood next to the exclusive 5'6" 36DDD superbusty figure of the raven haired girl, hadn't been intimidated into feeling like an insecure schoolgirl in a wonderbra.
Needless to say, the girls hated her, so much so that one day while Tara was in the locker room showers, they drenched her clothes in ice cold water and tied her bra to a clothes hook. Tara returned to find her outfit soaked, her silver thong carved to shreds and her matching bra dangling down in front of her. The girls had taken the liberty to pound the crap out of two large melons and stuff them in her whopping 40DD bra cups. "Next time they'll be your melons we pound, SLUT" read a note attached.
A week later Tara emerged from the shower once more. Approaching her locker, she noticed her sports bag emptied and on the floor. Looking up she saw two girls raiding her locker. Having spent an entire day without bra and knickers the week before, Tara was quite curious as to which girls she now had a vendetta with.
"She must have hidden her bra after last time", laughed Tasha, one of the girls rummaging through her stuff.
"Yeah, she always hangs them up", stated Jo, the other.
"Maybe the slut's not wearing a bra", retorted Tasha as they both broke into childish giggles.
After a quick assessment of the two slutty dressed girls, Tara decided to spoil the party.
"Looking for something?" she questioned.
Instantly startled, both girls froze in their tracks as they directed their attention to a dripping wet Tara. Astonishingly, the brazen vixen allowed her towel to drop shamelessly to her feet. The girls' search had come to an end as Tara stood cockily with her hands on her hips clad in just a tight, foxy pair of shiny silver nylon hotpants and a matching shiny silver nylon, micro-triangle string-bikini top.
"I'm guessing you want this?", Tara quizzed as she pointed to her glistening, minimal coverage bikini top whose stretched one-inch triangles were just enough to maintain Tara's fragile modesty.
The girls remained silent and just looked at each other, forced into concealing their inadequacies having just witnessed Tara's majestic 40DD breasts that were covered almost symbolically by a pair of tiny silver nylon triangles that looked like two steel bullets were about to burst through them.
"I reckon between the two of you, you might just about be able to fill it", Tara taunted as she brought her fingertip to rest upon a gleaming nylon covered nipple.
The nearest girl, a relatively busty eighteen year old brunette with blonde highlights called Tasha, looked a bit agitated by Tara's sharp-witted comments.
"Ha! you call that a bra, it looks more like a shoelace to me. Not that it'll make much difference once I rip it of your chest", Tasha countered.
She began to advance towards Tara. Sensing her friend's intentions, the petite black-haired Jo moved round to try and team up on Tara from the right. Tara kept her dark emerald-green eyes focused solely on Tasha. Years of tennis, running and after school fights meant the teenager's 5'2" 115lbs voluptuous frame was not to be underestimated. Tara moved forward down the aisle to greet Tasha. Anticipating some kind of breast attack (her opponents were so predictable), Tara grabbed hold of Tasha's hands and the two of them engaged in a power struggle. Almost immediately Tara had forced Tasha onto her knees but it was at that point that Tara felt the 95lbs 5'3" Jo jump onto her back and wrap her arms around her neck. Tara remained persistent in maintaining her tight grip on Tasha's wrists as the buxom brunette was ferociously trying to punch and claw at Tara's breasts.
"Undo her top Jo, undo the neck strap!" Tasha gasped.
Jo wrapped her legs tightly around Tara's waist to give her more support as she manoeuvred her arms around to Tara's back where she started to untie the neck strap of Tara's custom made bikini top. Still occupied with Tasha, Tara had to ignore Joanna's attempts to remove her two square inches of dignity. Another thwarted swipe at her breasts by Tasha and Tara's heart rate increased as she felt her bra loosen. Luckily, Tara had double knotted her neck strap and Jo had only managed to untie the first knot. With options running out, Tara let go of Tasha's left hand, freeing her right. With a swift motion, Tara cocked her arm back with the fury of a punch and caught Jo hard in the cheek with her elbow. Jo fell back instantly and as her legs lost their grip around Tara's waist, she slumped to the ground somewhat dazed. The next thing Tara felt was a stinging blow to her right tit. With her left hand still free, Tasha latched her thumb and forefinger onto the triangular nylon patch that was now entirely stretched taut over Tara's permanently erect bullet shaped nipple. Squeezing with all her arm strength, Tasha seized the upper hand in her tussle with Tara as she induced her tit-torture technique to the now humourless busty officer. Tara instinctively responded, lashing out with a powerful hook to Tasha's left cheek. The shiny drenched nylon patch offer no grip to Tasha's pinch and as Tasha hit the deck, Tara felt her rigid nipple guard pull away from her nipple before snapping back perfectly into place. Unfortunately for Tasha, the back of her head collided rather loudly with the marble floor and she lay on the ground slightly concussed.
Tara smiled as she looked down at her sexy top. She had spent most of her teenage years walking around without a bra as no shops stocked a bra that would fit her "prematurely mature" figure. Fed up with having her perpetually erect, bullet-like nipples slice through any top she wore, she took to designing and making her own underwear. She loved using nylon due to its immeasurable ability to lock her colossal chest, nipples included, firmly in place.
Her choice did not let her down and with her dignity still in tact, Tara looked down at the fallen Tasha. Tasha moaned softly on the floor, her head still spinning from its collision with the marble floor. Tara turned around to see Jo in a state and remembered to retie her neck-strap. Determined to teach them both a lesson, she removed Jo of all her clothes and hog tied her with her own bra. To cap it off, she stuffed her white cotton panties into her mouth before dumping her in the communal shower room and running one of them on cold. As she approached Tasha, the little hellcat bounced of the ground went in for low tackle on Tara. Tara, taken by surprise, didn't have time to prevent the spirited bitch from plunging her head into Tara's concrete stomach. As Tara flew back, Tasha embraced Tara's calves. Tara's soaking wet feet didn't even think about cleaving to the wet marble floor underneath her and in a flash, Tara felt her illustrious ass being painstakingly introduced to the bitterly cold hard marble floor. The surprisingly smart teenager moved her arms up to Tara's feet and grasped Tara around the ankles. Tara was shocked back into reality when she felt the strength of Tasha's grip. Fearing Tasha might attempt to spread her legs and boot-kick her crotch, Tara reacted at once with a training manoeuvre she rarely taught in her street brawling classes. Moving her left hand down to cover her womanhood, she then clamped her thighs together before stretching her legs out as far as possible to maximize the distance between her and her aggressor's torso. Unfortunately for the sharp officer, her plan backfired and after a brief pause where the two brawlers made malicious eye contact with each other down the plane of Tara's defined, taut, immaculate legs, Tasha decided to push further with her advantage over her senior.
"Look at you, all hot and sweaty on the floor like that Tara, I think you need a cold shower, don't you? You dirty bitch!" taunted Tasha as she began to drag Tara's flattened ass down the aisle by her compromised legs.
Tara had every reason to panic given the lack of control she now had over her own body. Moving to protect her head and back, she leaned forward in a semi sit up position in what was an abdominal straining manoeuvre. With Tara's upper body now slightly raised and her legs in Tasha's control, the only thing actually sliding across the floor was Tara's sore ass.
So far, Tara's shrewd fabric choice for her top had managed to detain her volatile dignity. Unfortunately, Tara's soapy, waterlogged, shiny silver nylon hotpants that were effectively shrunk wrap around her firm reputable arse seemed to glide effortlessly across the cold marble floor.
Tasha decided she was going to take full advantage of Tara's frictionless hotpants and she started to pick up the pace as she dragged Tara down the aisle towards the communal showers. Tara contemplated kicking out violently but the clear view of Tasha's menacing shiny leather knee-high boots put her off that idea. The strategic teenager would have certainly attempted to take advantage of Tara's flailing legs by planting a firm heel into her vulnerable crotch and given Tasha's tennis-enhanced grip, it was more probable that Tara's flailing legs would done no more than amuse the agile 18 year old.
Without any opposition, Tasha had managed to drag Tara into the communal shower room maintaining her dominant position over the clammy officer. Ignoring the muffled screams of her ill-treated friend, she began to swing Tara around the open flooded floor like a handheld lawnmower. Shrieking out a sexual grunt that was reminiscent of a female tennis player, Tasha sadistically swung Tara into the nearest wall. Tara felt her side crash into the cold tiled wall as her upper body fell back to a complete horizontal position, unable to maintain her sit-up position. Tasha did not let up, gliding Tara across the open marble floor till she met with another solid wall. Tasha's bellowed grunt was followed almost immediately by a loud "oomph" by Tara, the two voices separated only by the sound of Tara's hotpants skimming rapidly over the waterlogged surface. Sensing that Tasha was on to a good thing, Tara latched her hands onto the hems of her shorts and pulled herself back up into her original sit-up position bracing herself for the next sortie into the shower walls. Tasha swung Tara round 180 degrees into the centre of the floor. Tara then found herself moving backwards at a very fast rate as Tasha started to drive her into the wall, treating Tara like a human wheelbarrow. A split second before the back of Tara's head crashed into the marble tiles, Tara let go of her shorts and wrapped her hands around the back of her head. Pulling herself up 90 degrees, Tara avoided a potential knockout blow as her back crashed into the cold wall.
"Forty-Love Bitch!!" smiled Tasha as she continued to push on Tara's ankles, sending her legs into a vertical position, bending Tara over completely in the process.
Winded and slightly dazed, Tara struggled to breathe as her stiff legs began squeezing against her defiant breasts. In a swift move, Tasha briefly let go of Tara's ankles and rammed her left forearm into Tara's open calves, trapping them against the wall in the process. Tara felt the cold steel of the wall-mounted piping on the top of her stretched feet. Moving to the side slightly, Tasha used her free right hand to yank the cold water lever over to its maximum opening position. Tara almost went into shock as a fierce jet of freezing cold water began to administer a spanking to her coiled ass. Clinically, Tasha manoeuvred her hands back around Tara's sore ankles and pulled her legs down slightly allowing the jet to fall upon Tara's crotch. Tara gasped out loudly as her womanhood received the same treatment as her nylon covered hind. On seeing the look of horror on Tara's face, Tasha stiffened her arms to try and keep Tara in the same position. Tara managed to slide down onto her back, relieving her tormented state briefly as she felt her prostrated ass shifting into the leather bound toecaps of Tasha's knee-high boots. Flat on her back with the top of her head being pushed against the wall, Tara's firm 36DDD breasts pointed directly upwards, challenging the battering downpour of ice-cold water. Freezing cold water rained down on Tara's tough marginally covered breasts, bouncing off into her eyes, nose and mouth virtually immobilizing the dark-haired woman. The effect of the cold water gave Tara an uncomfortable feeling as her contracting nylon patches struggled to contain her endlessly erecting nipples. Tara rushed her hands towards her suffering breasts in an attempt to limit her suffering. Seeing Tara in such a defenceless state prompted Tasha to start pulling apart her weakened legs with a cocky smile on her face. On feeling her thighs separate, Tara abandoned the idea of covering her breasts with her flailing arms as her cupped hands dived low and protecting her crotch.
"On your back and refusing to spread your legs! That must be a first Tara." Tasha joked before bellowing out another incredibly suggestive grunt as she finally managed to prise apart Tara's legs.
Tara braced herself as Tasha's boot came crashing down her cupped hands, forcing her knuckles painfully into her crotch. Tara tapped in on her formidable mental attributes, creating a picture of Tasha's foot in her mind, poised to strike, half a meter above her exposed crotch. Imagining Tasha's foot accelerating through the air, she timed her catch to perfection as she clasped her hands around Tasha's foot as they merged together to clout her crotch.
For any other female on the base, the fight would have been over at this point and after considering the forthcoming weeks of painful celibacy, they would have undoubtedly pondered getting a new bra to replace the one that was about to be ripped of their chest. Unfortunately for Tasha, this was not just any other female on the base. This was Tara, a woman whose finely tuned machine of a body was able to shake off the blow in an instant. Almost instinctively Tara tightened her grip on Tasha's left foot and thrust her hands up into the air. As a result of Tara's immeasurable might, Tasha felt herself get launched into the air before her arse came crashing down onto the unforgiving marble floor with a sickening thud.
Tara dived onto Tasha's front, giving her something to shriek about as she placed a perfectly aimed knee to the crotch before coming to kneel between Tasha's spread legs. Tara waited for Tasha's predictable hands to rush to her crotch before catching both her wrists. Letting herself fall forwards, she pinned Tasha's arms to the ground as her sopping wet breasts came to rest on Tasha's face. The extra four inches that Tara had over Tasha was just enough to allow the revenge-seeking officer to relentlessly thrust her knee into Tasha's crotch. It wasn't long before Tasha's initial muffled protests turned into resigning moans before digressing into humiliating sobs and whimpers. Raising her chest up off Tasha's face, Tara sat herself up on Tasha's tender stomach. Tasha's tight white T-Shirt was now slightly wet and her breasts had started to become visible through the thin cotton. Tara began to beat down on the girl's tender orbs with all her might, smacking the youngster's tit-flesh so hard, high pitched slapping noises were being repeatedly bounced of the walls that confined these two combatants. Reaching down into Tasha's khaki pants, Tara grabbed onto the front of Tasha's cotton thong and yanked it up as hard as she could. The pain of her knickers further aggravating her totally beaten womanhood was more than the feisty teenager could handle but her screams were muffled into silence as Tara lowered her 36DDD breasts onto Tasha. Totally breast-smothered, Tasha passed out in the most humiliating manner. Tara gave Tasha's knickers one last tug, shredding the garment in such a way that strands of Tasha's knickers would later have to be removed from her abused crotch by the base medic. Deciding that her work was done with this bitch, Tara stood up, placed her hands on her hips and gazed down admiring her work.
Turning around, Tara caught sight of a buck naked body with the proportions of a 17 year old schoolgirl, standing in front of her. After recognizing her as the bruised and bloodied Jo that she had dealt with earlier, Tara felt an insignificant fist bury itself into her left breast before bouncing harmlessly off the resilient orb. Tara didn't even flinch as she stood there with her hands cockily still on her hips. The 95 lbs dark-haired girl repeated her attack. This time, her fist bounced off with such a force, Jo had to take a step back to regain her balance. Amused, Tara raised an eyebrow at the petite girl who then let out a frustrated scream. With a renewed zest, the outmatched Jo began peppering Tara's breasts with her flailing fists. Jo's fists bounced off Tara's heavy-duty breasts like they were pin-balls as an unfazed Tara advanced in on her aggressor. Continuing to send blow after blow into Tara's chest, Jo found herself being bullied back into the wall as Tara continued to advance on Jo step by step, confidently, with her hands still on her hips. As soon as Jo felt her back hit the wall, she lashed out with a menacing kick between Tara's legs. Jo felt her right shin connect solidly with Tara's groin before hearing the meaty thud emitted by the blow. An unknowing silence followed as Jo froze in her tracks, eagerly anticipating Tara to collapse in a heap. Unexpectedly, Tara began shaking her head and waving her finger at the startled teenager.
"No, No, No little girl, mummy's gonna have to teach you a lesson", she whispered softly into the petrified teenager's ear.
Pulling Jo's arms apart, she thrust her superior 36DDD melons into Jo's quaint 30B chest. The little gap there was between Jo and the wall was quickly filled as Jo witnessed her negligible chest being engulfed by Tara's giant mammaries before feeling the back of her head smash into the wall. She would have gone down but Tara held her up by the hair against the wall. Pushing Jo down slightly, Tara cocked her chest back the right before sending her right breast crashing into Jo's face. Jo's head once again collided with the wall as Tara repeated the procedure with her left breast. Tara held Jo in place for a few minutes while she breast-boxed her head into the wall. Jo could do nothing but sob as Tara humiliated the teenager with her breasts, which were now covered in blood that had been breast-beaten out of Jo's nose and lips. Tara let go of Jo's hair and just as Jo was about to slide down the wall a beaten mess, Tara charged both of her breasts into Jo's face holding her in place against the wall. Once again, Jo's protests were entirely muffled, this time by Tara's overwhelming chest. In what was now her trademark move, Tara breast smothered the overconfident teenager into oblivion, letting Jo slide pathetically down the wall once she was out.
Apart from a few bruises around the hip area where Tasha had swung her sides into the walls, Tara emerged from her handicapped fight pretty much unscathed. Still, she was dirty enough to warrant another hot shower which she took, cleaning Jo's blood off her breasts in the process.
Emerging from the shower, she readjusted her string bikini top, plucking away at the seams of her miniature triangles, straightening them out with her fingernails for a few seconds. As a final tweak, she pinched both triangles away from her erect nipples a few centimetres, airing her sweaty nipples for a few minutes, before letting go of them. The taut nylon straps of her string bikini top regained their natural tension as the master-crafted patches snapped back perfectly around her nipples continuing their illustrious role of shielding the token upper body parts that Tara left to the disused imagination.
Tara stripped Tasha bare, tying her to Jo with her T-Shirt and after stuffing her slightly bloody knickers in her mouth, she locked them both in a cubicle. After getting dressed, Tara took a few pictures of her bloodied opponents unconscious in the cubicle with her mobile phone and left the complex.
The next day, Tasha's 19 year old boyfriend received a multimedia text message to his phone. With the number anonymous, Fresh, as he was known, opened the text with some curiosity. Shocked, he saw a naked picture of his girlfriend battered and unconscious. Almost immediately, he received another message, again an anonymous number. It took Fresh a while to work out that he was looking at a picture of someone's shadow, a female's shadow to be precise. Upon recognizing the shadow to be that of none other than Tara's (the abnormally large chest area was a bit if a giveaway), his mouth dropped. Underneath the picture, the message read: "Isn't it about time you got a real woman?".
Over the next few day, stories began spreading around the base about Tara's encounter with the two girls. A day or two later, the infamous shower room brawl was available for public viewing after a one of Fresh's mates who worked in security took the trouble to dig out the footage from the CCTV system. They boys on the base loved the bit at the end where Jo's pounds on Tara's rock-solid chest and aptly named her "Punchbags". The girls however were slightly more insulting in their response, referring to her only as "The Queen Bitch".
