Chapter 9. Fruit Fall’s Beginning

“I’m afraid Zatanna might be right, girls,” Sue whispered softly with a look of concern on her face, “in that we may have stirred up a hornet’s nest. What do we do now? Take turns doing booth stints until one table or the other is decimated and without breasts? This isn’t what I imagined it would be like when we decided to start playing the booth game to win!”

“I don’t have an answer for you yet, Sue,” Wanda said softly but calmly as the three breasted girls from Bill’s table stood and walked over to stand before the Game room door to wait for their unlucky tablemate’s exit. “In retrospect, I guess it isn’t a good idea to choose to play the debreasting booth game with girls having friends sitting so close to your table.”

“I’ll tell you what we do, Sue,” Janet replied in a whispered voice with a sly smile on her face. “We play smart! Let them try to wait us out if they want, while we stay awake and poach their bacon at the first opportunity.”

“Play smart?” Sue asked softly with disbelief evident on her face. “Where have I heard that phrase before, Janet? Might I remind you that if we play smart and try to wait those girls out for too long, the three booth stints we’ve all agreed to do will suddenly be taking place at closely spaced intervals.”

“Oh my heck!” Janet spat with a reddening face. “I just pulled a Tammy McGreevy! That is SO embarrassing! Sue’s right, we can’t let this…situation…delay our own booth stints…and interfere with our own fun for too long.”

“No, you were right the first time, Janet,” Zatanna interjected with a chuckle, keeping the level of her voice barely audible. “We either play it smart and wait to pick their table apart, as I might remind you a friend asked us to do, or we draw straws to see who will surrender their breasts to that blonde’s sister. Not the most terrible solution, given who we are and our unusual situation, but a solution that will make a mockery of our supposed new approach to playing the game.”

“Relax, girls,” Wanda urged softly just as the men took their seats, “and keep enjoying the night just as you have been, although I think we should do so with a bit more decorum…for a while at least. Let’s not intentionally make the girls at the nearby tables feel like we’re unaware of the heartbreak they feel when they lose their assets while playing the debreasting booth game. I think things will work themselves out shortly, as I expect these other girls at Barbara’s table will be urged to do booth stints sooner rather than later. Then we fulfill the wishes of that friend Zatanna mentioned.”

Wanda nodded to the front of the dance floor with a smile on her face and observed, “Dinah is still over at the food-ordering counter, evidently waiting for our sandwiches rather than letting them be delivered to our table by Kaori. I’m going to go fetch her, after relaying the pertinent points from this discussion to her. Then, I suggest we all relax and forget about booth games while we watch Diana begin her jousts…if and when you’re ready to do so, Princess. I certainly wouldn’t want to rush you.”

“Worry not, friend Wanda,” Diana said laughing heartily, “your urging is unneeded, though I understand its purpose. While I found Dinah’s booth game most interesting, I am eager for the action the jousts will bring to me. It is time I began to cause the falling of foolish girls’ fruit, and contributing to the profitability of friend Bill’s business. Fetch young Dinah while I finish my drink. Then I will take the Bacon Risker box!”

As Wanda stepped over to stand beside Dinah in front of the kitchen counter’s food-ordering station, she was surprised to see Bill Jennings step past the two of them to stand before the chef at the deep-frying station. As Wanda relayed to Dinah the discussion that had just taken place at their table, she couldn’t help but hear Bill tell the chef to make five additional sandwiches from the breast bacon she was cooking—Debbie’s freshly harvested and thinly sliced breast bacon.

“Okay, Wanda,” Dinah replied with confusion on her face, “I guess you’re right, and we can be a little less passionate as we play the debreasting booth game. I’ll even go tell Debbie that I’m sorry I ruined her tits…even though I’m not…and offer to let her sister flatten my chest if you think that would make her feel better.”

“No, Dinah,” Bill Jennings interjected, as he paused on his return journey to his current table, while staring out at Barbara and her escorts hugging Debbie at the Game room door, “girls around here don’t worry about the woes of girls they don’t know, even when they are responsible for those woes. The surrendering of breasts, or even life, is a commonly occurring event here. Just go back to enjoying your visit to my nightclub in the same way you had been, and help your tablemates be aware of other opportunities to do me or Coach Taft favors while otherwise going forward with your plans for the evening.” Bill then hurried away to retake his seat at the smaller table adjacent the dance floor.

Wanda slowly nodded and then shrugged, before admitting, “Bill’s the expert on debreasting booth nightclub etiquette, so we ignore Debbie and her friends. But we do that ignoring at our table, Dinah. Let Kaori do her job, and deliver the sandwiches made from the breast bacon you harvested to our table, and, evidently, to Bill’s table as well. It seems our friend is going to give Debbie the same opportunity he once gave me, and let her eat her own meat!” Dinah’s face was filled with mixed emotions as Wanda led her back to their table.

A few minutes later, Kaori busily distributed sandwiches before the eight do-gooders before doing the same for Bill and the four girls at his table, including breastless Debbie wearing round chest bandages. “Take a bite of your sandwich, Diana,” Wanda urged, noting that there was only one gulp of Lactic Blaster left in the Amazon’s glass, “and join Dinah, Oliver, and Hank in tasting heaven on a bun for the first time. One bite of deep-fried breast bacon covered with a very pretty lady named Marge’s secret sauce will cause any reservations you might currently harbor to become a distant memory…I promise.” Wanda quickly led by example, and took a big bite from her own sandwich, before splitting her attention between the conversations at her table and Bill’s.

“I assure you, friend Wanda,” Diana chortled loudly, “that I came to this nightclub without reservations. My people have always been adept at sharing in the pleasantries offered to them as they make their journeys through life and visit other lands.” Diana took a big bite of sandwich and chewed with relish before declaring, “A most wondrous delicacy, just as Wanda claimed! It would be most easy to delay my jousts until my snack is finished, but I yearn for action. I go now to await brave girls to accept my challenge to joust with breasts endangered!”

“This IS mighty tasty, Wanda,” Oliver Queen said while nodding with his mouth full. “Diana, I would wish you good luck, but it’s not you that needs it. It’s the girls that choose to challenge you, and we who yearn to see you hanging by your own mammoth breasts that need the luck. Do try not to make it look too easy as you send girl’s toppling off the balance beam and, eventually, breastless to the floor.”

“Yeah, I think Ollie has a point, Diana,” Hank interjected as he nodded and grinned, “about not making it look too easy, I mean. If you want to keep competitors coming for more jousts, you may want to look like you were almost beaten from time to time. Jeese! These sandwiches are great, Wanda. Thanks for harvesting the breast bacon, Dinah. I can’t believe Sue opted for vegetarian, or that I’m going to be able to hold off trading another set of tits for more sandwiches before Diana’s done with her first jousts.”

“Your points are taken, gentlemen,” Diana replied with a hearty chuckle, “though I’ll not persuade girls to risk their attributes in jousting games against me through trickery. I think perhaps I shall suffer the occasional very real close call as I play the Balance Beam Joust game, first as I learn the limitations to movement that the game equipment forces upon me, and then as the many drinks I hope to imbibe slow my reflexes and impair my sense of balance. Forgive me if I try to avoid the breast suspension you yearn for, Oliver…my own breast suspension…and try to make do with seeing other girls in that position.” Diana grinned as she finished off her Lactic Blaster, stood, and made her way to stand in the Bacon Risker box.

“Glad to be of help, Hank!” Dinah said giggling as she watched Diana in the box begin stripping off her bikini. “I’m also happy to hear someone is going to soon have another of these fabulous sandwiches on their way to our table. I’m famished and can’t wait to see if the next girl’s meat tastes as good as Debbie’s. More importantly, I’m eager for someone else to join in on playing the debreasting booth game from the kitchen side…hoping the company will let me feel less like I’m a mean bitch. I guess I’m now feeling guilty for having killed another girl’s breasts!”

“The very fact that you’re having that feeling proves that you are not a mean bitch, Dinah,” Janet said with a smile. “That feeling is very normal. I had it myself a few weeks ago when I popped the balloons of a girl I genuinely didn’t like. I suppose all of us will feel somewhat guilty as we poach the bacon from girls who just happen to be unlucky enough to take a booth at the wrong time. I guarantee that feeling will go away as girls at our own table begin to become the unlucky ones and return to our table after having their offered donations accepted while playing the debreasting booth game.”

“Thanks for making me feel better, Janet,” Dinah replied grinning as she took a second bite from her sandwich. “By the way, did anyone note what time it was when I popped my first set of breast balloons? When can I play the game from the kitchen side again?”

“You’ll have to wait until the clock on the wall above the Balance Beam Joust game’s timer says 7:30, sweetie,” Sue informed Dinah with a sheepish smile on her face as she took a second bite of her vegetarian sandwich. “In the meantime, we can watch Diana joust. She has her cuffs, straps, and belts on now. I wonder if she’ll mount the balance beam right away, or if she’ll wait for the Bacon Poacher boxes to be filled?”

“Diana’s best strategy is to wait until the challengers fill their boxes, and take the beam at the same time as the other two girls, Sue,” Zatanna replied grinning from ear to ear. “The Bacon Poachers’ best strategies are to let Diana take the beam first, and spend some energy maintaining her balance as she waits for them to get rigged up. If that was Wanda out there, instead of Diana, I think I might be tempted to become a Bacon Poacher. The game looks like it would be fun to play, and I know it would be cool to see razor-wire loops getting pulled through Wanda’s moneymakers again!”

Wanda almost missed Zatanna’s jab as she had been listening to the goings on at the table next door. Bill had sounded genuinely disappointed at Debbie’s being debreasted during her first booth stint, and had done his best to console her before getting her to admit that she had, at least, enjoyed her orgasmatron-beam treatment as her breast bacon had been harvested. Then, to the girls at Bill’s table’s surprise, the sandwiches had arrived. Bill told the girls he didn’t want them to get hungry, as he wasn’t going to order their fillets prepared until they had all earned them by playing the debreasting booth game. Both Debbie and Barbara seemed quite disturbed when they learned that the sandwiches were made from Debbie’s harvested meat, but that changed, and Debbie began to glow with pride as she heard comments about how good she tasted from both her table and Wanda’s.

By the time Diana had begun stripping in the Bacon Risker box, Debbie and her friends, including Barbara, were eating with obvious relish and wearing smiles on their faces. Debbie seemed to have pushed her concerns about how her husband would react to her breastless status to the back of her mind. That was when Wanda had watched Bill nod to Diana, now ready to joust and waiting for Bacon Poachers to challenge her, and tell the three breasted girls at his table that they could challenge the huge-breasted girl in the Balance Beam Joust game instead of playing the debreasting booth game if they wanted.

It was then, as Bill made it clear that he expected the other three girls at his table to, sooner rather than later, live up to their promises to play one of his nightclub’s games, that Wanda realized that Bill had never made the girls promise to play the debreasting booth game from inside the Game room—Bill had never made the girls promise to risk their own breasts. As Wanda suddenly realized that Bill’s tablemates could earn their promised fillets by being kitchen-side players and harvesting other girls’ breasts, she shivered as a chill ran down her back. If Barbara or one of her tablemates suddenly had the same epiphany that Wanda had just had, Barbara might avoid the painful fate Wanda hoped one of her tablemates would force upon the young girl—Barbara might yet earn papers through marriage to Bill after risking her life at Club X!

“Sorry, Zatanna, but I think we should all agree to not play the Balance Beam Joust game against one another,” Wanda replied softly as she ripped her attention away from Bill’s table. “I suggest we make this agreement for the same reason we agreed not to play the debreasting booth game with each other. We don’t pop each other’s balloons, period! Except under the unusual conditions I told the boys they might find themselves in, no one goes back to the country with balloon popping bragging rights over one of us girls, okay?”

“Easy, Wanda,” Zatanna said chuckling, “I was just teasing. Actually, if we put this up to a vote, I would vote with you, not against you. Janet’s the girl your big breasts need to worry about!” The table laughed with everyone nodding as Janet grinned like a Cheshire cat.

“Look!” Dinah suddenly interjected as she squealed with excitement. “Some girls are talking to Diana! Maybe she’s about to get some action!”

Diana turned to look at the tall, lanky redhead who had just spoken, and the handful of other youngish girls she was with, and asked with a loud laugh, “Did you just address me, young lady? Sorrowfully, my attention was diverted elsewhere, and I am unsure I heard your words correctly.”

“I said, big tits, take a perch on the balance beam if you want the girls of Phi Gamma Phi to harvest those big knockers of yours,” the freckled girl wearing a pixy cut chortled as she brazenly admired the Amazon’s nude figure. “Like most every other sorority at Metropolitan University, Phi Gamma Phi has pledged that every one of our breasted sisters will risk her bacon tonight in celebration of the boys’ and girls’ gymnastics teams’ rare double Tournament Championship. Being a sorority with a lot of jocks, we thought this Balance Beam Joust game was the perfect alternative to risking our tits in a debreasting booth game.”

“While I am pleased that my hearing is working correctly, young one, and, being athletically inclined myself, am also pleased that other such girls are willing to play this strangely dangerous game with me,” Diana replied with obvious joviality as she pointed the double-hooked jousting pole at the redhead’s chest, “would not those smallish breasts you carry be safer protruding from yon debreasting booth portals? However, if you yearn to see your chest become even less womanly, you have but to take a Bacon Poacher box, hopefully with one of your sorority sisters taking the other.”

“Oh, I’ll take a box and strip, big tits, along with one of my sisters,” the redhead replied, her brown eyes flashing with the anger she felt at having her B-cups ridiculed, “but we want you up on that beam with those huge double D’s balled and purpling on your chest while you struggle to keep your balance as we get belted up. Then we’ll come at you two at a time until you’re the one with the much less womanly chest. While I’ll bet Ruth and I get you first joust, you’ll be happy to know that Phi Gamma Phi is twenty-four breasted girls strong, and each and every one of us is hoping to risk our bacon in a competitive joust rather than passively waiting in one of those debreasting booths for ten minutes to see whether or not someone will choose to poach our bacon.”

“As I agree with your sentiment and admire your strategy, young lady, I, Diana, will do as you ask,” the Amazon Princess chuckled as she stepped into the combat zone. “I have heard that there is already one breastless sorority at your university. I promise I will do my best to make Phi Gamma Phi a second.” Diana smiled at the redhead, turned, and stepped up the small, portable, folding ladder Tricia had placed against the center of the balance beam to take a perch atop the narrow surface.

Tricia quickly climbed the ladder herself so she could pull the double-noosed debreasting module attached to the end of the center rope, which was hanging from the ceiling forward of the beam and nearer the spectators, against the Amazon’s chest. Then the blonde cinched the nooses, one breast at a time, into the bases of Diana’s huge mammaries, causing them to ball and to, almost immediately, redden. Tricia picked up, refolded, and replaced the ladder against the room’s wall below a wall switch, which she used to adjust the slack in Diana’s rope, so that she wouldn’t have far to fall, if she lost her footing, before the nooses took her weight. Then she flipped another switch to start Diana’s timer.

Diana smiled as she watched the redhead and an equally lanky short-haired black girl step into the Bacon Poacher boxes and strip off their tan gym shorts and sports bras, both of which were marked with their sorority letters. The Amazon Princess’s thick nipples turreted out from her large pinkish-brown areolae as she got her first view of Ruth’s brownish-tipped C-cups and the redhead’s brownish-pink-tipped B-cups, and the landing strips each girl wore above their vulvas. Wonder Woman’s own exposed vulva moistened as she watched the two girls’ nipples grow turgid as they stepped up the ladders positioned by Tina and Jill near the ends of the balance beam, and then get debreasting nooses cinched into the bases of their own breasts.

Tricia watched as her sisters carried their folding ladders back to the corners of the combat zone and quickly adjusted the slackness in the two girl’s ropes, before she announced with the excitement obvious on her grinning face, “You’re good to go, girls! Have fun, and play fair!”

“To hell with fair!” the black girl spat with bad intentions evident in her brown eyes. “Get her, Pat!”

Diana immediately twisted her head to see the redhead, evidently named Pat, thrust one of her jousting pole’s hooks towards the waist belt ring protruding below her belly button, and tried to bend backwards out of the way as she swept her own jousting pole upward and to her left. Princess Diana gasped with surprise as she felt the breast nooses pull on her balled flesh as she ran out of rope slack due to her backwards duck, and then smiled as her pole met Pat’s and deflected the hook away from the targeted ring.

The Amazon twisted to her right as she straightened back up to regain slack in her rope, and managed to deflect the end of Ruth’s jousting pole to the right away from her right outside ankle ring at the very last moment, before flashing the end of her own pole back to the left, narrowly missing hooking the black girl’s left forward arm-band ring. As Diana’s hook continued its journey as she spun back to her left, Ruth had to lean hard backward to avoid the line connecting her breast nooses to her ceiling rope getting caught by Diana’s hook, forcing her to divert her attention to her endangered balance.

Diana smiled, knowing that if she acted quickly, she could finish the black girl off, but then had to return her attention back to the redhead as she felt the sudden tug on her left ankle cuff. The Amazon Princess’s outer ankle-cuff ring was hooked by the redhead, and her own breasts were now in dire danger. Diana slid her left foot hard inward, catching Pat by surprise as the sorority girl’s arms were pulled outward by her own jousting pole. The redhead pulled back hard on her pole, intent on dislodging the huge-breasted dark-haired girl’s foot from the beam, but was surprised as the expected resistance to her pole came to a sudden end as her opponent suddenly pushed her foot back forward and slashed the hook out of her ankle-cuff ring with an outward parry of her own jousting pole. Thrown off balance from her own backwards lean and violent jerk, the redhead fell sideways off of the gymnastics equipment.

Wonder Woman screamed in jubilation as she twisted back to her right to parry Ruth’s thrust at her own outer right arm-band ring. Her parry successful, Diana speared the hook at the end of her jousting pole downward towards the black girl’s outer left ankle-cuff ring. Ruth yanked her left foot backwards, pulling the ring away from the hook targeting it at the last second, and then gasped in surprise and despair as she pushed the foot back downwards and suddenly realized she had missed placing it back on the beam surface. Ruth screamed in terror as she felt the upward pull on her breast bases as she joined her sorority sister, Pat, who was moaning in discomfort, in breast suspension.

Diana got little comfort from watching the two girls grimace as their breasts’ connecting tissues struggled to bear the weight of their bodies instead of just their chest ornaments. She could also see she was going to get little respite as a raven-haired, almond-eyed Oriental girl joined a blue-eyed brunette in stripping in the Bacon Poacher boxes as they watched their sorority sisters hang in pain, struggling hopelessly to grip the greased rope ends, and waiting helplessly for their debreastings to begin.

“Holy Moses!” Hank Pym yelled excitedly. “Look at those distended breasts purple as the girls hang from them. Cool!”

“Yeah, it does look kind of cool, doesn’t it, Hank,” Oliver Queen admitted dryly as he grinned at the moaning girls kicking their feet as they struggled to get grips on obviously slippery ropes, “although I doubt that would be the thoughts in our minds if we were female and the ones hanging by our tits. I’ll bet that’s quite painful!”

“Very!” Wanda said with a giggle as she watched the two-girl show. “I’ve had breast suspension forced on me twice. Once by a vigilante known as the Hangman, who spared my neck because I’m female, and once here at Final Fantasy, by a friend. The strain on your breasts’ connecting tissue as it takes the weight of your body is something mother nature never intended, and your brain’s pain receptors let you clearly understand that as the tissue stretches on the verge of tearing…a terrifying experience I assure you. Also a painful experience, even after you’re let down from the ropes…one way or another. I spent days using healing techniques that only a few folks, like Zatanna and myself, know, before my chest felt normal again after the Hangman encounter.”

“Don’t you just hate it…the way Wanda has already been subjected to every possible torment…when you see it the first time with your very own eyes, boys?” Janet quipped with faux disdain. “Don’t worry, it gets better, Hank, you just watch and see! Breast suspension and stretched and tearing connecting tissue will be the least of those girls’ problems in a handful of seconds!”

“The redhead knows it too!” Hank replied excitedly. “Look at the terror on her face as she stares down at the top of the transparent plastic-covered debreasting module! She can probably see the chemical reaction as the inner liner Bill mentioned gets dissolved.”

“Yes, and if she’s done her homework,” Oliver said nodding with a grin on his face, “she knows that means the outer plastic is about to be history as well. Then her breasts will be dealing with razor wire!”

“Not for long, though, Ollie,” Zatanna replied matter-of-factly with only a tinge of excitement in her voice. “Those B-cup balloons she’s hanging by don’t carry much air. They’ll be fully popped and dead fruit on the nightclub floor in no time at all!”

“The poor dear,” Sue said softly with more than a hint of sadness, “I hope she’s getting the memorable experience she was hoping for at the start of the night. I would hate to think she’s going to regret what’s about to…OH!” Sue gasped as the plastic covering the redhead’s razor-wire loops abruptly evaporated, and the girl shrilled in terror and agony as she felt blood on her rib cage and flesh being ripped open as the razor-wire loops closed into and began to be pulled up through the bases of her breasts.

“JEESE!” Hank Pym exclaimed in obvious disbelief. “Zatanna was right! That girl is sinking fairly quickly toward the floor as the wire gets buried deeper and deeper into her breast meat.”

“She’s got company now, boys!” Dinah announced nodding towards the other sorority girl hanging by darker skinned distended breasts. “The bigger breasted jouster’s plastic line just evaporated, and now she’s getting the same treatment as her friend is.” Dinah forced herself to maintain her gaze in the direction of the balance beam as she sensed movement behind her.

“Was getting!” Janet corrected as she bounced on her chair while watching the redhead and her breasts suddenly fall separately to the floor. “The redhead has had her balloons popped. Her night just ended with a whimper, when it comes to breast plopping sounds!”

“She’s got some nasty looking wounds there,” Ollie observed dryly. “Those scars won’t look pretty, but at least she isn’t bleeding as badly as I expected.”

“She’ll be off to an instant-care facility getting skin grafts shortly,” Sue said softly. “While her chest won’t ever be as pretty as it was, it won’t be repulsive either.”

“She’ll be wearing badges of honor, sort of,” Wanda said nodding as she wanted to make what her friends were seeing more palatable. “She’ll be bragging to her friends about this night…telling them how brave she was. Most girls from this city earn such scars eventually.”

“The black girl has blood on her rib cage now as well,” Hank observed as he grinned out at the Balance Beam Joust game combat zone, “but she doesn’t seem to be having the razor-wire nooses pulled through her ta tas as fast as the redhead. It also looks like the Oriental girl in the Bacon Poacher box is going to wait to enter the game until her dark-skinned sorority sister has had her white meat fully removed.”

“That line wasn’t funny even when the Riddler used it on me, Hank,” Wanda interjected, red-faced, while she tried to maintain a semblance of a smile. “She isn’t poultry where breasts are the only ‘white meat’, not that her dark-skin-covered breast bacon won’t taste just fine.”

Dinah, who had struggled to maintain her attention on the jousting station while sensing one of the girls from the table behind her move out onto the dance floor, before she caught the Game room door open and close behind a foxy and well-stacked white-clad black girl out of the corner of her eye, glanced surreptitiously out to the debreasting booth portals. The second two booth players had vacated their booths, her table having failed to notice their orgasmatron-induced final minute due to the excitement all around them, and Dinah noted that booths 1 through 3 were now filled with pale-skinned breasts of various proportions.

Dinah grinned and took the opportunity to use Wanda’s statement to her own advantage, as she chortled softly, “I thought someone said that many believe melanin adds to the flavor of meat, Wanda. I know we were talking fillets then, but it might be true of breast bacon as well. Which one of you gentlemen is going to harvest a set of dark-skinned breasts so that we can test that theory out, and end my guilt trip for being the only one of us to have played the debreasting booth game from the kitchen side?”

“What…Dinah?” Oliver asked softly as he glanced from the bawling black girl sinking slowly toward the floor as her debreasting nooses pulled upwards through her C-cups to his grinning girlfriend. “Look sweetheart, Diana’s still got quite a bit of time left in her jousting game, and neither of us guys wants to miss her massive melons plopping onto the floor. Besides, the three girls in the debreasting booths….” Oliver grinned and shook his head as dark-skinned DD-cups suddenly filled booth 5’s debreasting portals, before agreeing, “Oh! Well in a minute, if someone else doesn’t do her first!”

Oliver picked up the remainder of his sandwich and took a big bite as he turned his attention back to the Balance Beam Joust game just as the black girl dropped to the floor in three separate parts, with her C-cups making a nice wet double-plopping sound. “Cool! I could get used to watching this entertainment! And it looks like that entertainment is going to begin all over again,” Oliver observed as the newly outfitted girls moved from the Bacon Poacher boxes into the combat zone while the unhappy looking redhead and the black girl had their wounds wiped clean and bandaged by Tricia before putting their gym shorts back on.

As Oliver watched Tina and Jill cinch nooses into the bases of the Oriental girl and brunette’s breasts, pinkish-brown-tipped C-cups and D-cups, respectively, he finished his sandwich and then asked, “Does anyone think it likely that Diana will have a misstep this bout?” Seeing nothing but shaking heads around him, he quipped, “In that case, it would be fairly safe to play the debreasting booth game. We won’t miss much, Hank, as Diana is likely going to be tumbling girls off that beam to hang by their moneymakers for most of the evening. Do you want to be the next kitchen-side player, Hank, or should I give it a go?”

“Knock yourself out, Ollie, and go for it if you want,” Hank said after quickly glancing out to the debreasting portals. “Popping those monster balloons should be fun, although they’re poor substitutes for Diana’s massive wrack! Me, I’m going to wait for a bit and see if I can have a chance to ruin a perfect pair of slightly tanned C-cups. I want to fantasize about them being Janet’s balloons as I pop them!”

Oliver Queen laughed at his friend, Hank Pym, and the blush Hank had managed to put on his wife, Janet’s, face, as he stood. Then he headed for debreasting booth 5’s portals. He didn’t need to look at the table Bill Jennings now sat at to see the apprehension that was suddenly filling the faces of the girls that sat there, or verify that the table now had an empty chair. He knew Dinah well enough to know that her mind had never wavered from the hunt, and that the dark-skinned breasts Dinah had sent him to murder belonged to one of the papered girls.

Chapter 10. Sensual Simone Meets Oliver Queen

“Hello in there,” Oliver Queen said softly as he lifted the perfect, dark-chocolate-colored, brownish-tipped DD-cups protruding from booth 5’s debreasting portals with the palms of his hands to test the breasts’ weight, “my name is Oliver…or Ollie if you prefer…do you have a minute to spare? I thought we might talk.” Oliver smiled as the breasts’ nipples swelled and stiffened.

“Talk?” a rich voice asked from behind the opaque booth window in a tone that made most men think of a bedroom devoid of sleep. “Sure. I’m not going anywhere for another eight-and-a-half minutes…I hope. My name’s Simone. I think your beard is stylish by the way. You don’t see many men with facial hair these days.”

“Thank you Simone,” Oliver replied with a chuckle as he tickled the undersides of the girl’s breasts with his fingers, “I’m from the country. I think beards are more common there than here in the city. I’ll return the compliment and tell you that these nice big breasts, the only parts of you I can see, with you in that booth behind a non-transparent window, are very pretty. I’m sure the rest of you is equally lovely.”

“That’s very nice of you to say, Oliver,” Simone replied giggling. “You’ve probably seen the rest of me. I’m sitting at the table next to you…with Bill Jennings, the owner of Final Fantasy. Do you know him?”

“You’re THAT hottie?” Oliver asked with mock surprise, laughing, as he tweaked Simone’s turreted nipples with his thumbs and forefingers. “I did steal a few peeks at you. I can’t say that I know Bill, but I was introduced to him earlier today. What do you think of his nightclub?”

“It’s a pretty cool place,” Simone said, willing her bedroom voice to become a sensual purr, “and the food is fantastic…so long as you’re not the girl that provided the meat. Are my breasts, that you said were so pretty and your hands seem so fond of…?”

“About to become food?” Oliver Queen replied softly, finishing the exotic beauty’s sentence as he tweaked her turgid nipples. “Possibly, Simone,” Oliver admitted as he flashed a friendly smile at the booth window. “That’s one of the things I want to talk to you about. However, first, why don’t you tell me about yourself, while I give your lovely breasts a little oral stimulation.” Oliver bent his head and began suckling on Simone’s right nipple, eliciting a low moan from the girl in booth 5.

Wonder Woman’s face beamed with the joy of excitement as she battled the two naked girls atop the thin and perilous surface. The two new combatants, both sporting clean shaven vulvas, were trying a different strategy than their predecessors, and the joust had become a fencing match with their hook-tipped poles clashing repeatedly with Diana’s as they strove to knock it into a position that would leave the huge-breasted Amazon open for her rings being hooked. Diana wasn’t cooperating in the least as her pole flashed from one side of the balance beam to the other, parrying the Bacon Poachers’ poles.

This fencing had gone on for several minutes before the brunette with shoulder-length locks made the fatal mistake of pausing in her attack and leaving her pole pushed forward towards her bodacious opponent. Diana immediately seized the moment, hooked the brunette’s pole-tip hook with her own, and twisted, yanking the blue-eyed girl’s pole towards the long-haired Oriental girl. The brunette released her pole, but not in time to save her balance, and her slightly drooping D-cups took her weight as she found herself hanging in mid air.

Surprise filled the Oriental girl’s brown eyes as she desperately swung her own pole at the projectile that had been her partner’s jousting weapon. She grinned as she succeeded in knocking the danger away, and then screamed in disappointment as she felt herself getting tugged sideways by her swooping C-cups’ as the larger raven-haired girl used the back of her hook to push on her opponent’s ceiling rope. Diana grinned victoriously as the Oriental girl joined the brunette in dancing on air as her debreasting noose module took her weight.

The Amazon princess grinned with satisfaction as a fit-looking redhead joined an equally athletic-looking blonde, both sporting perfect C-cups and hairless vulvas, in gearing up in the Breast Poacher boxes. Wonder Woman glanced at her timer, noting that she had four minutes of game time left, and then back out to her next set of challengers. She smiled as she realized the blonde’s pinkish-tipped orbs had but to join the redhead’s brownish-pink-tipped chest ornaments in temporary breast suspension before she could get some refreshment, finish her sandwich, and allow her own purpling mammaries to return to their natural color. Then she returned her attention to the brunette, so that she could watch her victory become completed when the girl’s chest gave way. Wonder Woman marveled in surprise as she found that debreasting other girls made her sex grow wet.

“Another two girls hanging by their tits!” Hank Pym chortled happily. “Now this is what I call entertainment. Going to strip clubs is going to seem pretty tame after this!”

“Strip clubs?” Janet Van Dyne asked with mock surprise and irritation. “Have you been ogling other girls behind my back, Hank?” As her husband blushed with embarrassment, Janet laughed and said, “Just watch the pretty girls lose their breasts, darling. I was just teasing! I’ve know about your Friday afternoon happy hour escapades with Haw…Clint…for years.”

“Yeah, Janet, I suspected as much,” Hank Pym admitted softly as he watched two girls kick and moan in air. “However, you’ve been having fun at my expense for much too long today. Don’t think for one minute that I’ll feel sorry for you when you get the spanking you deser…the brunette’s plastic line just evaporated! Her ta tas are feeling the bite of razor wire now!”

“Is it just me, girls, or does overexcitement and bouncing-on-chair tendencies run rampant in the Pym/Van Dyne family?” Zatanna asked no one in particular. Laughter filled the reserved table as they struggled to pay attention to both the girls hanging by breasts over the Balance Beam Joust game combat area, and Oliver Queen and the large set of dark-skinned breasts he was fondling.

“You’re a corporate vice president for a clothing company at age 34?” Oliver Queen asked with obvious surprise as he pulled his lips from Simone’s left breast tip and returned to pleasuring the girl’s large orbs with his hands. “It’s nice that your husband lets you help run his business. I had heard not many girls get such opportunities these days. What’s he like?”

“It’s my family’s business, not my husband’s, you silly boy!” Simone replied giggling. “Harrison is nice though, and quite fun to be with most of the time. He should be! The papers that came with the marriage I paid for 16 years ago when I otherwise would have become eligible for The Lottery did cost me a pretty penny.”

“Okay, I understand, I think,” Oliver chuckled as he weighed Simone’s breasts in his hands thoughtfully. “Unlike Barbara, whose family was trying to buy a rich husband for her, before Bill stepped in and said he would forgo the dowry if he could risk her life for one night at Club X, your family has the money, but still had to pay a dowry for your marriage. Is…Harrison…going to be happy or sad if I take these off your chest, Simone?”

“Oh, he would be heartbroken, Oliver,” Simone replied with a quiver in her bedroom voice, “as he quite likes it when I display my assets at our friends’ parties. However, unlike Debbie’s husband, he won’t allow his disappointment in my loss of those assets, which hopefully I can still talk you out of poaching, to see me carted down to a government meat processing facility for live butchering following a quick divorce. We have a pre-nuptial agreement stipulating that my financial resources go back to my family, rather than to my husband, upon my divorce or death. Those financial resources include our daughters, what with the price of meat the way it is these days. You seem to know quite a lot about Barbara’s situation, Oliver, for someone who has never met her and was just introduced to Bill Jennings today. How is that?”

“Bill seems to be quite comfortable being around some of the girls at my table, Simone,” Oliver Queen replied truthfully as he tickled the undersides of the DD-cups before him, “and he seemed quite proud of his young date. How many children do you have, Simone? Are they all daughters, and how will they react if I send you home without these big balloons on your chest?” Ollie bent and returned to suckling first on one brownish-tipped nipple and then the other, eliciting a coo from Simone as she prepared her answer to a question the left her most uncomfortable.

“Just in case you haven’t noticed, Hank, the Oriental girl’s plastic coverings just evaporated from her razor-wire nooses as well,” Wanda said giggling, enjoying the sheer joy on her friend, teammate, and breast regenerator’s face. “Which girl’s melons do you think will splat on the floor first?”

“The oriental girl’s C-cups, Wanda,” Hank replied chuckling, “as breast mass and rate of upward progress through a girl’s chest seem to be correlated when it comes to duration of breast suspension in razor-wire nooses. Would one of you like to bet your breasts against a fillet that I’m wrong? Sue?”

“No thanks, Hank,” Sue replied with a smile on her face. “I won’t bet for three reasons. Firstly, I think the scientist in you has already done the math and you know you’re right. Secondly, I’m trying to return home breasted, and gambling my assets a fourth time tonight won’t improve my odds of accomplishing that. And finally, girls who lose bets involving their breasts around here get to bend over a waist-high bar and have a Zatanna hoop-knife pulled through the bases of those dangling, but soon former, assets. If I DO get myself debreasted tonight, it will be in a far more interesting manner than that!”

“I’m afraid you’ll find that all of us girls have the same sentiment, Hank,” Janet said giggling as she watched the two screaming girls sinking slowly downward through their debreasting nooses with pain, terror, and regret on their faces. “What about you, Dinah? Don’t think I missed you surreptitiously studying that debreasting options menu!”

“Well, I don’t want anyone to tell Ollie,” Dinah replied in a quivering voice, “but, while I’m going to select laser beam my first time in a debreasting booth with my boobies offered as donations to the kitchen, hoping to get a second taste of the orgasmatron beams later in the evening, I think I’m going to do knife the second time. Unlike Sue, I’d like to lose my breasts tonight, but in a very personal, rather than mechanical, way. I want to feel the guy’s hands on me as he saws off my breasts!”

“That’s our Canary!” Zatanna said chuckling heartily. “Well they are your breasts to lose any way you want, Dinah. However, I’ll give you two things you might want to consider. Firstly, girls outnumber guys in here by more than ten to one, so your knife wielder is most likely going to be wearing breasts of her own as she slowly pilfers yours. Secondly, if your debreastor decides to skin your milk bags first, it’s going to hurt like hell…probably for a fairly long time!”

“GOOD!” Dinah spat happily. “Most things in life are like making love with a guy! If he finishes too quickly it wasn’t worth doing in the first place. I want my one and only debreasting experience to last longer and be more satisfying than hers!” Dinah nodded to the Oriental girl and her C-cups just as they landed separately on the floor.

“Hola!” Princess Diana chortled loudly as the Oriental girl’s breast suspension came to an abrupt end. Then, as the brunette’s chest gave way, and she landed on her feet with disappointment on her face as her breasts made loud plopping sounds, the Amazon called out staring downward at first the blonde and then the redhead, “Next! Mount the beam girls and I’ll send those C-cups you carry to the kitchen before my timer runs down!”

Wonder Woman grinned as both girls rushed forward as their sorority sisters got their ravaged chests treated before pulling on bottoms. Soon Tina and Jill had C-cups balled and two more girls ready to challenge the Amazon in an attempt to poach her bounteous bosom.

“Ten girls in 16 years!” Oliver replied in amazement, as he pulled his lips from Simone’s breast tips and began tweaking nipples and areolae. “Wow! And not a single stretch mark. These city doctors must be good! How old is your eldest?”

“The oldest living daughter is 14,” Simone replied laughing joyfully, “and, yes, that means two things. Harrison is a real stud, and during the early days of our marriage kept me pregnant most of the time. It also means we eat veal, and that my first three daughters ended up becoming spitted meat during family barbecues. Family tradition demands that only the best and brightest girls make it to marriageable ages and get a share of the family resources. Gabrielle, my 14 year old, looks to be my first winner.”

Simone smiled and enjoyed the shocked look she saw on the face of a man known in his own time as Green Arrow, before admitting in her best bedroom voice, “In answer to your other question, if you pop my balloons, my daughters will take my bad luck in stride without any ill thoughts toward me. My family will deal with it as well, though I expect I’ll be urged to volunteer for a spit whenever the opportunity arises thereafter. You are not going to put me in that position, are you, Oliver?”

“I’m pretty sure that I AM going to do just that, Simone,” Oliver said softly with a friendly smile on his face as he again lifted the large melons he might soon harvest, “but not yet certain. If I do harvest your bacon, it will be up to you as to when to give into your family’s urges, and accept for yourself the fate you gave your eldest daughters. How much time do I have left to finalize my decision?”

“There are three minutes and twenty-five seconds left on my timer, Oliver,” Simone said softly in her sexiest voice, “which means, given the fact that you haven’t bothered to check my debreasting options yet, that you have decided and the method used to pop my big balloons is of no consequence to you. You’re just waiting to see if you need to watch your big-breasted friend on the balance beam hang by her tits, aren’t you Ollie? My best hope to leave this booth breasted is for your friend to lose her footing with seconds left on her own timer, which is now under two minutes. Then you’ll watch the air get let out of her balloons instead of mine, won’t you Oliver?”

“Yes, Simone,” Oliver said softly with laughter in his eyes as he stared into the opaque window, “you are right. It’s easy to see why you made it past your veal years. I’m afraid I should warn you that there is virtually zero chance that a sober Diana will fall from that beam. Just enjoy yourself while I suck on your breast tips some more, okay?”

“In that case, I’ll try one last thing to save myself!” Simone spat desperately and then moaned with pleasure as she felt warm wetness on her left breast tip. “I’ve never…cheated…on Harrison…but I’ll…give myself…to you…let you…take me…any way…you want…if you’ll…spare my breasts! Please! You can’t be docked…if a papered girl…offers first!”

“Tempting, Simone,” Oliver replied softly, not bothering to point out that his younger, fitter girlfriend was with him at Final Fantasy, “but not enough. Besides, I wasn’t just waiting for Diana to finish her jousts. I don’t know when booths 1 through 3 were filled, but I’m hoping it was more than a minute before you filled yours. I’d like us to be alone, you and I, as we finish this fun little game of ours!”

Simone gasped in pleasure as Oliver changed breast tips, and then groaned in despair as, one after another, the three girls in the other booths began moaning in pleasure-beam-induced ecstasy.

Wonder Woman grinned as the green-eyed blonde with hair all the way down her back made the first move, slashing wildly at her ceiling rope, evidently getting the idea from her Oriental sorority sister’s earlier demise. Diana easily parried the blow away from its target and then thrust the blunt end of her own pole hook towards the girl’s chest. The blonde twisted and leaned backwards before yelping as she took the Amazon’s thrust on the inside of her right breast.

Too late, Diana turned her attention to the redhead with shoulder-length hair, for the girl already had her left waist belt ring hooked and laughter in her brown eyes. The girl yanked and Diana was forced to give ground, desperately sliding her feet and hoping they remained over beam. Gasps came from the crowded room as her left foot came down with only the ends of her toes on wood. The Amazon desperately began sliding her foot to the side, trying for a better foot hold.

Without looking, Princess Diana swiftly parried backwards with the pole in her right hand as she sensed the blonde behind her thrust for the ring at the back of the vulnerable right ankle cuff. Then, as the two poles clashed behind her, and she watched the redhead coil for another hard yank on the hook in her waist-belt ring, the Amazon warrior grabbed for the end of the pole that had hooked her ring. With a steel grip, Wonder Woman pulled backwards and then outwards with her left hand to free the hook. Then Diana pushed violently forward with her arm gripping the end of the enemy’s pole, just as the redhead went for the kill and pulled hard, resulting in her own unwanted dismount from the balance beam.

“Hola!” Diana yelled in triumph as she twisted back to face the blonde who was nearly finished with another attempt at her right ankle-cuff ring. Again Princess Diana slashed the hook away at the last minute with her own pole, before regaining her two handed grip and thrusting upward for the blonde’s left belt ring. “Yes!” She cried as hook slid into ring, and then grinned as the blonde gripped the end of her pole, just as Diana had done with the, now hanging, redhead’s. Diana coiled to pull, and then, as the blonde unhooked and pushed her hand forward, relaxed. This caught the blonde by surprise, and as she fought for footing, Wonder Woman easily hooked the girl’s left outside arm band and sent her plunging into breast suspension.

“Diana’s done it!” Dinah yelled with obvious joy. “She’s made it through her first round of jousts successfully. Those girls won’t fall breastless to the floor until her timer has expired!”

“True,” Hank Pym admitted while chuckling excitedly, “but there IS a minute or more of breast suspension left to enjoy! God I love the way those girls are kicking and moaning as they hang by their tits! Then, naturally we’ll get to enjoy the slow rendering of live breasts into cold bacon! Don’t you girls just love this game?”

“Yes, darling,” Janet replied giggling happily, “but evidently not as much as you do. Me, I’m now more interested in Oliver’s game. Has anyone seen him read that dark beauty’s debreasting booth computer console yet? There can’t be much time left! Maybe he’s going to spare those big DD-cups!”

“Maybe that is the case, Janet,” Sue said softly while nodding, “although you would think he would be curious about her debreasting options even if he had decided not to poach her bacon. Perhaps he’s just waiting for those other girls’ final booth minutes to expire. Sighs of orgasm and moans of pleasure can be quite distracting if you’re trying to make the debreasting booth game you’re playing fun for both players.”

“We’re about to find out which is the case, Sue, for the other three girls just pulled their breasts out of those bacon traps,” Wanda said softly. “Unfortunately for the girl in booth 5, I think it was the latter, and that Oliver is about to collect the melanin-rich breasts Dinah was hankering to try. The poor girl picked an unlucky moment to fill that booth!” Wanda made sure she said the last sentence at a bit louder than the earlier sentences, aware that the friends of the girl in booth 5 were watching with great apprehension at Bill’s nearby table.

Chapter 11. Oliver Queen and the Dark-Chocolate Temptations

“So, Simone,” Oliver said softly after rising from his bent over breast-tip suckling posture to stare into the opaque window of booth 5, “I’m guessing I don’t have much time left to make up my mind, which I am now going to do, as all possible distractions have ended. I suppose the way a girl chooses to have her balloons popped, if she ends up getting her freely offered donations accepted for kitchen use, says a lot about a girl and her priorities. Which is it for you Simone, a quick death for these big melons before they become my table’s sandwich meat, or slow, prolonged murder, and a very memorable, but, at least partly, unpleasant experience?”

“Oh, I’m a sensible girl, Ollie,” Simone replied with a slight quiver infiltrating into her patented sensual purr. “When I entered this booth, I knew there was a chance that I might see my big boobs get sent to the kitchen. I know that a girl only donates her breast bacon once, so I’ve chosen to make that donation, if you really force me to do so, slow and memorable, but with as much decorum as possible. Beyond that…well…are you really going to make me spell out how I chose to get my melons murdered…if you won’t settle for sex…which I promise both of us will find more pleasurable…and memorable…than breast poaching…Ollie?”

“Again…tempting, Simone,” Oliver Queen replied softly with a friendly smile on his face, “but with my girlfriend sitting at my table with me, not really an option. No…I won’t make you announce how your breast balloons are about to get popped. I’ll read your computer screen before I hit your debreast button.”

“You’re a real gentleman, Ollie,” Simone replied giggling nervously. There was only a hint of fear and remorse in her voice as she asked, “Which one is the girlfriend? No…let me guess! It’s the blonde with the smaller tits who poached Debbie’s breast bacon, isn’t it? Did she send you out here to pop my big balloons? Is this all about breast-size envy?”

“Yes, Dinah’s my girl these days, Simone, and yes she sent me out here to harvest your breasts,” Oliver replied chuckling with obvious amusement as he gently fondled the black girl’s massive jugs. “However, I’m pretty sure Dinah’s just fine about carrying C-cups at a table rich with D-cups and with one girl sporting massive double-D’s. Even if she wasn’t fine with it…it wouldn’t matter…I’m pretty sure I’ll be taking her home tonight…breastless.”

“You’re going to kill my melons momentarily, and then harvest your girlfriend’s breast bacon later, Ollie?” Simone asked with astonishment obvious in her voice. “I heard that mostly females had balloon-popping fixations. Obviously…it’s not just a female fet…OH!!! I just entered my final booth minute and my orgasmatron’s activated…please…walk away…let me enjoy the end of my first…and I promise…only…debreasting booth stint…Ollie!”

“No…I’ll be watching someone else flatten Dinah’s chest…and more, Simone,” Oliver replied with evident disconcertment. “I doubt I’ll…I hope I don’t…enjoy watching that being done to her…despite the fact I hope we both enjoy your debreasting experience. I’ll let you enjoy the pleasure beams without pain for a few more seconds, Simone,” Oliver said softly as he stared at the computer screen next to the opaque window above the cooing black girl’s quivering DD-cups, “before I press your red debreast button and doom you big melons to be harvested via double-cut lasers set on dead slow. No blood…that’s sensible…but I wish you’d been a little less sensible about the docking and declitting sub-options.”

“HOLY HECK!” Hank Pym spat with obvious excitement in his voice and glee in his eyes as he watched the blonde and redhead kick as they slowly sank towards the floor as thin wire nooses tightened around and sliced into their C-cups. “This is way cool. When we get home, Janet, I’m going to want to hang you by your tits!”

“Maybe I’ll let you do just that, honey buns,” Janet Van Dyne replied giggling as she glanced from her grinning husband and the dangling girls back to debreasting booth 5, “for a short time with rope while you imagine its razor wire biting into my breast bases. I think my breasts’ connecting tissue can take my weight for a while. However, right now, I’m more interested in Oliver and the DD’s he’s manhandling. That girl’s in her final booth minute judging from her gasps and sighs of pleasure. It looks like our archery loving friend HAS decided to let the girl escape with her big breasts intact.”

“You can close your mouth now, Hank,” Wanda chortled as first the redhead and then the blonde dropped to the floor accompanied by the plop, plop, plop, plop sound of severed breasts also landing on the floor. “That part of the entertainment is over, and Diana will soon be rejoining us with her own monster breasts still on her chest. Tricia’s removing those nooses around her purpled breasts now. I hope this hasn’t resulted in your having a breast suspension fixation. I really don’t think you want to let your wife do that for you. You could easily ruin her chest ornaments permanently!”

“If Janet still has tits to hang her by after we get home, Wanda,” Zatanna said chuckling loudly as she watched Wonder Woman jump down from the balance beam and hurry over to the Bacon Risker box where her swimsuit rested on the floor while the blonde sisters busied themselves with mopping the floor and wiping down the balance beam after bandaging breastless chests. “We’re doing three debreasting booth stints each tonight, remember, and I doubt any of us will win all three games. Equipment failure might make this night a permanent nightmare for one or more of us. Hi, Diana, well jousted! I’ll bet those big purple breasts of yours are complaining about their mistreatment.”

“Thank you, Zatanna,” Princess Diana replied grinning as she reclaimed her seat wearing only her bottoms and took a long pull from her Lactic Blaster. “My breasts do indeed tingle as if pins and needles covered their skin, which is why I left my top off. They are in need of much massaging. What is happening?”

“Oliver is playing the booth game, Diana,” Sue replied softly as she stared out at booth 5, “and it looks like he’s going to let his potential victim escape the game with her balloons full of air. She’s climaxing during what must surely be the last few seconds of her final booth minute. Also…watch out…Hank’s reaching over to help with your breast massages!”

Dinah laughed as she watched Wonder Woman slap away the right hand of Hank Pym as it hovered above her left purpled breast and then proclaimed excitedly, “NO! Ollie’s not going to let the rich girl escape with her balloons unpopped! He’s reaching for the red debreast button beside those dark-skinned DD’s!”

“As I said before, you are a sensible girl, Simone,” Oliver Queen said nodding to the opaque window of booth 5 while wearing a friendly smile on his face. “It wouldn’t make sense to choose a bloodless debreasting method if you were going to allow your nipples to get snipped off first with a docking tube, and I certainly understand why you weren’t willing to see your sex life pretty much end as you got your clitoris extirpated. While either sub-option would have provided me with new experiences, I’ll happily settle for popping my first pair of breast balloons…a most lovely and perfect set of soft-skinned, dark-chocolate-colored double-D’s. Thank you, Simone!” The Green Arrow’s smile broadened and excitement filled his green eyes as he slowly reached upwards with his right hand.

“No…WAIT!” Simone spat desperately between sighs of climax as she watched the handsome bearded man reach for her booth’s red debreast button, and then heard the clicking sound that meant her fate was sealed. “Damn…you really know how to break a girl’s heart, Ollie. There were only three seconds left on my timer when you slapped my button. I almost made it out of this bacon trap intact!”

Simone cooed softly and then gasped loudly in pleasure as she felt the orgasmatron emitter between her spread legs step up the intensity of the pleasure beams bathing her sex, and then panted, “Oh, well! Most every girl…ends up donating…eventually. There are worse ways to get your bacon harvested…than standing over an orgasm inducer…with a handsome man…pampering a girl’s breasts. Pamper…Oliver!”

“Yes, Simone,” Oliver Queen replied softly as he gently fingered the soft undersides of the breasts he had just doomed to a painful death, his smile still present, but now obviously forced, “I imagine there ARE worse ways to suffer debreasting. Sorry about waiting until the very last second to accept these luscious melons of yours as donations to this nightclub’s kitchen. I was hoping the added tension will make this experience more memorable for both of us. I can tell from the way your nipples are turreted, that you’re finding the prospect of getting your balloons popped sexually arousing. I’ll do my best to increase that arousal…and the size of your turrets now!” The Green Arrow bent his head forward and took Simone’s right nipple in his mouth—he smiled as his suckling brought a coo of pleasure followed by the staccato sigh of climax.

“YES!” Janet squealed with obvious excitement, unable to hide her emotions despite being all too aware that the girl in booth 5’s tablemates could hear her. “Oliver Queen is about to join the debreasting club! I wonder which debreasting method that girl has chosen to get her puppies knocked off with?”

“You’ll find out momentarily, Janet, so do try to contain yourself,” Wanda hissed with obvious irritation as she glared at her best friend who was again bouncing on her chair. “I’m sure Oliver is about to have an interesting experience, which we at this table will find most entertaining, but the girl in the booth may not be so happy about getting those big breasts turned into sandwich meat. I doubt she is a willing donator seeing as she snuck into the Game room under the cover of Diana’s Balance Beam Joust match.”

“Poor girl!” Sue sighed softly. “She’s probably heartbroken. Oliver waited until her booth stint was nearly over…until she had nearly escaped the bacon trap intact after a free orgasmatron treatment…before slapping her debreast button and dooming her big boobies. That was cruel of our tablemate! At least Oliver seems to be enthusiastically pleasuring the girl’s breasts now.”

“Yeah…he is, isn’t he,” Dinah replied grumpily with a frown on her face. “A little too enthusiastically if you ask me! If he sucks on those nipples any harder, he’s likely to get milk! He’s never paid that much attention to my tits!”

“Dinah, if you let Ollie debreast YOU, I’m sure your C-cups will receive even more breast worshipping than those big DD’s are getting,” Hank Pym chortled jovially. “Better yet, let me be the one who slaps your debreast button, and I’ll make Janet jealous of the attention I’ll be giving your fair-skinned ta tas! Just teasing girls…I remember rule number one. We don’t get to debreast tablemates. However, speaking of breasts, are you sure you wouldn’t like my help in rubbing the circulation back into yours, Princess?”

“No thanks, friend Hank,” Diana of Themyscira replied with a broad grin and a hearty chuckle. “I would prefer not to break your arms in response to your unneeded helping. Besides, the tingling is gone now and my breasts nearly back to their natural color. Be not jealous, friend Dinah, for I am sure your Oliver is merely trying to obey proper debreasting booth etiquette, as Janet and Zatanna taught us all, and pleasure the fruit he is about to harvest.”

“It’s not the trying that’s bugging me, Diana,” Dinah replied softly, her frown slowly changing to a grin, “it’s Ollie’s enthusiasm. Still, I take Hank’s point. When we get back home, Ollie and I can role play, pretending I’m in the booth instead of the rich bitch. Then he better darn well get milk from my tits! Would you really have liked to be the one who carves off my tits, Hank…if the rules had permitted it…?”

“Ahhhh…no…actually I would not have, Dinah,” Hank Pym replied blushing badly, “especially if you chose knife as the debreasting method. That’s a little too hands on for me! The idea of debreasting someone does turn me on…and kind of makes me sick…at the same time. Obviously, I find watching it being done to strangers to be pretty cool. I’m going to give what Ollie is presently doing a go too…sometime soon…just not with someone I know in the booth…unless it’s Janet…or Wanda…or Princ…oh HELL…just not with a knife!” Hank’s blush deepened as the girls around him burst into laughter.

“Well, at least you’re being honest, lover boy,” Janet chirped happily, “and being normal as well. You may be interested to know that we girls feel similarly about both watching debreastings AND doing the balloon popping…and about putting our own breasts at risk as well. The mixed emotions are part of the roller coaster ride that makes our visits to Final Fantasy so fascinating. Speaking of fascinating…is that a red glow I see at the top of booth 5’s debreasting portals?”

“Indeed it is, Janet,” Wanda replied softly. “Those chocolate-colored breasts are going to be sliced off by a laser beam descending downward at a dead slow speed.”

“Laser beams, Wanda, rising upward as well as descending downward,” Sue interjected softly with a knowing grin. “There is a red glow coming from below the portals too. The girl inside the booth has chosen the double-cut option to get a higher orgasmatron beam setting. Very sensible decision! Didn’t you say you’re going to select laser beam when you do your first booth stint, Dinah?” Sue’s grin broadened as the ponytailed blonde nodded, and proclaimed, “Then, Dinah, you’re about to witness the bloodless murder your own C-cups might later be subjected to!”

Oliver Queen pulled his mouth off of the left turgid nipple he had been sucking on and straightened up to look into the opaque window as he teased the bottom of the dark-skinned DD-cups with his fingers, and admitted, “Damn it sounds like your having fun in there, Simone. If I had to guess based on sighs alone, you must have climaxed a half-dozen times by now. Can you tell…in there…where the laser beams are…relative to the bases of your breasts?”

“Yes…I have been enjoying myself, Ollie,” Simone admitted softly as she stared into the face of the handsome bearded man on the other side of her one-way window. “I’ve lost track of my cums…but can tell I’ve made a mess of my inner thighs. No…with my chest cinched tightly against the front wall of this booth…I can’t really see downward very well. I can see…or at least sense…the red glow from the laser slicers…but can’t tell how close…. A lot of time has passed since you hit my debreast button. Even with the dead slow speed setting…they must be close to my…! Are you trying to warn me…that pain will soon mix with…? Can you see the laser beams, Ollie? Is it time…?”

“Yes, sweet Simone,” Oliver replied with a raspy voice. “I can see the upper laser beam…and the glow from the lower one. The beams are very thin…but about to reach skin. I thought it best to warn you…. I’m truly sorry that you’re about to get hurt…and that it’s time….”

“Then tug on my nipples, Oliver…you stupid oaf!” Simone chided urgently. “If a girl has to have her breast bacon harvested, she wants to make sure none of it is wasted by being left on her chest. Make sure all of me is on your side of the laser beams before they begin burning through my knockers. Can you do that for me, Ollie?”

“Yes, Simone, I can do that, in a few seconds” the man known as Green Arrow replied dryly with confusion in his gleaming green eyes, “although I really don’t see why it’s so important to make sure every gram of meat makes it to the kitchen. Wouldn’t it be better if I pleasured your breasts with my mouth and hands…while they’re still…?”

“Breasts, Ollie?” Simone interjected with obvious disdain. “You don’t seem to understand! Human meat…as a food resource…IS precious to the very last gram. My beautiful breasts are priceless. Treat them so! The medic at the instant-care facility I will soon be visiting will need to carefully clean away any tissue remaining above chest muscle before he gives me my skin grafts. Tug on my nipples, Ollie! Stretch my boobies out for harvesting! Don’t worry about my pleasure…the orgasmatron beams will increase in intensity…when…. When…it starts!”

“Easy, Simone,” Oliver Queen replied while flashing his most reassuring smile toward the booth window, “I understand and I’ve got you covered. When I tug…you might want to take a big breath and hold it.” Oliver glanced back downward at the big doomed breasts, grabbed a nipple in between the thumbs and forefingers of each hand, and tugged firmly but gently outward distending the big orbs of flesh. There was a slight sizzling sound as laser beam touched skin, a shrill scream, and then the loud staccato sigh of intense sexual climax.

“’Tis strange…this mixture of pain and pleasure that friend Bill’s venue offers woman-kind,” Diana observed as she watched her teammate stretch breasts and listened to the sound of intense sexual climax mixed with unimaginable agony and hopeless remorse. “Does the sweet ecstasy of orgasm really make the risk of pain and loss accompanying the harvesting of breasts a worthy gamble?”

“Does the thrill of combat and warm glow of satisfaction that comes with victorious jousting make the cruel agony of breast suspension followed by debreasting via razor wire nooses a worthwhile penalty for losing a game, Diana?” Wanda asked softly as she waved for Kaori to come to their table. “For every risk, there is a prize that makes that risk worth taking. It’s the way the prize is won that varies in this case…and not the risk. I think that in both games, the debreasting booth game and the Balance Beam Joust game, it’s the thrill of winning the gamble that is the real prize most of these girls seek. Remember, in this society, most girls have their number entered into The Lottery every week, and their lives gambled against their meat, until eventually their lives are taken as they lose The Lottery and become meat.”

Wanda smiled at Diana and then turned to look up at Kaori as she reached their table. “Could we get another round of drinks for the table, Kaori? As I can see you are dressed, I would guess you are now backup head waitress. Congratulations, Kaori!”

“Aye, let us have another round of drinks for the table, faithful waitress, plus six more drinks for me!” Princess Diana chortled gleefully. “I must down one extra drink for each victory I celebrate in the Balance Beam Joust game. In this way I make the gamble more worthwhile for the girls I joust against, and the likelihood that my tablemates will have the pleasure of seeing my chest flattened greater!”

“Thanks, Miss Wanda! Yes, Miss Diana, I’ll have another round of drinks for the table plus six additional Lactic Blasters for you over here right away,” Kaori replied pleasantly, and then nodded to a tan-clad girl who had been standing behind the reserved table and was now hurrying away. “I must say, Miss, that I admire your great boldness in announcing your drinking game to the room. I suspect you will now have no trouble in attracting jousting opponents. That girl is part of the Phi Gamma Phi sorority. Beware! She and her sisters may change their strategy in view of the knowledge they have just gained.”

Diana shrugged as Kaori hurried away, and admitted somewhat sheepishly, “No matter. If I am to lose a joust, lose I will, and I will find no malice in any joy you, my tablemates, get from watching my debreasting. I will enjoy the thrill of combat for as long as it lasts. In truth, I find the matches more even than I imagined, so be not surprised that I enter the Bacon Risker box less often than every ten minutes as I seek to enjoy the evening between bouts. Now…never mind that. I must tell you, friend Wanda, that I had not realized how wise a philosopher you are. Your words ring with great truth when it comes to the reasons a girl might gamble her assets, but they also call out against injustice and for the need for change.”

“One constant in the universe, Diana, is that change is always in the wind,” Wanda Maximoff, the Scarlet Witch, said softly with a knowing look on her comely face and a gleam in her gold-flecked blue eyes. “Who can say what role any particular girl might play in bringing about that change as her fate blows here and there within those winds of change. Know that I do not hide from fate. Not here tonight, as some of us endure pain as we lose our breasts in gambles no girl at this table would take save for a piece of equipment in a laboratory back home. Not a week from Wednesday night, when fate again demands my presence here…in this city…for yet another reason.”

“Not your presence, Wanda, ours,” Janet interjected softly. “Sue, Zatanna, and myself are with you in this, although I for one am going to feel really creeped out when Tricia tells me when is Wednesday twelve days from now when she tells me where. Never mind…I’ll explain later. Now enough with all this philosophizing and let me enjoy watching Oliver pop a pair of balloons!” With faces filled with confusion, Janet’s tablemates joined her in returning their attention to Green Arrow’s once unthinkable game.

“How are you doing in there Simone?” Oliver Queen asked with genuine concern in his voice as he stared into the darkened window and tugged on turgid nipples. “Is the pain subsiding? Your gasps…seem…less troubled….

“I’m doing…fine, Oliver,” Simone replied softly and then sighed as a pulse of sexual ecstasy flooded through her loins. “However, no…the pain is not subsiding. My agony…will be continually increasing…as the slicing laser beams…burn towards the nerve-rich cores…of the breasts…being harvested. How deep…are my wounds…Oliver?”

“About an inch, Simone,” Oliver replied, genuine concern becoming obvious regret in his quivering voice, “but they are very thin and bloodless wounds…not ugly at all. I’m sorry…for your pain…Simone. On this dead slow speed setting…this is going to take…a while. I wish…it was faster….”

“You are a man…Oliver…and I’m…a girl,” Simone gasped out in short bursts as she struggled to maintain her composure. “A man…should never be sorry…for harvesting a girl’s…meat…and a girl…makes the best…of life…even as her meat…is harvested. Don’t be…sorry…for me! I’m getting…the biggest cum…of my life! I’m enjoying…my…debreasting…as every girl…should. That…joy…is greater…because the…slow speed setting…I chose…brings…more intense…pleasure beams. Don’t be…sorry…Oliver. Enjoy the boon…of harvesting…my large…and perfect…breasts. Take pleasure…in being the one…who got to pop…my big balloons!”

“I’ll do that, Simone,” the 21^st Century hero replied as he forced his mouth into a reassuring smile, “if you’ll concentrate on those pleasure beams. You can be proud…of the way…your taking this…the way…your playing this game. I will be grateful…that I was the one…you allowed to…take possession of…these lovely melons…I know you are…so proud of.”

“Then demonstrate…your gratefulness…Oliver,” Simone stammered softly, her voice still rich and sultry, “when are…becomes were…by giving me…one last look…at my perfect breasts…after they come free of my chest…before the booth attendant…pulls me…breastless…away from behind this window. Now…be quite…I need to…cum again…as my balloons are getting…popped…!

The Green Arrow smiled as he heard the staccato sigh of climax being issued from a brave girl in a 41^st Century debreasting booth. ‘What a strange world,’ the emerald archer thought as his gleaming green eyes stared down at the tender flesh he was tugging on, ‘where a man gets thanked for giving a girl pain, and can still be a hero even as he steals her chest ornaments. I’ll be damned for feeling good about this, but, what the hell, I’m going to enjoy this vacation from my 21^st Century moral handcuffs. This dark beauty won’t be the last girl thanking me this evening, for doing something I would normally deem dastardly!’

“Halfway popped,” Janet Van Dyne exclaimed with obvious excitement as she bounced on her chair and stared unblinkingly out at booth 5’s debreasting portals, “wouldn’t you say, Sue? I can’t wait to watch Oliver heft those big jugs into the air!”

“Yes, Janet, I would guess that the lasers are about halfway done with their breast slicing,” Sue replied softly, a sheepish grin on her face. “I must say...I still find it strange…to enjoy watching another girl getting herself maimed. At least this girl is demonstrating great decorum in the way she is accepting her breasts being slowly rendered asunder. It is bravery such as this that makes me proud to be a woman, and gives me hope for this world.”

“Yes, many of these girls demonstrate great courage in the face of incredible adversity,” Wanda admitted while nodding gently, “and this young lady is one of them. As you did, Sue, on our first visit to Final Fantasy, she is setting a high standard for how we should behave when it is our turn to surrender our breasts to this nightclub’s kitchen.”

“If, not when, Wanda,” Zatanna corrected with disdain evident in her voice. “Some of us are still planning…hoping at least…to go home whole. However, you’re right about the example she is setting if our hopes get dashed. Whining about losing an ill-advised gamble is poor form for anyone.”

“I’ll do my best to take the pain I plan to have heaped on my breasts bravely, girls,” Dinah spat as she giggled softly. “I admit that I’m not one of the girls hoping to go home whole. I didn’t volunteer to come to a debreasting booth club so that I could return home breasted. If I don’t manage to get my balloons popped, I’m going to feel like a loser. Does that make me mentally ill…or something?”

“No, wanting to experience something new, even if it means accepting agony, doesn’t mean you’re sick,” Sue replied softly with a reassuring smile. “The chances are pretty high that you will get your wish to experience debreasting, Dinah, likely along with some of your tablemates. Personally, I really, really, want to go home breasted. However, I have less trouble with playing the game from inside the booth, and losing, than I do with playing the game on the kitchen side of the booths.”

“Well Dinah has already gotten past that challenge, Sue, and seemed to enjoy it” Janet exclaimed as she laughed at the reddening faces of both blondes. “Sue’s right, Dinah, wanting to experience something new, but horribly painful, doesn’t make you mentally ill. It makes you a pain slut, and I plan on proving that I’m the queen of pain sluts myself tonight. I just hope my husband can stomach watching me do the proving!”

“I’ll manage, Janet,” Hank Pym replied again wearing his silly grin. “I didn’t pay the steep price I paid for my ticket to this establishment without hoping I would get to see some, if not all, of you girls pay a similar price. However, darling, while I hope to see you get yourself debreasted…maybe even declitted…for making me pay that price, I don’t want you to do anything that might cost you your life. I DO love you dearly!”

“’Tis a strange place you bring us to, friend Wanda, where one girl wants to keep her breasts so long as she need not take another girl’s, yet two other girls want to lose their breasts in painful fashion, while one of those girl’s husband proclaims his love at the same time he admits he hopes he will get to see her sexually nullified,” Princess Diana chortled while chuckling heartily. “A strange place indeed, for I must admit that toppling girls from a narrow perch so that they would suffer first breast suspension and then debreasting made me wet, and that I yearn to be wet again!”

“A strange place indeed, Diana,” Wanda replied with an ear-to-ear grin. “And a truly wonderful one as well, don’t you think? Drink your drinks before giving into your yearnings, brave warrior woman, and join us in taking in the look on Oliver Queen’s face as he pops a pair of breast balloons. Drink your drinks, my big-breasted friend, before you rejoin your jousting game yearning to send more girls to the floor breastless. Just remember, some of your tablemates, the males at least, have yearnings of their own!” Wanda Maximoff grinned happily as her table laughed jovially as they watched their bearded tablemate play an unusual game.

“You’re doing fantastic, Simone!” Oliver Queen said with a happy grin on his face as he looked up from the dark-skinned DD-cups he was tugging on to stare out to where he imagined the sultry beauty’s brown eyes stared back. “The laser beams look to be within an inch of each other, so you don’t have much longer before your suffering ends. Not that you don’t seem to be taking the pain quite well. The pleasure beams must be quite intense!”

“They are, Ollie,” Simone replied softly with incredible calmness in view of circumstances, “and thank you for the compliment…as well as the information. In truth…it’s been hard to distinguish…pain from pleasure…the last few minutes. Still…I would just as soon…see you holding my big breasts…before my face…meaning my game is over…and I’m a free…though no longer breasted…woman. Have you come…to enjoy…this game…Ollie?”

“I have, Simone,” Oliver admitted sheepishly as he grinned and nodded. “Not the pain you’re suffering, of course. However, I’m finding that poaching a girl’s breasts right off of her chest is a real turn on. Thank you, Simone, for letting me be the one to get to harvest your big melons.”

“You are…most welcome, Oliver,” Simone replied softly. “Let’s not…either of us…feel badly about this. We both need to understand…perfect double D’s…don’t last long…hanging out of…debreasting booth portals. If it wasn’t you…popping my big balloons…Ollie…it would have likely been…someone else. I’m glad…it was…you! How much…longer?”

Oliver glanced down and wiggled the turgid nipples up and down, noting how loose the chocolate-colored breasts were on the quivering girl’s chest before urging, “Hold yourself together for another thirty seconds, Simone. Then you’ll be able to see…to know…the game’s over. Please do live a happy life…after this…won’t you? Don’t volunteer to be spitted…right away…okay?”

“I’ll be fine…Ollie,” Simone gasped, with a hint of desperation in her voice. “I promise…I won’t…get spitted…at least until Gabrielle turns 18…and is safe…from the inevitable…culling of my daughters…that will follow…my conversion…to meat. I’m going to…cum again…Ollie…as my big balloons…get popped. Don’t forget to show meeeee….ggaaagh…uhuh…uhhuuuuuuh….YYyyeeeeaaaah!”

Oliver Queen felt the girl strapped in the booth buck and gasp in climax via the sensations transmitted through her big breasts to her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, and then those sensations abruptly ended in mid staccato sigh as the heavy fleshy orbs pulled downward on his arms and he heard booth restraints snap open. A surprised, yet thoroughly aroused, Green Arrow slowly hefted the two massive breasts upward by turreted nipples and held them before the booth window as the audience cheered.

The dark beauty within booth 5, now sporting two circular cauterized wounds where breasts once protruded, stood still and silent for the better part of a minute, despite the urgings of the booth attendant, staring at the dark-chocolate-colored appendages. Then she whispered in a sultry bedroom voice, “Those are nice big perfect breasts, Ollie. They look lovely, but they belong in the kitchen. Please do enjoy their meat!”

Chapter 12. Sorority Game

“Was I wearing such a stupid, dumbfounded look on my face when I carried Debbie’s breasts to the kitchen, Zatanna?” Dinah asked giggling loudly as she shook her head from side to side while she watched her bearded boyfriend finally reach the food-ordering counter.

“Well sort of but not quite, Dinah,” Zatanna replied with a soft chuckle. “Your dumbfounded look included a grin of jubilant victory when you carried her boobs to the kitchen counter.” The raven-haired Justice Leaguer nodded to the breastless Debbie, now standing with Barbara and Francheska just outside the Game room door, and then back to the bearded hero talking to Kaori. “Oliver’s face holds more astonishment as he contemplates the massive breasts in his hands that he’s about to turn into sandwich meat.”

“Well those are…were…pretty big ta tas, Zatanna,” Henry Pym interjected with a silly grin on his own face. “Nothing compared to Won…Diana’s…massive jugs, but definitely big lunkers when it comes to debreasting booth angling. Hey there, Ollie, we’ve been talking about you…and that grin of self-satisfaction you’re wearing on your face. Have fun?”

“Yeah, I heard, and yes I did, Hank,” Oliver Queen replied as he walked around the do-gooder’s table to stand behind his chair. “You girls do know people can hear what you’re saying out at the food-ordering counter, don’t you, Dinah and Zatanna? Dumbfounded look my ass! Keep talking about me that way and I’ll see one or both of you ride one of those Jessica machines.”

The table erupted with laughter as both Zatanna and Dinah blushed badly before Diana chortled, “Make not idle threats, friend Oliver, for we all know it will be flesh and not steel penetrating Dinah’s womanhood at her night’s end. Besides, you WERE wearing a dumbfounded smirk of satisfaction on your face as you carried yon ebony beauty’s bounteous bosom to the kitchen.” Princess Diana nodded to Simone, now wearing a pair of round white chest bandages above her dress shorts as she hugged her friends before the quartet started back towards their table where Bill Jennings remained sitting.

“I suppose you’re right, Diana,” Oliver replied with a twinkle in his eyes, “about the look on my face as well as Dinah’s night’s end. However, the satisfied smirk on my face had as much to do with the classy lady I played my game with as it did with the lovely breasts I was given the honor of harvesting.” The Green Arrow smiled as the ebony beauty paused in her journey back to her table to flash him a sultry grin and give him a quick hug, before dropping her halter top into a trash can and retaking her seat.

Oliver Queen grinned sheepishly as he pulled his attention away from the breastless black girl and retook his own seat as he chortled, “Yes, the debreasting booth game is fun to play, evidently for both players. Thanks for discovering this place, Wanda! Now, Diana, having noted the satisfaction a bounteous bosom can bring to a player’s face as they carry the big boobs away from a girl’s chest to the nearby kitchen, don’t you yearn to see the look your massive wrack will surely engender by your playing the debreasting booth game…from inside the Game room?”

“Yeah, Princess, what would it take to get you to scrape your monster ta tas through a pair of debreasting portals?” Hank Pym chortled with a silly grin on his face as he let his imagination run wild. “Rule number one is going to get broken, girls, if we talk Diana into it!”

The table broke into nervous laughter as Wonder Woman lifted her still uncovered breasts, one in the palm of each hand, and asked derisively, “You would wish to see these breasts harvested, Henry Pym, were I able to thrust them through yon tiny portals? Mayhap you should let another do the dire deed, for the price you would pay for the boon of harvesting this flesh would be steep…as you have already shown yourself willing to pay…and, I would see to it, permanent.”

As the blonde scientist’s face paled, Wonder Woman laughed and chided, “As I thought, friend Henry, you instead choose to see if I will suffer a misstep in the Balance Beam Joust game.” The raven-haired Amazon quickly drained another glass of Lactic Blaster, her fourth of the night, with four full glasses still on the table in front of her, before putting her bikini top back on and admitting, “In truth, standing meekly in one of those booths and waiting for another to decide the fate of my bosom does not seem particularly thrilling to me, although I’m sure others find it so. I COULD see myself doing so, however. I would suffer such should Clark and Bruce pay the steep price of being brought here for my entertainment, and if that hussy Lois Lane agreed to come with us and play the booth game as well. I would take much joy in seeing her smaller breasts ruined before making her see mine protruding through yon portals!”

“Cool!” Dinah spat jovially, relishing the thought of seeing Superman and Batman strapped into penis guillotines. “I’ll talk the boys into it! We can even suspend rule number one for that night, Diana. That way you can be the one ruining Lois’s tits, and the rest of us can draw straws to see who gets to pop your monster balloons!”

As the table laughed loudly, Oliver grinned and chortled, “That’s my Dinah! However, you’re not going to be there, sweetheart, if it does ever happen. As we agreed, we’re going to try to get your boobs busted tonight, and then never return. Besides, I don’t think Wanda would suspend rule number one regardless of the occasion. Who is playing the booth game next, and is it going to be from the inside or outside of the Game room?”

“Yeah, well I guess his question goes for our table as well,” Francheska grumbled loudly from her seat a few feet away. “I guess I might as well get it over with. I agreed to play the game earlier, and I won’t go back on my word despite the fact those guys seem to have it in for us girls at this table. I’ll play from inside the booth. I’m no bastard bacon hunter!”

“You might want to hold off for a few minutes, Miss… Francheska isn’t it?” Wanda Maximoff interjected softly while nodding towards two tables of five near the door to the barbecue pits. “The girls at those two tables, all dressed in pink gym shorts and tube tops, have been taking turns rolling a die while pointing at the debreasting booths. Let’s enjoy our drinks while we see what kind of game they’re up to. Besides, it isn’t a given that one of us wants to play the debreasting booth game just now and with you, even if I admit your B-cups are very appealing.”

Francheska looked quite taken aback as she stared at Wanda and then out at the tables of girls who were now writing on slips of paper, before replying, “Yeah…they are up to something…aren’t they. I guess I can wait to get my breasts poached. You going to be the one to do me, Red…when I do take a booth?”

“Wanda,” Wanda replied softly, “and probably not, Francheska. I doubt I’ll be playing the debreasting booth game from the kitchen side tonight. As I said before, no one at this table has claimed dibs on you breast bacon…yet at least. If you take a booth, though, you are offering to make a donation to this establishment’s kitchen. If you play the booth game, someone might accept that donation. As the sign on the Game room door says, ‘Is This Your Lucky Night?’”

“Yeah, the sign does say that, doesn’t it, Wanda?” Francheska replied with a shy grin on her face. “Trouble is, a girl can never figure out whether that sign means it’s lucky to play the game and get a free orgasmatron beam treatment, leaving the booth with the equipment that will let you play the game again, or it’s your lucky night to make your donation to the worldwide food chain!”

“I always assumed the former, Francheska,” Wanda replied wearing a friendly smile, “but now that you mention it…I think I was wrong. Look, both of those tables of girls are headed towards the Game room door! I bet one table or the other gets to fill ‘The Wall’. This could be interesting!”

“I hope so!” Francheska replied with a wide smile. “Thanks for being friendly, Wanda.”

“Ditto!” Simone interjected laughing, and then nodded at Kaori as she delivered a fresh round of sandwiches. “Now stop talking and enjoy your Simone sandwich, girl, while we all try to figure out what those sorority sisters are up to. You too, Ollie! And don’t you dare offer to share. I already know I taste scrumptious without tasting myself!”

Oliver Queen grinned at Simone, shrugged his shoulders, took a big bite of sandwich, and then made a show of moaning with delight before turning his attention to the Game room door. “Hey, what are they up to now?” the emerald archer asked as the two groups of foxy girls faced each other.

“The redhead from the table to our right just rolled a die, Oliver, and the Oriental girl from the other table is preparing to do the same,” Sue replied softly as she examined her own sandwich filling. “If Wanda is right…and thanks for remembering to make mine vegetarian again, by the way…whichever girl loses the dice roll will lead her tablemates into the Game room.”

“Yep!” Janet squealed excitedly as she pointed at the double group of girls, “and from the look on the Oriental girl’s face, she lost the roll. There they go through the door. This is different!”

“Indeed, but I’ll bet the on-duty waitresses are the ones most pleased about seeing those empty debreasting portals filled!” Zatanna replied chuckling. “Maybe the winning table is going to debreast the losing table! Wouldn’t it blow to doom your entire table’s breasts with an unlucky dice roll?”

“I don’t think it’s that cut and dried, Zatanna,” Hank Pym observed with excitement in his eyes. “Those girls didn’t act like their fate was sealed when they entered the room. Something tells me the gambling has just begun. Damn these sandwiches are good, but I don’t think the melanin makes much difference. What do you think, Dinah?”

“I think your right, my scientist friend,” Dinah replied with a laugh, “both in saying that the sandwiches are great, and that melanin content isn’t a major factor. Oh well…I had to find out. As a pale-skinned girl, I’ll take comfort in knowing I’ll taste fine when it’s my tits that bite the dust. Hey…this is different…the booth windows are all transparent!”

“Indeed, friend Dinah,” Princess Diana agreed nodding, “it seems we will be able to see the pain on the face of any girl in this game who suffers debreasting. It is as it should be! What are those beeping sounds? What is the meaning of all this?”

“It means that all five girls have left their fates to the kitchen-side players’ whimsies!” Wanda replied with a knowing grin. “The booth controls on this side of the debreasting booths have been activated, presumably with timers running along with window transparencies set two-way. One or more of those girls is likely going to have her debreasting options set for her. Watch and listen!”

“Okay, girls, we won thanks to my fantastic roll, so Toni’s table had to take the booths first,” the redhead chortled with jubilation on her face as she grinned at her tablemates. “Now we roll the die to see if any of us get to poach the bacon off one of our sorority sisters from Toni’s table.” The C-cupped redhead grinned at the five girls behind the transparent booth windows and chirped, “Don’t fret yet girls, there are still three chances that we girls out here will return to our table with your chests still intact. Of course, you’re all still stuck in those bacon traps for ten minute booth stints even if we get unlucky. Then it will be our turn…if any of you leave the booths breasted!”

Turning back to her tablemates, the redhead laughingly pointed out, as she held the die in her open hand, “We all drew numbers back at our table. I drew 1 which is why I got to be the one rolling for booth-stint position, and get to roll to see which, if any of us, gets to continue the game. The girl whose number gets rolled will be the one having the chance to do some balloon popping. If I role a 6, we all sit down. Here goes!” The redhead shook the oversized die between her two hands, and then dropped it on the floor.

“FOUR!” the lone brunette on the dance floor, a slender girl with C-cups yelled triumphantly, her brown eyes gleaming with excitement as her long tresses bounced as she jumped with joy. “Unless you girls in the booths get real lucky, I’m going to get to pop one of my sister’s balloons! Isn’t that right, Della?”

“Yep, that’s right, Cassandra,” the redhead replied as she bent and picked up the die. “You’re the lucky girl and get to do the die rolling now. First you roll to see who gets her bacon poached. Once again…if you role a 6…we five sit back down.”

“Not happening!” Cassandra spat forcefully as she took the die from Della. “It’s going to be less than 6 pointing at the ceiling…I know it. The question is, is it going to be a 1, and Toni’s B-cups,” Cassandra stepped before booth 1 and tweaked the slim, long-haired Oriental girl’s nipples, one at a time, and then stepped sideways and did the same for each girl in turn as she continued with, “a 2, and Candice’s C-cups,” as she stared into the blonde in booth 2’s brown eyes, “a 3, and Shirah’s B-cups,” as she stuck her tongue out at a the short-haired black girl in booth 3, “a 4, and Lucy’s A-cups,” as she grinned at a long-haired redhead in booth 4, “or a 5, and Sonya’s D-cups,” as she winked at a brown-eyed Latino behind booth 5’s window, “that I get to turn into sandwich meat. And the number is…” Cassandra grinned as she shook the die and tossed it onto the dance floor.

“CRAP!” came from the redhead in booth 4 as she saw the boxcar on the floor pointing toward the ceiling when the die stopped bouncing. “My tits are history if Cassandra doesn’t make a 6 on the next die roll!”

“That’s right, Lucy,” Della replied to her fellow redhead, her green eyes filled with interest and Lucy’s blue eyes with concern, “the next role determines what options Cassandra has to set on the debreasting booth controls. You five in the booths all wrote out debreasting booth control options and put the number of the booth you drew on slips of paper, while we were at our tables just as the girls from my table did. Now we will determine who at your table’s fantasy gets made real using your breasts as cannon fodder, Lucy. Unless it’s a 6 pointing toward the ceiling, naturally…then my table sits down and waits for you girls’ booth stints to end. Roll, Cassandra!”

“You got it, Della,” Cassandra chortled happily. “Just don’t let it be a 6, because I really am hoping to get to ruin Lucy’s little A-cups for her!” Cassandra shook and then tossed the die to the dance floor.

“Just don’t let it be three in a row!” the blue-eyed redhead yelled with obvious desperation as the die bounced and spun. “Give me a 6…or at least anything but a 4…NO!”

“FOUR!” Cassandra chortled gloatingly. “You get your own debreasting booth options, Lucy. We all knew it would likely be some other girl that would draw for debreasting options, so some of us may have wrote out what we wanted to see happen to our sister’s boobies rather than what we wanted for our own balloon popping if we got unlucky. From your reaction, Lucy, I’d say you were hoping to pick a spectacular booth stint for some other girl to survive. Will you read the options off, while I set the controls, Della?”

“Sure thing, Cassandra,” Della replied jovially as her chubby Amerindian tablemate handed her a slip of paper with a 4 on it. “Sorry, Lucy, but we got to play this fair, so try to keep yourself together. Debreasting method…OH MY…Wringer!” Della waited for a giggling Cassandra to pick the option from the computer’s dropdown menu, and then announced, “You need nipples for the Wringer to work right, so there isn’t a docking sub-option You can move onto the next screen Cassandra which is speed…medium.”

“This really blows, girls!” Lucy groaned loudly with a pout on her face. “Who could have guessed a girl could get her number rolled twice in a row, let alone three times. Oh well! My number was bound to come up in The Lottery sometime soon anyhow…and losing these A-cups may actually improve my meat grading!”

Della paused while the setting was selected and the window-transparency, which by prior agreement had already been set, auto-skipped, before continuing with, “OH MY GOD! Lucy wrote down ‘de-clit option yes’! I’m not fooling either…look!” Della showed the slip of paper to her tablemates and then Lucy. “Be ready, Cassandra, because the timer is already running, the other equipment will begin moving into position as soon as you set the de-clit opt…there’s the Wringer!”

The five sorority sisters on the dance floor stood with mouths agape as two chest-wide, slowly rotating, vertically stacked cylinders popped out of booth 4’s wall below the debreasting portals. Two vertical end brackets with rotating gears at the ends of the cylinders were attached to each other by a thin bar under the lower cylinder, and the thin bar was in turn attached in its center by a sliding bracket around a thin horizontal rod leading to the booth wall. This rod was attached to the booth wall in a vertical slot, allowing the rods vertical position to be adjusted just as the sliding bracket allowed the cylinder assemblies distance from the booth wall and tilt to be adjusted. Two airplane-yoke-like handles attached to the vertical end brackets facilitated the positioning of the cylinders by the kitchen-side player, and, as Cassandra took hold of the yoke, her tablemates returned to their chairs.

“Wringer?” Oliver Queen asked softly as he noticed most of the girls at his table seemed to be cupping breasts with hands or covering them with folded arms. “What sort of debreasting method is that?”

“Nasty, that’s what sort of debreasting method that is, I’d say!” Hank Pym replied softly, shaking his head in disbelief. “Assuming of course that it’s what I’m thinking it is. I had a relative, a great aunt or some such, that supposedly got injured that way in the 1950s. What? You rich boys never heard the phrases ‘get your tit in a wringer’ or ‘the most fun we had since grandma got her tit caught in the wringer’?”

“Just read your debreasting method menu, Oliver,” Sue said softly with a pallid face as she palmed the ends of her own breasts. “I’m sure Hank’s right, judging from the machinery being deployed. While, in some ways, the washing machine may have been the symbol of women’s emancipation from housekeeping as her sole choice for a career, the wringer that came with them often injured more than the fingers and hands of less careful women.”

“OH!” Oliver Queen spat as the realization dawned on him. “That kind of wringer it is. The menu says ‘kitchen-side player positions wringer against sow’s nipples, trapping nipples between inwardly rotating rollers - trapped nipples between rotating rollers cause wringer to be drawn toward sow’s chest squashing nipples and breasts and ultimately ripping breast skin and tissue from sow’s chest’. Ouchies! It says it’s a new method and the breasts are used to make frappes. That’s strange!”

“The breast pulp is blended with fruit and ice cream to make a delicious desert, Ollie,” Zatanna chuckled nervously behind folded arms. “You might notice there are several way’s on that list for a girl to actively participate in the sweet confection’s preparation. None of them strike my fancy, but this one really gives me the willies. Lucy too it seems…even though it’s supposedly from her own instructions. Look at her face!”

“Yeah, add this to the short list of things pain slut wants no part of!” Janet proclaimed emphatically, covering her own breasts as she saw the trepidation on the face of the redhead in booth 4. “However, I’m betting those small computer screens that just popped out of the booth wall and filled the upper right corner of her window aren’t adding to her comfort either. As unlikely as it might seem, it looks like you boys get to watch a 41^st Century declitting! Something else pain slut neither wanted nor wants any part of!”

“OOOoooohhHHHHA!” Lucy moaned softly as she struggled to divide her attention between the image on the small computer screen in the top left-hand corner of her booth window and the twin rollers Cassandra was positioning before her turgid brownish-pink nipples. “ICE HOT! The orgasmatron beam just kicked in strong, and I can feel my clitty being squeezed by a force-field ring. At least I’m going to get a nice cum as I donate my assets to the worldwide food chain in celebration of the gymnastics teams’ wins. Come on, Cassandra! Catch my nipples between the rollers. I don’t want to be clitless before I’m titless!”

“Hush, girl…I’m working on it!” the brown-eyed brunette pushing on the yoke replied with a hearty laugh as she glanced into the redhead’s blue eyes, which were now filled with excitement and interest. “Besides, Lucy, you know these booth’s computers are programmed to make sure a girl gets neutered at the precise instant her breast bacon gets poached. Your girl penis will be feeling the breeze for the first and last time for as long as it takes to finish popping your little balloons. Then, as your tits come free of your chest, your sex life will get the chop as a laser beheads your clitoris!”

“Yeh, yeh, Cassandra,” Lucy replied giggling as she watched the brunette struggle to correctly position the Wringer assembly against her tumid breast tips, “talk is cheap. If you don’t get the move on…I’m going to get my first cum BEFORE my debreasting has begu…! OH! My nips are touching the lower roller now! WAY COOL! Just lower the Wringer assembly about a half inch and then push…! OHHHhhha! My clitty just took a tuu…! OH MY! I’M GONNA…!”

Lucy issued a staccato sigh of climax as she felt the lower roller rubbing upward and inward on the bottom of her nipples, had her tender clitoris take its first pull as the first force-field ring tugged downward and then a second ring squeezed inward around her newly exposed flesh, and felt the orgasmatron pleasure-beam emitter step up to full intensity. Then she held her breath as she sensed Cassandra push the Wringer assembly downward and forward.

“A girl doesn’t get much breast pleasuring before her tits get ruined using this debreasting option,” Oliver Queen observed dryly as he stared out at booth 4. “So much for that debreasting booth etiquette you girls made such a big deal of when you used Cheryl to demonstrate the booth controls earlier tonight. Still…the redhead does seem to be enjoying her impending nullification. I get what is about to happen to her tits now, but I still don’t understand what is happening to her pleasure button….”

“Debreasting booth etiquette DOES demand the pre-bacon-poaching breast pleasuring, Oliver,” Wanda replied with a wry smile on her face as she stared out at booth 4’s debreasting portals. “As much as is possible, that is. Several of the debreasting options, however, do limit or prevent that etiquette’s employment. I won’t be risking my breasts tonight using one of those options, nor will I ever choose to risk my sexual center in one of those booths. I’ll let Janet or Sue explain how the de-clit sub-option works.”

“They have a force-field version of a declitting tube installed in each of the booths,” Janet spat while wearing a wicked grin on her face. “It gradually drags your little warrior out of its burrow, a laser lops it off, and your sex life slides down an inclined ramp and into a small tray on this side of the room. Until we girls got here a couple of weeks ago, the clit candy was customarily consumed by the kitchen-side player while the unlucky donator watched from inside the booth.” Janet laughed at the looks of stupefied horror on the two men’s faces, before pointing out, “I think THAT gynophagia-land custom may be changing, and being replaced by the bacon hunters collecting the little love buttons and using them, once preserved in plastic necklace pendants, as trophies to demonstrate the number of kills they’ve made. You can thank Sue for that!”

“No, you can thank Zatanna, Janet,” Sue quickly corrected. “She had already suggested the plastic beading equipment as an attraction for the bacon hunters to demonstrate their proficiency and as a way for those girls to contribute to Bill’s profit margin by paying to preserve the nipples from the breasts they harvested. I merely pointed out the equipment could also be used for those rare instances a clitoris was harvested as well. Was Janet’s explanation sufficient, boys? Do you know what a declitting tube is and how it works?”

“It is a device invented near the beginning of the 21^th Century to be used for female circumcision as practiced principally in the Middle East and northern Africa,” Hank Pym replied softly with a silly grin on his face. “It is a bloodless clitoridectomy procedure, and was meant to be a boon to womankind by reducing the infection and unintended injuries that often accompany the traditional female genital mutilation ritual. However, as a scientist, I wouldn’t mind a more detailed explanation of the procedure, Sue, complete with details on the 41^st Century modifications naturally. Or…if you would prefer…Ollie and I can just step onto the dance floor where we can get a better view?”

“No…Hank…I’ll try to explain!” Sue replied hastily with a blush on her face. “Other men don’t seem to be flocking onto the dance floor. I would suppose the city men aren’t as curious as you country boys.” She watched as both Hank and Ollie nodded their understanding that she didn’t want them attracting attention to their table by acting in a manner that was out of character for 41^st Century males.

“A declitting tube is filled with tiny, sticky-rubber-coated, doughnut-shaped diaphragms, the first of which, near the tube end, begins the extirpation process by contracting around its victim’s clitoral glans,” Sue said softly with a frown on her face. “That constricted diaphragm then retracts slightly into the tube, waits while another similar torus contracts around the girl’s organ tip to hold it in place, and then expands and moves forward again to squeeze a little lower on her organ before retracting again. The tori in the declitting tube are all eventually involved in this squeeze, pull, release, push forward, squeeze, pull, dance until the tension on the flesh being stretched matches the tender organ’s tensile strength.”

“Here, in the debreasting booths, that sordid dance is done with force-field rings,” Sue Richard’s continued softly, her voice nearly a whisper as she remembered her last booth stint, “with a new force-field ring constricting around and then pulling outward on the girl penis after each successive tug, until the flesh is stretched near its tear point. In either case, when the declitting tube or booth force fields have finished their stretching, most of the girl’s clitoral shaft, before the tiny organ turns downward and splits to form the crura, will be trapped above the device’s basal diaphragm or lowest force-field ring. All but the basal diaphragm or final force-field ring will then be released to allow the exposed girl penis to reform into its natural shape, but held exposed outside the vulva.”

Sue blushed deeply as she finished explaining, “Then, with both procedures, the clitoral shaft is severed by laser beams on the inner side of the final constriction, allowing the remainder of the shaft to snap back into its cavity, leaving the severed ends of the delicate nerves that were the girl’s principal source of sexual stimulation buried deep within her body. The declitted girl will then have to rely primarily on vaginal stimulation to reach climax…and many girls don’t have sensitive enough ‘G-spots’ to make that possible. For many girls…being declitted…marks the end of any hope for achieving orgasm. You boys risked a nearly identical fate earlier tonight…and fortunately…avoided equipment failure. I don’t know if either of you would take that risk again….” Sue watched as both frowning men shook their heads before she spat emotionally, “Neither will I!”

“Or me!” Zatanna agreed emphatically, and then nodded to booth 4. “However, that redhead no longer has a choice. Even from here, you can see her clit has been stretched! From the way she’s mewing, I’d say she knows that stretching has only just started, AND that she can see her nipples are about to get caught in the Wringer! Can anyone say…it’s chair bouncing time, Janet?” Laughter erupted from the do-gooders’ table.

“OH CRAP!” Lucy shrilled excitedly. “You’ve got the Wringer lined up correctly now, Cassandra! Both rollers are lightly brushing the tops and bottoms of my nipples!”

“Then your tits are about to get munched, Lucy!” Cassandra spat with obvious relish. “The question is…do we wait and see if the your nipples will grow just a bit more turgid and get themselves caught in the Wringer…or I give the yoke a tiny push forward and…!”

“OWE!” Lucy yelped as she felt her nipples begin to be pinched as Cassandra gave the debreasting equipment a tiny nudge. “Thanks loads, Cassandra! HUH…what’s that?”

“You’re welcome, Lucy,” Cassandra replied with false sweetness while nodding at the shallow metal tray that had just rotated outward and upward from the booth wall below the debreasting portals and Wringer assembly, “and that’s the paste tray to catch the paper-thin squashed pulp you’re A-cups are about to become. You’re on your own girl! My participation in the booth game has ended…until the paste tray is ready to go to the kitchen…and your clitty is resting in a smaller tray below it!”

“OH GOD!” the redhead moaned with anguished anticipation. “OWE! I’m caught! MY NIPPLES! OH! The tugs on my clitty are coming faster…look at me worm out of the apex of my vulva! AHHHUH! ICE HOT! I’m CUMMING!” Lucy gasped in pain as her nipples became crushed between the Wringer’s rollers even as she moaned in climax.

Cassandra watched slack-jawed with unblinking brown eyes as the clitoris in the computer screen above was stretched out into open air by the invisible force-field rings, and the Wringer assembly begin creeping toward the wall of booth 4 on its own accord. Then the brunette squealed in obvious delight, “I can see paper-thin brownish pink between the rollers on this side of the Wringer, Lucy! I think it’s your squished nipples!”

“WELL DUH!” Lucy roared in a mixture of laughter and agony. “What do you think has brought these tears out of my eyes and is causing those double rollers to get dragged towards my chest. What you see WERE my nipples, Cassandra, and the front of my tits are being crushed now too! At least the pleasure beams feel goo…oh CRAP…the tugging on my clitty has stopped…look at me waving in the wind waiting to get the choo…! I’m cumming AGAIN!”

“Yes, Lucy!” Cassandra giggled excitedly. “Your stretched flesh is reforming itself into your girl penis waiting to be beheaded, and a metal chute has unfolded between your legs to allow the little organ to slide into the tray that just appeared below an opening near the floor on my side of the booth wall after that happens! I can see paper-thin white paste too…widening behind the squashed nipple. HELL! I’m glad I got to put you through this fun, Lucy. This night is going to be a fun memory…even if my number gets rolled when it’s my table’s turn to take debreasting booths! Does getting your tits squashed in the Wringer hurt, Lucy?”

“Yes…it HURTS…ICE HOT…Cassandra,” the redhead chortled with a grimace on her face. “I’m in…AGONY! My chest is…ON FIRE…and I…can’t stop…CUMMING! OH SHIT! The rollers…they’re close to…my breast bone…! Is my clitty…Cassandra?”

“Yep, Lucy, your clit is a half-inch long girl penis waiting to get sliced free by the horizontal laser beam positioned barely above your hood that just got activated,” Cassandra chuckled happily. “And that’s going to happen any second, girl, because I think those double rollers are done munching breast bacon and are rubbing chest skin nnnn…OUCHIES! That blows…and there goes the las…!” Cassandra gasped, while the redhead in booth 4 shrilled in both climax and agony, as she watched the last of Lucy’s breasts get dragged between the rollers and then get ripped from the girl’s chest leaving ragged, bloody wounds where breasts once protruded. Then, as the last of the paper-thin sheet of squashed skin and breast tissue oozed between the twin rollers, the lowering laser finished burning through clitoral shaft.

Lucy had one final massive climax as she heard the audible snap of her clitoral shaft retracting while she watched her clitoris drop downward below her vulva on the computer screen in the upper left corner of her booth window. As the tiny amputated organ dropped out of camera shot, the redhead looked out to see the Wringer retracting into its housing, and the end of the paste tray now filled with her squashed A-cups. She watched as Cassandra knelt and then straightened back up and showed her a severed clitoris. Lucy knew she was looking at her own flesh, and asked in a quivering voice, “That was a fun game, Cassandra…but I was wondering…my love button…are you going to keep it or…?”

“No, Lucy,” Cassandra replied softly with a malicious smile on her face, “I’m not going to keep it. I enjoyed our game immensely, but I’ll not pay the price of a necklace pendant to help me remember it. Besides…and maybe you didn’t know this about me…I really love the taste of fresh clit candy!”

A sheepish grin filled the redhead’s face as she watched the brunette poke the tiny tip of sex organ into her mouth and make a show of chewing and then swallowing as much of the audience applauded, before the girl detached the paste tray from the booth wall and headed for the food ordering station. “Thanks, Cassandra,” Lucy called out to her retreating sorority sister as the booth attendant began tugging on her arm so that she could begin treating some unusually severe chest wounds, “and maybe you didn’t know this about me…I think preserving sexy bits in plastic is a waste of good meat. It pleases me…that my meat…wasn’t wasted!”

Chapter 13. Bacon Hunter’s Delights

“Holy Moses!” Hank Pym hissed softly as he watched the brunette deliver the paste tray to the attendant at the food-ordering counter, while two other female attendants cleaned the blood, far less of it than the scientist might have expected, from the inside and outside walls of booth 4. “She actually ate it…raw! While the girl in the booth watched!”

“Yes she did, honey buns,” Janet Van Dyne replied giggling at the horror and disbelief filling her husband’s face. “I guess the pendant making option hasn’t been universally accepted yet. Don’t think watching THAT is going to give you an excuse for not giving me my boon for the royal blow job I let you enjoy earlier tonight…cunnilingus every night for a month!” The spunky heroine grinned at the laughter her husband’s reddening face engendered from her tablemates.

“’Twas my pleasure to reward your Henry for the most brave entertainment he gave us earlier, friend Janet,” Princess Diana of Themyscira interjected with laughter filling her blue eyes. “Mayhap you should thank me for the boon my efforts won you, winsome Wasp, by yourself providing me with one evening of similar pleasure!”

“I’d say that one night of lesbian sex is a fair price to pay for that month of male servitude Diana earned you, Mrs. Van Dyne,” Oliver Queen pointed out dryly before chuckling facetiously. “Obviously, Hank and I are going to want to watch. Why don’t you girls go at each other when we get back tonight?”

“Great idea, Oliver!” Zatanna chortled zealously. “I want to watch too! I’ll even do Dinah if she wants when Janet finishes pleasuring Diana.”

“Maybe another night…in private, Zatanna,” Dinah replied, perhaps a bit too quickly, while her face reddened. “However, I’m game to watch Janet and Diana get it on!”

“Jeese!” Wanda spat in obvious disdain as Janet blushed and most of the table chuckled around her. “Don’t encourage these men, girls. I never understood this part of male sexuality. They want to see their women with other women, but then cry foul on the not-so-rare occasions those women switch to playing in the all-girl leagues. Go figure! Go ahead and do it, Janet, while I hit the sack.”

“And I go home to my husband,” Sue replied nodding. “I prefer participation to watching, and, while I have nothing against girls liking girls, I prefer participating with men…I mean my husband, of course. However, are you going to thank Diana…in that way…Janet…for what she did for Hank?”

Janet Van Dyne grinned wickedly, despite her reddening face, before replying, “If Diana tells me in private that she wasn’t joking, Sue, I might. However, that thanking I might do would be secretly done in private, I think. Does that work for you, Diana?”

“Indeed it does, friend Janet,” the Amazon Princess chuckled jovially, “for I WAS speaking in jest and never contemplating providing others with erotic visual stimulation. However, thank you for giving me the opportunity for reconsidering that jest. Perhaps we will discuss this further…privately.” Once again the table laughed at Janet’s expense as she blushed badly.

“The dance floor is beginning to fill with people…mostly girls,” Hank Pym interjected loudly as he nodded to the front of the debreasting booths in a gallant attempt to rescue his wife from being the center of an embarrassing conversation. “What’s up with that?”

“Most of those girls are what this establishment’s patrons have come to call bacon hunters, Hank,” Zatanna replied with a knowing grin on her face. “They’re out there assessing the breast bacon available to be poached. There do seem to be more of them than usual on the dance floor though, but this is my first time here so early in the evening.”

“I don’t think it’s the hour that is in play here, Zatanna,” Sue replied softly while wearing a slight frown. “It’s the girls in the booths with their debreasting options left available for the kitchen-side players to set, isn’t it, Wanda?”

“Yes, Sue, it is,” Wanda replied softly as she nodded in agreement with her blonde friend. “Those girls in the booths are trapped with their breasts waiting to be harvested in any manner that strikes the kitchen-side players’ fancies…fast or slow, with docking first or not. Their clitorises are at risk as well! It’s like blood in the water for ship-wrecked sailors surrounded by hungry sharks. I’ll be surprised if any of those girls leave the Game room intact!”

“If those bacon hunters are smart, they’ll let one or two of the sorority sisters survive their booth games, Wanda,” Dinah replied with a gleam in her blue eyes. “While I, and they, can’t be certain what the agreement is between the two tables of girls, one can assume from what was said that the second table has to fill booths after the girls from the first table have done their stints. That agreement might be considered voided if there are no girls left from the first table to roll the die. Damn, I wish I didn’t have to wait to play from the kitchen-side again!”

“Your girlfriend isn’t as blonde as she looks, Ollie!” Hank Pym spat jovially. “Say, Janet, would you say that redhead from the second table who will be filling booth 1, if Dinah’s right and those so-called bacon hunters are as smart as she is, matches your complexion? I thought so!” the scientist chirped with a silly grin on his face as he watched his wife nod. “Somebody pass me the debreasting option menu. If that girl’s C-cups are perfect in shape and tipped with pinkish-brown aerolae the size of 50-cent pieces…well, I’ll try to be the first to get to her debreasting controls.”

“I’ll keep my fingers crossed for you and your fantasy about ruining your wife’s breasts, Hank,” Oliver replied dryly as he passed the menu from in front of Dinah to the male Avenger. “Yeh, my girl is bright. Have you had any other epiphanies, my little Canary, such as how you plan to get your own bust flattened?”

“I think the way my balloons get popped should be a surprise to you, lover boy,” Dinah replied giggling happily, “but yes I do have a couple of insights that I’ll share with the girls within earshot. Firstly, the Latino girl in booth 5 is about to get her slightly drooping D-cups popped.” The ponytailed Justice Leaguer nodded to a girl of Middle Eastern descent who had just bared her perfect C-cups to the booth occupant by dropping her silk shirt to the floor, before finishing with, “Secondly, I think that this would be one of those situations where a girl behind an opaque booth window with her debreasting options conservatively set might stand a chance of getting a free pleasure-beam-induced climax.”

“That is a most sensible idea, Dinah,” Sue said smiling as she nodded. “You’re going to give us blondes a better reputation when it comes to smarts if you keep this up. The Wringer made pretty quick work of that redhead’s A-cups, and booth 4 hasn’t been empty very long. I think I just might…?” Sue watched with surprise on her face as the short and slender Francheska raced past their table and through the Game room door.

“Gotcha rich bitch!” Dinah spat with a malicious grin on her face as the door closed behind the quickly stripping Latino. “Who’s going to do her?”

“I’ll say this for you, sweety,” Zatanna replied with a chuckle. “You’ve got a one-track mind. I’m waiting for Coach Taft and his date. I have a slightly marbled fillet to try to preserve! Hank?”

“I want to wait for the redhead that will be filling booth 1,” Hank Pym replied with a silly grin on his face. “I want to see if she IS a match for Janet. You can go punish Francheska for stealing the booth you were contemplating taking, Sue.”

“I don’t punish girls, period, Hank,” Sue said softly but with obvious irritation. “I let the legal system do that. Besides, I’d rather not hurt another girl…that way…again. I wish…now…I hadn’t been asked to do so…by Sharon…on our first visit to Final Fantasy.”

“Then it’s up to you, Wanda, because Francheska isn’t my type and I know Diana won’t be popping her little balloons,” Janet chided softly as she stared at her friend with a mischievous grin on her face.

“No!” Wanda replied softly yet tersely while staring at Janet rather than the true target of her message. “I don’t mean to be uncooperative, but I think we’ve seen enough of those particular girls’ reactions to tablemates being debreasted.” The auburn-haired beauty glanced over to the table she had been talking about and locked eyes with Bill Jennings before continuing with, “I think we should give Francheska a pass…” Wanda watched as Bill Jennings shrugged his shoulders and then nodded while the three remaining girls at his table stared nervously at her, before continuing with, “…but I’ll go play with her and contemplate changing my mind. Anything can happen once you’re in one of those bacon traps!”

“Friend Janet, do my instincts deceive me?” Diana asked with confusion obvious on her face as Wanda strode purposefully towards the perfect B-cups that had just been pushed through booth 4's debreasting portals. “Has friend Wanda changed her mind, and is now intent on harvesting yon breasts for kitchen use?”

“No, I think your instincts are correct, Diana,” Janet replied with a wry grin on her face as she stared at Bill Jennings. “Wanda is in a contrary mood at the moment. I think she will do whatever is the opposite of what one of her friends wants her to do. I guess I should have handled the situation myself, instead of trying to con Wanda into doing it for me.” Janet couldn’t help notice the grin grow on Bill’s face as horror filled the faces of the girls sitting at his table. The spunky heroine instantly realized that Wanda, and likely Barbara as well, was being manipulated by the clever club owner.

Wanda Maximoff felt her face redden as the girl behind booth 4’s opaque window gasped in fear as she felt the auburn-haired beauty’s hands on her breasts. The Latino girl could no doubt read the anger on the big-breasted heroine’s face, and thought it was being directed towards her. In truth, Wanda was angry at her own self, and the impulsiveness that had sent her racing out onto the dance floor. Realizing that it was too late to return to her table without losing face, Wanda cupped a perfect B-cup in each hand and gently lifted them to test their weight while admitting, “Your breasts are gorgeous, Francheska. They’re the most perfect B-cups I’ve ever had the pleasure of holding.”

“Thank you for saying so, Wanda,” the Latino girl replied in a quivering voice. “I know they aren’t very big, but I’m still quite proud of them. They won’t be the first set of breasts…that you’ve…?

“No, Francheska…they wouldn’t be the first breasts I’ve harvested…converted to bacon,” Wanda conceded as her anger became a frown and her blush deepened. “I took a set of C-cups off a redheaded girl’s chest during my first visit to this nightclub. They were nice, but your B-cups are much lovelier…the tanned skin so silky smooth and sporting perky pinkish-brown areolae with nice thick nipples protruding from them.” Wanda’s frown gradually morphed into a subtle smile as she watched said nipples swell into hardened turrets.

“Such compliments would be hard for a girl to hear without blushing, Wanda,” Francheska replied with a nervous giggle, “if the girl you were talking about didn’t realize you were talking about your food. I hope my bacon tastes better than the redhead’s did. Was she…papered? We couldn’t help notice that our marital status seems to be why you girls are….

“She was, Francheska, and I traded for vegetarian sandwiches that night,” Wanda acknowledged with her face again frowning as her fingers instinctively tweaked nipples. “My friend does seem to have a beef against upper class girls…but not me…that’s not what this is about. It wasn’t about that with the redhead either…her husband ordered me to do her!”

“Too bad for both of you booth players then,” Francheska said with genuine sorrow in her voice. “Those kinds of divorces seem to be getting common these days, but I think it’s silly to ruin a perfectly fine booth game with such family matters. I’m glad you’re not playing the booth game with me because some husband told you to…or to help your friend wage class warfare, Wanda. Your hands do feel nice on my breasts. I’m glad this is my lucky night!”

“I’m glad too, Francheska,” Wanda replied softly with a gentle smile on her face, “that neither of those reasons are my reason for being here, and that this IS your lucky night.” Wanda’s smile broadened as she felt the nipples between her fingers swell even larger and the breasts they were attached to begin to shiver in anticipation. “Enjoy yourself in there, you lovely little girl with such pretty breasts, but don’t get too worked up just yet. I’ve been thinking. The sign on the Game room door is vaguely worded because it means you are lucky whichever way the debreasting booth game ends…whether you get a free pleasure beam treatment and get to play again…or you finally get to experience your debreasting. Our game’s culmination will remain in doubt until you enter your final booth minute, Francheska.”

“Thank you, Wanda,” the Latino replied with laughter in her voice. “I won’t mind your gentle hands on my breasts for another seven minutes before I learn their fate. I do hope my breast tips will get some suckling as well, though.”

“They will, Francheska, I promise,” Wanda assured the girl behind the opaque window with a sheepish grin on her face and laughter in her gold-flecked blue eyes, “but not just yet. You’ll have to make do with my hands for now. It sounds like the girl in the booth to your left is about to get lucky, and, sorry, I want to watch.”

Janet saw Wanda turn her attention to the breasts protruding from booth 5, and spat, “I do think the witch is going to pop Francheska’s B-cups, guys and gals, but not just yet. Something is going on between the Arabic girl and the girl carrying the D-cups in front of her.”

“Good, then there is still time for Wanda to come to her senses,” Sue said softly with a hint of desperation in her voice. “Unless of course she’s decided she really does want to pop the girl’s pretty B-cups. Maybe someone should talk to her…make sure she’s not about to do something she’ll regret…for less than rational reasons?”

“No, leave her alone, Sue,” Zatanna replied chuckling. “Wanda is a big girl and is going to do whatever she’s going to do. Besides, it’s not one of us she’s peeved at. Let’s just listen to and watch what’s happening…at booth 5…for the moment.”

Wanda Maximoff stood wide-eyed and slack-jawed as she gently tickled the bottoms of Francheska’s B-cups while she heard the dark-eyed beauty beside her tell the horrified Latino behind booth 5’s transparent window, “It is decided, you big-titted cow! The nipples tipping those D-cups will make the pendants on this necklace above my own breasts an even dozen. I very much enjoy plucking breasts out of these booth portals, but your clitoris will be my first. Thirteen pendants will I soon wear!”

“No…WAIT…Miss!” Wanda heard the Latino girl plea. “Take my breasts…in whatever painful and prolonged manner you might wish…but please…leave me my sex life!”

“NO!” Wanda heard the Middle Eastern girl roar. “Your clitoris is mine…and you have had your last climax, infidel! The pleasure beams you hope for when you call out for a slow and painful death for your milk bags will not be. Watch your screen as I set your debreasting controls, and then beg some more if you wish to waste your breath!”

Wanda watched as the Latino glanced upward and her face screamed crestfallen as she whined, “Guillotine blade? NO…DON’T! Reset the controls!” Then terror filled the Latino girl’s face as she watched the twin computer screens fill the booth window in her upper left corner, and the upper corner to Wanda and the Semitic beauty’s right. “Oh, GOD! How do the declitting force fields work in partnership with near instantaneous debreasting?”

“Very quickly, you stupid sow!” Wanda heard the dark-eyed girl reply as she reached for the red debreast button beside the sorority sister’s window. Wanda tried to focus on the computer screen showing the apex of the Latino’s legs and the little button of flesh at the top of a clean-shaven vulva. Surprisingly the ramp that would catch severed clit candy was already deployed. The big-breasted Avenger heard the click as booth 5’s debreast button was pressed, the swoosh of falling metal, and then the high-pitched shrill of agony that almost, but not quite, masked the wet double plops as D-cups hit the dance floor in front of the booth wall.

Wanda blinked and stared hard at the screen as she listened to the Latino girl bawl—the button of flesh was gone, and blood leaking from the top of the vulva provided evidence of a clitoris extirpated before the laser could be deployed. “WOW, that’s got to really blow!” Wanda spat with obvious emotion. “A girl one second, and a nullo the next!”

“Nullo?” the Middle Eastern girl asked with a confused look on her face as Wanda watched her look her way, before crouching to retrieve her trio of trophies. As the Arabic girl straightened back up and pushed the severed breasts, one in each hand, and the tiny sex organ, between her right thumb and forefinger, before to the Latino girl’s face as she gagged and cried behind the booth window with pain and disbelief on her face, she asserted, “Yes, that is what you now are, you who are called Sonya. A nullo…a titless and clitless girl who didn’t even get a climax for her severed trophies and worthless meat. I’ll keep my trophies, Sonya, but I’ll not be partaking of your worthless pig meat!”

Wanda shrugged as the trophy hunter headed for the kitchen counter, the bawling Latino was dragged out of debreasting booth 5 by the booth attendant, while the clean-up crew went to work wiping away blood, and returned her attention back to the B-cups that she might soon be harvesting. “Don’t worry, Francheska, your pretty breasts are going to get the respect they deserve. Before I read your debreasting options, why don’t you tell me why a pretty married girl like you is here risking your rosy future by playing the debreasting booth game with a girl like me?”

“That didn’t look too fun for the girl who used to carry nice big breasts,” Oliver Queen grimly observed as his table watched the Arabic girl deposit the large lumps of bacon at the food ordering counter along with the tiny clitoris. As he watched the girl hand the kitchen attendant her ‘debit’ card, and then step to the left to the pendant making station after watching the attendant clip breast tips off of the bacon lumps, he quipped, “But at least the girl’s nipples and clit will end up as part of a family heirloom growing dusty in someone’s attic…assuming attics still exist these days!”

“If not attics, there will be something that serves the same function, Oliver,” Sue replied softly with a frown on her pallid face. “That Middle Eastern girl was terribly mean to that poor Latino girl. At least she didn’t get any applause for her breast poaching, which has been uncharacteristically prevalent so far tonignt…perhaps because there are a lot of people in a debreasting booth nightclub for their first time.”

“Right, Sue!” Zatanna agreed while nodding. “Hopefully the newbies get tired of clapping their hands. And yes, the Arabic girl ruined that girl’s chance for a memorable debreasting experience. If karma is more than just philosophy, that bitch will get her own balloons popped before the night is done,” the raven-haired magic wielder spat with obvious disgust. “I’ll do those perfect C-cups myself if she dares take a booth!”

“Or maybe not, Zatanna!” Hank grunted in obvious disappointment as he nodded to the Arabic man dressed in white carrying the purple silk shirt to the girl waiting for her pendants to be made. “I’m guessing the guy fetching her top is her husband.”

“Well the long, royal-purple skirt should have been a tipoff, boys and girls,” Janet pointed out gently staring at the visibly fuming Dinah. “That papered girl did do the sorority girl a dirty deed, but those college students are just asking for it by leaving their controls to be set by the kitchen-side players. Don’t bet more than your willing to lose, in the debreasting booth game as well as poker!”

“I get it, Janet,” Dinah replied with obvious exasperation, “when we play the booth game from inside the Game room, we make sure we set ‘de-clit option no’ and we don’t try to play the booth game from the kitchen side with papered girls guarded by men. Maybe that Semitic girl’s husband will make her take a booth unguarded? Nah, I’m just daydreaming! Janet is right, Hank. Those sorority girls ARE just asking for it. Have you decided how you’re going pop faux Janet’s balloons? Are you going to make her pay for putting her sex life in jeopardy?” The table laughed at the directness of Black Canary’s inquiry as a blushing Hank Pym tried to cover up his embarrassment by burying his face in the debreasting option menu.

“…so when I heard the girls in the secretarial pool at the advertising firm I work at talking about how fun a debreasting booth nightclub called Final Fantasy was to visit, Wanda, and saw how dreamy eyed they got when they talked about the orgasmatron beam treatments they were rewarded with at the ends of their booth stints, I just had to check the place out for myself,” Francheska sheepishly admitted as she finished the first part of her explanation. “I didn’t want to come alone, so I called Simone, who I’ve known for years, and she called Debbie and another of her friends, Shasta. It was the first time I met either of those girls, and the last time I saw Shasta.”

“Let me guess,” Wanda replied with a knowing grin as she glanced up from the B-cups she was gently rubbing to stare into booth 4’s opaque window. “Shasta got her bacon poached during her very first booth stint?”

“No, not exactly, Wanda,” Francheska replied in a sorrowful tone. “When we came here that night about three months ago, none of us planned on doing anything more than watch other girls play the game. Well, it seemed obvious that the vast majority of girls that entered the Game room left the room whole and happy after playing the booth game. Most of the girls who had their donations accepted also seemed to be more than happy about their debreasting booth experiences.”

“Yeah, we noticed that right away as well, when my friends and I first visited here about two weeks ago,” Wanda admitted with a happy smile on her face. “There are always a few mean girls around to ruin the game for a few donators, though. I wish it weren’t so! So, you began doing booth stints that night…despite the marital ramifications?”

“Shasta, challenged all of us to play the game just once,” the diminutive Latino replied, her breasts reddening with a blush as she remembered that night. “She was a wild thing with ebony skin and perfect brown-tipped C-cups! I think that wildness, which made her so different from the rest of us, is what Simone treasured about her. Despite that wildness, I’m sure Shasta knew that what she was challenging us to do was a big risk for a thirty-two-year-old papered girl to take. Me, I’m thirty-eight, and very few girls make it to forty before their husbands trade them in for a younger girl. I decided I wasn’t risking that much and accepted her challenge, Wanda. We entered the Game room together, Shasta and I, and shed the evening dresses we both knew would make us targets for girls like your ponytailed friend.”

“Obviously, you made it out of the Game room whole, Francheska,” Wanda replied softly, knowing the memories the Latino girl was reliving might be troubling. “I hope both of you enjoyed your booth games despite….”

“We both did, Wanda,” Francheska replied softly. “The fact that both of us each had several girls play with our chest ornaments and threaten to send us home to our husbands breastless, just as you are doing with me now, only made our final booth minutes more rewarding…our climaxes more intense! God I loved playing that booth game with Shasta! I know we were both hooked…both on the pleasure beams and the thrill of impending disaster…right then and there!”

“Yeah…I love this game myself,” Wanda replied giggling. “I think these debreasting booths are the culmination of humankind’s genius! Go on with your story. I want to know what happened to Shasta!”

“We returned to our table, glowing with sexual satisfaction and the thrill of victory, Wanda,” Francheska replied laughingly. “We enjoyed our drinks and Simone even sprang for stock fillets. We enjoyed the nightly lottery from our table, and watched the two losing girls ride Jessica machines. We watched the girls squirm over the coals for a little while, before returning to our table and drinking some more. The percentage of girls having their donations accepted seemed to be increasing as the night went on, and we enjoyed watching balloons getting popped. Then Shasta challenged me to take a booth again. I wouldn’t…she did!”

Wanda nodded as she heard the quiver increase in Francheska’s voice, and urged, “Go on! I’m sorry if this is hard for you, Francheska, but I really want to hear about it. Was Shasta…?”

“No!” the Latino girl spat with obvious emotion. “Shasta got teased by girls playing the game with her again, but returned to our table whole and happy, and with an even greater high that came from escaping the bacon trap! We had a few more drinks, and then she asked if one of us would go into the Game room with her. None of us did, so she went for the hat trick alone. She had a bunch of really intense climaxes as she got her boobs sheared off by scissors…one breast at a time!”

“I’m sorry your friend got her balloons popped, Francheska,” Wanda said softly in her most genuine tone. “Did she enjoy her debreasting experience? Did she go home happy about having played the debreasting booth game?”

“Yes, Wanda, she did,” Francheska admitted softly with obvious remorse. “She couldn’t stop telling us about how fantastic the experience was during the taxi ride home. I imagine she didn’t stop telling her husband how great her night had been all the way to the government conversion facility following a quick divorce. I didn’t know her well enough to know if Simone is right, when she says Shasta probably enjoyed her live butchering as well…the marital ramifications you were speaking of, Wanda. I really wish Shasta had stopped after two booth stints!”

“I’m sorry that happened to Shasta, Francheska,” Wanda replied with a frown on her face. “Some aspects of this society really blow. Despite your friend’s bad luck, you girls decided to make return visits to Final Fantasy, obviously. Was it hard to come back, knowing…?”

“Yes it was hard, Wanda,” Francheska interrupted with obvious emotion, “for the three of us to come back to Final Fantasy six weeks later. I wanted to play the booth game again…despite the target my evening dress put on my breasts. I didn’t…none of us did! We just watched other girls getting their balloons popped. We all went home whole…but I felt unfulfilled. When we came back three weeks ago, we were dressed as tonight. I enjoyed my second booth game. Now I’m the one trying for the hat trick with your hands on my B-cups. I suppose I’ll wish I’d stopped after two booth stints.”

“Maybe you will, Francheska,” Wanda admitted softly. “Maybe we both will, as I’ve committed to doing three booth stints tonight.” Wanda smiled sheepishly and then made a show of reading the Latino girl’s debreasting booth options as she tickled the bottoms of her B-cups with her fingers and rotated her thumbs around turgid nipples. “Scissors on dead slow, one breast at a time,” Wanda announced while staring into the opaque booth window with a wicked grin on her face. “Brave girl! Those pretty B-cups deserve to get their nipples suckled for that!”

“Then you’ve decided, Wanda?” Francheska asked with the quiver once again evident in her voice. “You’re going to pop my pretty little balloons and turn them into sandwich meat? Go ahead…I guess. I won’t think ill of you for doing so…even as I’m being rendered to parts. In fact…I think I’ll really be able to enjoy this…my lucky night!”

“I’m sure you will, you lovely girl,” Wanda replied softly with a friendly smile on her face, “enjoy your debreasting experience. However, I’m not sure that your going to enjoy that happening to you tonight…at my hands. I haven’t decided yet…although I must admit…I wouldn’t mind being to one carrying these pretty B-cups to the kitchen. If I don’t pop these perfect, satiny smooth balloons tonight, Francheska…and you keep playing the booth game…someone…someday…will send your donations to the kitchen. You do know that, don’t you, Francheska?”

“Yes, Wanda, I do know that,” Francheska replied giggling, “and, as I have no intention of giving up this fine game we’ve both discovered and are now playing together, you might as well be the one to slap my red debreast button. But after some proper suckling, damn you girl!”

“Yes, Miss Francheska,” Wanda replied jovially as she bent towards turgid nipples. “I’ll pleasure the tender flesh you’re urging me to poach from your chest. However, I won’t promise to give into that urging and kill these pretty B-cups. We decide that after your pleasure beams have been activated!” Wanda Maximoff grinned as the girl above her issued a soft moan in response to her warm mouth.

“Did you see that?” Janet asked excitedly while bouncing on her chair. “Wanda read her debreasting options, said something to the Latino in the booth with laughter on her face, and began suckling nipples. Wanda IS going to poach that girl’s B-cups!”

“I still think someone should talk some sense into our friend’s head,” Sue said softly. “Assuming Janet’s right about her current intentions. Wanda certainly wasn’t planning on playing with that girl on the kitchen side of the debreasting portals when Francheska left her table to enter the Game room.”

“I suspect Wanda’s intentions will become clear momentarily, Sue,” Dinah chirped joyfully. “The blonde sorority sister is now getting her debreasting options set by that lovely Japanese girl. If the witch ignores the destruction of those pale-skinned C-cups, we’ll all know she’s serious about her own balloon popping adventure!”

“Hmmm, that leaves the first sorority girl table down to two sets of B-cups,” Hank Pym observed thoughtfully. He grinned and quipped, “I’d say it’s not just guys with breast-size fixations.”

“No, we girls have size fixations as well, Hank,” Zatanna chuckled jovially as she made a point of staring at the men’s tented pants’ crotches, one at a time, “even when we’re not putting tender and turgid flesh to the chop! I think I’m going to need a bed partner when we get home tonight!”

“You keep staring, Zatanna, and you won’t need to wait for us to get home before your vagina gets filled and your size fixation satisfied,” Oliver Queen warned dryly as he saw the magic-wielder’s eyes assessing his assets. “I’ll bet at least one of us will enjoy seeing your rude little twat speared with inch-and-a-half-thick sharply pointed steel.”

“Mayhap, it would be best for you to watch the debreasting, Zatanna,” Diana advised softly. “I do not believe you would be the one enjoying such intercourse regardless of the thickness and length of the steel!” Zatanna cringed and blushed as her friends laughed at her evident discomfort. Princess Diana grinned, looked longingly at the vacant Bacon Risker box, and drained another glass of Lactic Blaster.

Wanda heard the Japanese girl ask, “Tell me, truthfully, Candice, what were the options you wrote on that slip of paper as part of your little sorority game? While I have decided to poach your bacon, I do not mind if you manage to enjoy your debreasting experience.”

“Thank you for being so kind, Miss,” Wanda heard the blonde in booth 2 reply softly and politely, “especially if you faithfully follow the options I selected. Unlike Lucy, my options ARE what I wanted for myself should my debreast button get pressed…which, evidently, you plan to do. I don’t mind a little pain, especially considering the more intense pleasure beams resulting from it, but I don’t want to end up as someone’s trophies. Stripper, both breasts simultaneously, docking disallowed, medium slow, and de-clit option no were the options I wrote out. You’ll let me keep my sex life, won’t you, Miss?”

“Yes, Candice,” Wanda heard the Japanese girl reply while giggling softly as she ran through the computer menu windows, “I’ll let you leave that booth with your clitoris intact. I am Hoshi, and I am here for sandwich meat, not trophies or clit candy. It will be most interesting to see if the deep-fried breast strips will give the sandwiches a different texture than the usual thinly sliced deep-fried breast bacon. Your options are set, Candice. It is time to make your food donation!”

“Stripper?” Francheska asked softly from above Wanda’s head. “That’s a new debreasting method isn’t it, Wanda. Damn, your mouth on my nipples feels great, but now I wish I was out there where I can see what’s happening! Are you going to pause in the game you’re playing with me, and watch again, Wanda?”

“No…I don’t think so, Francheska,” Wanda replied softly as she pulled her lips off of a turgid left nipple sounding a bit unsure of her answer. “These gorgeous B-cups of yours deserve my full intention. Besides, with any luck, I’ll get to see the stripper in action some other time.” In truth, Wanda wanted to stop and watch. Instead she concentrated on the perfect breasts her hands were gently holding, and swirled the tip of her tongue around the base of an erect right nipple before resuming her suckling, eliciting a low moan of pleasure from the Latino girl with at-risk breasts. Wanda managed to keep suckling even as she heard the click of a debreast button being pressed.

“Did she say…stripper?” Dinah asked with obvious excitement. “What kind of debreasting method is that? Come on, Hank! Tell us how the blonde is going to get her tits ruined!”

“Easy, Dinah!” Oliver Queen gently urged his high-strung girlfriend with a grin on his face. “The debreast button has been pushed. You’ll be seeing for yourself in a few seconds.”

“Right, stud-o-mine!” the ponytailed heroine replied frantically to her bow-wielding boyfriend. “We’ll soon see it…but it’s more fun if we understand what we’re seeing! Hank?”

“Okay, Dinah, there’s no need for a Canary cry!” Hank Pym chortled gleefully. “I’ll read it out loud! Circle of dozen needle knifes with razor-sharp outer edges are pushed through bases of sow’s breasts then pulled nipple-ward through meat to form breast bacon strips which are then cut from sow’s chest with rotating razor-sharp blades.”

“That sounds like my kind of debreasting option!” Janet squealed with obvious delight in the sight she was about to witness.

“What a pain slut you really are, Janet!” Zatanna spat with a loud chuckle. “Never mind! Look! Rings lining the inside of the debreasting portals just contracted slightly and have been pushed against the blonde’s chest by some horizontal rods. I’ll bet larger diameter rings inside the booth, the ones presently holding the needle knifes, did the same thing simultaneously, and the knifes are about to be transferred from one set of rings to the other.”

“Zatanna’s right…you can see the needle knives…slowly pushing inward…through holes in the rings we can see…to prick the skin of her breast bases,” Sue stammered as she watched with widened eyes while the Japanese girl tugged on the C-cups she was about to harvest to get as much breast meat forward of the knives as possible. “Wanda isn’t letting herself get distracted…she’s concentrating on pleasuring Francheska’s breasts…this means she HAS decided to debreast her!”

“Cool!” Oliver Queen said with a loud chuckle. “I don’t want to seem cold-hearted, but debreasting IS what everyone is here to watch done, do to some girl, or risk having done to themselves, right? You shouldn’t take one of those booths, girls, if you’re not willing to pay the piper. The Latino girl seems pretty cool! I bet she’s ready to pony up if Wanda covets her B-cups.”

“Yeah, well let’s stop worrying about Wanda and Francheska for the moment, folks,” Hank Pym urged softly, “and watch this debreasting. Those booths are amazing in the intricateness of their technology. I’m sure Tony Stark would love to…never mind…I digress. The needle knives seemed to have stopped their inward transfer to the smaller rings when they touched the blonde’s skin. However, based on the girl’s gasps, she must be sensing increased pressure on her skin. It’s as if the needle knifes are testing the puncture resistance of her…OH! WOW!”

“HOLA!” Princess Diana chortled as she joined Sue in cupping her breasts as a cry of surprise and pain came from the blonde in booth 2. “Yon needle knives were just simultaneously run through the bases of the fair-haired wench’s breasts, with much haste I might add. Now that the knifes are held in place by holes on both sides of the smaller rings, I do believe the rendering of breasts into strips of meat is about to begin.”

“Diana called it boys and girls,” Dinah called out with a grin of ecstasy on her face as she pointed towards booth 2’s debreasting portals. “The rods attached to the smaller rings are slowly retracting towards us and away from the blonde’s chest, dragging the rings and the thin knives they are now holding with them, paying no attention to the flesh the knives now pierce! At least the Japanese girl is now pleasuring the tits that are about to die.”

“Jeese!” Janet spat while grinning like a Cheshire cat. “What a way to get your puppies knocked off! I hear a lot of pain in her moans, so getting your breasts stripped likely hurts like hell, but I hear more than a tinge of sexual pleasure….” Janet’s grin widened as she heard the unmistakable staccato sighs of climax, and proclaimed, “Yep! I think I might like to try that debreasting option someday…but on dead slow!”

“Why am I not surprised at that, Janet?” Zatanna asked facetiously with a hearty chuckle. “Still, that blonde does seem to be having a nice prolonged orgasm, even though the rings holding the needle knifes are already nearing the portal openings. Dead slow plus one breast at a time plus de-clit option yes might just be enough to climax a girl to death! What do you think, pain slut?”

“Don’t encourage her, Zatanna,” Sue growled with uncharacteristic fervor. “She might take it as a challenge, and fail to notice the agony mixing with those sighs of climax issuing from that poor girl’s throat.”

“Not to worry, Sue,” Janet chirped happily as she gave the blonde’s ravaged C-cups her full attention. “De-clit option yes is off the table. Hmmm! One breast at a time…now there’s a thought.”

“You worry me sometimes, dear wife,” Hank Pym grumbled softly. “I think I would be considering calling a shrink for you, just now, if I wasn’t so mesmerized with what is happening, just now. Somehow, push rods on this side of the booth wall managed to replace the push rods on the far side of the booth wall without altering the rate at which the knives are being pulled through breasts. Fascinating!”

“Yeah, it is fascinating, isn’t it, Hank,” Oliver Queen agreed dryly as he nodded his head, “the way that blonde seems to be enjoying getting her tits turned into a bloody mess, the way that Japanese girl seems to be enjoying doing it to her, and the way you’re only sometimes worried about that wife of yours.”

Wonder Woman roared with laughter for a few seconds before chortling, “Worry not, friend Oliver! Janet is not quite the thoughtless pain slut she pretends to be, and her loving husband does surely trust in that. Were it not for good fortune likely awaiting all upon our journey home, none of us would be here to celebrate with each other these uncommon sights and games. Still, this sight pleases me less than others, for those knives are indeed making a mess of once comely flesh, there is a bit more blood than usual, and I did truly cringe when the bases of those fair-skinned breasts were hastily pierced through and through. Still, ‘tis nearly done! Then we will watch Wanda play her game, and after that, my drinks drained, I will joust again with breasts endangered.” Princess Diana took a long drink to empty yet another glass and grinned as she gazed out to debreasting booth 2.”

“Nice speech, Diana,” Dinah quipped jovially, “but I thought you didn’t mind a little blood? Never mind. Your right about the uncommon sites and games, and the wonder that comes to mind about how that bloody mess that is only barely still living tits gets carried to the kitch…! Ahh! The ‘paste’ pan just deployed. Just in time too! The needle knives are approaching areolas!”

The blonde named Candice howled one final time in agony, and then began a long, staccato sigh of climax as her pleasure beam emitter stepped up to maximum. She was still screaming in orgasm as the needle knives passed through the end of her breast tips, her stripped flesh ends dropped into the shallow pan, and then her breast bases were cut away from her chest by clockwise rotating knife blades to allow the meat that was once shapely C-cups to become a Japanese girl named Hoshi’s dinner snack! Hoshi lifted the shallow pan and held it before the booth window, accompanied by scattered applause. Then Janet heard a grinning Candice, now free of her booth restraints, chortle, “Please do enjoy your meal, Hoshi! Thank you very much for playing the booth game with me, and letting me keep my at-risk sex life.”

“What a way to get your puppies knocked off!” Janet spat grinning ear-to-ear as she watched the pretty Japanese girl head for the kitchen, and the booth attendants go to work on both sides of booth 2’s wall and the floor below. Her grin broadened as the two remaining sorority girls began moaning in pleasure as they entered their final minute of their booth stints, and she proclaimed, “Three things astonish me just now, boys and girls. Firstly, Diana defended my pain slutness, casting doubt on her own mental state of being. Secondly, it looks like two sorority sisters are going to survive leaving their debreasting booth options open for the kitchen-side players to set, meaning the second table of sorority girls are going to become bacon hunters’ delights in a few short minutes. And finally, Wanda didn’t look up from her breast pleasuring just once while that blonde had her C-cups rendered asunder, meaning she’s playing the debreasting booth game with Francheska for real!”

“You look troubled, Sue,” Hank Pym said as he saw the blonde heroine fidgeting as she stared out at the debreasting portals. “What’s up?”

“That last debreasting, mostly, Hank,” Sue replied softly. “The abrupt running through of the breasts at the start of it gave me the willies. I take comfort in the fact that it made Diana cringe as well. However, I also admit I’m still worried about Wanda, and think someone should talk to her. She’s not yet voluntarily taken another girl’s breasts, and if she does so, I hope she will be able to feel good about it. I have a bad feeling about her being out there with Francheska.”

“Let Wanda be, Sue,” Janet said softly with a wry smile on her face as she glanced from Sue over to Francheska’s nearby table and Bill Jennings, “and trust in our friend making the right decision on her own. Besides, as Zatanna told you, your talking to her would likely do little good, as it’s not you our big-breasted friend is peeved at.” Janet’s smile broadened as she watched Bill nod, first at young Barbara, and then out to booth 4. Barbara immediately stood and made her way out onto the dance floor.

Chapter 14. Fate’s Unfolding

“Thank goodness those sorority girls’ booth stints are over with!” Wanda exclaimed and then giggled as B-cups were withdrawn from booths 1 and 3. “I have trouble concentrating on my breast pleasuring when girls in the other booths are sighing in climax. Now that we’re alone, I can really make you worry about losing these pretty chest ornaments that can be used to bring you so much pleasure, Francheska. How much longer do I have to perfect my suckling technique, you lovely Latino girl?”

“Just a bit more than four minutes, Wanda,” Francheska replied in a soft, contented tone, “which means I’ll learn which way I’m going to get lucky in a little over three minutes. We’re not going to be alone much longer, though. Unfortunately, one of my tablemates is about to join us.”

“Hello, Barbara,” Wanda called out without taking her eyes off Francheska’s turreted B-cups as the sound of footsteps on the dance floor came to a halt behind her. “How can we be of help to you, young lady?”

“I came to talk to you…I think…Wanda,” Barbara Wright stammered softly.

“Do you think?” the auburn-haired heroine asked derisively without bothering to glance backwards to the young, brown-eyed blonde who might become Bill Jennings’ wife so soon after Wanda’s friend and Bill’s late wife, Marge’s, passing. “What could you possibly want to talk to me about?’’

“Francheska’s breasts, naturally, Wanda,” Barbara replied, rather boldly for her age. “I recognize you, don’t I? You’re one of the volunteer dairy cows from Wednesday’s field trip to Bill’s dairy aren’t you, Wanda?”

Wanda gave Francheska’s left nipple a good long suckle, eliciting a long, pleasure-filled moan from the diminutive Latino, before she chortled, “Yes, that’s me, amateur milk cow! Are you looking to talk me out of harvesting Francheska’s bacon, Barbara…to preserve her breasts…or are you looking to be the one doing the poaching? Her B-cups are most appealing, are they not, Miss Wright?”

“To be honest…I’m not sure…Wanda,” Barbara replied softly, her confidence fraying. “Are you going to…pop her balloons…and send her home…breastless?”

“Hmmm, we WERE just discussing that possibility, Barbara,” Wanda replied chuckling softly. “Tell you what. If that is what happens, I’ll let you share in the kill. Come over here and go to work on her right nipple. I’ll suckle while you ask your questions or make your case, and you suckle while I answer or respond. That way, Francheska’s lovely B-cups get the attention they deserve while their fate is being decided, and if their fate is being murdered, you can carry her right breast to the kitchen. How does that sound to you, Francheska?”

“Ice hot, Wanda,” Francheska replied with an excited giggle, “the double suckling part at least. Forgive me if I don’t give a resounding endorsement to my breasts being murdered and getting carried to the kitchen. I want to feel what it’s like to get them sheared off my chest first! Now, Barbara, get your butt over here and give me thirty seconds of suckling before you say the next word, or I’m going to be cross with you for interrupting a perfectly fine booth game!”

“Yes, Miss Francheska,” Barbara replied softly with saucer-like eyes before quickly doing as she was told. As Wanda bent forward and rejoined her suckling of the Latino’s left nipple, the two girls soon had Francheska cooing with pleasure.

Exactly thirty seconds later, Wanda lifted her lips from the turgid-tipped B-cup and asked, “So, are you here to beg me to spare your tablemate’s breasts, Barbara? Or is there another reason? Do you covet these B-cups for yourself?”

As Barbara pulled her lips off the Latino’s right nipple, and she saw Wanda go back to work on the tip of an at-risk left breast, the young blonde nervously admitted, “I’m not sure…Wanda…but I think I’m out here…to save you…not Francheska! I think I’m here…to keep you…from doing something…you really don’t want to do. We overheard your tablemates…talking about how they think you’re out here…because you’re peeved at someone…at my table. Bill…I guess! They don’t want you to do something…you’ll regret. Evidently…the man I hope to marry…feels the same. Bill…sent me…out here.”

Wanda pulled her head back and laughed as Barbara went back to work suckling, and chortled, “You think I’m peeved at Bill, and that he sent you out here to save me from punishing him by my debreasting Francheska, here? A girl he just met? More likely Bill wants to see how you deal with having done what it takes to save me! Are you going to save me, Barbara, by debreasting your tablemate before I can? Are you about to slap Francheska’s debreast button?”

“NO!” Barbara spat emotionally, and straightened up to face the older beauty. “No…I don’t think so…not if I can help it! I don’t know! I can only think of…one other thing…to do!” The young blonde quickly unhooked the clasp of her pink sports bra, let it drop to the floor, pulled Wanda’s hands to the undersides of her D-cups, and nervously urged, “Tell me to fill a booth, Wanda! Then you can harvest these…pop my balloons…instead of Francheska’s! Then you can…stop being peeved…at Bill…cant you?”

Wanda Maximoff blushed beet red as she found her hands cupping the blonde’s fresh and tender breasts, so very nearly the size of her own. She lifted the perfect pinkish-tipped orbs and gauged their weight as she stared into the girl’s brown eyes and let her mind’s eye gaze along the newly adult youngster’s timeline. As fate unfolded before her, the Scarlet Witch’s visage softened and sadness filled her own gold-flecked blue eyes. In a cracking voice she softly asked, “You would play the booth game for me…allow these young and vulnerable breasts to be placed through debreasting portals…from which I guarantee they will be carried to the kitchen counter…if not by my hands…then surely by another’s?”

“Yes, Miss Wanda, I will,” Barbara Wright replied softly with grim foreboding in her eyes and a sheepish smile on her face, “if that is what you want me to do. If not that, I’ll race against you to slap Francheska’s debreast button…although I really don’t want to hurt my sister’s friend. You must be…very special…to Bill…I think…for him to risk…his chance…to take my body…and risk my life…at Club X…tomorrow night!”

“I suppose…you must be right…Barbara…in view of your own courage and dedication to our mutual friend…as well as your beauty…and youth,” Wanda Maximoff stammered softly, her hands still hefting twin D-cups as her mind focused on the frightening visage at the end of a short timeline that persisted without the subtle fading and sharpening she usually sensed as she explored the winds of change. Her mind screamed, ‘I’m seeing a fixed point in time…an immutable event…an unchangeable outcome…and, I sense, an occurrence somehow important to my own personal timeline…as well as this reality’s. I cannot destroy her…I can’t even punish her…or use her to punish Bill…her fate is sealed.’

“Please, make up your mind, girls,” Fancheska quipped softly from behind her opaque booth window. “It’s me in the debreasting booth right now with my timer running down. It would be a shame to have missed out on breast pampering if…or, if I’m reading Barbara correctly, rather when…I get my debreast button slapped…making this my last booth game ever!”

“Will you make a promise to me, Barbara?” Wanda asked softly with a frown on her face. “The second table of sorority sisters will fill The Wall as soon as your tablemate and I finish our game. IF I let Francheska leave her booth breasted, promise you will play a booth game at my command! Promise that you will either fill the first booth to come empty and will play the debreasting booth game with your booth window set to two-way transparency, or that you will play the game with and harvest the bacon from whichever girl fills that booth instead of you. My choice! Deal?”

“Yes, Miss Wanda,” Barbara Wright replied with a quivering voice. “I agree to your terms. You can have my breasts instead of hers, or make me take another, evidently randomly chosen, girl’s breasts. I’ll do that if you let Francheska keep her breasts.”

“Very well, Barbara Wright,” Wanda Maximoff said while nodding before finally breaking contact with the young girl’s brown eyes and the unfolded fate she beheld within them, “then I lend you these breasts I now hold in my hands to carry back to your table for safekeeping. If I do decide to poach Francheska’s pretty B-cups, they are yours to keep for so long as you live. If not, they are mine, lest I have you fetch me yet another set. Leave now, for I mean to suckle and otherwise pamper your tablemate’s at-risk flesh for another minute or so. Then, three girls will discover which of three sets of breasts will be doomed at my command.”

As she felt the auburn-haired beauty’s hands drop from her D-cups, Barbara nimbly knelt and retrieved her sports bra. As she saw the big-breasted girl dressed in a rose-colored bikini turn back to resume suckling her tablemate’s nipples, the barely legal blonde re-hooked her clasp and started back to her table. The diminutive Latino in booth 4 was moaning with obvious satisfaction at the attention she was getting by the time she took her seat beside her debreasted sister across from the man she hoped would give her papers through marriage. Then sighs and gasps of climax announced the pair of players had entered the final minute of their debreasting booth game—a game obviously made more intense by the repeated faints at booth 4’s debreast button made by Bill Jennings’ mysterious acquaintance.

In the end, a very satisfied Francheska left the debreasting booth and then the Game room with the equipment giving her the lucky option of playing a very interesting game yet one more time, and Wanda retook her seat at her table. As the redheaded sorority sister with green eyes and shoulder-length hair led her tablemates into the Game room, and the Oriental girl joined her dark-skinned sorority sister on the dance floor holding one die, Barbara Wright could only wonder whether she was fated to get her bacon poached the day after her D-cups became legally harvestable. She hoped not. She hoped she would get to join her husband-to-be the next evening for a night filled with lust and potentially fatal danger. The young blonde shrugged her shoulders knowing it was useless to wonder or worry—for now, her fate was in the hands of a gorgeous stranger sitting at the adjacent table named Wanda.

Chapter 15. Henry Pym and the Substitute C-cups

Janet smiled impatiently upwards at her teammate as she watched her hug the petite Latino before the girl took her seat at the adjacent table sporting vouchsafed breasts and the look of satiated victory on her face. As Wanda herself sat, Janet chortled, “Well that was interesting, but a bit confusing from this vantage point. I felt sure you were going to pop her B-cup balloons! Up until the point you were cupping teenage D-cups, that is! What’s up with that?”

Wanda shrugged her shoulders and grinned first at Francheska and then at Barbara, before replying with a happy giggle, “I’m not sure, but I think that Latino hotty and I HAD talked ourselves into sending her luscious breasts to the kitchen. Then Barbara made an offer I couldn’t refuse. She agreed, if Francheska returned to her table breasted, to fill the first booth to come open during this second round of sorority girl gambling, or harvest the breasts off the girl who fills that booth instead of her. There Francheska is…still carrying perfect B-cups! How about it girls? Do one of you want to let your breasts give the young high-school graduate her first and only balloon popping experience? Or would one of you like to be the one to harvest those perfect D-cups riding so high on the teen’s fair-skinned chest?”

“Thanks for the warning, Wanda,” Sue replied softly with a frown on her face as she watched the breasted blonde at the nearby table shiver as she overheard Wanda’s words. “I might have been tempted to implement Dinah’s strategy and take that empty booth. I won’t now! I mean to go home a booth game winner…and without the destruction of another girl’s breasts on my conscience. You were really going to debreast Francheska? Because you wanted to…not out of some sort of spite that might have left your soul soiled?”

Wanda laughed and then asked softly, “Do you really think I’m that impetuous, Sue? I admit I was a bit emotional when I left this table for the dance floor, but I got over that fairly quickly as I talked to Francheska about our mutual favorite pastime…the debreasting booth game. We hadn’t decided how my new Latino friend’s game was to end when Barbara interrupted us, but yes, Sue, I might have debreasted her because WE wanted me to. Maybe I’ll carry her pretty B-cups to the kitchen some other night, if she chooses to continue playing that game…and I’m here when she does. She got lucky one way tonight…she’ll get lucky the other way, eventually. However, we were talking about Barbara’s upcoming game, weren’t we? Why don’t you harvest her tender D-cups, Hank? She is almost veal! Sandwiches made from her meat should be really tasty!”

“Stop it, Wanda!” Sue spat with obvious exasperation as she looked over to Barbara. “Listen, sweety, I’m pretty sure my tablemate is irritated with someone other than yourself, and that she’s pretty much decided to let you play the booth game from the kitchen side, rather than from the Game room. Otherwise she wouldn’t be teasing you. Wanda Maximoff isn’t the mean bitch she’s presently pretending to be!”

“That’s a relief!” Hank Pym chortled gleefully as he watched the young woman at the nearby table blush. “Now I can pop faux Janet’s C-cups without worrying that I might be missing out on some most appealing D-cups.” Hank nodded to the perfect, pinkish-brown tipped C-cups now protruding from booth 1’s debreasting portals and quipped, “Her areolae ARE perfect matches for yours, wouldn’t you say, dear wife? What say you fill booth 1 as soon as I empty it! I bet Barbara’s hands would feel real gentle on your breasts as she pilfers them off your chest! Then, as I cup your chest bandages, I can fantasize about being the one that gave you cause to wear them!”

“Hush up, you big lug!” Janet spat with a wry grin on her face as she wore her own blush. “Yes, that sorority girl’s breasts ARE similar to my own, and no, I won’t get my own balloons popped immediately after you pop hers. Don’t be disappointed, lover boy. I’m just taking care of my husband’s mental health. You know…I just don’t want you to get too much of a good thing too quickly! Otherwise, I WOULD be okay with Barbara poaching my puppies for your viewing pleasure, Hank.”

“JEESE, get a room, you two!” Zatanna spat with mock disgust. “Look, Wanda, none of us are going to use our breasts to give young Barbara that one and only balloon popping experience you said she might have, and Sue’s right, you wouldn’t be teasing her if you planned on making her fill a booth. You AREN’T the mean bitch you’re pretending to be. Something’s up! I’m sure you’ll tell us what that is when the time is right, won’t you?”

Wanda Maximoff blushed beet red, and then retorted, “Maybe later, Zatanna! However, you guys aren’t as smart as you think you are. I CAN tell you that!”

“There is WAY too much drama going on here,” Oliver Queen noted dryly as he nodded out to the dance floor and a topless pair of sorority sisters. “What say we watch the Oriental girl make her die roll. If she manages a 1, Hank may miss out on faux Janet’s substitute C-cups, and take Wanda up on that offer you girls seem to think is just a tease. If not a 1, maybe I’ll send Dinah into booth 1 after Hank empties it and let Barbara avenge her sister’s loss. What do you think of that, sweetheart?”

“Whatever you say, Ollie,” Dinah replied with a big grin on her face. “I’ll get my tits busted right off the bat, if that’s what you really want me to do. However, I was hoping to try to win the booth game on my first stint. That way I’ll get two orgasmatron treatments, and get to ruin at least two sets of tits myself!”

“I also desire to be the cause of more fallen fruit, my eager friend,” Diana interjected as she drained another glass of Lactic Blaster. “I think my ten-minute resting period between jousts is well-since ended. I will watch the die roll, and drain my last glass of this most delicious refreshment. Then will I once again stand in the Bacon Risker box!”

“In that case, I think I’ll have a quick conversation with Tricia about a foxhunt,” Janet announced quickly as she stood from her seat. “If we get lucky, darling, take your time setting her debreasting booth options. I don’t want to miss a single second of balloon popping fun!”

Henry Pym grinned as his wife rushed over to stand just outside of the Balance Beam Joust game combat zone and waved the older of the blonde sisters over to her. Then he turned his attention to a very important die roll.

“Okay, this is it, Shirah!” the long-haired Oriental girl with perfect pinkish-brown-tipped B-cups proclaimed to her short-haired dark-skinned tablemate with swooping B-cups tipped with thick brownish nipples. “I need to roll a 1 or 2, or you and I sit back down.”

“You can do it, Toni!” Shirah replied with a satisfied grin on her face. “Give one of us a chance to send one of our sisters from Della’s table home baconless. However, even if you come up short, sis, those five girls are gonna to spend 10 minutes in those bacon traps with the vultures circlin’. That’s why we took OUR tube tops off girls. Somethin’ tells me most all of you will be leavin’ the Game room wishin’ you were carryin’ B-cups like us!”

“Right, Shirah,” Toni giggled joyfully, “my 2 on my first die cast that put our table in the Game room first might have been a lucky roll after all…for you and I at least. Here goes!” The Oriental girl tossed the die on the floor, and watched unblinkingly as the cube bounced and spun until she shrieked “TWO! I WON! You get to role, Shirah, for a chance to pop one of their sets of balloons!”

“ALRIGHT!” Shirah squealed as she quickly retrieved the die from the floor. “Nice role, Toni! I want to do some bacon poachin’! Now, who’s it gonna to be?” The thin black girl grinned mischievously down the row of sorority girls behind transparent windows as she walked over to booth 1 and cupped a perfect breast in her right hand while she stared into the redhead’s green eyes, “How about you, Della? Killin’ these nice C-cups would be plenty fun! More fun than pluckin Shadi’s droopin’ B-cups from booth 2’s portals, or Kayla’s big droopin’ double D’s out of booth 3’s portals, or even Cho’s perky swoopin’ C-cups out of booth 5’s portals. Yeah, I’m gonna roll a 1 and pop your balloons, Della!”

The sorority sister moved down the lineup of at-risk breasts pinching the nipples of the breasts she had just described, carefully skipping the perfect C-cups protruding from booth 4. Then she stepped back to those C-cups and lifted a left breast in her right hand as she stared into the brunette’s brown eyes and decreed, “Yep, I’m gonna get a 1 and do Della’s tits a terrible wrong, unless I get a four and harvest these nice C-cups off your chest Cassandra. It ain’t that I got somethin’ against you white girls, or that I don’t have a hankerin’ for Navajo, Jamaican, or Korean bacon. It’s just that I want it to be a pair of perfect breasts that I’m carryin’ ta the kitchen counter! Time to roll!” The dark-skinned girl’s brown eyes gleamed with excitement as she flipped the die into the air and watched it bounce and spin on the dance floor.

“Ice HOT!” Shirah shouted as she stared down at the snake eye pointed toward the ceiling, drowning out the groan that came from Hank Pym, as his chances to play a game with faux Janet seemed to be dwindling, and the gasp that came from Barbara, as she realized the blonde male might just be forced to settle for harvesting her own breasts after all. “You my girl, Della, cause, as you can see, I rolled a 1. How about that?”

Della gulped loudly, before replying, “Good for you, Shirah, but maybe not so good for me. I just hope none of my tablemates were stupid enough to write down ‘de-clit option yes’, or that you get a 6 on your final roll and you two have to take seats at your table. Make your final die roll, Shirah, and then, barring it being a 6, go ahead and set my debreast options without telling me how my breasts are going to get murdered, or if I’m going to get my clit stretched. I want my fate to be a surprise.”

“You got it, Della!” Shirah chirped gleefully. “Here goes! Anything but a 6!” The dark-skinned sorority sister sent the die spinning to the dance floor.

Meanwhile, Tricia had moved to stand before Janet, careful to stay within the clothes free zone where her nudity wouldn’t get her fillet purchased, and had asked, “What’s up, Janet number three? What can I do for you?”

Janet laughed at the blonde’s clone joke before replying, “Information, Tricia, that’s what you can do for me. You said earlier that you know about an upcoming illegal foxhunt, and that you and your sisters were considering letting yourselves get kidnapped into the game. It’s going to happen Wednesday, right?”

“Yes, Janet, that’s right,” Tricia chirped with an excited grin on her face, “if you mean Wednesday after next, about a week and a half from today. You’ve heard about it too, then?”

“Not exactly, Tricia,” Janet replied grinning broadly while fighting the butterflies in her stomach that always hit her when Wanda’s foretelling came true. “Tell me where and what time, and how things are likely to go down.”

“Sure thing, Janet,” Tricia agreed while giggling happily. “Around midnight that Wednesday night about a dozen men will divide into three or four teams, and form a perimeter around an all-night liquor store located in a quiet residential apartment neighborhood about one-mile due north of Final Fantasy. Those guys will consider any girl, or pair of girls, unlucky enough to be out on the street in the vicinity of that store that night without a male escort fair game. Such girls will end up kidnapped sows and used, first as foxes come daybreak, and then, if they aren’t adept at playing hide and seek, as barbecue meat at the end of the day.”

“Yeah,” Janet acknowledged with a sheepish grin on her face, “you said the stakes for not hiding well enough were hanging or hand spitting. Naturally, I had already assumed getting cooked and eaten followed either fate. How is the actual kidnapping handled during these affairs? How do they keep their kidnap victims from screaming for the nearest policeman?”

“That’s a silly question, Janet,” Tricia replied while shaking her head in disbelief. “The guys running those foxhunts warn the police…police girls…very few men would take such a lowly position…ahead of time. That way, no cops will be in the area and at risk of being accused of ignoring the law…or at risk of being kidnapped into the game themselves. As for how the kidnapping goes, the guys just grab a girl’s arm and keep her from running until she’s tied or shackled. Any girl that tries to run is going to end up tackled to the ground and then trussed up, and any girl that puts up a serious fight gets chloroformed. Smart girls just surrender and hope they make good foxes. Those guys usually make an example out of one or two troublemakers before the foxhunt begins!”

“I see,” Janet said nodding in disbelief, “and you and your sisters thought this would be fun, and were going to get yourselves intentionally kidnapped by men whose ultimate goal is to end your life? That’s crazy! What were you going to do, just walk up and say, ‘Hello sir, can we be foxes?’”

“No…and not were…are, Janet,” Tricia retorted suspiciously. “We’re not stupid. Actual volunteers could turn out to be pro foxes that would provide additional danger to the men themselves, and therefore likely to be the ones being used as examples before the foxhunt begins. Tina and Jill will head for the liquor store just after midnight, and allow themselves to get bagged and tagged. A half-hour later I’ll wander around the neighborhood looking for my sisters, hopefully ending up in the same predicament. We’ll behave until the foxhunt begins, and then stick together as we seek the best cover available in whatever forest we get taken to. We’re going to rely on hiding instead of fighting back, and don’t plan on using the knives and docking tubes we get issued at the start of the hunt.”

“That sounds like a smart plan, Tricia,” Janet acknowledged while grinning broadly. “I hope you don’t mind if my friends and I copy you. We country girls are looking for adventure! Why are you and your sisters going to intentionally risk your lives?”

“We’re looking for all the fun we can get out of life, Janet number three,” Tricia admitted with a sheepish grin, “because those lives aren’t likely to be long. As I told Janet number two, statistically speaking, we are overdue for one of us to get debreasted while playing a booth game, and we’ve made a pact to cover that contingency. We’ve made the same pact regarding The Lottery. The night one of us gets debreasted, or the day one of us gets a notice to report to a government conversion facility, we are all going to simultaneously ride the three Jessica’s they have here at Final Fantasy.”

“Yeah, I re…my sister told me, Tricia,” Janet said as she nodded while trying to keep her lips from forming a frown. “Then we’ll see you there in the hunting camp. OH! One final question! If we survive the foxhunt, how do we get back to the liquor store area?”

“The men that kidnap us will play fair, Janet,” Tricia replied with a knowing look on her face. “The foxhunt will begin at sunrise and end at 5 p.m. Then one of their wives will show up with a small bus. That wife will ferry the few foxes returning to camp of their own accord after 5 p.m. back to their neighborhoods, while the men make meat of the bulk of the foxes who became captives during the hunt. That way the cops are unlikely to get any complaints they can’t ignore, despite a couple of dozen girls suddenly gone missing, and any survivors finding themselves being kidnapped again at a later date, will likely be even more cooperative. After all, they got to play an exciting game of hide and seek, with a 15-minute head start and the risk of becoming meat. As we all eventually become meat, the penalty for getting caught isn’t all that unpalatable.”

“I’ll take your word for it, Tricia,” Janet spat with obvious disgust, before hastily adding, “that the men will play fair. I’m not a fan of long walks home. A warning for you and your sisters…Diana will soon be back to play the Balance Beam Joust game. Better grab any needed breaks now.” Janet twisted her head to look out at the dance floor as she heard a groan of disappointment, and then turned back to Tricia, “That sounded like my cue to return to my table. Have fun tonight, and good luck to you and your sisters Thursday morning about two weeks from now, Tricia.” Janet Van Dyne hurried away with valuable intelligence locked in her mind.

“NO!” Shirah spat and then groaned loudly in disappointment as she stared at the cube now resting on the dance floor. “A 6 on my final die roll! I don’t get to carry your C-cups to the kitchen after all, Della. Damn my bad luck!”

“Sorry, Shirah,” Della replied facetiously while wearing an obvious grin of relief, “you do know I would have happily let you flatten my chest so long as I got to keep my sex life intact. Now…hopefully…I’ll make it through this silly gamble no worse for the wear.”

“Yeah, well, good luck with that, sis,” Shirah spat with obvious bitterness as she watched Toni retrieve the die from the floor, “cause the vultures look to be circlin’ already.” She nodded back to the handful of girls filtering through the tables toward the dance floor. “I bet their hungry for clit candy as well as sandwich meat too, Della. Come on, Toni. Let’s take our seats and watch the fun really begin!”

Wanda smiled as she watched relief flood across Barbara’s face and excitement fill Hank Pym’s eyes, and then urged, “You better get up there in front of booth 1, Hank, if you want the redhead’s C-cups for yourself. Once you start setting her debreasting options, she’s all yours. None of the bacon hunters can cut in on you at that point without riding a Jessica. However, once you start setting her options, you have to see the debreasting all the way through, and carry her bacon to the kitchen, or you’ll get yourself docked. OH! And if you’re no longer hungry, just tell the kitchen to keep the bacon, but you’ll skip the sandwiches. GO!”

Janet, having just arrived back at her table, gave her husband a quick hug as he stood, and chortled, “Go bust her tits, husband of mine, but don’t you dare tell her you’re pretending she’s someone else. It’s her game too, you know!”

“Yes, darling, I know,” Hank said while grinning at his wife before flashing a smile at Wanda, “and thanks for the tips, Wanda. Do try to keep Janet from hurting that behind of hers while she bounces on her chair as I play with her substitute C-cups with bad intentions!” Hank Pym hurried onto the dance floor to do something he never imagined possible.

“This should be interesting,” Wanda admitted softly as she watched the scientist hurry away. Then she turned back to Janet and whispered, “Wednesday night?”

“Yeah, twelve nights from now, due north around midnight, within reasonable walking distance of Final Fantasy, Wanda,” Janet whispered back wearing an excited grin. “We get kidnapped in pairs, and as long as we look reluctant but wise enough not to try to put up a fight, we should become foxes without too much danger of getting ourselves killed before the hunt begins the next morning.”

“Good!” Wanda spat softly. “Then we finally get to strike back in the name of womankind. Those men won’t know what hit them, and, with any luck, the authorities won’t realize that a revolution has just begun. Hmmm! We’re going to need a key! Never mind! We have some debreastings to watch before we need to worry about that.”

“Yes, Wanda,” Janet chortled gleefully, “we do have your favorite form of entertainment about to begin. Hank got to the front of booth 1 first. I wonder what he’s saying?”

“Hello, Miss,” Hank Pym chortled happily as he flashed a friendly smile at the young college coed in booth 1, “could we talk a moment? My name’s Hank Pym by the way.”

“Sure thing, Mr. Pym,” Della replied softly while giggling as she stared into the gleaming blue eyes of the man in front of her. “I don’t mind talking about anything you want, Sir. Talking for about nine more minutes sounds like a great way to pass the time to me just now! My name is Della, Sir.”

“Yes, I’m sitting fairly close to the dance floor, so I heard, Della,” Hank admitted while chuckling heartily. “Please do call me Hank! May I fondle your pretty breasts, Della, while we talk for a while? I’m sorry if that seems a bit forward of me. It just seems to be a natural thing to do, what with them protruding through those portals.”

“Sure, Hank, you can play with my breasts while we talk,” Della agreed with a twinkle in her eyes as she flashed her sexiest smile at the muscular man before her. “That is what the debreasting portals are for…partly at least. Hopefully, you don’t plan on utilizing them to their full potential, though, and ARE just here for a good long talk.”

“I’ll have to be honest, Della,” Hank said softly as he gently cupped the perfect breasts in his hands, “we’re most likely going to be doing more than just talking. I wouldn’t want you to get your hopes crushed. However, let’s not worry about that for a while. What are you studying at college, Della? What year are you in?”

“I just finished my junior year, Hank, and I’m studying biophysics,” Della replied while giggling softly but nervously. “I plan on continuing my education once I get my degree. If I can achieve a Ph.D. and earn a reputation as a cutting-edge research scientist, I might be able to get papered even without marrying. I know! All of us silly girls dream about being exempted from The Lottery!”

“There is nothing wrong with that, Della,” Hank Pym said softly as he began tweaking the redhead’s nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. “I’m a scientist myself…I’m a biochemist who also dabbles in robotics. What do you think you would like to specialize in?”

“I’ll give you a truthful answer, Hank,” Della replied with concern forming on her face, “if you’ll promise not to hold an honest answer against a girl. First, however, you’d best make your intentions regarding my breast bacon clear to the girls around you, and nod to the Jessica machine I’m hoping not to ride after I give you that honest answer. The bacon hunters might get brave enough to reach for my debreasting controls despite the fact you’re playing with me.”

“That wouldn’t be good for either of our sakes,” Hank admitted with a silly grin on his face. He turned and announced loudly and clearly, “These lovely C-cups hanging out of booth 1’s debreasting portals are mine to harvest. Any girl reaching for booth 1’s computer console will be sent to ride the Jessica machine just to my left. You are all free to play games with the girls in the other four booths.”

Hank grinned as the girls around him quickly gave ground with fear in their eyes, and then he turned back to Della and asked, “Well, young lady, now that I’ve gone and done that, have I committed to harvesting your pretty ta tas? Will I get docked if I don’t follow through? And, after you’ve answered those questions, please do tell me about the work you’d like to do. You’ll not find yourself on Jessica’s back for talking about biophysics with me.”

“Ta tas?” Della asked with obvious curiosity and a delightful laugh. “I’ve never heard breasts called THAT before. Hank, I’m not sure anyone would insist on having you docked if you failed to fulfill your promise to harvest my bacon and provide much needed meat to the worldwide food chain, but such an action on your part WOULD be considered to be in very bad taste. However, we don’t really need to worry about THAT happening, do we, Hank?”

“No, Della, I suppose we don’t,” Hank Pym admitted as he blushed badly. He dropped his fingers from turgid nipples and gently lifted two perfect C-cups in the palms of his hands. “I’ll be taking these with me when I leave the front of this debreasting booth. However, surprisingly, I’d rather not talk about your lovely breasts just yet. Let’s hear about your career goals…the scientific discoveries you hope to make.”

“And my sex life, Hank?” Della asked in a quivering voice as resignation filled her green eyes. “Will you take that with you as well?”

“Your clitoris WILL get stretched if you don’t answer my question, young lady,” Hank Pym spat impatiently. “Beyond that, no. Now get on with it, Della!”

“Well, don’t laugh, Sir…or get angry,” the redhead replied nervously, “but I’d like to specialize in cloning. If not that, then tissue regeneration. There you have it! I’d like to find a way to at least augment the worldwide food supply.”

“An understandable goal, Della, given this society’s circumstances,” Hank chortled while smiling from ear to ear. “It’s a goal that I, as a scientist, deem to be commendable, although I’m sure there is a lot of pressure from those in charge to maintain the status quo. It’s an interesting choice of specialties that you’ve chosen to choose between. Although the science behind both cloning and tissue regeneration have substantially similar bases, they have dramatically different problems to overcome. With cloning, it is nearly impossible to achieve DNA stabilization. With age, cellular structure in the individual clones becomes unstable, and you’re faced with the most nasty forms of cancer, and with species propogation, the gene sequencing becomes transmuted from one generation to another until sexual reproduction is no longer feasible. With tissue regeneration you have the opposite problem. You can regenerate newly damaged tissue fairly consistently, but, with the passage of time, it seems that the body resets its default sequences to accept the damaged state as the status quo, and reproduction of the damaged parts is no longer possible.”

“Yes, but even with those challenges, we could reproduce farm animals from stored DNA, couldn’t we, Hank,” Della asked softly with hope in her eyes, “and, cull the adults after breeding while they’re healthy, and simply start over again from the same stored DNA when the clones’ gene sequencing degrades to the point of reproductive sterility, however many reproductive cycles later? With tissue regeneration, assuming we could figure out how to accurately reproduce complex body parts from basic chemical and physical constituents, couldn’t we just install regenerators where injuries are most likely to occur…or even use them to replace body parts harvested to contribute to the worldwide food supply? Why not regenerate the breasts of girls as soon as they’ve donated their bacon, and let them donate again and again if that’s what they want…or is needed of them?”

“You know, Della, you are a true visionary!” Hank Pym spat with genuine appreciation. “You will most likely earn those papers you yearn for, and live a very long life without having to worry about lotteries.”

“Thank you for saying so, Hank!” Della replied with a happy giggle. “Most men wouldn’t think much of my uppity ideas. You are right about the problems with tissue regeneration and old wounds though, Hank. I guess if I live that long life, it’s going to be without breasts!”

“Damn, I’m sorry…I wasn’t thinking…!” Hank stammered while blushing badly.

“Not your fault, Hank!” Della quickly interjected. “You didn’t order me into this bacon trap!”

“No…I didn’t…did I…Della?” Hank agreed quietly as he nodded down at the breasts he was holding. “Why did you choose to stick these lovely chest ornaments into a bacon trap…if you don’t mind my asking?”

“Peer pressure, mostly Hank,” Della admitted with obvious embarrassment. “When both the boys’ and girls’ gymnastic teams won the tournament championship, virtually every sorority on campus got their members to pledge to offer their breast bacon as donations to the worldwide food chain tonight. My sorority is different only in the way we’ve chosen to make those offers. I guess we got a bit carried away…when it comes to leaving our debreasting options up to…. How are you going to accept my donations, Hank?”

“Time we talked about your lovely breasts, is it, Della?” Hank asked softly with a silly grin on his face as he gently tickled the undersides of the redhead’s C-cups. “I did read the debreasting option menu…before I came onto the dance floor…and I do know what I’d like to see…up close and personal…as well as what I’d rather not be part of. What did you write down on your slip of paper? What would have Shirah done to you if she had rolled a 1?”

“Well, Hank, this is a bit embarrassing, but I wrote down razor-wire loops as the debreasting method one of my tablemates might get to suffer…or myself,” Della replied with a sheepish smile on her face and laughter in her voice. “Watching the girls from that other sorority getting their balloons popped by razor-wire nooses as that huge-breasted girl sent them toppling off the balance beam made me hot! I thought…why not give someone a chance to feel something similar…and with a dead-slow setting…pretend it’s taking so long because it’s that Bacon Risker’s monster DD’s in the nooses! Silly…wasn’t I…Hank?”

“Not so much so, Della,” Hank Pym disagreed with a hearty chuckle as he returned to tweaking rock-hard nipples, “as I found watching those girls’ breasts having to deal with tightening razor-wire nooses and gravity a real turn on myself!” Hank glanced around him and noted that there was now quite a crowd on the dance floor, and that the girls in the other four booths were all having their breasts fondled by hungry looking kitchen-side players. Hank asked softly with a mixture of excitement and sadness in his gleaming blue eyes, “Should I start setting your debreasting options, Della? A friend at my table told me that would keep anyone else from cutting in on our game, but would require me to finish what I start. If so, should I use the options you wrote on your slip of paper?”

“I suppose you might as well seal my fate, Hank,” Della agreed while giggling nervously. “However, I don’t want you to feel guilty for having done so…or sorry for me. One of the hungry bacon hunters behind you will do me if you walk away, and I would rather have my donations accepted by a handsome man like yourself. Most girls make partial donations to the worldwide food chain while they’re still young these days, Hank. I was pretty sure I would be doing that tonight. I’m pretty sure my entire table will be leaving the game room having made partial donations, and most of us with our sex lives ruined. Don’t tell me what options you’re setting…even if you use what I wrote down. Surprise me! Even if part of that surprise…is getting my clit stretched! I promise not to check the screen in here!”

“Very well, you young vixen,” Hank chortled with obvious excitement, “I’ll take back any promise I might have made about letting you keep your clitoris! I’ll start setting your debreasting booth options while keeping them to myself, but with everything at risk of being harvested.” Hank laughed as he watched the redhead gulp and then flash him her sexiest smile, and went to work on the computer console controls beside her booth window.

“Hank’s setting her debreasting options!” Janet squealed feverishly as she bounced on her chair. “I’m going to get to see how he’d knock my puppies off, if not for Wanda’s rule number one.”

“Do you really think Hank would ruin your tits if he had the chance, Janet?” Dinah asked with obvious interest in her gleaming blue eyes.

“Oh, hell yes he would, Dinah!” Janet exclaimed with certainty. “He’d do it in a heartbeat to make me pay for what I made him do to get here. I’m lucky he has faux Janet’s substitute breasts to work out his frustrations on, and that he doesn’t love me even a tiny bit less than he does. Otherwise, even Jessica’s back wouldn’t be out of the question!”

“The boys aren’t likely to be THAT peeved at us, Janet,” Dinah asserted with widened eyes as she stared at her bearded boyfriend. “They volunteered! You wouldn’t want to be the one that kills my tits, would you Ollie, if not for rule number one?”

“That’s a silly question, sweetheart,” Oliver Queen replied dryly with a gleam in his green eyes, “of course I would have grabbed the chance to ruin your pretty boobs for you. Wanda was smart to make us men agree to rule number one BEFORE we bought our ticket to Final Fantasy. Hmmm! Janet’s given me an interesting idea. Wanda didn’t make us agree to any rule about not putting girlfriends on Jessica’s back…or tablemates. I could see you out there on the patio squirming over hot coals, sweetheart. Do you think I’m THAT peeved?”

Diana burst into laughter before declaring, “Mayhap you girls should decline to answer friend Oliver’s question, while you watch friend Henry take out his frustrations on yon redhead’s Janet-like bosom. For me, ‘tis time for jousting, and for the sending of more fallen fruit to yon kitchen.” The Amazon warrior quickly drained her eighth glass of Lactic Blaster and hurried over to the Bacon Risker box where she stripped off her bikini and began belting up.

“There we have it, Della,” Hank Pym chortled jovially as he looked from the computer console to the quivering breasts he was palming as he used his thumbs to tease twin nipples, and then up into the redhead’s green eyes filled with anticipation, but showing only a little fear. “Your debreasting options are set. No one will be interfering with our game together now. How much time is left on your timer?”

“About seven minutes, Hank,” Della replied softly as she flashed the muscular man before her booth window a sexy smile. “I do hope you set us up with an interesting demonstration of debreasting booth technology. Final Fantasy is said to be the best venue on the planet when it comes to that!”

“Yes, I’ve been most impressed myself with the intricate equipment contained in these booths,” Hank admitted with a sheepish grin on his face. “Don’t worry, you’re not going to get the guillotine blade, or have your breasts cooked on your chest either. I do admit the Hot dogger option, which uses the breasts’ resistance to conducting electrical current to cook the flesh from the inside out, is an interesting application of biophysics, but I want to rub and suckle your breasts as they slowly become mine. I imagine that change of possession will likely hurt a bit though, Della. Sorry about that!”

“Not to be a stickler about details, Hank,” Della giggled nervously as she struggled to maintain her smile, “but it’s going to hurt a lot as you poach my bacon. Pain is just part of the donation process. Actually, most everyone believes partial donation should be a painful process, which is why the breast bacon is never harvested at a hospital with the donating girl under general, or even local, anesthesia. It’s also why debreasting booth nightclubs tie the intensity of the orgasmatron beam rewards to donation method and duration. I’m glad you didn’t try to do me a favor, and give me a quick but rather unrewarding debreasting by guillotine blade. I’m also glad you plan to give me some breast pleasuring as you accept my donations.”

Hank Pym smiled, bent forward, and gently suckled on one breast tip at a time, eliciting soft moans of pleasure from the redhead on the other side of the booth wall, before straightening back up and admitting with obvious embarrassment, “While this IS this country boy’s first visit to a debreasting booth nightclub, the girls at my table did give me some pointers. They made sure I understood this is a game with two players that should be fun for both. I’ll try to have your breasts glowing with pleasure before the donation process really gets going. I guess I should ask about your preferred residence time in that bacon trap, though. I’d be thrilled to play with your lovely breasts for the full nine minutes or so, Della, and slap your debreast button with seconds left, thereby extending our game. However, I realize that, now that your debreasting options have been locked in, and you know how your game is going to end…for the most part…you might want to shorten the apprehension you must surely be feeling. I’m guess what I’m trying to ask is…when…?”

“When do I want my debreast button slapped, dooming my breasts to certain death, Hank?” Della asked as she giggled jovially at the handsome man’s clumsy attempt at chivalry. “You ARE a very sweet and handsome man, Mr. Pym. I truthfully wouldn’t mind more than a few more minutes of breast pleasuring before that dooming is fully initiated. However, could you check and see if the debreasting options have been set on any of my tablemates yet, Hank…before I answer the when question?”

“Sure thing, Della,” Hank replied with obvious bemusement on his face. He glanced to his right and carefully studied the girls playing with breasts dangling from the other booths’ debreasting portals for a few seconds before acknowledging, “While I can’t actually read any of the other computer consoles, I’m pretty sure all of the other kitchen-side players are in the pre-option-setting tease and taunt mode. They all have a hungry look on their faces though, as do many of the girls on the dance floor behind them….”

“Those girls I can see, Hank,” Della interjected laughingly, before continuing much more nervously. “If you have chosen an interesting way…to accept my donations, Hank…those girls will put their games on hold…and watch my balloons getting popped. If that popping takes long enough…some of my tablemates…might escape their bacon traps intact. It’s worth a try…don’t you think?”

“Yes, I suppose they might, Della,” Hank replied softly with a friendly smile on his face. “You’re a real heroine as well as a true visionary, you young vixen. Let’s hope your plan works, but please don’t be disappointed if it doesn’t.”

“I won’t, Hank,” the redhead replied with a quiver in her voice and apprehension in her gleaming green eyes, “I promise! Please press….” Della’s sentence ended unfinished as she gasped at the clicking sound that meant her debreast button had been activated, and then she rasped, “Thanks…for doing…that.”

“My pleasure, you gorgeous girl with a lovely soul and first-class mind,” Hank Pym replied softly with as much encouragement as he could muster. “Let’s make the next few minutes the subject of your Senior Seminar thesis, if they have those at the Physics or Biology Departments at Metropolitan University, Della. While I concentrate on using my mouth and hands to pleasure your pretty breasts, I want you to describe in scientific terms what is happening to the chest ornaments you have so graciously chosen to donate tonight. Can you do that, my lovely young scholar?”

“I can try, Hank,” Della replied with a nervous giggle as she watched the serious look on the scientist’s face morph back into a silly grin, “if you can get started on your end of that bargain. As I didn’t hear my booth’s docking tube compartment open after you slapped my debreast button, I don’t imagine you’ll be snipping my nipples off my breast tips before you begin using your mouth on them. That’s a plus.”

“I thought so too,” Hank chortled softly, before bending and taking Della’s left nipple into his warm mouth, suckling gently on it, and then swirling his tongue around its turgid base. He was rewarded with a moan of pleasure, which grew louder as he changed breasts and repeated his suckling technique on the redhead’s right nipple. Then, as he pinched erect nipples between thumbs and forefingers, he grumbled, “It takes more than one person to fulfill a bargain, Della!”

“Uhhh…right…yeah…sorry, Hank,” Della stammered with a deer-in-headlights look on her face. “A length of razor wire just popped out of my booth wall…and it has loops that were around the margins of my debreasting portals held into circles by small metal clips at the top and bottom of each loop…each end of the razor wire length disappears into my booth side walls just rear of my forward booth wall. The twin loops are being drawn backwards against my chest…so presumably the wire ends lead to one or more spoolers that are shortening the wire length. Thanks for satisfying my curiosity, Hank. You’re a really nice guy, but the wire will soon be firmly against my chest. You need to tug on my breasts now…before the razor wire loops start tightening around their bases. Please tug…we need to make sure all of my bacon goes to the kitchen!”

“Yes, young vixen,” Hank Pym chortled jovially as he stared with fascination at the thin strand of wire the redhead was describing, “gently tug I will on the nipples I had already wisely pinched. Please do keep on with your dissertation as I do so.” The scientist laughed as he heard Della gasp with surprise as she felt her perfect C-cups change shape as they were distended as he pulled on their tips.

“Razor wire loops!” Janet squealed with obvious delight as she bounced and squirmed on her chair. “Those substitutes for my breasts are going to get slowly strangled to death, before they pop off that girl’s chest and into my husband’s hands! Coolies! This is YOUR favorite debreasting booth option isn’t it, Wanda?”

“One of them, Janet,” Wanda Maximoff replied softly as she grinned happily at the excitement on her teammate’s face. “However, I’ll not be comfortable with proclaiming one debreasting booth option as my favorite until I’ve tried…watched…most if not all of the options…the ones that allow breasts to go to the kitchen intact and uncooked at least. I’ve only done…I mean…only one of my identical sisters has done a booth stint. You and Sue are one up on me when it comes to debreasting booth stints…sisters doing debreasting booth stints, I mean.”

“Don’t be jealous, Wanda,” Zatanna chortled with a look of contempt on her face, “I’m sure your lookalikes will surpass Janet and Sue’s lookalikes in the race to donate the most breasts to 41^st Century kitchens in no time at all.” The raven-haired magician joined her table in laughing at the auburn-haired beauty’s blush before admitting, “Sorry, Wanda, I shouldn’t pick on you for your balloon popping passion! It seems a lot of girls in this nightclub share it. Hank and faux Janet’s game is attracting quite a crowd…including the girls who were playing at the front of the other booths. If those substitute C-cups last long enough, the redhead will be the only sorority sister from her table to get debreasted!”

“I suspect that admirable goal is why Hank started the redhead’s endgame so early in her booth stint,” Sue said softly while nodding with a frown on her face. “I’ll bet she asked our scientist friend to slap her button in hopes her tablemates would have their own breasts spared as the audience watched her own getting harvested. I don’t think any of the other girls have had their debreasting options set yet. Unfortunately, Hank and faux Janet got their timing wrong!”

“What do you mean, Sue?” Oliver Queen asked softly. “As you said, none of the other booth players got their options set before Hank doomed the redhead’s knockers. The redhead’s tits have the audience’s attention while the other players’ timers are running down. Looks like a well-timed distraction to me.”

“Yeah, good timing for the other booth players,” Dinah agreed while nodding out to the Balance Beam Jousting game area, “but not so good for our warrior woman. Those two youngish looking black girls out there had just sent Diana out onto the balance beam from the Bacon Risker box and were preparing to take Bacon Poacher boxes and strip when the excitement started. Now they’re watching the booth game too, while our friend perches on that narrow beam with her big breasts noosed up.”

“No, Ollie and Dinah, when I said that Hank and the redhead got their timing wrong, I wasn’t talking about when they started their distraction,” Sue corrected with sorrow in her eyes as she stared out to booth 1. “There were more than five-and-a-half minutes left on those sorority sisters’ timers when Hank hit the girl’s debreast button. On a dead slow speed setting, my D-cups…my sister’s breasts…lasted just about three minutes in razor wire loops. I doubt that poor girl’s C-cups are going to still be living breasts about two minutes from now. Look, the loops are snug around her breast bases now!”

“YES!” Janet spat gleefully. “Sue’s right! My husband will be holding a pair of poached puppies in his hands in plenty of time for us to get to see some more debreasting booth action. Am I the only one here hoping to see all five of those ‘POOR’ college girls get their bacon sent to the kitchen? You and Zatanna should join me in that hope, Sue. The more tables with full bellies in the room, the greater the chance that your breasts aren’t snapped up as sandwich ingredients when you start doing booth stints!” Janet laughed at the thoughtful look that suddenly filled the bigger breasted blonde’s face.”

“The spoolers retracting the wire into my booth’s side walls seem be turning really slowly now,” Della observed softly with confusion in her green eyes. “I can hardly tell the wire length is still being shortened! Are there indentations completely around my breast bases yet, Hank?”

“Yeah, Della there are deep indentations…to the point where I can’t see the loops now,” Hank Pym confirmed softly with his fascination obvious on his face. “The creases around the bases of your pretty ta tas may be as much as a half inch deep now. I selected ‘dead slow’ for your debreasting speed setting…so the slow retraction rate we were seeing earlier made sense. However, I wonder why the tightening of the razor wire loops has almost stopped now? Maybe something got jammed!”

“I don’t think so, Hank,” Della replied softly while giggling nervously. “Not that I would complain if it had and I got to get out of this booth without letting you carry my breast bacon to the kitchen. No! I think there is a more scientific explanation. I think the debreasting booth’s computer is being clever. I think the loops are being tightened much more slowly because the computer is trying to match the razor wire’s pressure around the bases of my boobies with my skin’s shear strength. I think the computer’s been programmed to strangle my breasts for as long as possible, before the cutting begins. At any rate, my breast meat is trapped on your side of the wire loops now, Hank. You can stop tugging on my nipples now please, and if you’d like….

“Sure thing, Della,” Hank chortled jovially while grinning at the pretty redhead though the booth window as he released her nipples and began tickling the undersides of her balling breasts, “I’ll go back to pleasuring your pretty breasts. I’ll do my best to make you regret that this will be your last breast pleasuring ev…. NO! I didn’t mean that the way it sounded….”

“I know, Hank, don’t worry about your words…worry about your nipple suckling!” Della urged while laughing at the handsome blonde man’s blushing face. “Those ‘ta tas’ you’re holding in your hands were destined for this evening’s execution from the second I agreed to join my sorority’s pledge. I’m happy that you’ve agreed to give me one last fond memory of having them! What do they look like…my pretty ta tas being strangled on my chest?”

Hank Pym glanced downward and watched closely as the bases of the sorority girl’s breasts slowly compressed, and then replied in his gentlest voice, “Your pretty chest ornaments are quite balled up and red, Della. The razor wire loops are choking off the blood supply to your breasts. Please continue with your dissertation and tell me what is happening to you…what you’re feeling. I hope you’re finding this interesting…I mean…I know it must be quite uncomfortable if not painful…but….”

“Yes, Hank, I know,” Della acknowledged with a hearty chuckle, “you want to know what it feels like to get your bacon poached, and hope I find getting my balloons popped interesting despite the complaints my brain is bound to get from my nervous system as the air slowly leaks out of them. Please suckle as I talk!”

Della moaned softly as she watched the blond stranger lower his head and then felt the gentle suction on her left nipple, and chortled, “Thanks, handsome! My breasts are tingling from the restricted blood supply, and feel very strange as their bases continue to slowly compress, but they aren’t numb or hurting yet.” Then she heard some clicking sounds, and felt something fall from her well-pinched breasts.

“OHHhhhaaaa!” Della moaned as the suction shifted to her right nipple just as a wave of pleasure rushed through her vulva. “I have the feeling things ARE about to get interesting. My orgasmatron emitter just kicked on as those clips holding the razor wire in loop form dropped away…now that the indentations into my breast bases are enough to hold the wire in place. Ah oh! An itchiness just started around my breast bases! Has the wire started cutting into me now, Hank?”

Hank smiled as he looked up just as Della moaned loudly with pleasure and her eyes rolled upward, and then glanced back down to the girl’s breasts and observed, “Your breasts are purplish in color, and badly balled. I can’t see the razor wire, but I can’t see any blood either. I’ll check again in a few seconds, but first I’m going to go back to breast pleasuring. I want to see if I can suck milk from your pretty teats, Della!”

“Milk?” Della asked flabbergasted, and then moaned has she felt the man suck hard on her left nipple as he gently fondled her breasts with his hands. “Don’t be ridiculous, Hank, you have to have been preg…OHHhaaa! ggGGAAhhh! UHUH! Oh GOD! I’m coming…so hard! OHHhhh! My breasts…their bases really ITCH!”

Henry Pym grinned happily as he heard the sheer pleasure being exuded from the redhead in the booth, and then pulled his head back from her turgid nipple as he heard concern join her rapture. He frowned as he informed the young sorority girl, “You were right about the itching sensation, Della. It was from your skin parting. I can see some blood now…but not much of it.” The scientist looked up, saw the girl nod with an embarrassed smile on her face, and then throw her head back and issue a long staccato sigh of climax. As the sigh subsided, he added, “Your breasts are un-balling…resuming their natural shape…leaving the razor wire loops buried quite deeply in your bosom as your tissue parts now that its shear resistance has been exceeded. Does it…?”

“Hurt?” the redhead asked as she realized the man playing with her doomed breasts wasn’t going to finish his question. “Hell yes, and the agony…is increasing by the second! The pleasure beams…feel nice though. Can you suckle…a little more? I’m going to…cum again…soon!”

“Sure thing, Della,” Hank replied softly with concern obvious on his face. He put his lips over the redhead’s right nipple and gave it a good long sucking until she was moaning again, very loudly with pain clearly coloring the sound of orgasm. Then the scientist pulled his head back and used the palms of his hands to lift the girl’s breasts while he noted how loose they were on her chest. “Hang in there, my lovely vixen. I don’t think the hurting will go on much longer…” Hank paused and used his right thumb and forefinger to push open the wound at the top of the sorority girl’s left breast, before continuing with, “…I’m pretty sure you’re more than half done….”

“Hank!” Della gasped with indignation. “Leave my wound alone! I’m not…a science fair…project….” The redhead returned to moaning in both pain and pleasure as the blonde male quickly lowered his lips back to her nipples. Then she warned in a raspy voice, “I’m going to…climax again! Please don’t…drop me…when I…come free!”

Hank Pym chuckled softly as he straightened back up and whispered, “I’ll try not to drop your pretty ta tas, Della. Do enjoy your pleasure beams as I pinch your turreted nipples. This has been MOST interesting!” Hank’s grin grew as the redhead’s moan intensified. He watched as she threw her head back and sighed even more loudly in orgasm as her breasts suddenly popped free of her chest and the razor wire snapped straight and level. Surprise filled Hank’s face as he felt his arms get tugged downward as he took the weight of Della’s still jiggling breasts and applause broke out behind him.

Simultaneous with his taking possession of the familiar looking C-cups, Hank heard the booth restraints release the redhead he had spent the past few minutes playing with. He looked up from the severed breasts to see the sorority girl’s watery green eyes staring forlornly at her former chest ornaments. Then she looked into his eyes with a sheepish grin on her face and assured him, “Well that did hurt, but not as badly as I expected, and I got one hell of a cum. Congratulations, Mr. Pym, to both of us. You’re no longer a debreasting booth virgin, and I, while no longer a breasted girl, have one great Senior Seminar thesis to write.”

“That you do, Della,” Hank replied softly while nodding slowly as he stared at the ravaged chest on the other side of the booth wall. “That you do. Thank you for being a good sport and a most interesting booth game partner. Now, why don’t you let that booth attendant behind you take you back into the Game room and put a pair of rather magical bandages on those wounds. They’ll get rid of that pain you’re obviously feeling, which will make me feel much better about all this.” Hank smiled as the redhead grinned and nodded, and then retreated out of the debreasting booth.

Chapter 16. Harvest Time

Janet Van Dyne beamed with pride as she watched her husband turn away from the front of booth 1 and step towards the center of the dance floor. The spunky heroine grinned as she watched Hank signal for her to join him with a nod of his head. She stood, rushed to stand in front of him, and asked, “Something wrong, honey buns? Or did you just want to show off your trophies before depositing them at the kitchen counter?”

“Something like that, darling,” Hank Pym replied while wearing his usual silly grin. “Take off your top, dear wife. I want to see if these are truly the substitute C-cups I thought they were!” The scientist blushed badly as his wife laughed and shook her head negatively, and then he urged, “Come on, Janet, humor me just this once. It’s not likely that I’ll get a chance to do this again.”

“Well your request is a bit on the gross side, frankly, husband,” Janet pointed out with a wry grin on her face. “However, if you can do what you want to do without getting blood on me or my bikini….”

“I can…I promise, darling!” Hank spat excitedly with an ear to ear grin, and then watched as his wife relented, and untied her bikini top and held it out away from her body. “My goodness, these are pretty close to exact matches for your breasts, Janet!” the scientist exclaimed with obvious amazement as he held the two severed breasts with still-turreted nipples pointed towards him in the palms of his hands on either side of his wife’s chest. “If anything, I would say your breasts look to be in better shape, even though you’re older than Della.”

“I’M a FEW years older than that college TART, Henry Pym,” Janet scolded angrily while nervously watching the meat in her husband’s hands, “but my breasts….” The spunky heroine left unsaid the fact that her breasts had been regenerated six days earlier, before suggesting, “Now why don’t you get that bacon to the kitchen before young Della comes out of the Game room and sees the joke you’re making of her former assets! Let’s skip the food order, this round, Hank. We don’t need everyone getting fat on hard-to-come-by food resources!”

“Yes, darling,” Hank replied softly as he grinned evilly at his wife, “we need to make sure we’re not too stuffed to sample tablemates if we get the chance. I’ll join you back at our table in a jiff.” He laughed as his wife grinned wickedly back at him before hurrying away, and then he headed for the food-ordering counter.

“Good!” Dinah spat with satisfaction as she stared out at the Balance Beam Joust game area. “Those two black sorority sisters are finally belting up. Diana’s breasts are already reddened as she stands on the beam waiting.”

“Something tells me that Amazon will make those girls pay for making her wait for her exercise,” Oliver observed dryly as he followed his girlfriend’s gaze. “Unless, of course, eight Lactic Blasters in less than an hour are enough to get her tipsy.”

“Are you kidding, Ollie?” Zatanna asked with a hearty chuckle. “Diana has the constitution of a horse. I’ve seen her drink Clark under the table, and he claims alcohol doesn’t work on Kryptonians! What do you think, Wanda?”

“I think Barbara and I are going to take the short walk to the Game room door, Zatanna,” Wanda replied softly with a strange look on her face. “Are you ready to fulfill your promise, Miss Wright?” the big-breasted Avenger asked as she stared into the eyes of the young adult.

“Yes, Miss Maximoff,” Barbara replied in a steady voice, “I’m ready to do as I promised, and fill that empty booth if that’s what you tell me to do.” The brown-eyed blonde quickly stood and headed for the door that might end her chance of marriage to Bill Jennings. Wanda Maximoff looked more than a little surprised as she hurried after the 18-year-old.

“Well, this certainly hasn’t been Wanda’s finest hour, has it Janet?” Sue Richard’s asked thoughtfully as she watched Janet retake her seat after retying her bikini top.

“No, my teammate doesn’t seem to be herself right now, Sue,” Janet replied while locking eyes with Bill Jennings at the adjacent table. “However, I’ll bet my breasts, despite the bend-over bar scenario if I lose, against the price of a fresh fillet that she ends up doing the right thing by that girl in the end. Any takers? Bill?” Janet laughed as the nightclub owner shook his head negatively.

“Hold your horses, Barbara,” Wanda called out from behind the young woman as the blonde reached for the Game room doorknob. “You don’t get to put your agreement behind you quite so quickly!”

“You want me to fill booth 1, don’t you, Miss Wanda?” Barbara asked with confusion on her face as she turned to watch the auburn-haired beauty step beside her. “I was thinking that the sooner I started playing the game, the better, what with the other four booths being filled with college girls who left their debreasting options available for the kitchen-side players to set.”

“Maybe, Barbara, I’ll have you fill that booth, and just maybe your plan would have worked,” Wanda replied chidingly. “Then again, maybe not!” Wanda nodded to several girls watching them from the edge of the dance floor. “This is something of a social game, young lady. Why don’t we be sociable and let those hungry looking ladies get a good view of what’s going to be on the menu if I have you take that booth? Take your top off, Barbara!”

“Yes, Miss Wanda,” the young blonde replied nervously as she noted the hungry stares her D-cups were already earning her. As she followed her instructions and removed her pink sports bra, she blushed and asked, “Wanda…they were scoping me out the whole time…weren’t they? My D-cups would have been poached the moment I finished setting my debreasting options, wouldn’t they?”

“Yes, Barbara, they were scoping us out from the moment we headed for the Game room door,” Wanda Maximoff admitted softly as she removed her bikini top. “Look at how those bacon hunters are licking their lips now. Whichever set of nice D-cups gets pushed through those debreasting portals will quickly find themselves converted to sandwich meat. The question is, are you going to fill booth 1 and donate your young fair-skinned breasts to the worldwide food chain after a, hopefully, exciting game with one of those girls, or are you going to stand here and wait for me…or someone else…to fill that booth and then beat those hungry looking girls to the debreast button.”

“I agreed to do whichever you tell me to do, Miss Wanda,” Barbara replied matter-of-factly with a frown on her face. “I agreed to put my fate in your hands if you spared Francheska’s B-cups. You did…so here we are.”

“Yes, young lady, you did and then I did, and here we are,” Wanda said while nodding with a sheepish smile on her face. “You are a brave and loyal girl, I’ll give you that, but despite being pretty smart for your age, you seem to be a bit gullible. Francheska didn’t need you to rescue her breasts. She would have got her debreast button pushed only if she wanted it pushed…which IS something she WILL talk someone into doing for her some other night not too far in the future. Francheska is the only girl at your table that should have taken up Bill’s challenge to play his debreasting booth game. Your turn would have been next, Barbara! Would you have filled a booth?”

“No, Miss Wanda,” Barbara replied with a quiver in her voice, looking more than a bit uncomfortable for the first time since leaving her table, “something Francheska said just before she entered the Game room made me realize that I could play the booth game from either side of the debreasting portals. I would have earned my fillet by harvesting some other girl’s breast bacon. It WAS silly of me to worry about Francheska’s breasts…wasn’t it…in view of her penchant for playing the debreasting booth game, I mean?”

“Yes…a bit, Barbara,” Wanda admitted softly with sorrow in her gold-flecked blue eyes, “but…as I said before…brave and loyal too. If things were to go well for you tomorrow night…and you became the new Mrs. Jennings…you’d probably never get the chance to fill one of those debreasting booths…at least not when Final Fantasy is open. How does it make you feel…to know you might soon get your one and only chance to play the debreasting booth game from the dangerous side of the debreasting portals…while knowing they are waiting for you to do just that?” Wanda nodded to the handful of women staring at the two sets of uncovered D-cups.

“Terrified, Miss Wanda,” the young blonde answered with a cracking voice, “and remorseful. Losing my breasts tonight will cost me that marriage…that Bill will give me…if I survive the death games. I hadn’t thought about what being Bill’s wife would mean with respect to this establishment’s principal pastime. I guess the nightclub owner’s wife shouldn’t be harvesting breasts from the kitchen side of The Wall either, should she? That’s what you meant when you asked your friends if they wanted to let their breasts give me my first and only balloon popping experience, wasn’t it Wanda?”

“I suppose it could have been, Barbara,” Wanda Maximoff replied with intentional vagueness. “However, now we’re back to three choices. Do I send you into the Game room to fill that booth…possibly saving your life as your chest gets flattened…by preventing you from playing death games tomorrow night? Do I have you go over and stand before booth 1 as I enter the Game room…making a mockery of my claim I will play the booth game with the intent to remain breasted after doing so? Or do we let her fill it, and let you do as you had already planned?”

Barbara grinned as she followed Wanda’s stare out into the tables, and whispered, “I vote choice number three…if I get a vote, Miss Wanda.” Then the teen called out to the approaching newcomer, a lovely long-haired blonde in her early twenties with hazel eyes and perfect C-cups, “Hello Miss Hartnell. Thanks for letting me take the home economics final early. Sorry I only got a C on it, but at least it allowed me to graduate early!”

“Yes, Barbara I was sorry as well,” the sultry high school teacher dressed in a black bikini replied a bit more sternly than she needed to. “You’ve a good head on your shoulders, and should have earned an A. However, you have graduated, so why don’t you start calling me Rachel. Do I recognize your friend here? You’re one of the cows from the Final Fantasy Dairy, are you not, Miss?”

Wanda grinned back at Rachel Hartnell, whose smoking-hot good looks were accentuated by her confident pose, and acknowledged, “Yes, I was one of the volunteer cows on the front row Wednesday, Miss Hartnell. My name is Wanda. I’m strictly an amateur who was earning some credits from Mr. Jennings. I remember you as well. For a while, I thought your guest lecturer was coveting your fillet enough to make you demonstrate involuntary full conversion to Barbara’s class!”

The blonde bombshell laughed gleefully as she admitted, “You know, I had that same impression. Oh well! Hopefully, I’ll get a chance to show off my air dancing moves some other time. Hmmm…it looks like great minds think alike. You two probably realized those four coeds are going to provide enough of a distraction for a girl to cop a quick pleasure beam treatment without much risk. I’m here to take a booth too!”

“Yeah,” Barbara replied carefully as she nodded, “I was just about to enter the Game room door when Wanda and I started having a conversation about my possibly getting married, and what that might mean in settings such as this. There’s only one open booth at the moment, Wanda. If we’re done talking, why don’t you grab it? On the other hand, if you had more pointers to give me, we could let Miss…I mean, Rachel here…slip in ahead of us. What do you say?”

“Go for it if you want, Rachel,” Wanda Maximoff replied with a knowing smile. “Just keep in mind that anything can happen if you take one of those booths, no matter how well you’ve worked out your game plan. However, if you don’t take the booth, I’ll insist that Barbara does, and we’ll finish our conversation at our table later.”

“Well, if you girls really don’t mind, I will slip in ahead of you,” Rachel giggled from behind her fashion model’s smile. “I could really use that quick climax just now. Some of the other teachers are going to be arriving soon. Partying with coworkers…now that’s more work than work. A nice booth stint might just get me through it…until we all get loosened up and some of those girls start doing booth stints. Thanks!” The foxy teacher failed to notice the broadening grin on Barbara’s face as she pulled open the door and stepped inside.

Wanda smiled at the young would-be bride as the door closed behind the stripping blonde bombshell, and observed, “I do believe she’ll get that fillet of hers snapped up by the man you hope to marry, Barbara, the next time she leads that field trip to the dairy. Bill did admit to me and my friends that he usually selects breastless girls to demonstrate involuntary full conversions. Are you prepared to seal her fate…without coaching from me?”

“You bet I am, Miss Wanda,” Barbara Wright chortled joyously. “Miss Hartnell is one stuck up bitch, and it’s every high school student’s dream to one day bring one of their pain-in-the-ass teachers down a peg or two! Besides, I’m pretty sure I aced that home economics final. I WAS paying attention to Bill’s lectures at the dairy!”

“Then you better step in front of booth 1, Barbara,” Wanda replied softly, that knowing look again on her face. “Do try to have a game that is fun for both players. I’m sure that Rachel isn’t aware of being seen as stuck up. That kind of attitude can creep into the personalities of drop-dead gorgeous girls like the three of us without our being aware of its happening.” Wanda laughed at the shock on the young blonde’s face, turned and headed back towards her table, and then laughed again at the disappointment on the bacon hunters’ faces as they watched two sets of perfect D-cups get recovered with cloth.

“Wanda Maximoff, you never cease to amaze me!” Janet Van Dyne chortled as her big-breasted teammate retook her seat. “If I didn’t know better, I would have thought you and Barbara were the best of chums as you stood out there and talked. How did you and your rival talk Miss Hotness into filling booth 1?”

“Barbara isn’t my rival, Janet,” Wanda replied as she shrugged her shoulders, “with respect to anyone or anything. She’s actually both brave and intelligent despite her youth. She has some talent for manipulation as well, and convinced Miss Hartnell to take the open booth ahead of us. You can be sure I warned that blonde teacher of the possible consequences of playing the debreasting booth game…but I admit I did not disclose her ultimate fate.”

“I’m sure you did warn her, Wanda,” Sue interjected softly. “We each make our own choices in life, and then we have to deal with the consequences. It’s not your job to warn us when we’re messing up! I’m proud of you for giving Barbara a chance to prove herself to you.”

“Thank you, Sue,” Wanda replied with a blush. Then she sought to change the subject by asking, “What have I missed…while I was over there?”

“Diana is jousting again and has already sent one girl…oops…make that both of those youngish looking black girls…into breast suspension,” Dinah chortled as she watched the action across the room. “The first girl’s C-cups are pretty much ruined, and the second girl’s B-cups likely won’t be tits for long!”

“Yeah, warrior girl made pretty quick work of them,” Oliver agreed softly and then shrugged. “Either Diana WAS angry at them for making her perch on the balance beam so long, or they’re not the skilled athletes the first six Bacon Poachers appeared to be.”

“I bet it’s the latter, Ollie,” Zatanna spat and then chuckled. “I think the girls this round will be cannon fodder. I bet the sorority that took up Diana’s challenge is trying to get her drunk before letting their best athletes risk their breasts against hers.”

“A good plan on their part,” Hank observed with an excited grin on his face, “which makes for fine viewing pleasure for…OH! There goes the C-cups…nicely plopped! The girl with the B-cups looks pretty terrified as she hangs by her tits and waits for her razor wire nooses’ coverings to evaporate! God I love this place!”

“There is no hiding that, is there, honey buns,” Janet chided with an ear-to-ear grin on her face. “Let’s see…what else is new? Oh yeah! All four of the remaining sorority sisters have had debreasting options set on them, three of them by girls that seem to know each other. It’s going to be a mammary massacre…and perhaps more! None of them have had their debreast buttons slapped yet though, but it looks like the girl standing in front of that Navajo girl’s drooping B-cups is about to!”

“Well thanks for the catch up, all?” Wanda chortled happily. “Do try to put up with Janet’s chair bouncing during what may be a rather protracted harvest time. I wonder if Miss Hartnell knows she’s part of the harvest yet? If not, she’s going to find out soon! Barbara just stepped in front of her booth window?”

“Hi again, Rachel,” Barbara said sweetly as she stepped in front of booth 1’s opaque window. “I hope you don’t mind, but I decided to play the booth game from out here instead of in there. Then I had an epiphany and said to myself, why not do that playing with someone I know. What do you say, Miss Hartnell?”

“There’s not much I CAN say, is there, Barbara?” Rachel Hartnell spat with obvious disappointment in her voice. “Once a girl has her moneymakers hanging out of one of these booth’s debreasting portals, she’s pretty much left herself at the whimsy of whichever kitchen-side player is fondling her breasts. While this is the third time I’ve been in one of these booths, this is my first time with a former student standing before me. Having been a former student myself, and knowing what I would have liked to do, had I the chance, with some of my teachers in this situation…. Well I’m pretty certain I’m not going to flirt my way out of this booth like I did the first two times. Why don’t you start fondling your food, and tell me how you managed to fool me into thinking you were a potential donator looking for an orgasmatron emitter rather than the bacon hunter you are?”

“Oh, I’m not what you think I am at all, Rachel,” Barbara replied softly, her words ringing with truthfulness. “When I walked to the Game room door, I fully expected to take that booth. Fortunately, that girl I had bartered with had a change of heart, and offered me the choice of donating my breasts or accepting the donations from whoever entered the booth instead of me. That you were that girl is a random chance, Rachel. I promise! Still, it’s more than a little cool to be getting to poach the perfect breasts off one of my prettiest teachers. Maybe you’ll have fun in there too! At least you’ll have an interesting story to tell about the day you donated your bacon.”

“Well yes, there is that,” Rachel admitted softly. “I suppose I never believed I would still be carrying breasts when I reached 30…if The Lottery doesn’t get me before that. Most every girl ends up getting herself debreasted sooner or later these days. I guess it’s going to be sooner rather than later. However, I was hoping the girl playing the game with me when that happened knew how to properly treat a set of doomed C-cups!”

“Consider me properly chastised, Miss Hartnell!” Barbara chortled, happy that her booth game partner was now in the proper mood. “I’ll bet I can get the pinkish tips on these nice C-cups turreted in no time at all.” Barbara smiled into the opaque one-way window as she lifted the teacher’s breasts, one in the palm of each hand, and then bent forward to suckle the left hardening nipple.

“Slapped!” Janet spat excitedly. “That brunette just slapped the Amerindian girl’s debreast button. I wonder how she’s going to get her puppies poached?”

“Should we just ignore our winsome friend, guys?” Sue asked while giggling happily. “Or should we just tell her for the umpteenth time…you’ll see momentarily, Janet?”

“You’ll see momentarily, Janet,” Zatanna chuckled softly.

“Very funny, girls!” Janet spat facetiously as she grinned wickedly.

“Gee, there sure is a lot to watch,” Dinah whined softly. “Not only is that girl in booth 2 about to get her tits busted, but a scrawny brunette and an even scrawnier blonde are mounting the balance beam and getting their B-cups ready for Diana’s demolition derby while the two black girls get their chests bandaged.”

“Yeah, well you keep an eye on Diana, sweetheart, and sing out if she gets in trouble,” Oliver Queen replied with a satisfied look on his face. “I’m sure Janet’s squealing will let you know when something interesting is happening at the debreasting booths.”

“Come on, Ollie,” Hank replied with a laugh, “admit it! All of this is pretty damn interesting! OH! That’s some interesting equipment being deployed around the debreasting portals at booth 2!” Hank nodded to eight symmetrically spaced needles being slowly pushed from housings around the rims of the Navajo girl’s debreasting portals into the tops, bottoms, and sides of her breasts until their tips had penetrated deep into her breast meat and were near the very cores of her B-cups.

“Coolies, Hank!” Janet squealed with joy. “This is the Hot dogger debreasting option that Wanda suggested to Bill. Those thin needles that have been inserted into the bases of her breasts are designed to complete an electrical circuit! They’ll receive the electrical current that will be generated at her nipples.”

“Yes, darling, I can see the machinery unfolding out of this side of the booth’s front wall,” Hank chortled excitedly. “What are those vertical pinchers at the end of robotic arms that are positioning open jaws on either side of her nipples for?”

Janet laughed and gave her husband a knowing smile as she announced, “They’re going to be used to position her breast tips in front of needles that are about to be inserted chest-ward into her puppies, Hank. Those pinchers aren’t particularly gentle with the doomed flesh either!”

Hank nodded slack-jawed as he watched the mechanical arms attached to the pinchers now squeezing into the sides of the Amerindian’s nipples start tugging on the B-cups. Then he saw the two-inch-long, thin, metal needles with electrical wires at their rear ends being positioned by two more mechanical arms. “Holy SHIT!” Hank spat as he heard the girl scream in pain as the needles were pushed into the center of her engorged nipples until the ends of the wires nearly reached the ends of her erect turrets. “That’s got to hurt!”

“You bet it does,” Janet acknowledged as she remembered her last booth stint fondly. “The wires attached to the horizontal needles, along with another set of wires leading to the pinchers clamping her nipples, are the electricity generators, Hank. The low amperage electrical current running through her breasts, from nipples to bases….”

“Will slowly cook her tender ta tas on her chest from the inside out,” Hank interjected while chuckling jovially. “I’m the scientist here remember! Because flesh doesn’t conduct electricity very efficiently, there will be resistance to the current as it passes through her breast tissue. That resistance generates heat and causes tissue damage as the current passes from her nipples and through her breast meat to the needles in the bases of her moneymakers. Based on what I’ve seen from overcooked hot dogs, this could get interesting…and messy. I’m going to watch from the dance floor!”

“Be tactful and don’t bring attention to yourself, Hank,” Wanda urged softly as the scientist stood. “But do enjoy yourself!”

“So, Rachel,” Barbara began nervously as she looked up from the moaning teacher’s aroused breasts and into the one-way window, “by what method are we going to convert your lovely C-cups into breast bacon as you make your donation to the worldwide food chain? Don’t tell me! I’ll read your computer screen.”

“Yeah, you do that, Barbara,” Rachel Hartnell chortled gleefully as she enjoyed the excitement in her former student’s brown eyes. “Once we get the traditional debreasting booth options reading out of the way, it’s just a matter of pampering my soon-to-be-donated boobies until there is a break in action from the booths around us. With any luck, that break won’t come for another couple of minutes as these sorority girls back here get themselves debreasted before their timers run down.”

“Or even nullified, Rachel,” Barbara replied with obvious excitement in her voice as she glanced around her while she used her hands to tug on turreted nipples. “The telltale twin viewing screens just got positioned in the corner of booth 2’s window. I’ll have to concentrate on not being distracted as I pamper your pretty breasts while the other booths are being emptied. Then we will get our chance to see…or feel…your C-cups get sliced off your chest by a circular saw on medium speed. I see you’ve wisely chosen to avoid your own nullification, and to leave these turgid nipples on your breast tips to facilitate my pampering.” The brown-eyed blonde grinned and lowered her lips to Rachel’s right nipple—she was rewarded by a loud gasp of pleasure.

“Well, that didn’t take long!” Dinah quipped as she grinned out at the Balance Beam Joust game. “Diana hooked the blonde’s right ankle cuff with her jousting pole with startling ease and sent her tumbling off the narrow beam to hang by her tits over the combat zone.”

“Yeah, if it stays this easy, Diana might get frustrated and quit playing for a while, once this bout’s timer has run out,” Oliver replied thoughtfully as he glanced from the girl in breast suspension, to booth 2’s debreasting portals, and back to the Balance Beam Joust game. “Look, Diana has hooked a ring on the brunette’s waist belt! If that girl doesn’t…she didn’t. Now two more sorority girls are waiting to be sent to the floor in three pieces. This is a slaughter!”

Hank Pym grinned from his position just behind booth 2’s kitchen-side player. He could now look past the small-breasted girl and see what was happening to the Indian girl’s breasts. He could also hear their conversation.

“Ah Oh!” Shadi, the plumpish doe-eyed girl with long raven hair, exclaimed as she glanced repeatedly from the small viewing screen in the corner of her two-way booth window, which held the image taken by a camera focused on her vulva, to her breasts, trapped on the wrong side of debreasting portals, and back to her screen again. “I think the strange tickling sensation I’m feeling in my breasts means the electrical currents have been turned on. It probably also means force-field rings will soon go to work on my clitty. This really blows, paleface!”

“It’s not MY fault that YOU left your debreasting options available for a kitchen-side player to set, Shadi!” the slim brunette spat back gloatingly. “There’s no way I’m going to pass on the chance to declit someone. At least I gave you a medium speed. You won’t have to smell yourself cooking for too long!”

“Yeah, well thanks for that,” the Navajo girl admitted softly. “Seeing as this debreasting method’s equipment makes breast pleasuring impossible…I won’t mind getting my donations taken fairly quickly…so long as I get a nice orgasmatron beam intensity setti…OH! The pleasure beams…they feel so wonderful on my sex. OWE! Crap my sexual center just took its first tug. Gaahhh! Now my breasts are getting a buzzing and tingling sensation.”

Hank grinned as he glanced from the Ameridian girl’s breasts up to the viewing screen just as she gasped in discomfort. The scientist couldn’t believe it…he actually saw the pleasure button pulse as it was tugged a little further out of its protective cavity. Then he turned his attention back to the girl’s breasts. He knew her breast tissue was already suffering damage due to its resistance to the flow of the low amperage electrical current running through her moneymakers. He also knew that, as that amperage was slowly increased, things were going to get interesting.

“Well her speed setting isn’t set on slow,” Zatanna observed with a chuckle. “Even from here, you can see her sex life worming into open air!”

“Yes, there is no chance that poor girl is going to keep herself from being sexually neutered,” Sue replied softly with a frown on her face and then crossed her legs. “That’s a strange and terrible sensation…getting your sexual center stretched out of your body to await decapitation by laser slicer!”

“Yeah…it is, isn’t it, Sue?” Janet replied softly with a knowing look. “HEY! Do you know what would be cool…not that I’m ever going to risk a ‘de-clit option yes’ setting ever again? With this debreasting option, once the girl’s clitoris is fully stretched, it should get speared by a needle just above her hood, and then an electrical current should be applied to the tip of her glans. That way she can get herself cooked alive at both ends!”

“Jeese, Janet,” Wanda spat acerbically, “you’re a sick little pain slut, aren’t you? Force-field rings and declitting tubes fitted with lasers, and vacuum extractors combined with pry bars and surgical scissors will destroy enough 41^st Century femininity. There’s no need to add electrocution into the mix!”

“Oh, I don’t know, Wanda,” Oliver Queen interjected dryly, “from what I’ve seen, there’s nothing wrong with a good declitting, regardless of the method used to accomplish it. Weren’t you yourself espousing the merits of making people more complacent and manageable by removing their randiness?” The emerald archer chuckled heartily as the big-breasted Avenger blushed badly with an embarrassed frown on her face, and then turned to his girlfriend and quipped, “What do you think, Dinah? Would a good declitting do wonders for your randiness?”

“I value my randiness, stud-o-mine, so, in my case at least, there’s no such thing as a good declitting,” Dinah chortled happily. “Don’t you be foolish enough to get your hopes up! That would be as stupid as those girls were when they challenged Diana.” Dinah nodded to the Balance Beam Jousting game’s combat area and observed, “Now they’re just scrawny breastless girls getting bandaged, and busted tits on the nightclub floor. Interestingly, no one’s getting ready to take the Bacon Poacher boxes with almost three minutes left on our Amazon friend’s timer!”

Hank Pym glanced briefly over to Barbara as she suckled on and rubbed the undersides of perfect C-cups protruding from booth 1’s debreasting portals. He noted the moans of pleasure coming from behind the booth 1’s opaque window, and briefly wondered whether young D-cups might not have been more fun to play with than Della’s Janet-like C-cups. Then he shrugged his shoulders and paid attention to the Amerindian girl’s words.

“Owieeeeees!” Shadi moaned softly. “My breasts feel like they’ve had a white hot knife thrust through them, from my nipples to my ribs! I think I’m beginning to cook now. My clitty feels like it’s stretched to its limits and is about to tear too….OH! The tugging on my sex just stopped, and I’m feeling really strange down there. AHHHH! OH YEAH! I’m getting another cum too. ICE HOT!”

Hank grinned stupidly as he watched the clitoris in the view screen begin to shrink back towards Shadi’s vulva, most of the force-field rings having released their grips on her clitoral shaft and glans, while the base of the exposed organ was held in place by the final invisible force-field ring. Then he heard the sizzling sound accompanying the smell of slow-fried breast bacon. His grin widened as he watched and listened with intense amazement.

“Jeese!” Wanda spat grumpily, “I really hate it when the smell of live-cooked breasts permeates the room. I wish I had never suggested the Hot dogger!”

“I agree, Wanda,” Zatanna chuckled heartily, “about that smell. At least the smell of electro-cooked breasts isn’t as bad as the broiler.”

“There’s a certain elegance to hot breast fat bubbling on your chest, girls,” Janet quipped with an evil grin on her face. “However, even I hope we don’t see the broiler tonight!”

Sue watched Oliver pick up the debreasting options menu and stare at it for a few seconds, and then discard it with a frown on his face. “Pretty weird isn’t it, Oliver, the thought that some girls would choose to do that to themselves. I guess, even in the 41^st Century, it takes all kinds of people to make a society.”

“Yes, it’s pretty weird, Sue,” Oliver Queen acknowledged softly. “And not just the broiler, either. This whole evening has been pretty weird, what with guillotines and gelding tools back home, and then some of us harming soft flesh that I’m sure all of us treasure for its sexiness here. Then there is the awkwardly delicious food. I AM enjoying myself, Sue, but I do wonder how much…weirder…things are going to get before the night is done.”

“If you ARE enjoying yourself, Ollie,” Dinah interjected with a happy giggle, “then don’t think about what we’re doing now compared to what we would have thought enjoyable yesterday. Just go with the flow! What’s the worst that could happen? I’ll tell you what…not seeing Diana’s huge melons splat on the floor. Look! Two new, more fit looking, challengers are standing just outside the Bacon Poacher boxes. It looks like they’re going to wait until the last minute to get belted up. Diana’s tits are going to be pretty purple when she returns to our table at the end of this jousting session…unless she returns without them!”

Hank Pym glanced from the Amerindian’s B-cups hanging out of booth 2’s debreasting portals, the source of the faint sizzling sound he was hearing under the girl’s moans of discomfort mixed with gasps of pleasure, to the fair-skinned C-cups Barbara was continuing to pleasure with hands and mouth despite the distractions to her right, to the tiny clitoris in the viewing screen now retaining its normal shape but trapped out of its cavity into open air. The scientist marveled that such a tiny organ—the penisoid flesh was less than a half inch long—could bring so much pleasure to a woman. This clitoris would soon cease to bring its owner pleasure, however, a fact that the slim brunette on the outside of the booth seemed to enjoy reminding the Navajo girl inside the booth of.

“Look at your viewing screen, Shadi,” the small-breasted brunette urged gloatingly, “the laser slicer that’s going to give your girl penis the chop has just been positioned near the exposed base of its shaft. Naturally, that won’t happen until your breasts are fully cooked. How do your boobies feel, by the way?”

“My breasts feel wonderful, paleface!” Shadi spat facetiously as she threw her head back to get her raven tresses off of her shoulders. “My breasts feel as if they have fires within their cores…fires which are piercing and throbbing outward towards my bosom’s surface. Thank you for this most memorable agony, paleface….and the intense….pleasure…Oooohhhh! AAaaahhH! UhhhhhHHUUUHHhh! I must be…nearly done! I’m sure…that climax…was wrenched…from my loins…by full intensity…pleasure beams!”

“Well, you smell pretty done, Shadie,” the slender brunette observed with a chuckle. “I’m glad you’re getting the full orgasmatron intensity to reward you for that memorable agony. You’re starting to brown nicely out here, and you’re sweating what I’m assuming to be molten fat. Your breast bacon is going to be pretty hot…I wonder how I’m supposed to get your bacon to the kitchen? OH!” the brunette exclaimed with surprise as the shallow metal tray rotated outward and upward under the sizzling hot breasts from the front of the booth wall.

“Maybe what we’ve been calling a ‘paste’ tray is actually an all purpose meat tray,” Sue observed softly as she admired the Amerindian girl’s courage and decorum under most challenging circumstances. “Hopefully, the food-transporting platform’s deployment means that poor girl’s agony is nearing an end.”

“Don’t worry, Sue” Janet urged softly, “physically the worst of it is behind that girl. The pain has actually been fading from her breasts the last few seconds, because the heat and electricity has likely destroyed her puppies’ nerve networks. The meat tray is new, and its being there at the ready will lighten Bill’s waitresses’ workloads. Our friend runs a very fluid, progressive, and innovative business!”

“OH GOD!” Shadi moaned with an unusual subtext of both pleasure and pain. “I can’t stop CUMMING! This is SO fantastic….EWWWW! My breasts are gross! That’s a visual memomory I could do without!”

Hank Pym scratched the bottom of his chin with his right forefinger as he saw what the Navajo girl was groaning about. The skin of her golden brown orbs had broken in several places each, and molten fat was oozing out of the gaps. Hot doggers were cheap and efficient instruments to cook tubular food with, but, and evidently this was the case with breasts as well, it was easy to overcook the food with less than aesthetically pleasing results.

“Well you won’t have to look at those used-to-be breasts for long, Shadi,” the small breasted brunette chortled, “and that fantastic never ending climax you’re experiencing is about to come to an abrupt and permanent end as well. The needles are being slowly withdrawn from the bases and tips of your breasts…your done cooking…and perhaps more troubling to you now, is the fact that a vertical section of the front wall inside your booth has just slowly folded out between your legs to form an inclined ramp that leads to a small square hole that just formed in the lower part of the booth wall to allow your sex life to slide into the tray that just appeared on my side of the booth wall.”

As the needles exited the Navajo girl’s fully cooked B-cups, Hank heard the double swishing sound he knew from reading the debreasting menu must be twin rotating knives that had been pushed out of the inner front booth wall against the girl’s chest. He caught the glint of steel on the lower left corners of the debreasting portals, watched as the girl’s steaming breasts deformed slightly as the knifes made their clockwise rotation, and then drug his eyes to the viewing screen as the knives finished their work and the bubbling bacon dropped downward onto the meat tray. It was then that the brave Indian girl finally cried out in remorse, as the laser slicer severed her clitoral shaft and, accompanied by an audible snap as the shaft below the lower force-field ring snapped back into its natural shape deep within its cavity, her severed girl penis dropped downward on the view screen and then slid outward into a small tray.

“That was fun, Shadi,” the slim brunette gloated as she knelt to pick up the severed clitoris while scattered applause came from the room behind her, “for me at least.” The brunette deposited the Amerindian girl’s severed sex life on the metal tray, which she then detached and held before her victim’s doe-like-eyes, and chided, “I hope you enjoyed your final climax…final climax ever.”

“Oh but I did, paleface,” Shadi replied softly with a smile on her face, over the moans of pleasure now coming from booths 3 through 5 as her sorority sisters entered the final minute of their booth stints. “Thank you for a most memorable debreasting, and please do enjoy my donated meat!

Hank Pym grinned and shook his head in disbelief as he watched the chubby girl get escorted out of the booth for bandaging, and booth attendants went to work cleaning molten fat from inside and outside of booth 2. As the scientist watched the thin brunette carry the tray past him on her way to the food-ordering counter, and he smelled the aroma exuding from the tray, he wondered if he shouldn’t have sampled sandwiches made from Della’s C-cups after all. He shrugged his shoulders and headed for his seat.

“Have fun, partner?” Oliver Queen asked softly with a sly look on his face.

“Yes, that was a very interesting application of biophysics,” Hank Pym admitted gleefully. ‘It would be most interesting to determine if the rate of meat cooking is more related to overall breast mass rather than the distance between sets of electrodes. Surely it must be the former. Perhaps if I could observe the process again, with the debreasting speed set on dead slow rather than medium, I could do the math and come up with a governing equation.”

“I’m sure you could, Hank,” Oliver replied dryly with strangely staring green eyes, “you’re a fantastic academician. How about the declitting, now that you’ve seen it done to a girl from pretty close up? Fitting?”

“Ah, yes, my dear Oliver,” Hank replied with the light-bulb-going-off-in-his-mind look on his face, “I found that very interesting as well. It is certainly the more disheartening of the two principal non-lethal punishments being issued at this establishment. However, under certain circumstances I might like to see more declittings. Given who we are, where we’re from, and everything we’ve gone through, I would say the circumstances are ripe.”

“We’re here for the debreasting booth game, boys,” Wanda interjected with obvious distaste at what she was hearing, “and that means balloon popping. To be honest, I do not understand how the extirpation of sexual centers ever got included in this most ingenious pastime. Breasts, in the modern world of readymade baby formula are unneeded appendages and might as well be used for food. The girl that donates them should hardly miss them afterwards. The loss of one’s clitoris, however, is indeed heartbreaking!”

“Any idea of how much time is left on those other sorority sisters’ timers?” Janet Van Dyne asked with urgency, trying to change the subject. “It can’t be much!”

“There were fifty seconds left when I returned to this table, Janet,” Hank replied softly. “We’ve been talking for much of that, while those three girls seem to have been in one more-or-less continues climax. I guess the other three sorority sisters are going to be set free.”

“Unlikely,” Zatanna chuckled loudly, “for if they do, the three girls that set their debreasting options and then didn’t follow through with slapping their debreast buttons will be forced onto the backs of Jessica machines! You boys would be getting an early preview of the principal lethal punishment employed by this establishment!”

“I think Zatanna’s right!” Dinah squealed excitedly. “The sorority sisters are not going free. The bacon hunters have taken positions in front of booths 3 through 5 with their hands over debreast buttons! Look, the blonde in front of the C-cups hanging out of booth 4 is counting down. Coolies!”

“Oh no!” Sue spat in disappointment with a frown on her face. “Those remaining sorority sisters from Della’s table did get their buttons slapped simultaneously. Now they’re going to be forced to share each other’s debreasting experience. Poor girls!”

“Oh, I don’t know, Sue,” Wanda replied softly with a knowing look on her face as she stared at the Fantastic Four’s matriarch, “it might build camaraderie. I have a friend that thinks it would be pretty hot to hear the ploppity, plop, plop, plop, ploppity, plop, plop plop of tumbling breasts landing on a dairy floor at the end of standing under simultaneously swinging pendulum blades with three of her best friends. Last I checked…?”

“Point taken, Wanda Maximoff,” Sue Richards replied apologetically while blushing badly, “and your friend hasn’t changed her mind, as confusing as that might seem to both you and her. I hope your right about the camaraderie building, for both our sakes and theirs! They are all getting the slicer!”

Janet Van Dyne giggled loudly as she watched three wide, flat, metal trays, each with thin, eight-inch disks attached to horizontal positioning tracks at the far ends, pop out of the outer walls of booths 3 through 5 and rise to pillow the variously sized breasts hanging out of the debreasting portals on their surfaces. Each tray’s horizontal positioning track was attached to a vertical bracket on its right side, which in turn was attached by a horizontal bracket under the tray. These lower horizontal brackets were attached to positioning tracks under each tray that ran from the kitchen ends to the booth ends of the metal surfaces. Then the three disks simultaneously began spinning, and started being dragged laterally from one side of the trays to the other in the horizontal positioning tracks as the spinning disks were slowly moved towards the tips of the pillowed breasts along the positioning tracks under the trays.

“Sweet!” Janet exclaimed as she bounced on her chair. “This is a ‘Let Janet relive her booth stints’ debreasting booth game. First the Hot dogger, which I got last time, and now the meat slicer, which I got my first time! This debreasting option is frightening enough to make some girls forget about pleasure beams. Listen to those three girls’ gasps and moans…they carry the sounds of fear and regret and only a small subtext of sexual pleasure!”

“You do know, Janet,” Wanda hissed derisively, “that you’re not making sense to anyone within earshot. I know you feel sorry for your sisters, who were the ones who got their bacon poached during those previous booth stints you’re reminiscing about, but stop talking as if it were you that got debreasted. Everyone around you can see the bumps on your chest.”

“Sorry…my bad, Wanda,” Janet replied softly with a blush on her face, not bothering to point out that both Wanda and Sue had displayed trouble with maintaining their cover stories earlier in the evening. “My sisters and I are awfully close, so I kind of personalize it. I’ll try to be more careful with my words, although I doubt anyone is actually paying attention to our table talk.”

“You know,” Hank Pym interjected, speaking to no one in particular as he sought to rescue his wife from her predicament, “although Della’s entire table will end up getting their chests flattened by the end of their sorority bet, they likely believe their table got the better of it. While two from Toni’s table escaped their debreasting booth stints completely intact, two from Toni’s table got themselves declitted. Look, no viewing screens in the corners of those booth windows, so only the Amerindian girl from Della’s table will go home clitless!”

“Thank goodness for that, Hank,” Sue said softly as she nodded. “Most girls from this society will donate their breast bacon at relatively young ages, but they still are able to enjoy healthy sex lives until their number comes up in The Lottery. Only a small percentage of girls end up getting themselves declitted…and as Wanda pointed out earlier, that percentage is much too high.”

“Amen to that!” Zatanna spat with an uncomfortable chuckle. “Women will forever rue the day the declitting tube was invented. Enough talk about that! Has anyone else noticed how fast those meat slicers are moving? Both pain and pleasure are going to be short-lived for those girls! Pay attention, Wanda. You’re also going to see what happens when different-sized breasts are simultaneously imperiled by the same device. Meat slicer or swinging pendulum blade…the biggest breasts at the table feel pain’s sweet embrace first and for the longest!”

Wanda’s gulp was audible, bringing a roar of laughter from her table, before she spat with bravado, “Well at least I won’t get bored waiting for my balloon popping experience to begin…preferable to me so long as we get orgasmatron emitters set at maximum intensity for the duration…even if it turns out to be a long and intermittently painful experience. Those three girls aren’t going to be so lucky. Those circular slicer blades are set on medium fast. Even with fairly high orgasmatron emitter settings, those girls are going to be lucky to get more that a few more climaxes out of their balloon popping experiences now that their worries have begun!”

“Hey, Ollie,” Dinah chortled as the table talk drew her attention from the girls standing outside the Bacon Poachers boxes to the pillowed breasts protruding from booths 3 through 5, “I think it would be pretty cool to get my tits ruined one slice at a time. Maybe I’ll choose the slicer for my debreasting option on my third stint tonight…if I get past the first two stints.”

“Christ, Dinah, now you’re beginning to sound like Janet!” Oliver Queen grumbled gruffly. “Tell you what. Hank told me his team has a guillotine for girl parts…as kind of a balance for the equipment you girls showed us guys earlier. If you make it home intact, I’ll strap you into the debreasting lunettes and flatten your chest then. That way you can stop worrying about booth stints here and enjoy yourself fully when you actually do get your boobs wrecked!”

“Oh lighten up, Ollie,” Janet chided with a grin on her face. “Let Dinah enjoy her night out on the town. As I understand it, this is her one night to enjoy playing the debreasting booth game. Hopefully, all of us girls will win at least one free orgasmatron treatment, but we’ll be lucky if any of us win all three of the games we’ve agreed to play. However, wouldn’t it just blow for you guys if we all did?”

“Don’t even talk that way, Janet!” Hank whined with a frown on his face. “For the price I paid to get here, I want to see tablemates, not strangers, getting their balloons popped. No, I wouldn’t be saying that if I didn’t have the resources to make your pain go away. However, I do, so I can’t wait for you girls to start doing stints with your ta tas offered up as sandwich meat!”

“I can’t wait either, honey buns,” Janet chortled happily. “We girls are going to enjoy ourselves, win or lose. Speaking of enjoying oneself in a most masochistic way…that the slicer blade is getting awfully close to the brownish tips of that Jamaican girl’s double D’s. Another pass or two of the blade to-and-fro across the meat tray and that girl, Kayla, in booth 3 is going to start feeling her puppies getting munched!”

“She knows it too, Janet,” Wanda observed softly. “Listen to her raspy breathing as she stares at the instrument that will start letting the air out of her big balloons with horror-filled brown eyes. Would you really want to be the one causing Dinah that pain if she makes it home intact, Ollie?”

“No…I would not, Wanda,” Oliver Queen admitted softly with a frown on his face, “despite the fact that she…and Zatanna…didn’t mind causing me grief earlier. I hope they both get themselves spanked really good tonight here at Final Fantasy, and WOULD like to be the one doing that spanking if not for your rule number one. However, once we get home, I’ll not allow the destruction of a set of hooters I enjoy playing with so much. The breast guillotine threat was all bark and no bite, but Dinah just might end up wearing a nice strong set of nipple clips at the ends of a short chain tonight after I get her breast tips properly turreted!”

“OHHhhh MYYyyy,” Dinah Lance moaned softly. “Do tell me that’s a promise, Ollie! The thought of you tugging on that chain attached to those clips biting into my tender breast tips is making my nipples grow SOooo HARD!” The blonde Justice Leaguer grinned wickedly as her table broke into laughter.

“This night is becoming SO educational,” Hank Pym chortled as he grinned his silly grin and stared wide-eyed at the circular blade beginning its rightward journey atop the meat tray before booth 3. “Who would have thought you could make a girl’s nipples hard by threatening them with pain or destruction? It’s not just Dinah either, look at how firm the turrets tipping those mammoth ta tas in front of booth 3 are. It’s as if the Jamaican girl is willing her nipples into the meat cutter’s path!” The scientist became slack-jawed as the spinning blade began its leftward journey and the dark-skinned big-breasted girl began sighing in climax as the circular meat slicer passed before her left breast. “Oh…shit!” Hank stammered. “Did she…just orgasm…? Did she…lose her…nipples?”

Zatanna burst into laughter and shook her head as she stared at Hank, and then chuckled, “For a scientist, you sure are a bit dimwitted, Dr. Pym! Yes, she climaxed…most likely as she felt the breeze from the spinning blade on her nipple tips. I doubt she lost any flesh on that pass, though, or there would have been pain coloring those sighs of pleasure. The blade has started back to the right now, though, so….”

“OH SHIT!” Hank interrupted as he watched the end of the girl’s brownish right nipple drop onto the meat tray and heard the girls orgasmic sigh grow shrill with the sound of agony. As he watched the blade take off Kayla’s left nipple tip, and heard the girls in booths 4 and 5’s sighs of climax mix with the Jamaican girl’s scream of agony and loss, he spat, “That’s got to hurt! I can’t decide whether you girls are brave or nuts! What brought the other two girls off? They can’t be feeling the breezes from their blades yet.”

“Those dark-skinned breasts are big enough that the girls in booths 4 and 5 can see the ends of them through their booth windows, Hank,” Janet chortled happily as she bounced on her chair. “They climaxed when they saw those big nipples get truncated, because those girls know that means their own C-cups will soon be getting the same treatment. A treatment that hurts like hell…you know the red-hot poker sensation…at first and doesn’t get much easier as the slice-by-slice conversion of living breasts to sandwich meat continues. As for the brave or nuts, question, it’s probably neither or a little bit of both…you decide, husband. Look, Kayla’s losing most of the rest of her nipples with this pass of the slicer!”

The air in booth 3 reverberated with the sound of the shrill screams, drowning out the anxious groans of despair mixed with moans of climax coming from booths 4 and 5. At first the Jamaican girl let out one long, continuous, high-pitched scream filled with agony, horror, and remorse as she watched first the remainder of her nipples and then her areolas slowly sliced off of the ends of her breasts by the circular meat slicer blade as it move horizontally from one side of the tray to the other, being slowly pushed chest-ward at the end of each pass. Then her screams became short bursts of pain interspersed with gasps of horror as the blade went to work rendering the remainder of her breasts to meat slices.

“Kayla is about to have company in misery,” Wanda announced to no one in particular. Then as the brown-eyed brunette, Cassandra, in booth 4 and the brown-eyed raven-haired, Cho, in booth 5 almost simultaneously began screaming in agony, the auburn-haired Avenger observed, “And evidently the old saying is true…misery loves company. The Jamaican girl caught another climax just as she heard her friends announce the landing of their nipples on meat trays. It does sound like losing your nipples first hurts like hell. Now I can’t believe I suggested Bill add the docking tube option to the debreasting booths!”

“No one would fault you, Wanda,” Sue said softly in her most reassuring tone, “if you changed your mind and did not include that sub-option when you select the method you will risk having your breasts harvested with tonight. Just because you suggested it, doesn’t mean you have to try it! By the way, I’m adding the slicer to the list of debreasting methods I don’t want to try! Listen to the agony coming from those three booths as those poor girls watch their breasts become forward leaning piles of meat slices!”

“Yeah, but think about the camaraderie those girls are building amongst themselves, Sue,” Zatanna gibed while chuckling at the blonde’s blush. “They’re going to be the best of friends by the time their sliced knockers are on their way to the kitchen…which won’t be long now. I bet they get one more climax each before their busts have been totaled. I wonder if there will be any jealousy over the Jamaican girl getting an extra cum?”

“Stop being rude, Zatanna,” Wanda warned softly with an edge in her voice. “I already teased Sue about that. Besides, I’m sure you’ll find a reason not to be part of that lineup of girls under pendulum blades!” Wanda frowned, realizing she had said too much and was herself being mean, and turned her attention back to the debreasting booths. The meat slices were indeed accumulating on all three trays. However, it wasn’t until a handful of seconds later, when metal grinding on metal could be heard as the slicers made their final paths through breast meat and rubbed against the kitchen sides of the booths, that all three of the remaining sorority sisters from Della’s table finally sighed as powerful orgasms washed through their bodies. Finally, razor-sharp blades inside the front booth walls were pushed inward against chests and rotated clockwise through breast bases, allowing the final, thickest slices of breast meat to fall forward onto the trays of forward-leaning sliced bacon while applause filled the nightclub.

The mixture of moans and sighs came to an abrupt end as the three sorority girls were released from their booth restraints, and, as the girls on the kitchen sides of the booths detached the meat trays and headed for the kitchen, clean-up crews went to work on the insides and outsides of booths 3 through 5. Surprisingly, the three sorority girls were wearing smiles as the booth attendant urged them back into the main Game room so she could get them bandaged. They were still smiling a short time later as they exited the Game room door where Della and Shadi were waiting, also wearing smiles. As the five sorority sisters engaged in a big group hug, Sue chirped, “I’d say there HAS been some camaraderie built there. I know my volunteering us to a similar fate next month was a bit bold and assuming on my part, but I know we will all have fun in the end, girls. I know you’ll be there with us, if it’s at all possible, Zatanna.”

“We’ll see, Sue,” Zatanna replied with a friendly smile. “I’m not trying to be rude, girls, when I smart off. It’s just part of my personality. So, that leaves us with Diana…now in her final minute for this joust game…and Barbara…out there suckling on her former teacher’s nipples. Which entertainment are we going to get first?”

“Barbara just paused her breast pleasuring and is now talking to Miss Hartnell,” Wanda announced matter-of-factly. “My guess is she will soon hit Rachel’s debreast button and make good with her promise to play one of Bill’s debreasting booth games. I hope Miss Hotness, as Janet calls her, enjoys getting her perfect C-cup balloons popped by her former student, because that is the entertainment on deck.”

“It looks like we’re going to have our choice of entertainment, Wanda,” Dinah quipped jovially, “because those girls from that sorority out to ruin Diana’s massive hooters just stepped into the Bacon Poacher’s boxes and are stripping. WW’s breasts are pretty purple! Maybe that will distract her and she’ll get sent into temporary breast suspension.” Dinah giggled loudly and then chortled, “NAAaaah! Not this joust! I’ll bet the tall redhead with the swooping C-cups is hanging by her tits two minutes from now, and that muscular brunette’s drooping D-cups get the same treatment before the redhead hits the floor in three pieces!”

Meanwhile, out at debreasting booth 1, Barbara Wright was pointing out, “Well, Miss Hartnell…Rachel I mean…we have the debreasting booths to ourselves for the moment. Shall we finish our game before other girls start filling the empty booths?”

“Would you consider not accepting my offered donations, Barbara,” Rachel replied softly in a quivering voice, “and join me, later tonight, for a very pleasant tryst with me. You can even bring your friends. I promise you will all go home sexually satiated!”

“A most tempting offer, I’m sure, Rachel,” Barbara replied with a giggle despite the serious tone in her former teacher’s voice, “but I’ll be auditioning for my wedding night tomorrow evening. I think I’ll perform better if I start that evening hungry for sex rather than recently satiated. Besides, I did have that promise to fill the booth you are now in myself, or harvest the offered breasts from the girl who filled it instead of me…your perfect C-cups, Miss Hartnell. I’m not sure there are any options to consider…other than picking the moment to begin finishing our game together.”

“I suppose not, Barbara,” Rachel agreed softly, a hint of laughter joining the quiver in her voice. “You did very well with your breast pleasuring…despite the distractions around us…and got me quite wet…so I’ll very much enjoy the pleasure beams this night. I guess tonight is as good a night as any to make my donation to the worldwide food chain. Do speak well of me, Barbara, when you tell your friends…my students…of the night you popped your teacher’s balloons.”

“Oh, I will Rachel,” Barbara replied with pleasant smile on her face as she pushed her hand upward towards Miss Hartnell’s red debreast button. “I’ll make sure all of my friends, many of whom still have their senior year at East High School left and your home economics class to take, hear about the night I poached the bacon off your chest. I’ll make sure they hear how you handled the pain and pleasure that comes with a partial conversion to meat. I’ll make sure they know they might get to see you air dance at the end of the annual Final Fantasy Dairy field trip, as Bill Jennings, the man I hope to be married to, snaps up your fillet for dinner.” Barbara’s smile broadened as she pressed her fingers against the red button and was rewarded by a soft click that announced the blonde bombshell’s fate was sealed, and the sharp gasp from within booth 1 that indicated the young teacher had heard that mechanical pronouncement.

“Yes!” Janet squealed excitedly. “Barbara pressed Miss Hotness’s debreast button. This has been the coolest round of booth stints ever! I wonder how that sultry blonde teacher is going to get her puppies knocked off? Yes…I know…I’ll see momentarily.” Janet grinned as her tablemates laughed around her and the three girls at Bill Jennings’s table, only one of them still carrying breasts, began pointing toward booth 1 and chattering excitedly.

“No mystery this time, Janet,” Sue said softly as she nodded towards the front of the dance floor. “That circular disk with serrations on its razor-sharp outer edge that just popped out of the front of booth one and started spinning rapidly means Miss Hartnell is going to get her boobies buzz sawed off of her chest. I hope she enjoys making the voluntary partial conversion she helps promote during her dairy day field trip.”

“Given no other choice, I’m sure she will, Sue,” Wanda replied with a knowing look on her face. “Based on my brief conversation with her, I believe that teacher will make the most of her debreasting experience, just as she will make the most of her air dance when she demonstrates involuntary full conversion to meat to her field-trip class about a year from now.”

“That knockout of a teacher…any boy’s wet dream…is about to get her chest permanently mutilated,” Oliver Queen spat in disbelief, “and, according to Wanda’s foretelling, will get herself snuffed next year, and you girls don’t even feel sorry for her? Christ! Aren’t you girls a bit lacking in compassion?”

“Perhaps they are, Ollie,” Zatanna agreed nodding with a frown on her face, “but that lack of compassion is a necessity given when and where we are. You have to remember that all girls here are meat in the end, and their only choice is really in how they live their lives right up to that end. That’s why Wanda was emphasizing she believes Rachel will make the most of her debreasting tonight…and her execution next year so that her fillet can become our closest friend from this city’s dinner. Aren’t you and Hank still planning on executing a couple of waitresses later tonight so that you can have their fillets for dinner?”

“Yes, I suppose we are, Zatanna,” Oliver admitted in a shaky voice. “Your point is well made. If Hank and I go ahead with those plans…even though those waitresses are strangers to us…we will be showing that same lack of compassion. I don’t know what we were thinking?”

“You were thinking about going with the flow, boyfriend!” Dinah chided with a wicked grin on her face. “Like I said earlier, don’t think about what we’re doing now compared to what we would have considered morally right at home. You knew before we left home that you were going to watch girls getting their tits ruined…that you were even going to kill some breasts yourselves…and that you were going to eat girl meat tonight…maybe even tablemates’ meat. You knew the fillets you are going to munch on later were going to be harvested from executed girls. If you guys order stock fillets, the kitchen will just order two more girls executed to replenish their supply. Within the context of this culture, your participation in the harvesting of those fillets isn’t a lack of compassion…it’s your privilege as males. Besides, as Wanda warned you both before we left, you boys could even get put in a position where you have to stand idly by while one or more of us girls gets murdered for her meat…or possibly have to do that murdering yourselves. It’s too late to change your minds now. Just go with the flow…and do try to enjoy yourselves while doing so!”

“Nice pep talk, Dinah,” Hank Pym interjected with a chuckle. “While all that was good advice, you can’t fault us for questioning what we’ve done and will be doing later…given who and what we are. However, I’m pretty sure that, in the end, Oliver and I will enjoy ourselves as we do go with the flow. Just don’t forget the advice you just gave us if we do exercise our privileges as males. Now, why don’t you keep an eye on those Bacon Poachers just mounting the balance beam to joust with Diana, while I watch a buzz saw blade go to work on a pretty blonde teacher’s fair-skinned ta tas. Everyone else should pick their own viewing pleasure!”

Meanwhile, Barbara, who had resumed suckling pinkish breast tips, pulled her lips from engorged nipples and announced, “You better prepare yourself Rachel! Pain is about to be added to the pleasure the orgasmatron beam has been giving you. The saw blade is near the bases of your breasts now!”

“What?” Rachel Hartnell gasped as she forced her attention from the pleasant glow she was feeling from her sopping wet sex to her former student’s words. “OH! Didn’t you learn anything from my class, Barbara? You need to tug on my breasts now…you need to make sure all of my breast bacon is on your side of that buzz saw. The worldwide food chain deserves every gram of meat I can possibly donate tonight!”

“Yes, Miss Hartnell,” Barbara replied with a giggle as she grasped a turreted nipple between the thumbs and forefingers of each hand. “I did learn a lot from your class, and did know it was my duty to help you make the largest partial donation possible. I just wanted to warn you before I started pulling on these nipples!” The young blonde grinned as she stared into the opaque booth window before firmly tugging outward on the swollen nipples, distending a pair of perfect C-cups. Her grin became a broad smile as her former teacher gasped in surprise and then began sighing in climax. The sighs stepped up in volume as the teacher felt a gentle breeze where breasts became chest, and then an itching sensation at the inner bases of the undersides of her breasts.

“ICE HOT!” Barbara roared jovially. “The saw has started to work on your pretty breasts, Rachel. I can’t believe I’m actually getting the chance to pop one of my prettiest teacher’s big balloons. How does it feel to know that one of your student’s is letting the air out of those precious chest ornaments, Miss Hartnell?”

“Ice…hot!” Rachel Hartnell gasped as she managed to maintain climax despite the searing agony now exuding from the bases of her breasts. “I love the way the pleasure…and pain…mix to form a…unique sensation…a girl can only…experience once. I just…wish…I had been…wise enough…to use…a dead slow…speed setting! I could have…prolonged…this unique…sensation. I’m glad…you’re accepting…my partial donation…Barbara! I…hope…you enjoy…participating in this…debreasting demonstration. My final lesson…for you…to learn!”

“I am, Rachel!” Barbara replied with a happy giggle. “I’ve been told that this, my first, will be my only breast poaching experience. I’m glad it’s your breasts I’m harvesting, Miss Hartnell. It seems only fitting that it’s my home economics teacher’s boobs that I’m getting to convert into bacon. I’m a good student, Rachel, and do pay attention. If it ever becomes my turn to make a partial donation…I’ll make my own balloon popping last as long as I possibly can! The buzz saw on medium setting DOES slice through boobs way too fast, as you are now teaching me, Miss Hartnell!”

“Look at the way that spinning saw blade is chewing through Miss Hotness’s puppies,” Janet exclaimed excitedly as she bounced on her chair. “The air is just rushing out of those balloons!”

“Janet’s right,” Sue lamented with a frown on her face. “For someone who teaches students about partial donations, Miss Hartnell has been careless in selecting the options governing the harvesting of her own boobies. Even though she was hoping to play the debreasting booth game without having her offered donations accepted, she should have set a slower debreasting speed, just in case events played out as they have.”

“Yes, Sue, she should have,” Wanda agreed while nodding toward booth 1. “Keep that in mind as we start taking turns in those booths ourselves, girls. Don’t be tempted into selecting boring debreasting options because you think it will help you make it through a booth stint intact! You may end up regretting a less than perfect balloon popping experience. Got that, Dinah?”

Dinah pulled her eyes from the ongoing Balance Beam Joust game to glance at the half severed breasts protruding from booth 1, and the chortled, “You don’t have to worry about me, Wanda. Double-cut laser set on dead slow is the ‘safest’ debreasting method I plan on risking ruining my tits with. Her tits may be getting munched fairly quickly by that buzz saw, but it does look like a pretty cool debreasting method, and she does seem to be getting a good cum out of it.”

“Yeah, it does look pretty cool, the way that blade is working upwards under the bases of her breasts doesn’t it,” Wanda replied with a sheepish grin on her face, “and she is experiencing a nice prolonged climax isn’t she? It might be a nice option on the dead slow setting. You know, none of us girls have given the most commonly used debreasting club option a go. I wonder why that is?”

“OH…WOW!” Oliver Queen spat loudly as he stared out at the jousting area, interrupting any reply Wanda may have gotten to her question. “Did you see that, Hank? That redhead almost had Diana’s ankle cuff ring hooked. Our girl definitely seems to be having trouble concentrating on this joust. Are we about to see those big jugs splat on the floor after a nice long period of breast suspension?”

Wonder Woman blushed badly as she narrowly avoided having her breasts being put into dire danger by the redhead’s thrust of her jousting pole. As the redhead retreated following her near miss with the hook at the end of that pole, Diana twisted and managed a last minute parry of the brunette’s attempt to hook one of her waist belt rings. These two opponents, each sporting a clean-shaven vulva, were being very methodical and cautious in their approach to the joust, which was continuing despite the timer having run down to zero.

Princess Diana of Themyscira admired her opponents strategy and worried that she herself might suffer a misstep sooner rather than later. By engaging in a slow and careful attack, the sorority girls were accomplishing two things that increased their chances of toppling the Amazon warrior from her perch—firstly, more alcohol was entering Diana’s bloodstream as time went on, and, secondly, the numbing and tingling breasts carried by the superheroine were becoming progressively more distracting.

It was the second factor Wonder Woman was most concerned about. She knew the nooses could not cause permanent damage to her breasts by cutting of their blood supply—that blood was supplied by a diverse network of smaller arteries that precluded total stoppage of blood flow—but the pins-and-needles sensation that accompanied the numbing of her chest ornaments was giving way to an aching that Diana could hardly ignore. With both sorority girls comfortable with pausing their intermittent yet coordinated attacks out of reach of her own jousting pole, the Amazon warrior wondered if it wasn’t time for herself to get aggressive and press the attack against the weaker of the two girls—the redhead.

“How are we doing in there, Rachel?” Barbara asked with a look of apprehension on her young face for the first time as the sighs of pleasure coming from within booth 1 had faded into gasps of agony and moans of despair. “You’re more than half done with getting these pretty balloons popped.”

“I’m…okay…Barbara,” Rachel Hartnell stammered as she saw the genuine concern beaming from her former student’s face. “Getting…debreasted…hurts! Hurts like…HELL! It’s hard…to focus…on the…pleasure beams…now. Hope…the intensity…steps up…before I’m…done!”

“I hope so too, Rachel,” Barbara Wright replied as she watched the rising blade approach the top inside arcs of her former teacher’s breasts. “I want you climaxing for me as I take possession of these pretty breasts you’ve chosen to donate to the worldwide food chain. You should be proud of your sacrifice to society, Miss Hartnell!”

“I’ll try…and I am…Barbara,” Rachel stammered while grinning in her booth. “AHHHhh! There’s that…intensity increase! Must…concentrate!”

Barbara grinned as the skin on both sides of the outer upper arcs of the fair-skinned C-cups slowly unzipped to reveal even more spinning saw blade, and then grinned even wider as Rachel broke into the staccato sigh that told of intense orgasm. “That’s it, Miss Hartnell, enjoy the sensation of the air rushing out of your big balloons!” the young woman implored. “Give them up, teach! These bacon lumps are going to be MINE!

“YES!” Barbara Wright screamed jubilantly as the buzz saw finished its work, drowning out the sound of the booth restraints releasing, and the breasts protruding from booth 1 came free causing her hands to be pulled downward by the nipples she was firmly pinching. “POPPED! I popped my teacher’s big balloons!” Barbara quickly hefted the severed C-cups up before the booth’s opaque window as the audience applauded loudly, and chortled, “Look, Miss Hartnell, I’m holding your moneymakers! Your breasts have been poached and converted into bacon…just as you taught me most every girl should consider getting done to herself!”

“Well done, Barbara, I’m proud of both of us!” Rachel Hartnell replied with a strange mixture of pride and pain and regret in her voice. “You facilitated my partial donation like a real professional. Please do enjoy the sandwiches made from those bacon lumps. The booth attendant wants me out of here so she can bandage me, but before I go, I just wanted to wish you good luck with that marriage you spoke of. Now get those donations to the kitchen!”

Barbara Wright grinned with satisfaction as she watched her teacher being pulled backwards out of the booth through the now empty debreasting portals. She glanced at the perfect C-cups dangling from her hands, shrugged her shoulders, and turned to make her way to the kitchen counter. She would enjoy a sandwich made from her teacher’s breast bacon, before dining on a fillet purchased for her by her husband to be. That marriage, promised to her if she could survive a night of death games, would mean that her own perfect D-cups would be vouchsafed from ever being harvested—unless, of course, she lost a sordid form of dart game she had yet to learn about.

Wanda Maximoff flashed a smile of encouragement to Barbara Wright as the young blonde made her way to the kitchen-ordering station with two severed C-cups in hand, and then forced her attention to the Balance Beam Joust game area as she heard Dinah exclaim excitedly, “That’s the right idea, Princess! Take the fight to them. Put an end to their lollygagging!”

Wanda watched as the Amazon confidently closed in on the long-haired brown-eyed redhead and smiled knowingly. The sorority girls’ tactic of intermittent coordinated attacks had worked well while the raven-haired heroine had allowed them to employ it. Now it would likely turn out to be a fatal tactic as Diana’s counter tactic would prevent the muscular, short-haired, blue-eyed brunette from coming to the aid of her partner.

Princess Diana of Themyscira smiled at the nervous fear that had suddenly filled the redhead’s eyes. The sorority girl could obviously sense the change in momentum in this very dangerous jousting match. Wonder Woman, for her part, was tired of this jousting match if only for the lack of jousting the three pairs of girls had given her. “Prepare for defeat and pain, youngster,” Diana spat contemptuously. “My intent is to sacrifice those brownish-pink-tipped C-cups to the gods, before doing the same to your sorority sister’s similarly tipped D-cups!”

“Yeah, well bring it on, big tits,” the redhead blustered trying to mask the terror that was gradually drowning her will to survive. She parried hard to the left with her jousting pole as the raven-haired girl thrust the hook at the end of her own jousting pole at the ring on the waist belt below her bellybutton. Her terror grew as the huge-breasted girl with turreted nipples nimbly swept the end of her pole under her attempted parry to hook the ring on the outside of her right thigh cuff strap. The redhead dropped her right hand down to try to grab the end of her opponent’s pole as she shuffled forward to try to gain some slack in the hook hold.

Wonder Woman read the redhead’s desperate tactic with ease, and nimbly forced the sorority sister towards the audience dislodging her from the beam as she screamed in terror, forcing the girl to let her breast nooses take her weight and cinch tightly around the bases of her chest ornaments. Diana’s blue eyes laughed at the girl, now moaning in pain and desperately trying to grip the well-greased rope, as she chortled, “Worry not, young redhead, though the nooses around those distended C-cups bring much pain, said pain is short-lived. In two minutes your tender breasts will never feel pain again!”

Princess Diana turned to face the muscular brunette who stood with mouth agape, staring at her sorority sister now hanging over the combat area, and chided, “Worry not about your fellow combatant’s fate, young one, for soon you will join her in that fate. En garde!”

“You can try, you big-titted cow, but I think you’ll find I won’t go down so easily!” the brunette spat angrily back, her blue eyes filled with rage. The two girls quickly fenced with pole ends from long distance for a few seconds before the sorority girl paused and waved the huge-breasted Bacon Risker forward.

Diana grinned as she complied and flashed her pole hook downward at the brunette’s left outside ankle cuff ring. The athletic brunette nimbly slid her left foot back and slashed her own pole hook at the Amazon’s right wrist cuff, now extended in her attempt to hook the brunette’s ankle cuff. Wonder Woman nimbly pushed her right hand and the pole it held upward to avoid getting hooked and then parried the sorority girl’s downward thrust at her right ankle cuff as the brunette bent low enough for her nooses to pull upward on her breasts.

The brunette, realizing her attack had been countered, immediately tried to recover and straighten back upright. Unfortunately for her, the raven-haired Bacon Risker had anticipated this, and easily hooked her forward neck belt ring. Unquestionably outmaneuvered and about to be forced off the balance beam, the brunette tossed her jousting pole away and exhorted, “Enough! I surrender! You defeated me…I admit it…so get these breast nooses off of me and let me down!”

“Down you will go, foolish girl, for it must be so,” Diana chortled as she kept the neck ring firmly hooked. “The rules of this game allow for only one girl to have her breast nooses removed by the game attendants—the last girl still carrying breasts after the Balance Beam Joust game’s timer has expired. For the moment, we both still carry breasts—two minutes from now, only my breasts will be in nooses awaiting release by the attendants. Wonder Woman casually forced the trapped neck sideways out over the combat area until the brunette lost her balance.

“NO!” the brunette shrilled as she toppled sideways, and then screamed in pain as she felt an obscene amount of tension on her breast bases as the plastic nooses cinched tightly around them. “One of my sorority sisters will get you, you brutal bitch!” the muscular girl roared as she struggled hopelessly to grip the greased rope and take some weight off her noosed breasts. “Sooner or later, the girls of Phi Gamma Phi are going to hang you by those big knockers of yours. When we do, we’re all going to cheer in jubilation!”

“Perhaps, it will be so, young one,” Princess Diana quipped as she nodded at the swaying and twisting form of the brunette and the smiled at the terrified look on the redhead’s face as she watched the reagent in her plastic noose dissolving its inner liner. “If it is to be so, I will cheer with you as my breasts splat on the surface of yon floor. However, perhaps it will be my prediction that will instead come true, and Phi Gamma Phi will become the second breastless sorority at Metropolitan University.” Wonder Woman smiled sheepishly as she tossed her jousting pole to Jill and began rubbing her purpled breasts as she patiently waited for two pair of smaller breasts to get separated from their owners’ chests.

Sue smiled as she watched Wanda and Barbara take their respective seats at two separate tables after hugging and then talking to Rachel Hartnell. “Is Rachel taking her debreasting as well as she seems to be, Wanda?” Sue asked softly as she watched the blonde bombshell now wearing two circular bandages walk back towards her table near the nightclub’s main entrance.

“As well as can be expected, Sue,” Wanda replied softly and then chortled, “and much better than those sorority sisters. Actually I’m surprised at how resilient these girls are. Rachel’s actually going to hang around for a while and party with some of her fellow teachers before getting her chest wounds properly treated an all-night instant-care clinic near her apartment.”

“Yeah, these two sorority sisters are a pair of sore losers,” Janet agreed as she nodded out to the combat zone around the balance beam, and then grinned at her husband. “Close your mouth while you watch the pretty girls hang by their moneymakers, Hank. Those purpling breasts will be getting sliced and diced soon enough for your viewing pleasure.” Then the spunky heroine turned back to her auburn-haired teammate and asked, “Did Miss Hotness disclose the names of any of those fellow teachers, Wanda?”

“A few, Janet, that you might recognize, and a few that you won’t,” Wanda replied with a knowing smile on her face. “Rachel is hanging around partly because she thinks most all of the teachers will do a booth stint. Mariko Nakamura will be one of the teachers coming tonight, obviously just as an observer.”

“She’s coming to a debreasting booth nightclub…so soon after being debreasted as part of a field-trip demonstration?” Janet gasped in obvious astonishment. “Now that takes moxie. Wait! If she’s coming, then maybe her friend….”

“Indeed, Janet,” Wanda interjected with a loud laugh at her fellow Avenger, “the other teacher’s name that I recognized belongs to Mariko’s fellow art teacher and, presumably, closest friend, Helen Thomas. What do you think of that?”

“I think that if that Grade-A brown-eyed long-haired brunette sporting the perfect breasts I covet so much shows up and takes a booth, one of us should turn her D-cups into food for our table’s culinary delight,” Janet chortled jovially. “I’ll do it if I’m able, but I expect one of you girls to debreast her if I can’t. This was part of our agreement when we convinced Wanda to change our approaches to the debreasting booth game. We try to win the game and keep our own breasts, but we also harvest the breasts from girls who strike our fancy.”

“There goes the redhead’s noose covering,” Hank Pym exclaimed excitedly as he watched the two girls hanging in air a few dozen feet away, evidently unaware of the strange conversation some of the heroines at his table were engaged in. “Now those C-cups are trying to deal with razor wire cinching into and pulling upward through them. She’s already started sinking toward the floor! God I love watching this game!”

“Yeah we know, Hank,” Dinah spat while she grinned at Hank Pym and then turned to look at his wife. “I’ll ruin the tits of any girl you want me to, Janet, even if she isn’t a rich bitch. Just point me towards the right booth!”

“Thanks, Dinah, I knew we could count on you for that even before we brought you here,” Janet replied with a laugh. “I know I can count on the boys too. What about the rest of you girls?”

Zatanna shrugged her shoulders and replied, “I’m in, if I’m the last resort, Janet. Beyond that, I want to pick my own breasts to harvest, and not be someone else’s breast assassin!”

“I’m out!” Sue announced softly with the emotion she felt obvious in her voice. “I agreed to risk my breasts while hoping to win the debreasting booth game and return home breasted. I’m not going to earn any bad karma by debreasting other girls. Don’t argue with me about it when the time comes either. My decision is final.”

“There goes the brunette’s plastic covering up in smoke, Hank,” Oliver announced with a chuckle. “Now you can work out the math and predict how long the redhead’s C-cups will be alone on the floor before the brunette’s D-cups join them.” Then the bearded hero turned to the heroines at his table and asked with confusion in his green eyes, “So, what have you girls got against this Helen, anyhow? Why are you plotting to send her home breastless before she even arrives?”

“We don’t have anything against Helen, Ollie,” Janet replied truthfully. “She seems to be a real stand-up gal, actually. I just had this moment, the other day while we were donating milk in the dairy, where I ‘went with the flow’, as Dinah puts it, of where and when we are, and decided Miss Thomas’s D-cups would make really great sandwich meat. When we changed our approach to risking our breasts in the debreasting booth game later that day, Wanda had the epiphany that we should change our attitude about harvesting other girls’ breasts as well. It seems that idea took with everyone except Sue. How about it, Wanda? Have you changed your attitude?”

“Yes, Janet, I have,” Wanda answered quickly, “as the game I was playing with Francheska should have proved. That said, whether or not I play the part of ‘breast assassin’ and feed you the sandwich meat you covet, because you are unable to harvest it for yourself, will depend on my mood at the time. I’ll make no promises regarding harvesting Helen’s perfect D-cups…if she’s indeed foolish enough to take a booth.”

Oliver Queen broke into laughter and chortled, “I’m at a table full of foolish girls talking about how foolish another girl is. What do you make of that, Hank?”

“I think I like foolish girls, Ollie,” Hank Pym replied with brutal honesty. “I won’t mind watching every foolish girl in the room get her ta tas turned into table scraps. That goes double for tablemates…sorry sweet Sue! Now, everyone hush, as I predict we’re about to hear some C-cups go splat!” Hank grinned from ear to ear as his stunned tablemates sat staring at him in disbelief, and then, as a wet double splat accompanied a moan of disappointment and two feet landing on the floor could be clearly heard, proclaimed, “COOL! Now, give it another minute and you’ll hear an even louder double splat!”

Oliver Queen roared with laughter before teasing a glaring Janet with, “What? He’s your husband. You should have known this place was going to turn him into a debreasting fanatic, Janet!” The table roared with laughter as Janet blushed badly.

Wanda Maximoff once again diverted her attention from her own table, and began eavesdropping on Bill Jennings’ table as she watched sandwiches made from Rachel’s breast meat get distributed by the ever pleasant Kaori, along with a vegetarian sandwich for Bill. Barbara seemed quite proud of her breast harvesting, and Bill seemed quite thrilled that the young blonde had enjoyed participating in his establishment’s principal pastime. With the sandwiches distributed, Bill ordered four stock fillets to be prepared for his tablemates, and then listened as each girl instructed Kaori on how they wanted their expensive meat cuts prepared. Finally, as Kaori prepared to depart for the kitchen, Bill noted that it was near shift change for the potential menu-item waitresses, and told her to remind Cheryl that he had promised the waitresses’ fillets would be presented to the men at Wanda’s table for assessment as potential food, just as Kaori’s own fillet had been inspected earlier.

Wanda was about to return her attention to the D-cups slowly being rendered into dead meat over the Balance Beam Joust game’s combat area, when she heard a buzzing sound coming from Simone’s position. She watched as Simone pulled a small communication device, the 41^st Century version of a cellular phone, from her white dress shorts. The dark-skinned girl said hello and then nodded with widening eyes as she listened. Without saying a word she passed the phone to Debbie, who became pallid as she listened to what was being said by the person on the other end of the line.

“HOLA!” Wonder Woman chortled jubilantly as the muscular brunette and her D-cups dropped onto the combat zone in three separate pieces. “Tell your sorority sisters to send better jousters, foolish girl, the next time they see me take the Bacon Risker’s box. I crave a greater challenge as I send more girls home breastless!” Diana smiled as she saw most of her tablemates cheering her victory, as applause came from most of the tables in the nightclub. She noted that Wanda seemed preoccupied with the girls at the adjacent table.

As Diana watched Jill and Tina busily bandage the sorority girls, she looked pleadingly at Tricia and asked, “Could you get these nooses off me now, friend Tricia? My breasts are now totally without feeling. It may be a while before they are ready for another bout.” She smiled as Tricia hurried up her ladder and went to work on the nooses. The Amazon’s smile broadened as she watched the dressing would-be bacon poachers watch their harvested breasts carried off to the kitchen by one of the waitresses. As Diana, freed of her debreasting nooses, hurried down the ladder and over to her bikini in the Bacon Risker box, she grinned sheepishly as she realized how wet debreasting the sorority girls had made her sex.

Wanda hardly noticed Princess Diana, dressed in her patriotic bikini bottoms but still carrying her top, rejoin their table as Debbie finally handed the ‘phone’ back to Simone, who quickly put it back into her shorts pocket. “It’s Eric!” Debbie announced in a quivering voice to her tablemates. “He just died of a heart attack while he was fornicating with that young secretary of his. I’m a widow!”

“Debbie, you were a papered girl who had just gotten herself debreasted,” Simone said softly with as much compassion for her friend’s feelings as she could manage. “If Eric were alive when we got home, you would have surely been quickly driven to a government conversion facility for live butchering following a quick divorce. Yes, the old goat has gone and died on you, removing your papered status and protection from The Lottery, but unless he has some surprises built into his will that you don’t know about, he’s left you a RICH widow. Now, even breastless, you can buy yourself a new husband and a new set of papers. Don’t you see? You just got the best news a girl in your position could ever dream of!”

As the confusion on Debbie’s face slowly became joy, her female tablemates pulled her onto her feet and gave her a group hug. Bill Jennings looked strangely confused as to what to do as he watched his tablemates commiserate with Debbie. The nightclub owner didn’t look comfortable until Cheryl showed up at his table with to-go boxes, some filled with freshly prepared fillets and some empty for the barely eaten sandwiches. She had a strange look on her face as she announced that a taxi was waiting to take the girls to an instant-care facility and then to Debbie’s apartment where her husband’s friends were gathering.

Wanda couldn’t help but notice Cheryl glare at her and then hurry away. Bill Jennings didn’t miss it either, but chose to ignore his new manager’s moodiness and concentrate on tomorrow night’s entertainment. Before his tablemates departed, he made sure that Barbara was still going to meet him the following night at Club X. Wanda shrugged her shoulders as she saw the young girl commit again to a night of orgies and death games. Then Wanda returned her attention to her own table.

“Is all well with you, friend Wanda?” Princess Diana asked with a friendly smile while busily massaging her own breasts, one in each hand, as soon as she noticed the auburn-haired Avenger’s distraction end. “Your mind seemed strangely elsewhere.”

“Yes…I’m fine, Diana,” Wanda quickly replied, a little embarrassed that she had been caught in her eavesdropping. “I just couldn’t help hearing the sad news of Debbie’s husband’s passing. At least Barbara’s debreasted sister is now likely rich in her own right.” Wanda smiled apologetically as she watched Dinah frown and then asked, “I wonder if Bill will rejoin our table, now that his date for tomorrow and her friends have left? I want to ask him about this uncharacteristic applause we’re hearing as girls get debreasted.”

“I would welcome Bill’s company, Wanda,” Sue replied softly with a friendly smile on her face, “so long as this remains our table and not his when the lottery gets held! I’d rather not risk any death games tonight!”

“We’re all in agreement on that point, Sue,” Janet chortled while wearing a broad grin, once again missing the obvious attempts at poker faces the men at her table were making. “Guess what girls? We no longer have anyone from nearby tables looking to get even for us for what we did to their tablemates. Additionally, the dance floor has emptied out, so it looks like harvest time has ended. Ended in a massacre of breasts, I’ll gleefully admit, but over with none the less. I think most of the room has had their fill of breast poaching action for now…listen to the buzz of people talking.”

“What’s your point, Janet?” Hank Pym asked softly with a confused look on his face. “I was enjoying that massacre, I’ll have you know!”

“She knows, Hank,” Wanda replied with a knowing look on her face. “Her point should be obvious. Right now, it’s about as safe as its going to get to do a booth stint with a good chance of winning. Those three girls think so too!” Wanda nodded to two large-breasted girls and one small-breasted girl headed for the Game room door.

“I took a booth last on our last visit to Final Fantasy, girls,” Sue admitted with a nervous smile on her face, “so I should go first this time. I think Wanda and Janet are right, so I’m going to get one stint over with now. Wish me luck, girls!” Sue stood and turned towards the Game room door.

“Wish US luck!” Zatanna spat with a hearty chuckle. “I know it’s unusual for two of us to take booths at the same time, but no one said it is against any rules. I trust your judgment, Sue, so, if you don’t mind, I’m going to join you!” As Sue shrugged her shoulders and then headed towards the three girls standing before the Game room door, Zatanna hurried after her.

To be continued.

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