Disclaimer: For adults only, contains violence and themes of forced sex and mutilation

Disclaimer: For adults only, contains violence and themes of forced sex and mutilation. Reader discretion is advised.

Beating Bambi

Story by Alex Streuth

Bambi sat cross-legged in the waiting room. She wore a tight pink miniskirt which barely covered her thighs. She inspected the tips of her fake acrylics and frowned, sourly, at the man staring across at her.

He looked down at her chest, where a tight spandex glossy pink tee stretched avidly across her enormous cleavage.

Emblazoned in red sparky letters was the name 'Bambi.'

“Bambi huh?” He asked, by way of starting a conversation.

“That's what it says,” she replied, brushing him off. She frowned at him, meeting his gaze for a moment, holding her left hand out at arm's length and staring at the tips again. They both knew that that wasn't her real name.

“So what are you in for?” He asked. She glowered at him.

“Not that its any of your business but I have an appointment to have these reduced.” She nodded slightly, motioning down at her bosom. The man let out a low whistle, as though just seeing them for the first time.

Of course he had seen them already, in fact had surreptitiously been staring at them for the last ten minutes (and could safely gauge them to be about an EE) but he hadn't been able to think of something to say to her that would allow him to look directly at them. Finally he had settled on just talking about the name written on the shirt.

The shirt that was now rustling a bit as the girl stuck her hand down in between her cleavage and retrieved her compact. Her pink acrylic nails disappeared behind the fabric for a moment and plucked it out.

He wondered what other treasures she had hidden there.

“Reduced? Oh they must be a real burden to carry around...” He watched her face, wondering if he could slide his next query in smoothly or not, he decided to go for it anyway, he was burning to know. “I'd say what, 8-10 pounds, each?” He couldn't help squeaking a bit on that last word and hoped it didn't show too badly.

She looked at him, really looked at him for a second, dryly, as if to say “Are you for real?” She smiled though, real adroitly, and it lasted for a few seconds before she held her hand out, palm up, and said “Twenty bucks.”

“Twenty bucks and what?” He wanted to know exactly what he would be getting.

She pointed, they were in a doctor's waiting room after all, and he looked at the weighing machine off to the side. It was obviously old, and out here because it was, a relic of a past time, but nevertheless still functional.

“Do I get to...” He started and then stopped, her hard shake telling him no.

“No touching,” she said, “but you get to watch, and you get your answer.”

“Okay,” he said, slowly, “but only if you also give me your CC measurement.”

She blinked, this was obviously a new one on her, but then shrugged. “Sure, whatever, but let me see the money first.”

He fished around in his wallet while she got up and walked over to the machine. It had been used for weighing babies so it was a bit like a sling, the perfect thing for weighing hers.

He coughed, gently, and held out a snappy new twenty. She nodded, and put her chest up in the sling. He fiddled with the weights, sliding the 5 over, and the ten down, then a few ones up, another five, while she tugged on his bill.

He held onto it, struggling with her, while he hurried up the abacus. Eventually it was settled, approximately, since her struggled caused some shaking, but they seemed to be about seventeen pounds all told.

“Now let's measure them separately,” he said, “to see if one weighs...”

She succeeded in pulling the twenty from his grip and promptly put her chest back where it belonged. She slunk back to her chair, pulled a magazine from the stack, and tucked the money between her gorgeous melons.

He walked towards her, disappointed, but she sniffed, dismissively, and he took his seat again.

“At least tell me the CC's please,” he said, but she ignored him.

He guessed they were about two to three thousand CC's each, roughly.

A nurse came out and called her in and she gathered up her purse and sauntered off.

As soon as she was out the door the man smiled and relaxed. He was happy to see that his merchandise was as good as he had been promised over the phone.

He flipped his cell open and made the call, ready to put the deposit down now. He trusted the seller, he ahd always done good work in the past, but one just couldn't be sure until the goods could be seen in person.

“Yeah she's going in to the doctor now, uh huh, yeah they're just as you promised, mm hmm, no, leave her personality, I like it but let's take a bit of the bite away from her bark, eh? Good, good, sounds fine, no preference, oh, well, I have to say they're just about perfect as they are but they're a little too perfect, a little too Vanessa Montaigne round if you know what I'm saying. Yeah I know you know that I like the fake look, they're great I know, but well, I guess just a little more pear shaped is all, you know, give her a bit more of a homebody look, you know, like she's pregnant only she's carrying twins if you know what I'm saying. Okay, yeah I've got another call so I'll talk to you later. Thursday right? Okay good see you then. Yeah payment upon receipt, got it. I really got to go.”

He stood up and ended the call, sliding the phone into his pocket. He reached into his bag and took out a pair of scrubs he had purchased at a uniform store. He slid them on over his clothing and donned the mask, obscuring his face.

He walked in after the nurse, after Bambi, and detracted attention with his confident demeanor and stride. He walked into the observation room for her surgery and watched, watched as the doctor put her under sedation and began the augmentation.

He watched as the incision was made, as the implants were removed and then, against her wishes, new, larger, more pear shaped ones were put in in their place. Thursday was still a few days again, plenty of time for the implants to come to bear on her flesh, stretching them out to his specifications, and for the other 'beautifications' to be made.

He looked at the touch screen before him, it was the same layout one might use to order food at a convenience store. You touch the screen, choose from mutually exclusive options, layer on extras, and place your order.

He pressed 'Face' and chose 'Lips' he touched the + slider a few times, watching as the face on the screen (taken from a video of her inside the OR, with her eyes closed and updating in real time for the underlay) changed to show larger, more plush, more beauti-ful lips.

Bambi had had large full lips to start with, what he was doing was making them grotesquely so, exaggerating them so that they made a fish's lips seem small and thin in comparison. He smiled, wondering if anyone could ever take such a woman seriously ever again and then pressed + a few more times for good measure.

The doctor in the OR responded to his changes and put a blue - - - mark around Bambi's lips, attending to his patient with speed and diligence.

The screen shot of her face on the touch screen updated, refreshing constantly, and he watched as the collagen flowed in and her lips flushed out, the reality slowly catching up to the fantasy. The blue line gradually disappeared, and the mock overlay faded to reveal a lush new pair of lips on the beauty.

The screen beeped and then changed to two options, “Are you finished or would you like to make more changes to your order?” It asked.

He smirked, he had been so caught up with the changes to her face he had forgotten to place the rest of his order. He selected 'No' and quickly touched his way to a perfect woman.

“Larger, wider hips,” he said to himself, touching the screen in a sliding curve, describing her figure to the screen. He redid the left side, not liking how wide his finger stroke had left her waist, and, on the second pass, it was much more narrow. “Looks good,” he said, and then accented the figure by pushing hard on her cleft.

The screen took his jab and translated it into a fuller, more exaggerated expression of her womanhood, larger, dangling labia, a larger, more gaping vaginal maw, and a bright red, tattooed and angry, exposed, clitoris.

He smiled and then jabbed the spot again, holding his finger down and twisting. The labia drooped more and became more fully puffed up, the folds opened more, revealing more of her cunthood, the red of her clit became redder, redder, and then popped in an angry explosion, like a zit, he had condemned it to death. A quick excision would be made of it.

He shrugged, and then dabbled beneath a bit more, looping her labia in more, so that they didn't dangle so much as come full circle, he dabbed at them again, increasing their puffiness, and then ringed her mons, running his finger around it, creating more of a donut shape to her whole affair.

Finally satisfied he watched as the doctor made the necessary marks and then selected his scalpel.

He rested from the touch screen, happy to have finished the majority of his order, and leaned back, stretching his neck. His right palm settled on the screen, off to the side, and toggled the switch marked 'Anesthesia' to the off position.

Bambi came wide awake, the drugs in her system going from sedatives to amphetamines in a short second, just as her owner turned around to study her again and the doctor squeezed her clitoris tight in the forceps.

She bolted upright, her scream piercing, as the doctor finished his duty and tossed the small nub into the bin, wiping the smeary palp remains on his smock and then returning to his work. Bambi hyperventilated beneath her newly enlarged chest, screaming and shrieking as the doctor calmly ignored her and retrieved a donut-shaped collagen ring for insertion.

She was firmly secured around her thighs, ankles, and wrists, and, while her upper half was unbound, the weight in her chest kept her from doing more than half-situps. She trembled, struggling with the weight, and then giving in and laying down again.

Her eyes darted around the room, taking in the stark gore on the doctor's smock and gloves. She screamed again, shrieking in pain and disbelief. She struggled at her shackles, shaking the table slightly in the process.

The doctor shook his head slightly, annoyed at the slight disturbance, and adjusted his grip to get the ring better in.

Her owner, out in the observation room, finished up the order, reducing her calf muscles to require an inclined step, and complementing her figure with a matching anal collagen ring as well.

Bambi tried to clench her sphincter shut as the doctor invaded, but suffered in squirming indignity as her ass was pervaded and perverted. He shunted it with fluid and watched as the ring turned a bright red from the filling, the make-up permanent. He stepped back and consulted the order again.

Bright red collagened lips, bright red collagened vaginal ring, bright red collagened anal ring.

“One final touch,” he said, noting with mirth that this was an original thought.

Bambi was led off the table to the recovery room with a tattoo on her face, one that started on the left side of her mouth and circled up, around her forehead, to come down beside the right of her lips, it said:

“I went to collage'n all I got were three stupid holes.”

The recovery room amounted to a table she was strapped to, cleansed off on, measured, weighed, checked over once, and then inverted, doubled over, and slid into a box.

The box was bolted, sealed, supplied, waxed over and packaged.

“Mark it as freight and ship it off.” The nurse entered the OR to find the patient gone, but the doctor handed her the patient records showing that the reduction was a success and that she had been released.

The nurse smiled and filed the folder away with all the other reductions they had performed that year.

Bambi's new owner slipped out of the observation room unnoticed and changed in the men's room. He stuck his scrubs back into his bag in the waiting room and walked out.

He couldn't wait until Thursday.

Bambi's bags suffered under the G's of the aircraft as it took off, and under the GG's they newly sported. They sagged, pulling out into a pear shape as the plane reached cruising altitude. A 'thermometer' in her cleavage dinged and an RFID report was sent to the doctor's office. He was pleased to see his patient coming along so well.

She landed and was laden onto a truck. The truck stopped at a few houses before depositing her at her owner's front door.

The doorbell was rung, the attendant got a signature, and then she was all his. The box was grabbed, roughly, and dragged in, the angles bumping and causing it to turn over a few times as it was brought into the living room.

“Robbey honey,” the woman dragging the package said, “would you come help mommy with this package?”

Robbey skipped into the room and kissed his stepmom lightly on the cheek.

“Its from your Uncle,” she said, laying into it with a crowbar. “He said he'd get us something for the kitchen and the den.”

Robbey's face lit up as the package was opened and the naked, fuming woman was revealed. She struggled in her bonds, jerking around like a trussed pig. Her fat, juddering teats shuddered and slapped against the floor as she flipped sideways and scooted.

“Grab it by its legs and help mommy,” she said. Robbey clapped his hands in appreciation of the new thing. “Okay, now drag it up the stairs,” there were three short stairs leading up from the living room to the landing.

Robbey knelt down and sniffed at the thing's backside, smelling its ass and pussy, each gaping wide and leaking juices. He liked the smell a lot, it reminded him of his other toys.

“Okay Robbey honey just hold on a second,” his stepmom said, admonishing him to keep his pants on, “let's just get it in place first okay?”

Robbey grabbed the sides of Bambi's minute waist and flung himself on her, letting his pants fall down around his ankles and sliding himself up and into her sloppy wet ravine. He grabbed at her full tits and fucked her fast and hard.

His stepmom rolled her eyes and tapped her foot, holding the struggling woman's shoulders and waiting, patiently, for her stepson to finish.

Robbey rolled over and off of it and his stepmom dragged, pulling Bambi, still kicking and screaming, and now leaking sex, over the tile of the kitchen.

The tight skin of Bambi's bosom squeaked on the tile floor, and she felt her armpits being tugged. She was tossed, rudely, but not too forcefully, by the stepmother into a hole in the wall.

“Come here Robbey, help me fix her in.” The stepmother seemed frustrated by her son's reluctance to help.

Robbey rolled on the floor some more, turning his head to the side, and then getting up onto all fours and scampering up to the trapped woman.

His stepmom grabbed the broom and swatted Bambi, hard, on the open chest, screaming at her to shut up.

“Quiet you cow, you hush up now and let my Robbey take care of you.” Bambi became frightened, and meek, for a moment, and then lashed out as best she could when Robbey jumped on her.

“Fix her in the frame,” the woman with the broom said, glowering down at the cow.

Robbey worked like a spider monkey, all hands and quick movements, dropping low into a squat and gripping Bambi's elbow, adjusting, hooking, looping, tying, releasing, threading, until a pulley gripped Bambi between the legs, she could feel it tightening on her pelvis, and suspended her into the air.

Robbey pulled, and she rose, still struggling and thrashing, her heavy chest drooping down, higher into the air. The woman of the house smacked her on the side with the broom and she spun, like a pinata, to face around the other way.

A quick press of a switch, a pneumatic hiss, and a pressurized release of foam surrounded the cowed woman like a web thrown about a fly.

“Robbey like like,” Robbey said, clapping, as the woman's gyrations came to rest. She had spun about a few times as the foam surrounded her but he had gotten what he considered the better end of the bargain.

Pointing directly into his room were two pouting orifices, one sloppy and moist, the other tighter and more dry, both ringed to immense roundness and easily accessible to one who was so inclined.

He did so now, climbing up a small rise and inclining himself into her, sliding in for easy access as the sour half of her, the 'dairy' side, spouted off obscenities at his stepmother.

She narrowed her eyes, staring out at the kitchen as the foam surrounded her neck and trapped her in. She yelled out, screaching, at the stepmom, who immediately regretted letting Robbie's uncle pick out a present for him.

“Something to help out around the house,” he had said, well, now she had to deal with this constant shrewish shrieking!

“Let me out of here you bitch, I hate you, he's fucking raping me, your good for nothing damned fucking son is fucking raping me, oh it hurts, you fucking low life son of a bitch, you bitch! You let me out of here this...”

She wanted it to stop, she tried to think of some way to shut her up but the buzzing in her neck told her it was time. She fell to all fours and put her hands near her neck, if she didn't keep them in close proximity she was shocked into passivity by the collar.

When the package had arrived she had hoped it would be someone to take her place, become Robbie's new 'stepmom,' and to some degree she was right. Robbie now had another thing to play with and she wouldn't have to feel his touch, but his Uncle had still not released her from her domestic duties.

“To help out in the kitchen and the den,” he had said... Oh it had been too much to hope.

“You let me out of here right now you bitch, you fucking animal, you beast!”

Robbie's stepmom tried to tell her to shut up, to just shut the fuck up, but the collar was active now, and everything she screamed came out as barks:

“Woof, woof woof! Woof woof!”

“You bitch, when I, ow, ow you bitch, you rotten shit bitch piece of stupid mutt cunt!” Bambi screamed.

Robbie's stepmom was focused on the only part of Bambi she could reach, her dumb hanging tits. Tits which, due to their sagging nature, drooped just low enough so that she coud...

“Ow, ow stop that you stupid cunt, you fucking bitch, you fucking bitch you stop that!”

The dog woman punched into them, able to smack them with her fists, watching as they shuddered and bounced back like punching bags, like they were perfectly designed to...

“Ow, ow, oough, please stop, stop bitch, ow...”

“Hi honey I'm home!” The man Bambi had talked to at the doctor's office slammed the door announcing his arrival.

He stepped into the kitchen to see his beautiful wife greeting their guest.

“Hi Bambi,” he said. She looked up at him, suddenly fearful. He stepped up to her and slapped the side of her face. “I said hi Bambi.” She didn't know what to say, this was the same guy from the other day.

“I, I,” she started. The bitch on the floor was still punishing her tits, berating them, punching them and smacking them. Robbey was still fucking her hole and was now sliding out so he could try out her backdoor just, now...

“Oh fuck!” She said, screaming again.

“That's no way to greet your father,” he said, unzipping his pants and freeing his enormous cock to the room. The bitch on the floor stopped her activity and bowed her head low in reverence, knowing her place.

He stepped closer up to Bambi and slapped the side of her face with his cock. He could see she wanted to cry. “Now say hello to me you stupid cow.”

“I, I,” she started to tear up. “Please, please just let me...”

He shoved himself rudely into her mouth, the bitch slammed into her teats, punching them hard, following her husband's lead, and Robbey fucked her ass, slamming in, jackhammering her from behind.

The foam shook, slightly, absorbing the shock, and her teats wobbled, her neck shook a bit in response to its new guest. Her cheek bulged as he gripped the back of her head and forcefully face fucked her for the first time.

“I paid you twenty bucks and I intend to get my money's worth,” he said. Bambi cried into his crotch, feeling the monster fill her mouth, choking, gagging, as he slammed into her.

“Augh,” she said, as he pulled out and let her drip spit out of her mouth. It fell onto his wife below. He slammed into her again.

“What a fucking cow,” he said, slapping the side of her face as he rammed her throat. Then, to his wife (on the floor) “She looks nice here honey doesn't she, a perfect fit.”

His wife nodded, obediently, not wishing to voice her concerns, her desires, not wanting him to know how much she wanted out of their relationship. She still had a chance, maybe, if he liked this new girl enough, that he would take her instead.

“Punch her some more honey, I like it when you do that.”

She nodded and then layed into the hanging girl on the wall. Bambi cried, her enormous tits getting punished viciously by the mongrel bitch on the floor.

“Do you like it when she punches you, do you?” He asked, pulling out for a second so that she could respond, pitifully, and with a cock half in her mouth:

“Woah,” which translated to 'No.'

“Well that's too bad, only one of you can be free in this house and since you're the new girl you get the beatings.”

He activated his wife's collar, freeing her, so that she could make dinner. He pulled out and then slid over to his wife, kissing her and sliding his still hard cock up her negligee, which ended just above her waist, and entering her bare vagina.

He held her against the island and fucked her, reaching around to grip her breasts, feeling their natural fullness, augmented only be herbs and some 'vitamins.'

He reached to the side in a practiced motion and grabbed a mug, slid it onto the island in front of him, pulled his wife back by sliding his right arm under her neck, and then squeezed, in a fluid, milking motion, until she lactated into his drink.

“That's a girl,” he said, sliding out of her and moving around, “nothing slakes the thirst more after a busy day.” He inclined his head, feeding her her queue, raising his eyebrow expectantly.

She swallowed, not liking to do this, twiddling her fingers, and then, gulping, leaned her head forward slightly in return and then lowing, in a moan, “Mooooo-oooo.”

“That's my girl”, he said, slapping her bum, clasping it and gripping it firmly in his hand.

She hadn't had her face augmented, or her teats, well, not with silicone anyway, but the one area he had paid special attention to was her ass. When she walked it jutted out, it embarrassed her to no end because she had no control over it and she couldn't see it.

It made her very self-conscious, this Brazilian butt lift, and she was constantly tugging on her skimpy dresses and negligees to cover her ass. It didn't help though, her ass jutted out so much that as soon as she too much more than a step it slid up again, to settle above her waist on the shelf her ass cheeks made.

When she stopped moving, and stood still, she adopted the pose a baby has, one where she spreads her legs, leans forward a bit, arms up like a begging dog, ass sticking out lewdly behind her. She couldn't help it, her husband had trained her (with treats) over several months to do so without thinking.

Now, smacked on her ass and told to make dinner, she scurried over to the counter top and stood, legs spread, leaning forward, ass on full display.

He turned, looking at Bambi, wondering why she was suddenly silent, and then smiled. He could see that she was starting to like Robbey playing with her. Where before she had been vehemently opposed to their union she was now, eyes half closed, mouth open, and drooling, moaning softly, appreciatively, of his attentions.

“That's it champ,” he said, under his breath, encouraging his son, “go get her.”

He walked up to her and idly kicked her teats, remembering the surgery when she had had her flesh sacks opened and the smaller orbs removed. “3000cc,” he said, evenly.

She didn't respond she was so caught up in her reverie. She felt his presence before her though as he approached, and flinched reflexively.

“3000cc,” he said again, louder, and she looked up at him, her face rocking slightly even with the foam. “They must be really going at it,” he mused. “That's what you were before,” he said, aloud.

“3000cc was what the doctor took out of you.” He opened up his briefcase and showed the lumps inside to the befuddled blonde. “These are the same ones he took out, as you can see they are 3000cc and weight about seven pounds each. Technical specs put them at a lifetime of about thirty or so odd years but you only used them for three.”

He relaxed, flippign over a chart, “You got them put in so you could get better tips stripping, and, a year ago, you graduated to films and made it big in the underground porn scene. You couldn't make it big because of your attitude.” Bambi scowled. “You gave too much lip,” he said, pausing for a moment to study hers.

She sneered at him, and then flinched as he held his hand up, he was only taking his reading glasses from his pocket. “Robbey saw one of your films and wanted you so here you are, but only because you went in for a reduction. A reduction your producer 'reccommended' thanks in part to my funding his next series of films. You can thank him for your current employment, I did.” He smiled. “Yes, that's right, he didn't like your attitude either, in fact his next series, the ones I'm funding, are going to be private release films.”

He smiled again, grinning wider, and then took a picture out of his pocket. “I went to the kennel today and picked out your costars.” Bambi's eyes widened in fright. “You see this one here, that's a Great Dane, we're going to bill him first, and the others will come after, your name, I'm afraid, will be last.” He smiled, watching her plead with her eyes. She was on the verge of breaking down, he could tell, and wasn't sure if she'd beg or yell at him. He wanted her to yell.

“I'll tell you what though, if you can convince my wife here to take your place then I'll let you go.” He knew that sounded insincere so he continued, “If she agrees to do the film you can be my wife and she can go in the wall.” That sounded more grantable so he knew she'd go for it.

His wife, meanwhile, had heard what he had said, and, while not believing that he would so such a thing, had taken just about enough abuse from her husband, this was the last straw. It was bad enough that he had gotten her hopes up with this package and made a fool out of her, if he was going to use her in some sort of sordid film then she wasn't going to... He was looking at her.

“Honey, come here, come here honey, I know, I know honey come here. Don't worry, all you have to do is say no and you won't have to do it. Come here honey.” Her anger faded, she was placated for the moment. He held his hand out to her and she reached for it, to clasp it, to feel his... He activated the collar.

She dropped to all fours, panting, he still held his hand out, she frowned now wanting to, and he held it up, as though going to smack her, then put it back where it had been and she acquiesced. She leaned forward and licked, licked his palm and then lapped at it.

“There there that's a girl,” he said, moving his hand to tousle her hair and pet her. “Okay, now, Bambi here wants you to do the film for her, what do you think, do you want to go up on the wall and be the new bitch?” She shook her head no she didn't want that.

“Tell you what girls,” he said, stepping back, “why don't the two of you fight for it, first one to give in has to do the film.” Bambi looked confused.

He reached down and bound his wife's hands behind her back. He scooted her forward, putting his hand to the small of her back, rubbing his hand lovingly down her delightful derrière, petting her.

“Its a tit fight girls, tit vs. tit, you swing them from side to side and whoever can't take the bruising gives in and loses the fight. Its a submission fight. Now its a fairly even fight because Bambi is immobile but possesses greater attributes.” He nodded at the gigantic pears.

“Wifey here has tiny tits, but greater mobility, still, I think its obvious that size matters.” His wife looked up at him, despondent. “But its okay, I have an offer to help things out for you, since you are my wife and I love you.”

She doubted that but she was all ears. He held the briefcase out to her, opening it up to show her its contents, the 3000cc implants recently taken from Bambi. “Do this and you will have a chance.” She shook her head no.

“Fine then, your flatchests versus her gigantic 6000cc whopping wonders of whoopass. Fight it out!”

He chopped down with his hand, motioning for the fight to start, and he prowled around behind the contestants, making sure his wife didn't move out of the 'ring.' She didn't want to move forward though.

Bambi was waiting for her, was gathering motion. She was stuck, in the foam, but her hanging knockers had so much weight to them, and were completely free, that she was able to start to build up momentum.

They swung, like a pendulum, waiting to lay the smack down on the poor wife when she approached, eager for revenge.

“I'll do it,” she said, suddenly grabbing for her husband's legs. “Pu-put them in me, puh-puh-lease, just don't make me fight them!”

“That's my girl,” he said, petting her head. Bambi seemed crestfallen, and moaned openly when he fluttered the pictures of the dogs down before her again, reminding her of what was to come.

“You fucking bitch, you come here and fight me this instant,” she yelled, “You fucking cow bitch piece of shit pussy why I ought to come over there and, and, well come here and fight me you pussy shit bitch cunt!”

Her owner smiled, pleased that things had worked out so well. By the end of the day his wife would have a proud pair of scars and be moving up in the world. By the end of the day she'd jut from both top and back. By the end of the day the implants in his briefcase, the same ones that had been in Bambi just days before, would be proudly peaking out from the insides of his wife's perky breasts. He'd see to it that she got to watch, and would explain everything in detail as he performed it.

“Oh no honey,” he say, making the incision and then sliding the gloop into her chest. “I'm not a doctor, but I have seen it done.” He'd smile and she'd faint, but that's what smelling salts are for.

But for now he left her alone, he still had to say hello to his son, who wanted to thank him for his great new gift.

“Hey,” he said, leaving the two women to deal with each other in the kitchen, “how's it going back here?!”

Robbey was in heaven, he couldn't have been any happier. He had his large screen TV, his video games, his own refrigerator, and his own wall of woman!

“Daddy!” He said, smiling and running over to hug his old man.

“Hey Robbey, do you like?” He asked, pointing over to Bambi's lewd holes.

“Oh yes daddy Robbey like alot!” He was practically slobbering with enthusiasm.

“I'm going to get some dogs for the house, would you like that?”

“Yeah Daddy doggies are nice, they like Robbey?”

“Sure they'll like you, but you'll have to share, can you do that?”

Robbey nodded, looking over at his holes, “Yeah Doggies can have too, Robbey share, Robbey like Doggies.”

“Good,” his father said, “then wash up now, your mom is making dinner.”

He went back into the kitchen to see his wife had taken the butcher's knife and was in the process of preparing to cut Bambi's tits off.

“No!” He shouted, and pushed the emergency button. Her collar shocked her, causing her to drop the knife and cringe in agony.

“Bad, bad girl,” he said, walking up and kicking her in the side. “Bad, bad!” He took off his belt and stroked her, making sure it landed hard on her plump backside. He wiped his brow.

“You're not allowed to do that, that's my property.”

“But honey,” she said, taking breaths, “I was just trying to make you a nice dinner.” She cringed again, the pain still hurting.

He smiled, “Maybe some other time honey, but not now, we want to milk this cow a bit more first. Besides, that's cheating, now look, there's every reason to be jealous, Bambi is a better woman than you, she's, well, she's larger than you, and, that means she's more woman than you, but you are still... A good bitch. You have a nice ass, and you give good head.”

His wife looked up at him, not wanting to piss him off any more, knowing she had done bad, so she batted her eyes and said “Aw really, do you mean it?”

“Yes honey, you have a nice ass and soon you'll have nice tits.”

She pouted, “But I don't want no hand-me-downs.”

He thought about it for a second, “I got you that butt job last year, don't try to bankrupt me now, you have to wait till our Anniversary if you want another present.”

“But, but...”

“You mean 'breasts, breasts' dont you?” He laughed. “No means no honey, aw don't give me those eyes, you're getting Bambi's leftovers and that's final.”

Bambi had caught her breathe, she was hoarse from screaming bloody murder earlier. “What the fuck, didn't you hear me screaming?!” She said, in a loud whisper, as much as she could manage, her voice was so shot.

“Bambi, no talking right now, Daddy's in the middle of important negotiations.”

“What, she could have killed me, that shit wife of yours almost killed me and...”

“I said shut up Bambi, or do I need to teach you a lesson?”

Bambi muttered an eep and then quieted.

“Now honey, as I was saying, you get Bambi's hand me downs for now, but if you prove yourself then maybe we can upgrade you.”

“But... I thought you loved me?”

“I do honey, just not as much as Bambi. Bambi's much more of a woman than you.”

She started to cry, he couldn't tell if she was just trying to bargain or if she was sincere. “Now listen, you and Bambi can fight about it, no I don't mean a titfight, we both know you'd lose, I mean a fight for my affections. Whichever one of you can please me more, say, in a month, then you get to be my favorite and will get the bigger tits.”

His wife looked up at him, surprised, she hadn't actually wanted larger tits, she was simply trying to parlay whatever edge she could into an advantage. In fact she didn't want any tits, she wanted to get out of here, but so long as he held that remote...

She had thought maybe she could get him to tell her how much he loved her so that she could show that whore up, that whore with the huge knockers... Who had come into her house and moved in on her territory.

It didn't matter that she hated her husband, he was still hers and she'd be damned if some floozy, some bimbo named Bambi was going to take him away from her. She could sort out her issues with him after she had gotten rid of that tramp.

And she almost had too, but now, it seemed, those tits, those enormous, gargantuan magnets of male attraction, had showed her up once again. She had tried to cut them out just now because she hated the woman, hated how artificial she was, and how she got everything she wanted. Look at how nice he was to her after all, sure he had hit her, but the way he looked at her, the way he practically fawned over her, why, it was enough to...

He shook her out of her thoughts. “Honey, I've been telling you to finish dinner, did you hear me?”

She blinked, and then looked at him, and then swallowed, and said, “Um, sorry honey, I'm a little scatterbrained you know,” and giggled. He nodded, dismissing it as 'woman's worry,' and left her alone.

“I almost had to put a black star up on the chart.” She didn't know what he was talking about.

He motioned to a chart up on the wall, like the kind used in kindergarten. There was her name, and next to it was a bunch of empty squares.

Beneath her name was Bambi, and she had a commanding lead. She squinted, “Cleavage,” the chart said, and it counted out, 200cc, 500cc, 1000cc, 1500cc, 2000cc, 2500cc, 3000cc, 3500cc, 4000cc, 4500cc, 5000cc, 5500cc, 6000cc. And also gave points for bra size in addition (which hardly seemed fair, it was like, it was like breast size counted twice!)

B, C, D, DD, EE, FF, GG.

Bambi's stars were filled in for 6000cc (12 points!) and GG (7 more points!) The stars only counted up 20 points, that meant Bambi was only 1 point away from winning for the month! That was no fair!

She squinted again, what were the other categories, “Saying prayers” was one, she could earn about four points there if she did it right, and she knew Bambi couldn't move so she wouldn't be able to win there. She'd kneel, in front of her husband, clasp her hands together, address his crotch, and earnestly and fervently, as sincerely as she could, thank him and his manhood, in fact all men, for their contributions to society over the years and for their leadership and tending of womankind.

Then she'd ask him for his forgiveness for her sins and rattle off her impurities (listing, of course, being a woman as one of them) and then supplicate him for her communion. It would be extremely humiliating but she could swallow it.

“Doing exercises,” she could earn about five points there, she saw. That would mean going into a squat and crabwalking about the house, she could work that in with “Doing chores,” so that she could squat and move over to the kitchen and load the dishwasher, then crabwalk some more over to the den and pick up the mess Robbey had made that day (hopefully avoiding his attempts at interaction.)

Of course Robbey tended to leave his toys lying about so she'd have to pick them up for him, and if she wanted to earn full points she'd have to do that part without her hands so that meant training her vulvatic muscles. She shuddered at the thought of picking up Robbey's trash with her cunt, but she'd have to do it to prove herself.

So that would put her at about halfway to where Bambi was now. Oh she'd just have to work hard...

“Open,” her husband said, she opened her mouth and let him dust his hands off into it. He had gotten crumbs on them while snacking on chips. “Okay, time for 'Open Chest' surgery,” he laughed, snapping his fingers and walking off to the bathroom.

She grimaced, hoping he'd at least sanitize her chest, maybe swab it with iodine, and perhaps give her some Tylenol or something to help with the pain.

He swabbed her chest, but with bengay, so that, a few moments later, it started to tingle, “To take your mind off it,” he said, and then added, “off of the very sharp knife I'm about to cut your chest open with.” He made sure she got a good look at it. She fainted.

He decided it would be easier to just keep the smelling salts going, they'd keep her more alert, more alive during the whole thing too, so he just strapped them on under her nose.

He made the first cut, “Ow, oh fuck that hurts, mmmm,” she cringed, “Ahhhhhh,” it was pulling, tearing. “Stop, stop, stop stop stop stop stop stop stop,” she said, like she had just taken a sip of very hot soup.

“Ow, oh god, mmmmhhhh,” he smiled and pulled at her mammary.

“Peek-a-boo, what have we got here?” He asked. Being in the bathroom made him remember how much he had to pee.

He tried to hold it but got an idea. His hands were a bit of a mess though, and hers were bound, so... He just sort of wiggled out of his pants, he had to sort of rub them up against his wife's stomach, but he got them down.

“Ow, what are you doing, what are you, no, no, not here, not now, ow, oh fuck that hurts, ow,” he got his pants off and whipped his dick out, spraying a stream of urine directly into her open flesh sack.

“Its okay honey, urine is sterile, in fact the acid will probably help disinfect.” He acted like he was doing her a favor. The stream continued and filled her pocket up. “How about if I just close it up now, huh?” He asked, chuckling.

“No!” She replied, cringing, she tried to hop about a bit on her butt to avoid the stream, but he just adjusted his angle of attack.

“Wooooh,” he said, waving it around, he hit her face with it and caused her to sputter mid protest. “Okay, back to work,” he said, and promptly shoved the grey used silicon blob into her chest. She sucked in air, it stung so bad.

“And a whistle while you work,” he said, and began whistling, stitching up the gaping cavity. He had to hold it tight for a second, she was struggling and her face had gone ashen. She was going into shock, he decided.

He kept working, stopping the flow of blood and sewing it all up so that it was nice and patched again. The entirely of her chest was back in one piece, with a nice beautiful line of stitches leading zig-zag up like a mountain climber. He got out the cauterizing torch and stopped the last of the bleeding by applying intense heat to the area, burning her.

“Just think honey,” he said, and she was now quite cold, and her teeth were chattering, “if you win, you get the ones Bambi has now and we get to do this all over again, only with larger boobies! Wouldn't you like that?”

Despite her chattering teeth and how dark everything was she could still hear him, and she nodded, telling him how much she appreciated his work. She didn't want that bitch to win.

Her anger returned, she fumed, she was doing this, going through all of this, because of her because of that cow Bambi.

It was her fault she was being mutilated. Her zeal returned, she started to feel flush again, the blood pumped faster in her veins, adrenaline kicked in.

She returned to life, staggering to her feet, slowly, slowly, and then her husband pushed her back down, rudely.

“We're not done yet silly, that was just the left one.” She groaned. “Okay now hold still, the faster we get this done the faster we can get you out of the bathroom and I can take a dump.”

She groaned again. “Fine, but the longer it takes the more likely I am to need to go to the bathroom while you're still open.” She shivered at the thought and looked up at him, trying to see if he was kidding.

“I'm not getting colon cancer because you're a little squeamish honey,” he said, holding the scalpel in one hand and giving her a hard look.

She nodded her head, giving him permission to continue. “Okay, now hold still and, there, there we go, a nice bright line to follow as we, pull...”

“Rrrrrrrr,” she growled, blanching and trying to steel herself against the pain.

“And we have entry, entry into womanhood, and there we go honey, you're gorgeous inside, yes you are.”

Despite the pain and the circumstances of the comment she still smiled slightly at his compliment.

“Now let's just liven the place up some, do some remodeling, put in some new furniture, make the place a little more 'happenin' am I right?” He shoved the grey mass of dumb silicon into her chest sack and made sure it went all in.

“Its a little tight but let's just, mmmmhh,” he grunted and she shrieked.

“Good, good, stay awake, that's it, don't want you fainting on us again.” She seemed ready to do so.

“Fine, fall asleep, just give up on me, but I can't hold it in much longer, I've got to go sometime...” She jerked herself awake and braced herself as he started to sew her up again.

“Oh god, oh god,” she was saying, panting.

“Honey what did I tell you about worshiping false idols?”

She searched her mind, it was all going blank, and then she saw it, she grasped onto it, “Oh cock, oh cock,” she said, there it was, appearing before the darkness, bringing light, bringing hope...

“Oh cock, oh cock,” he said, feeling herself wrap up into a fetal position mentally, clinging, reaching out to grasp it, “oh cock, oh cock,” she said, wrapping herself all the way around it, putting her lips up to its font, suckling from it like a baby at the teat...

He had finished sewing her up, she was recovering now, and she needed him, he knew. He had taken his manhood and placed it by her face, letting her feel it warmth, and now, when she needed him most, she had opened her mouth instinctively and was taking succor from him. She was suckling, nursing like a baby, and he cradled her head in his hands and rubbed and petted her softly.

“There there its okay,” he coddled her, “Daddy's here and he loves you,” he smiled. He really did love her, well, more than he did before. “Daddy loves you three thousand times over honey,” he said, smiling again. “Who's my precious, who's my gorgeous 3000cc's baby, huh? Who is she?”

She smiled and blew a spit bubble around his cockhead, going back to nursing a moment later.

Later in the day she would remember only little of this time, being so out of it at the moment, but would feel a sense of spiritual purpose that hadn't been there before, and a renewed faith in her husband and desire to please him.

She would beat Bambi yet.