The Weather Girl Ch. 01byFortunata©
Dana Doubek was nervous. Mr. Maletta, the station manager, had sent for her and she was terrified. This was her forth TV station, as the weather girl, and she knew that her ratings weren't so good. He had already given her a warning that she had to do something to bring in an audience, or he'd let her go. She prayed that this wasn't a good-bye meeting.
As she walked down the long hall to his office, her enormous breasts bounced up and down, in spite of the metal braced brassiere that she always wore to hold them as steady as possible. It was an impossible task for the well designed undergarment. Her 44 magnums, as her ex-husband use to call the EE cup monsters, were beyond reasonable containment. She knew that she should be proud to be so well endowed; but being so shy, she had always done everything she could to hide them. She wore loose fitting blouses and covered them with over sized business jackets. Unfortunately, those made her look rather fat, which she was not. And that was bad for anyone in television broadcasting who was in front of the camera.
After being hired, she had avoided running into Mr. Maletta any way she could. She felt that if he didn't see her, he wouldn't think about her; and if he didn't think about her then he wouldn't fire her. Of course he saw most of her weather reports on a monitor, but it didn't put her face to face with him. When their paths did cross, his eyes always went to her large breasts and when he spoke to her, he seemed to be talking to her boobs, not her. He made her feel sleazy, as he undressed her with his eyes. She knew she wasn't sleazy, but he was; so she had to bear the leering gazes that she got from him.
Dana was truly desperate to keep this job. This was her last shot at making a decent living, in television. It wasn't a lot of money, but it was more than she could make as secretary or something like that. And Dana couldn't type very well anyway, so even that option wasn't really available to her. If she lost this job, she was in deep trouble.
Who am I kidding, she thought, I'm already in big trouble. I'm behind on the mortgage, my car payment, the electric bill and worst of all; my sweet little Betsy needs an operation. She had to be with the station for four months, before the company insurance kicked in and because it was a pre-existing condition, they weren't going to cover her daughter anyway.
She stopped her trek to the boss's office, to dab at the tears forming in her eyes and regain her composure. As she made a quick check of her appearance, she realized that she would once again be the object of Mr. Maletta's lewd glares at her chest. It was with a blush and considerable shame that she undid the top three buttons of her blouse, in order to expose a bit of cleavage. She had never done anything like this before, but she'd do it for Betsy. If letting him get an eyeful of her bosoms would save her job then she'd give the sleazy bastard a look.
She went up to his office door and rapped on it lightly. In his gravelly voice, he loudly said, "Come in."
She had only been here once before, on the day he had hired her. It was a large office. Much bigger than was called for, considering the size of the station and it's relatively small budget. But it fit his inflated ego perfectly. The furniture was big and soft, more like a living room than a business office. There was an enormous desk for him and in front of it were two short chairs facing him, which caused the visitors to look up at him. There were photos on the wall of him with various small time celebrities and over the sofa was a huge painting of an old actress, Jane Russell. It was a copy of a movie poster, for the western that had introduced her to the big screen. She was dressed as a cowgirl and holding a gun. Unlike the real poster, she had her blouse fully open and her inflated naked breasts were bared to the viewer. Dana thought that it was more than bad taste; it was simply vulgar and insulting to any woman who entered this room.
Like everyone else at the station, Dana knew that he would have occasional visits from call girls here; and he didn't try to hide it. Mr. Maletta wasn't married, so at least he wasn't being unfaithful to a wife. He was quite loud as he had his way with the working women and the other employees stayed far away from him, when these ladies came to service him. She had heard that the best time to ask for a raise was right he after he got laid. He was always in a good mood then.
Apparently he wasn't in a good mood now. He looked up, as she entered and ordered her to, "Get your dumb ass over here," pointing to the floor in front of his desk. She walked over and took a seat in one of the ridiculous chairs.
"Stand up bitch; I didn't tell you to sit. You ain't going to be here that long." At his gruff command, she shot back up out of the chair, as he went on talking. "You're fired. Now get out."
She had been on an emotional edge for months, even before she got this job. Now his short announcement had been the straw that broke the camels back. She was broken. It had been her last hope of catching up on her bills...this crappy job at this small town TV station.
Dana began sobbing and begging, "Please don't do this to me, Mr. Maletta. I really need this job. I'll do better I promise I will."
When he looked at her, he noticed for the first time, the ample flesh of her bulging breasts, as she cried. He loved the way they jiggled with each deep sobbing breath. He leered at her soft boobs for a few more moments, and then said, "You really are a stupid bitch; do you know that? I been telling you for two months to give the public a better view of yourself and you haven't done a thing. I thought that you would be smart enough to pick up on my suggestions; but noooo, not you, little miss prim and proper.
"Now you come in here and finally I see your tits poking out at me. You had a feeling that I was going to dump you, didn't you?" He glared at her, as he waited for her to answer him.
She didn't know how to respond. She was terrified at the idea of losing her job and was ashamed at having been caught exposing herself in hopes of saving her position. She realized that he was still waiting for an answer. She dropped her head, looking down at the floor, as she confessed, "I was afraid of losing my job."
He bellowed, "That's not what I asked you. Did you deliberately show me some tit meat to keep your job?"
The crude way in which he had phrased it embarrassed her further and made emphatic what answer he expected from her.
She had to say something and the truth was the first thing she could think of. "Yes I did."
His gravelly voice was a bit softer, as he pursued the topic. "Why did you do it Dana? And why haven't you done before."
She started crying again. She was being fired and all was lost now. She had no hope. She admitted, "I did it to save my job. I'm about to lose my house and my car. My electricity is about to be turned off and my little girl will die, if I can't get her the surgery she needs. I haven't done anything like this before, because I feel like a...a...Whore."
He shook his head, as he told her, "You poor, stupid bitch. Everybody in front of the camera is a whore. They're selling their bodies and faces to the people who watch them." He went on rhetorically, "Do you think that the public would watch the news, if it was the elephant man doing it? How many fat fucks do you see in front of the camera? And how about skinny bitches; do you ever see any of those broads doing the weather? Do you know that Telemundo has one of the highest ratings for the weather portion of the news of any cable show on TV? And do know why? I'll tell you why. It's because their girls have big, fat tits and they really show them off. People and that includes a lot of women, like watching young, attractive people on the tube."
Dana was listening to his words, but her sobs told him that she was out of it. He raised his voice again and gruffly told her, "I tried to say it nicely, but you're too damned dumb to really pay attention. You should have been wearing tighter clothes, showing some cleavage, like you are now and shaking those fat knockers."
He noticed her blushing at his suggestion and decided to really shake her up. "Stand up straight bitch. Slip off your jacket."
Dana wasn't thinking, as she slowly removed her jacket and stood before him. She was so distraught that she couldn't maintain a coherent thought for more than a few seconds. Her mind was going into panic mode, over losing her job. As a result, all she could do was what she was told.
"Now stick your tits out." She arched her back, thrusting out her huge breasts and causing her cleavage to squish out through the top of her blouse. "That's more like it. Now undo all the rest of those buttons. Show me what you've been hiding."
She undid two more buttons, but then realized what she was doing. She shyly said, "I can't do this, Mr. Maletta. I just can't. I feel so cheap."
He shot back at her, "Cheap? You feel like a whore, don't you?"
She nodded, but made no effort to close up her blouse.
He grinned and told her, "Well you are a whore. We all are. If you're willing to be a whore then I can help you. If not, I won't lift a finger. You can lose your house and car and watch you daughter die, because you are just too damned noble to save her life. You are nothing more than a selfish cunt." He stood and angrily pointed at the door shouting, "Get out."
Dana stood there, as though frozen in place. Perhaps if she didn't move, time would stand still and nothing bad would happen.
Bobby Maletta could see that Dana was stuck, not wanting to face her problems any longer and not knowing what to do if she did. He had never fucked the hired help. Hell, he didn't have to. He could call on any number of fabulous babes to satisfy his special needs. He could certainly afford it. But there was something about this big boobed cunt that made his cock jump every time he saw those big tits sway.
He wanted her and he wanted her the way he always wanted his women, on her knees and begging to please him. He had always paid for sluts to do that. It was expensive, but he didn't lack for money. Yet this bitch really got his motor running. So if he could get her to see her way clear of one problem, with his help; then maybe he could train her to be his submissive whore. He didn't know if she'd go for it, but he'd give it a shot. Either way, he'd have fun just fucking with her head.
While these thoughts ran through Bobby's mind, Dana's brain was in limbo. He crudely asked her, "Well you haven't left the room. Does that mean that you're willing to be a good whore?"
She shuddered at the crude way he had put the question her. She knew that she had to do something to try and save her daughter. With great reluctance, she answered, "Yes sir."
He demanded, "You'll have to do better than that bitch. Tell me that you're going to be a whore for me."
It struck her that he didn't just mean to show more before the camera. He was flat out telling her that she must be HIS whore. He would use her sexually. That's what her life had come to. However, if this is what it took to save her little Betsy then she would do it.
Her tears started again, as she responded, "I'll be your whore. I'll dress sexier on TV and I'll do what ever you want."
He was leering at her now, with an evil grin. "I expect you to be very specific bitch. Tell me in no uncertain terms, exactly what you will do to please me."
She knew that people thought she was a stupid, big titted bimbo, but she wasn't. She understood what was going on here and that she had no real choice in the matter. He wasn't blackmailing her. He wasn't going to rape her. If she wanted his help, she was going to have to sell her body to him like a prostitute. Dana Doubek would be a whore for this man. She never, in her wildest dreams would have thought she could have fallen to this point. But it would save her daughter; so a whore she must be.
She undid the last buttons on her blouse and removed the garment, tossing it on the chair. Then she resolutely said, "Yes of course. I'm your whore now. You can use me whenever you wish. You can fondle my breasts and my rear end. I'll give you oral sex and you can have sex with me. But you must make good on your promise to help my daughter."
Something in him responded with anger, when she suggested that he might renege on his offer to save her daughter. "Hey, you fucking cunt. Bobby Maletta ain't never gone back on his word. You just better remember one thing. You ever don't do exactly like I say, I'll fucking ruin you. So I'm gonna be real clear about it. I like my sex dirty and nasty, and I like to get rough with my bitches. So if I cause you some pain that's tough shit, just take it, or the deal's off." He raised his eyebrows and asked, "You agree or not? Tell me you're good with me being rough with you."
She was shocked at his revelation and his demand. She told him, "I don't like pain. I don't find the thought of it enjoyable at all. I'll do all of those other things, but please don't hurt me."
He came around the desk and put his face close to hers. "Let me put it this way. I don't give a flying fuck what turns YOU on. If you're going to be my whore, you need to turn ME on. You need my help, I don't need yours. I got cunts that let me use them any time and any way I want. You ain't doing me no favor. Now you get out; or get on you knees, right here in front of me. Take off the bra and show me your tits. Lift them up to me and beg me to use you. And you better make it sound real nasty and dirty."
Her mind was rattled, so she found it easier to do as she was told than to try and reason with him; although that probably wouldn't have worked anyway. Dana went to her knees, reached around her back and began undoing the seven hooks on her large white brassiere. When the last hook was released, the weight of her gigantic mounds dropped down from her upper chest, drawing the bra down her arms and onto the floor.
She was so humiliated that she couldn't look at him. At the sight of her huge breasts he blurted out, "Jesus fucking Christ, what a set of knockers you got, bitch." He reached down and filled both hands with warm heavy female flesh, squishing the meat of them through his fingers. "Damn these things are heavy. I fucking love it."
He let go of them and told her, "OK bitch, lift them up for me and tell me all of the nasty things you're going to do for me."
Dana was twenty seven years old and she wasn't ignorant; although she was very self-conscious about her body which made her seem naively shy. She was well aware of the type of language that he was seeking from her. Vulgarity didn't come easily to her, yet she knew that she would have to give him what he demanded, in order to get his help for her daughter.
She placed her hands beneath her huge breasts and lifted them up to him. Then, in a bland, monotone voice she said, "You can fondle my tits when ever you wish. I'll suck your cock and fuck you, as long as you help me out financially."
Much to her shock, he slapped her hard and angrily told her, "So you're trying to set terms for me, eh cunt. I told you I'd fix your problems. All you gotta do is be a good whore for me and do everything I tell ya. Don't push your fucking luck. I'm about to save your ass; so show some fucking gratitude. "
He backed off from her, turned away and said to himself, "I must be outa my fuckin' mind. This goofy bitch ain't got enough sense to come in outa da rain." He was notorious for reverting to his Jersey roots through his accent, when he was upset. He talked like some street kid who was puffing out his chest, while he was in the middle of a pissing contest with a rival.
He turned on her and told her, "Get the fuck outs here, cunt; and take those fucking tits with ya. I hope you enjoy watchin' your kid kick the can."
In a sudden realization of her failure to please him and out of fear that she had lost her last hope for Betsy, she threw herself at his feet, wrapping her arms around his ankles and pleading, "Oh please Mr. Maletta, I'm so sorry. I'll be a good whore for you. It just comes hard for me, because I'm not like that; but I can be. Please give me another chance. You like my big tits and I want you to enjoy them. Wouldn't you like to have me suck you cock, while you feel me up. And I know you'll like fucking my pussy. I'll get on my hands and knees, so you can fuck me like a dog. Please Mr. Maletta; let me be a whore for you."
Bobby was impressed by her quick turn around. He had wanted to get his hands on her for some time now and that fact made his decision easy. Looking back at her he told her, "Ok Bitch, let me just see if you're ready to please me. Give me you face. I'm going to work you over from top bottom. If you don't make it good for me, then you're history around here."
Dana looked up at him, not wanting to believe what he had in mind, yet fearing that she did. She raised her face in offering and he slapped her, sending short, stinging blows to her cheeks. She did the best that she could to withstand the cruel onslaught of his attack and to not defend herself. With each heartless strike, she cried out a little and he laughed. After a dozen harsh slaps, he told her, "Alright cunt, it's time to get down to the fun part. Get up on your knees and offer me those fat tits. I want to see how well you do when I'm working them over."
She dreaded the next phase and knew that he would not be gentle. He was testing her now, to be sure that she was going to behave. I suffer for Betsy, she thought to herself. Once on her knees, Dana arched her back, lifted a huge boob in each hand and said, "Go ahead and hurt me, Mr. Maletta. Hit my tits."
The evil grin on his face was as terrifying as the pain itself. He smacked her right breast much harder than she had expected. She fell forward, as the pain shot through the flesh of her chest; yet she found the courage to rise up and lift her other large breast for his next assault. He blasted it, as hard as he had the other. She could not withhold a sharp yelp of pain, as he drove his hand into her mammary gland deep within the meat of her aching breast. The damage to her huge bosom traveled to her stomach, causing nausea and making her feel as though she would vomit.
Fortunately, the feeling was temporary and she was able to recover somewhat. She assumed the position again, lifting her heavy orbs for his twisted pleasure and their destruction. His slapping continued, albeit with thankfully reduced vehemence. Her pain was tolerable by then, partially due to her bosoms becoming rather numb to the stinging blows, which he applied.
Bobby's joy was a sickening thing to see in itself. His breathing had become loud and deep, as slobber leaked down his chin. She feared that he had crossed over to some sort of schizophrenic beast that would tear her breasts off and eat them.
She was grateful, when he paused to stare down at her. Then he started anew, focusing his attention on her nipples. Dana had never thought of them as very sensitive, but he changed her opinion, when he captured one in each hand and twisted them cruelly, until she cried out, begging for mercy. "Please Mr. Maletta, it's too much. I can't stand it."
He gave them an extra pull and twist saying, "Shut the fuck up, cunt. It's no good if it's vanilla. I want to hear all the flavors of your pain." And then he dug his thumb nails into the delicate flesh of her nipples, drawing a horrific scream from her, as he laughed like some deranged psychotic.
Bobby was in the zone, as he called it. He had a woman whom he had lusted for awhile and now she was here, at his feet and giving herself to him; although somewhat reluctantly. That actually made it sweeter. Damn, he thought, her tits are bigger outside of her bra than inside. If this broad would just come around, she was going to be a lot of fun for long time to come.