Hunted at Hooters

The five of them walked to the centre of the alleyway, where the least amount of light reached down between the tall buildings. It smelt strongly here of garbage, urine and cigarette smoke. Sarah hugged her arms against the chill.

"Gerard, come and stand right here." The judge pulled the boy into position in front of him, so that he was facing where Sarah stood nervously, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. "Are you ready, son?" He asks and Gerard nodded, enthusiastically.

"Yes dad."

"OK Sarah. I want you to slowly lift up your shirt." He instructed her.

Slow was all that Sarah could manage anyway, with her hands shaking badly from her unspent fight-or-flight response. Swallowing hard, she hooked her fingers beneath the fabric of the white Hooter's tank, took a deep breath, and gradually lifted, exposing her navel, flat and tanned by the local Texan sun. Her waist tapered in from the wideness of her hips, a perfect hourglass shape, seamless and delicate as though formed from sand. Then, a flash of hot pink at the base of her rib cage where the bottom of her heavy breasts rested.

"Stop." The judge told her and she froze, afraid. "Are you sure you're ready for this Gerard? It's okay if you say no."

"God, dad! What are you d-doing? I'm ready, d-damn it!" The boy complained, insolently.

"Tell me what you're looking at right now, so that I know that you understand." He requested. Sarah waited, a statue, whilst they had this discussion.

"I'm looking at a s-slut, dad. And I'd be looking at her t-titties if you didn't keep on t-talking, all the time!"

"Gerard," the judge spoke in a tone you might use to chastise a dog. "Sarah is not a slut. She is doing this for money. So what does that make her?" There was a long pause whilst a slow, goofy smile spread across Gerard's face and Sarah felt her stomach drop.

"A whore." He spoke confidently, and an inexplicable throb emanated from Sarah's core.

"And what are whores for, Gerard?" The judge continued to push him.

"They're f-for f-fucking, dad."

"That's right, buddy. OK Sarah, keep going."

Sarah swallowed the sudden sharpness of anger she'd felt at the way this man was teaching his impressionable sons how to treat women -- and the fact that she was reinforcing that lesson by doing what he said.

As more of her bust came into view the boy began to giggle gleefully, and the older two smiled as crookedly as their father. Soon the top was up to her chin, with her generous cleavage on display for the boys.

She knew from taking numerous photos of herself, the way her breasts appeared disproportionate to the rest of her body. The weight of them looked as though they ought to topple her over and, she supposed, sometimes they did.

"What do we say, boys?" The judge asked them and collectively, they responded.

"Good girl."

The chorus somehow made her shudder, though she wasn't sure if it was from disgust or something else. Naively, she wondered if perhaps this was as far as she was required to go but she ought to have known better.

"OK Sarah, now the bra. Lift it up, sweetheart. Let's see them." He encouraged her in a soft voice that sent shivers down her spine. Slowly, she moved to comply.

The bra itself was an old one, with the underwire snapped in several places from the weight of her bosom. So hooking her fingers underneath was easy and, with some persuasion, the material was pulled up and away, freeing her naked breasts to the cool air of the alley.

The motion of the reveal sent them wobbling up and down like jelly, slapping together and springing apart again. She could feel her nipples hardening from the temperature around them, although she wondered if they might have been hard anyway.

She had to admit, despite her overarching anxiety and simmering anger, she was also getting turned on.

"Boys?"

"Good girl."

"Fuck yeah, good girl." Mike started clapping but the judge smacked him on the back of the head.

"Let's not draw too much attention. C'mon Gerard let's get a little closer. You don't mind, do you Sarah?"

Sarah did not respond but she wasn't sure if he had expected her to. Gerard and his father took several steps forward. They were both a great deal taller than Sarah, and their shadows cast an even greater chill over her exposed body.

"Oh yeah, look at these." The judge spoke with some admiration in his voice. "What did I tell you? Didn't I say you'd get to see titties on your birthday?"

"Yes dad." Gerard laughed, happy.

"And these are whoppers, aren't they boys? What do you think? C-cup? D-cup?"

"Bigger than that." Mike said and Stanley agreed.

"Way bigger. Hey, err Sarah..." He addressed her and his family all seemed as surprised as she was. "I got err... $20. Let me buy your bra."

The judge laughed loud enough to cause more of a scene than the clapping would have done. "That's my boy! What do you say, Sarah? An easy $20?"

It took her all of 2 seconds to decide. Although it was half the money she'd spent on it in the first place, the bra was old and broken anyway. $20 was bus money; a healthy meal for Granddaddy; or money towards their power bill. What did she care what he wanted to do with it?

She reached behind with one hand and unhooked the thing with expert fingers. Then she removed it from beneath her shirt, and held it out to him with both melons still fully exposed.

The boy's family seemed pleased for him, patting his back as though he'd achieved something great. He handed the $20 to his father, who was still holding onto the $50 he now owed her.

"I got $5 for the shirt?" The other boy, Mike, offered her. Before Sarah could recoil however, his father stepped in.

"$5? Are you serious, Mikey?"

"What? That's all I got!"

"Jesus, I'm sorry darlin'." The judge addressed her. "You try to teach 'em manners, you know? What do you think of Sarah's tits, boys?"

"Rad."

"Awesome."

"Amazing!" Gerard seemed happiest of all.

"I'm gonna make an offer now, a real offer, and you are more than welcome to turn me down, okay sweetheart?" The judge told her, taking out his wallet again and counting. "What do you say... to $500, and you give me your shirt to keep? Take your time. Think about it."

Sarah did think about it as all 8 of their eye balls were more-or-less glued to her chest, watching her movements as she breathed in and out, shakily. This feeling of being exposed whilst they remained fully clothed and gawking at her; it was... electrifying. Although the thought of someone, like Hank or Candice, coming out and seeing them was enough to fill her gut with nausea.

Being without a shirt presented an additional problem too. After this was over, she had the rest of her shift to complete. Hank would understand, she knew immediately. If she was stood in the middle of his office completely topless, asking for a new shirt, he would nod and find one for her, no questions asked.

So really, all she had to do was walk from this alleyway, through the back door, down the short staff corridor and into Hank's office. All for $500 -- which was more than the cost of Granddaddy's new water heater.

"Good girl!" They all repeated in a broken chorus as she lifted it off her head and handed it to him. Now completely naked from the waist up, the temptation to fold her arms over her chest was one she had to fight with a concentrated effort.

It also meant that if somebody did come out and find them like this, there was no quick and easy solution such as pulling her shirt down to escape judgement. She would be forced to stand there and be judged. Sarah tried her best to ignore that she both loved and hated that thought, the same way she both loved and hated the way they were all staring at her.

"That is a good girl," the judge seemed impressed as he threw her shirt over his shoulder like a used towel. "They always did say the customer service here was outstanding. How does it feel, sweetheart? Do you like showing us your big tits?"

Feeling her face flush, she tried to look down but was met with the source of her currently inescapable embarrassment bulging out at her; two massive, floppy mammories taking up a great deal of her lower-peripheral vision. Instead she angled her gaze to the side, at the brick wall of the Hooters restaurant, thick with amateur graffiti and some questionable-looking stains.

"Y-yes sir." She answered and addressed him as he had told her to before.

"Full sentences please, Sarah. I wanna hear you say it." He insisted and Sarah bit her lip. She was afraid of that.

"I like showing you my... big tits, sir." She managed to force the words out, all the while trying to ignore the strong pulsing sensation between her legs. Dirty talk was one of the things she'd wished she'd been able to get her boyfriends to do well in the past. None had satisfied her. Not like this.

"Good girl."

"You fucking slut." Mike seemed to growl with an animal-like hunger in his eyes.

"Hey!" The judge smacked his head again and Mike rubbed it, staring sheepishly at the ground. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. Please excuse him. Now look, I know that you know $500 is a lot of money. My Gerard, he's a sweet boy. He don't mean no harm. What do you say you let him touch? He ain't never touched no titties before, ain't that right Gerard?"

"No dad." The boy agreed.

"C'mon, Sarah. Have a heart. Ain't we been generous to you?" The judge appealed to her.

Sarah did not take as long to deliberate as she might have wanted to think she would have. It would be easy to say she was afraid that if she didn't let them touch her, they wouldn't give up any of the money that they owed her. Or that Gerard was clearly harmless, and she didn't mind allowing him this moment to enjoy being a man under his father's supervision.

The terrifying truth was, as she stood there with her top half fully exposed in front of a group of red-blooded males, and only her little panties and short-shorts on for protection, the desire to be touched was growing stronger by the minute. Maybe Gerard had been right the first time. Maybe she wasn't just a whore. Maybe she was a slut, too.

She licked her lips and nodded her head, not trusting her voice to speak the words. "That's a girl." The judge continued to praise her generously, and always in that soft tone of voice that seemed to be winning her over more and more.

"Put your hands behind your head, just like that." He instructed her carefully and she complied, interlocking her fingers and breathing out shakily. Her nipples had never felt so hard in her life and they seemed to ache like beacons, begging for attention as much as the rest of her.

"Now I want you to look at Gerard and I want you to tell him what you want him to do. Do you understand? And you call him sir. He deserves your respect as much as any of us." The judge spoke firmly and Sarah swallowed hard, considering her words.

The fact that she was turned on was likely to be obvious to the judge if not his less experienced sons. But she didn't want to give away just how damp her panties were.

"Will you please touch m-my breasts, sir?" She said quietly, and could practically see the light sparkling in Gerard's eyes like a child on Christmas morning. He giggled as though nervous, himself. Nobody rushed him.

Suddenly, she felt a sharp prod, as though from an index finger, deep in the meat of her right tit. Gerard's laugh grew more gleeful as he watched her heavy breast jiggle from the contact.

Again and again he prodded, each time in the exact some place, making it painful. Each time she began to grimace uncomfortably, but she forced herself to resist the urge to shy away. Her gaze lifted from Gerard to his father, wondering if he might say something to help her. But neither of them were looking at her face; it was almost as though she wasn't there at all -- not as a person, but perhaps as a doll, or a pair of levitating fun bags.

"Try the other one." The judge finally encouraged and Gerard plunged his finger into her left tit, making it wobble just as hard as the other. With each prod, Sarah began to whimper and shift on the spot. But she neither moved away nor dropped her hands from behind her head. This was horrible -- so why did she like it so much?

"Give 'em a squeeze, Gerard." Mike suggested, salivating from the side-lines. Taking his brother's advice, Gerard grabbed onto her hard with both hands and squeezed with all his might.

"Ah!" Sarah yelped and the boy let go, afraid. He looked up at his father for reassurance.

"That's okay Gerard." The judge said. "You can squeeze, just not that hard. Like this."

The older male did not ask permission, nor hesitate at all. His larger, more weathered palms came to graze over her hardened nipples and he began to knead her rhythmically, in a somewhat circular motion.

Now that the prodding was over, this practically felt like a massage. Despite her best efforts, Sarah felt her eyes roll back with pleasure and a moan escaped from her throat.

"There, you see? She likes that, don't you Sarah? Do you like your fat tits being molested?" Sarah's breathing became harder she nodded her head in agreement, yes. Then she remembered what the judge had said about full sentences.

"I like... I like having my f-fat tits molested, sir."

"You are very trainable, aren't you?" The judge grinned, now playing more freely with Sarah's breasts. Holding one in each hand and throwing them up in sequence, as though juggling. Clap, clap, clapping them together until the meat began to turn pink. Pinching her nipples hard but tugging on them gently, as though attempting to coax something out of them.

At this point she was so deeply aroused by the judge's play time that her mind barely reacted to the realisation that she was being filmed by Stanley's camera phone.

"C'mere you two." The judge beckoned the brothers closer and the camera was passed off onto Gerard. "Take one each, come on. Get your mouths on them."

Sarah's brain knew no resistance and the judge seemed to see that as clear as day. Her moaning grew significantly louder at the sensation of two wet mouths suckling at her nipples as though desperately hungry for a sustenance only she could provide. One hand squeezing at the base of her breast, the other rubbing the back of her hot pants. The same on the other side.

"I know it's harder for you to think right now, Sarah. But you should know I've been a single father for longer than I care to admit." The judge explained as he watched his sons molest her under his supervision. "Gerard, give me the camera. Pull down her panties and give them to me."

Sarah opened her mouth to protest but the only sound she seemed to be able to make was one of deep, sexual arousal. Gerard struggled for a short time with her apron, and the button at the top of her shorts, but it wasn't long before they were down around her ankles along with her soaking wet, mismatched panties. Finally, her smooth, naked pussy was exposed to the cool evening air along with the rest of her body and it felt... so... good.

Like the good girl they had frequently accused her of being, she stepped out of her clothing, allowing Gerard to take them to his father. After a short moment of deliberation, the judge glanced back at the parking lot.

"You see that trash can over there, son?" He pointed to the one close to the bus stop where Sarah had gotten off just hours ago. "Take this stuff and dump it." He gave him her shirt, along with the rest of her clothing that they had collected, and Gerard was off like a shot.

Meanwhile the brothers' groping of her ass had become rougher after finding it gloriously bare beneath their hands. Growing more confident by the second, they each began to spank her just as their father had done in front of everyone she worked with. With each slap, Sarah gasped, feeling the ripples travel the wide area of her impressive backside.

"Stanley." The judge barked to get his attention, and the boy removed himself from her breast with a somewhat plunger-like sound effect. "Take your brother and bring the car around."

"But dad-" He began to protest but something in the judge's expression kept him from carrying on. "C'mon." For a moment, she locked eyes with Mike, the more intimidating-looking son, and saw only two things reflected back at her; anger and lust. Before she could react to defend herself, the boy spat on her face and she felt the hot phlegm drip down from her cheek onto her shelf-like bosom.

He turned away and disappeared from the alley with his brother. Then Sarah was finally alone, naked and vulnerable, with the man she knew only as 'the judge'.

"I wanted to give you a moment to feel calm." He said to her as she stood, shivering and soaked from the waist down, her hands still firmly planted on her head with no intention or desire to remove them. "What I'm about to suggest to you is radical, but you know I am a man of great means and you, Sarah, are a Hooters Girl. If you'd like, you'd never have to be a Hooters Girl again. If you'd like, you could get in our car and come and work for me.

You get in this car with me, and you do as you're told, just like I know you can. And for that, I'll give you one hell of a pay cheque.

You take a moment now to think about your decision, because you only have another minute before the offer is revoked. But just remember, if you say yes you will never want for another single thing."

For the first time all day, Sarah found that she could stare back into the judge's penetrating gaze with unflinching eyes. She continued to pant from arousal and it was clear from her face there was no 'decision' to be made. She had never been a particularly good waitress in the first place.

"Look into the camera," he said, firmly. "Say your name, and agree that you give consent."

Sarah took a moment to absorb this instruction. She swallowed hard to make sure she didn't choke.

"My name is Sarah Summers. And I give my full consent."