Jillion Orgasms

Author's Note: Story requested by KC55.

Jill had an unorthodox life to put it simply. Being quad breasted was unusual, though she knew more than a few people with the same condition, and she'd stayed a virgin throughout school and college, but she had friends that were the same. Neither of those qualified for strange really. It was her daily routine that few knew of, but was prevalent throughout.

That would be her orgasms. They weren't exceptionally powerful life some she heard about, nor were they hard to come by, in fact, it was the opposite. Hers were quick affairs, like a pinch but pleasant, however they came in droves. The first person she told about it claimed the same thing, that they came ten or twelve times just masturbating, yet were nowhere near Jill's level. Perhaps if she came a few hundred times, then she'd be more relatable.

"Fuck, that's a strong one," Jill murmured after she yawned, muscles clenching and triggering a powerful climax in the process. The sharp intake of air almost set off another. She scooted off her bed, cumming a little with each movement, and got up to relieve herself, resulting in few more bursts of pleasure. This was her existence; to cum over and over from the smallest, most menial action.

Yet she managed. Jill had a decent paying job in a maid café, her own apartment, a group of close friends and some nice acquaintances, and she even got along with her co-workers. School had been a nightmare, though. Her condition hadn't flared up until puberty was in full swing and, while growing her second pair of breasts had been tumultuous, they were paltry against the onslaught that faced her. Looking back, she laughed at when it first started and she had PE. Imagine trying to do a balancing act and cumming the whole time.

Since then, she'd adjusted. Parts of life were harder than others, such as brushing her teeth. The vibrations of her toothbrush, the bristles running along her teeth, and slight motion across her body sent her climax count skyrocketing. One... ten... twenty... usually she counted at least fifty before she rinsed out her mouth and had another. It'd become a habit early into her condition, to try keeping a mental tally of her orgasms.

Showering and drying and getting dressed brought the total to eighty that morning alone. Luckily, her clothes were made to be as light on her skin as was possible, denying her haywire nerves the stimulus they needed. Of course, she still needed her bra.

"Oh shit," she groaned as her four nipples scrunched up against the cups. Whether it was her condition or just natural, Jill's breasts refused to stop growing. And they were fast to boot. The J cups she bought two weeks ago were already snug, which meant disaster for someone like herself. With the cups and straps digging into her flesh, each little adjustment she made triggered another climax. She almost didn't bother with panties since they were usually drenched after an hour.

Without them, however, she risked living a trail. Last thing she wanted was someone slipping on her emissions, not that it was always possible to avoid. Maybe on a good day she'd get home without changing them, but most days she had at least one switch. Bad days forced her to keep at least four or five spares on hand. And today would absolutely be one of those days.

She'd lived with it for so long that she could just tell after waking up. Nevermind the bra, her sensitivity was racked up high that morning, and, in her expertise, it wouldn't diminish. Probably a 400 day, Jill thought as she came from putting her shoes on. The weather claimed it wouldn't be too windy at least, so her hair shouldn't trigger anything.

That was a fucking lie. Once at work, her once neat hair was a mess and her panties were already useless. Trails ran down her leggings, put in place to minimise outside sensation, and nearly sent her spiralling time after time. But work didn't care about how her morning went, so long as she still turned up. Jill changed into uniform, a traditional French Maid ensemble, which her leggings suited perfectly. The gloves helped too.

"Tough morning?" Samantha, a friend and co-worker, asked in the changing rooms.

"That obvious?" Jill sighed.

"Pretty much. Well, just gotta power through, right?"

"I'll try," Jill said and forced a smile. Not too wide, since straining those muscles alone could trigger her. Small mercies came to her in that she got to play as the 'indifferent maid', the kind that treated everyone courteously and little else. Expressing herself too much could have consequences.

As expected, work tormented her to no end. It was a Saturday, one of their busier days, and she was a popular choice of servers, as such she was always on the go. One table somehow thought they were on friendly terms and touched her arm during the lunch rush. The touch, and subsequent snap at the customer, brought her to her knees, shuddering through bliss until it passed. She made an excuse and left the dining room.

That made, by her count, 250 and she wasn't even halfway done with the day. Of that number, at least 10 were powerful ones, forcing her to change panties each time. She'd anticipated a lot, bringing a dozen or so with her, but she worried it would be enough. Jill took a slow breath to centre herself and returned to work, avoiding the grabby table. It didn't stop accidents from happening of course.

Sometimes it was just a small coincidence, like someone standing up when she was paying attention, or a co-worker rushing off for their break. The contact still froze Jill in place, waiting for her orgasm to pass. It was getting to be too much. Her tolerance was something to revere, but she had limits. Each climax almost made her moan, the urge worsening as the minutes and hours trickled by. If not for Samantha stepping in on occasion, she might've left early.

As it was, she stuck out the whole day. Sure, her pussy and nipples were throbbing from the constant stimulus, and she was at the end of her rope, but she'd done it. That's what mattered. Most customers were taken care of but one, though they seemed displeased by something. Last one, Jill thought and checked in.

"Everything alright, ma'am?" Jill asked.

"No, I'm afraid not. My meal is already cold and I ordered it half an hour ago," the customer snapped.

"Sorry about that, I'll take it and heat it up for you," Jill said, keeping her tone level as her training dictated. The food was still warm, but some people just wanted to stir trouble. As she began toward the kitchen, someone pushed their chair out. She stopped in time, but they picked that moment to stretch, arms extending straight toward her. Jill raised the plate to keep it away, but their hand wouldn't have come close as it lodged between her legs. Their momentum carried their hand straight to her treacherous pussy.

Jill never masturbated. She didn't have sex. She even avoided porn just in case that proved too much. Nothing justified her better than the moment the customer's hand struck her panties. It was just a little bit of pressure, but enough.

She yelled a moan and crumbled to the floor, plate falling in the process. The hand was gone an instant later, yet the pleasure persisted, flooding her body without end. Her inner walls clamped around nothing, rubbing together and jump started several more climaxes in the process. She fell to her back, writhing and moaning, bliss contorting her face into a hedonistic grin. It passed after a minute as her muscles exhausted themselves.

"Just what kind of crap is this?"

Jill winced at the voice of the customer she'd been helping, their order now a splatter on the floor. She looked up at their snarling face. What was their problem? It's not like the food couldn't be replaced, and it'd be hot and fresh too.

"I come here to eat and enjoy myself. How can I when sluts like you work here? Fucking disgusting. Where's your goddamn manager? I demand a comped meal after this shit."

"What's the big deal?" Jill snapped, the filter from brain to mouth snapped by her brutal climax, "I had an accident. No need to lose your head about."

"Oh, you fucking bitch..."

"Just please fuck off. It's been a long day, I don't need this," Jill said and pushed herself up, shaking from exhaustion. She just wanted the day to be over with, go home and wash off all the sweat and pussy juice she'd accumulated over the day.

"You've no idea what I am do you?"

"The customer is always right, but there's point in... oh..." Jill blinked at the glow coming from the woman's hands, while an ancient, dangerous language dripped from her lips.

"Jill!" Samantha called, footsteps rushing then stopped when she saw the light.

"NEC GAUDENS!" The witch cackled and the light condensed into a ball, which flew at Jill's body. She slapped it, though her effort was worthless, as it entered her all the same.

"What did you do?" Karen, Jill's manager, demanded after she summoned by the commotion.

"Just teaching her a lesson," the witch said, "She won't be cumming for twenty-four hours. That should teach..."

"Seriously?" Jill sprung up, beaming at the witch she'd once feared and disliked.

"Y-yes."

Jill started patting herself all over, giggling madly at the lack of sensation. She didn't cum at all. It felt nice on her boobs, but otherwise nothing unusual. This was the best!

"Her meal's on me, Boss. But do you mind if I leave now?" Jill asked.

"Uh, yeah. Sure," Karen said, frowning at the bubbly girl. Only Samantha shared in her delight, the two holding hands and squealing when Jill didn't cream herself from the simple touch.

It was only 5PM when they got off and most of the stores were still open. For the first time, Jill tried on a bra and didn't cum from it touching her plump nipples. She also sampled several other clothes, though she didn't buy any, just to feel the normal fabric for the first time in years. It was amazing, the simplest things she'd missed since her condition began. She and Samantha got ice cream afterwards.

"Oh, fuck I've missed this," Jill sighed as she lapped at hers. Hot and cold foods could trigger her, but not for now.

"Here, try some of mine," Samantha offered some of her chocolate-fudge brownie cone.

"Fuck!" Jill moaned and kicked her legs in glee, "I wish this would last forever."

"But you've only got one day," Samantha reminded her.

"I know. Hey, let's go clubbing! I've never been."

"We should probably change first..."

"Kind of on a time-limit."

"True. Fuck it, we'll be fine. To the club!"

"To the club!" Jill cheered and led the way, still munching on her ice cream. Too fast, it turned out, as she got brain freeze halfway to Samantha's car. Jill didn't drive, since she couldn't afford any of the newer, electric cars, and most motors vibrated enough to make her cum after just a few minutes. Not to mention uneven roads.

Time lost all its meaning. She almost didn't notice, or care, when Samantha dropped her off at 9 o'clock, still riding the high of the club. She'd drunk her worth and then some in liquor, ground against a dozen different guys and girls, and even kissed a few. Part of her wanted to sleep with them, but things didn't pan out as planned when she faceplanted after her tenth, or was it twentieth, drink. Samantha escorted her to some ice and drove her home after that.

Jill had plenty of ways to enjoy herself alone. For starters, she could finally admire her body the way it deserved, groping herself with glee. She hadn't done that since her breasts first grew in, before her condition joined the fun.

"Hmm, that's nice," Jill cooed at her reflection, watching as her tits overflowed her small hands. Just touching herself without cumming was nice, almost comforting like a hug. She pitied herself and all those who'd wanted to touch them across her life, the pert globes were soft like pudding and vast enough to offer endless delights. The touching brought out a rare desire that pulled her hands lower.

Tentatively, Jill ran a finger along her pussy. While she hadn't seen many in her life, she knew hers was larger than average, plumped up by the constant orgasms. It filled her hand with ease and flooded with her a soft pleasure. She was wet, yet she wasn't cumming. When was the last time she'd felt that?

Jill shook her head and slipped a finger inside, gasping at the long-forgotten sensation. She retired to her bed, sighing at the sheets against her body, which smouldered with the heat of her snatch. Adding another finger, she luxuriated in the warmth of it. She couldn't cum, but just feeling her pleasure was enough. Her body didn't understand that.

As she lazily thrust into herself, the pleasure built stacked within her. She moaned, brushing a sensitive spot, and frowned as everything took on that same feeling. Jill shrugged and kept going, eyes closing to the wonderful sensations building inside her. They hijacked her fingers, pushing a third inside and racking up the sensations. Gasps slipped from her lips with each thrust, the pleasure building until it matched her smallest orgasms.

"Oh god," Jill moaned and thrust faster, instincts screaming for her to do so. Her nipples ached for her touch, so she squeezed each in turn, but that was worse. Each beat of her heart echoed in her walls, squeezing around her fingers. Her hips bucked into her fingers and she rolled onto her front, ass raised high like she was presenting for someone. A fourth digit entered her snatch, stretching the opening deliciously far.

"Why won't it stop?" Jill grunted. She remembered the feeling of building to orgasm when she'd first discovered them, how it was a slow rise that peaked. This had transcended that peak long ago. Juices poured down her legs, soaking the sheets like she did most nights. Each of fingers moved independent of the others, eliciting lewd sounds from her cunt. Her boobs were crushed into the bed, all four squeezing out at the sides. The nipples shoved against it, as if trying to lift her on their own. They were throbbing so hard it felt like they might.

"Stop, stop, stop," Jill begged of herself, yet her limbs refused to listen. Her other hand joined the fun, teasing her asshole, then the stretched lips of her pussy. The touch was just a drop in an ocean now, but it accumulated all the same. She should've drowned in it long ago, yet it just rose, indeed like an ocean without a ceiling to keep it contained.

"STOP!" Jill shrieked and took control at last, wrenching her arms away to lay at her sides. She panted against her pillows, feeling every breath leave her lungs and beat of her heart in her ribs, reverberating throughout her system. Fem-cum poured down her thighs and ropes of it hung off her crotch, every drop thick and pungent. Even her ass was always moving, hungry for pleasure. This was worse than anything she'd dealt with.

Just the act of existing made her want to cum. Unlike all the times before, where orgasms rained throughout her day, she'd never wanted for them, now she craved for the sweet release. It had to be the witch.

"Gotta cum, but how?" Jill asked herself once she calmed a little. Turned out magical edging was a great way of sobering up. Every spell had its limits and the witch wasn't anyone famous, so it couldn't be too powerful. Maybe if she kept going she'd overwhelm it? The thought sounded stupid even in her head. But everything in her ached to continue, regardless of if she came. Get a grip, she thought and forced her hips down with a splat. Her snatch also met the sheets.

"Maybe a little more," Jill groaned, hands already creeping back. Traitors, she thought even as a moan escaped when they dipped back into her blazing folds. Her tits ached, as if desperate to be freed, so she rolled over with a heavy gasp as they jiggled on her chest. One of her hands darted to them, feeling how tight they'd become, like they were filling from within. Jill arched her back, the topmost pair falling to slap her in the chin and tempt her lips with their juicy nipples. Against her judgement, she caught one between her teeth.

How long passed like that? Minutes? Hours? It could've been seconds for all she comprehended at that stage. All she knew was pleasure, piling endlessly upon itself. Her skin had been sensitive before, but if she'd felt this day by day, she'd never stop cumming. The slightest breeze would set her off. Fuck, just the very act of orgasm would send her into more. Cumming until the day she died.

But the witch's spell prevented that. What had been a blessing was now the ultimate punishment as juices gushed from her boiling snatch, rivers of the stuff coming with her fingers as they pushed and twisted inside her. Not just her cunt, but her whole body was on fire. Even if she turned on the air conditioning, or shoved herself into the freezer, she doubted it would help. She'd turned into a creature of tortured ecstasy, forced to masturbate without a goal.

But it felt so fucking good! Jill moaned around her nipple, the vibrations worsening her situation, while she humped against her own hand. If the spell wore off there, she might die from the orgasm alone. She'd already leaked more fem-cum than any woman did from a full blown climax. And still she craved more.

Even her pussy agreed as it fattened against her hand until it overflowed her palm. The walls throbbed, shoving against her fingers, yet sucking them back when they retreated even a centimetre. Her clit was the worst offender, burgeoning into a fat ball the size of a grape. Her palm crushed it on accident, forcing the pleasure to ascend beyond reason. Without a doubt, none of her orgasms, in all her life, matched the endless tirade of ecstasy.

"This is gonna kill me," Jill moaned around her breast, stuffing more into her mouth by the second. How? She frowned, feeling her hand groping the bottom set. Curiosity broke past the miasma. She released the nipple and sat up, still fingering her cunt, "What... what's going on?"

Her tits, once torso defining, had grown to embody the description. Even if she straightened her back, which highlighted just how heavy they'd become, the second row grazed her lap. Her spare arm wrapped around the top pair, creating a cavernous cleavage, deep enough for her to lose all manner of things. Like her sanity, for they're grown in sensitivity to match.

And her nipples... Bras would be hell incarnate with the daunting things. She brought her hand to one and shuddered at the diminishing size difference. They had to be fat as three of her fingers put together, covered in slight bumps and enthroned upon her plumped areolae. Their colour had darkened as well, becoming a dull pink. Cursing herself, Jill shoved one toward her face and latched back on.

Down below, her clit engorged and pushed against her hand. The sensations from it changed, dulling slightly, yet the tip remained as intense. Her thrusts encouraged it. With each push and subsequent splash of juices, the bulb swelled. Jill shut her eyes, wanting to just fall asleep, yet the pleasure kept her aware of everything. Especially when her hand wrapped around what she thought was her clit.

The nipple popped free of her mouth, flopping back into place with the rest. Jill looked at the time, 2:30AM, and back at the alien object between her legs. Not that she didn't recognise it, but the thing didn't belong on her body. There it was, however, twitching in her grasp and teasing her just past the swell of her voluptuous tits.

"I must be dreaming," Jill said and squeezed. She flung her head back, smacking it against the wall but not feeling any pain, instead drowning in the relief she'd sought after. All her muscles quivered violently, spasms running along every limb and through her hips, from which the thing spurted a dense cream. It splattered her sheets, her legs and even her chest and face, but ended just a moment later.