Shy Iris Ch. 05

Iris wrapped her hoodie more tightly around her face. Winter break had long since passed, and the semester was drawing closer to spring break. It was a lukewarm day, but still, she pulled her jacket close. It wasn't cold out, no, Iris pulled her jacket tightly around her because she was walking through the type of neighborhood that news reporters would describe as urban. Windows were boarded up, cars were coated with rust; far off in the distance an alarm was going off. Iris hurried up the sidewalk towards the fitness center, a much nicer looking building than the ones around it.

"Hi, welcome to Power Fitness!"

Iris approached the young man cautiously. She was dressed for a workout- sports bra and tank under her sweatshirt, tennis shoes, loose fitting sweatpants. And yet, her massive rear end bobbled with every step she took along the smooth tile. The receptionist was skinny and tall, dark skinned, wearing shorts and a loose t-shirt with STATE in big yellow letters stitched across it. He was seated at a desk situated on a raised platform, busily scribbling away at some paperwork.

Iris had to stand on her tiptoes to be eye level with the desktop. She knew doing so pushed her enormous backside out obscenely, but thankfully there was no one standing behind her. "Hi, I'm Iris! I wanted to sign up for your gym."

The boy looked up from his paperwork and grinned at her. No recognition flashed in his eyes, and Iris breathed a sigh of relief. On a number of occasions since the Tri-Pi Halloween party she'd been greeted by men on the street, and in businesses; with lecherous stares, outright catcalls, and worst of all, the occasional moo. "Are you sure, a University girl in State territory?"

Iris stared at him for a second, before she realized that her sweatshirt had the name of her school across the front, while here at this gym she was mere miles from the state college, one of their biggest rivals. She had planned it that way, of course, hoping to lower her chances of being recognized. Especially after getting an e-mail about how cheap the prices were.

"So, what made you want to sign up for our gym?"

Iris' mind blanked momentarily. She couldn't imagine a polite way to tell a complete stranger that she was tired of being an entire fraternity's personal fuck toy. That she hoped by shrinking her big, fat ass down to a more reasonable size the boys would grow tired of her and move on, and other men would start seeing her as more than a fat bottomed cock sleeve.

"Do I have to answer that?" She asked.

The boy chuckled. "It's a pretty boiler-plate questionnaire. The staff just wants to know what areas of fitness you'd like to focus on so they can match you up with the best trainer. You know, if you wanted to improve your cardio, build muscle mass, lose some weight; stuff like that."

My cardio's great from all the fucking I've been doing, and I've built plenty of mass in my giant butt thanks all the cum I've swallowed! "Lose weight, I guess." She thought for a second. "A lot of weight."

The receptionist regarded Iris with a puzzled look on his face. "I probably shouldn't say this, since my whole job is based on signing up new clients, but why would a skinny young girl like you worry so much about her weight?"

Iris stared at the boy, feeling twice as confused as he looked. And then it struck her; from his vantage point, behind a desk on a raised platform, he could only see Iris' upper half. High cheekbones, narrow shoulders, average breasts, flat stomach, narrow waistline. He hadn't even looked up when Iris walked in. He had no idea that the slim-waisted, dark haired beauty was hiding a monstrous mutant butt.

Iris stood, rooted in place, frozen. Her china-white face burning a brilliant shade of vermillion. "I'm sorry," the clerk continued, oblivious. "I didn't mean to offend you. Are you okay?"

Even if Iris' mouth would have been able to form words, how could she have possibly explained to this young man that she was there to get rid of her humongous, cellulite riddled, badonkadonk? Deep down, a part of her brain politely informed her that she couldn't just stand there all day. Iris sighed. "Just, come around the desk."

The boy cocked an eyebrow. "What are you talking about?"

Iris sighed again. "Just, walk around the desk. You'll understand."

The boy hesitated, but he finally stood up from his seat, looking as confused as ever. Iris watched as he turned and took three steps down, swung open a small wooden gate, and finally stepped around the platform. The look on the young man's face quickly transformed from one of half confusion, half amusement, to one of absolute shock. His eyes burst open wide and he stopped dead in his tracks as he finally caught sight of Iris' monstrous rear end. Iris stared straight ahead and gritted her teeth, forcing herself not to tear up.

"Jesus Christ..." the young man muttered, seemingly forgetting that Iris was still within earshot. "Biggest fucking ass I've ever seen."

Iris shot the receptionist a look of pure malice. He gulped, and composed himself.

"I think I've got the perfect trainer for you!"

***

Opal Taylor, fat bottomed Iris' newly entrapped mother, strolled up the sidewalk to the Pi Pi Pi fraternity house. She was dressed plainly; subtle heels, slacks, a primly buttoned sunshine-colored blouse. And yet with every step her massive breasts bounced wildly.

While Iris had been cursed with a big, bulging, backside, her mother had been blessed with full, round, billowing, tits. But, despite their contrary curves, the Taylor women had one thing in common; continued growth long after puberty. Opal's chest, years after filling out her training bra, had simply kept growing with no sign of stopping. And, unfortunately for the elder Taylor woman, while Iris was still young, Opal had two decades on her daughter. Iris might have had a cartoonishly large backside, but Opal, with her extra years of growth, was sporting a brassiere that could fit a pair of fully inflated beach balls with room to spare.

Opal finally arrived at the front door of the fraternity house. She paused. Just by sending Opal pictures of her daughter's debasement, and threatening to release them to the public, the head of the fraternity had managed to manipulate Opal into sending him pictures of her breasts. Udders, he had called them, udders. She shuddered to think of what else he could coerce her to do now that they were meeting in person. But, deep down, she knew she had to do something, anything, to try to wrestle her daughter free of these young men's grasps. She sighed, and knocked on the door.

A tall, broad shouldered young man opened the door with a wide grin on his face. He leered unabashedly at Opal's huge, heaving, breasts. "You must be Iris' mom! Come on in! Jack's been expecting you!"

Opal frowned. She tried to walk past the man but his hulking frame was blocking the doorway. In her effort to squeeze through, one of Opal's immense breasts squashed against the young man's arm. By the wicked grin on his face, she could tell it wasn't an accident.

The young man lifted his arm to point up the stairs, using the motion as an excuse to press against Opal's bulging tit again. "Right up there. You can't miss it."

Opal surveyed the living room. There were a handful of brothers in the room, not too many but more than she would have liked present in the house. They were seated on couches and chairs, pretending to be pre-occupied with banal tasks like homework or texting. But it was obvious to Opal that they were all there for her. One of the boys seated nearest to her had a textbook open, spread across his lap. It was clearly upside down. She gulped again, and started to ascend the stairs.

Opal's heavy jugs bounced with every step up the staircase, and she could see over the bannister that the young men weren't even pretending to ignore her; each one of the boys was openly staring at her mesmerizing breasts. Over the years she had grown used to such obvious gazes, but there was something about being in this house, alone, with the same group of boys who had been abusing her daughter, that kept Opal on edge. And there was another feeling that she was doing her best not to acknowledge as well; her panties were starting to dampen. In fact, by the time she reached the landing for the second floor, Opal Taylor's modest underwear were practically soaked through. She pushed the thought of it out of her head and entered the open bedroom door.

A young man with sandy blonde hair and rippling muscles was standing facing the window, his back to her. He was rigging up lengths of rope on either side of the window. Hanging something, a flag, maybe? But the rope looked far too heavy for a simple piece of cloth. Opal decided it couldn't have been that important, and besides, there were more pressing issues at hand. She cleared her throat, nervously. "Are you... are you Jack?"

The young man turned and immediately Opal knew. That twisted grin. That lip curled up in a subtle sneer. This was the deviant bastard who had ordered her little girl's giant ass tattooed even after poor Iris had done every demented task dreamed up for her on Halloween. And then had the unmitigated gall to text a video of it all to her mother! This was Jack. Opal gritted her teeth.

"I want you to stay away from my daughter."

Jack's grin never faltered as he turned away from the window. His eyes settled on Opal's massive, heaving, chest. Jack was practically licking his lips as he took a seat near his computer desk.

"Opal. It's so nice to finally meet you. Please, have a seat."

Opal surveyed the room. She would have preferred to stand, but for some reason, the heat in her crotch was only increasing, and Opal was worried her legs would give out. Finally, she sat down on an ottoman. Opal found herself looking up at Jack, who was still grinning lasciviously down at her.

"You look like her, you know. Or I suppose, she looks like you."

"Please don't talk about my daughter..."

"You brought her up," Jack snapped, cutting Opal off. His voice was forceful, with just enough edge that Opal could understand why Iris had let herself be so thoroughly dominated by this young man. "Take it as a compliment. You're both beautiful. Dark hair. Pale skin. Blue eyes." His gaze drifted downwards, from Opal's eyes to her bulging breasts. "There are, of course, some obvious differences."

Jack rose from his chair. Opal watched him move, curiously. He lifted a large, flat, rectangular package, wrapped in brown paper, and hung it on the thick ropes he had been setting up when Opal entered. "I planned on having this done when you got here, but you were a little early. I can't decide if I like that or not. I tell you what I do like." Jack ripped the brown paper wrapping off his newly hung ornament. "This poster I had made."

Opal nearly fainted. Hanging in Jack's window was a blown-up print of the photo he had blackmailed her into taking on Christmas Eve. There, dressed up in baubles and bows, were Opal's huge white milkers, and Iris' massive dimpled butt cheeks. Just the word COW, tattoed into Iris' fat, pale, dumper was a full foot across. To Opal's dismay, Jack had made sure to include the full picture, which included both her sour looking face, and Iris looking back over her shoulder. "Yes, quite a few differences. I think I'd like to hear you describe them. The differences between your daughter and yourself. Maybe you can teach me something, wisdom comes with age and all that."

Opal gaped at the young man. It was bad enough that Jack had used his footage of Iris to blackmail Opal into taking a naughty photo with her daughter, now he had blown it up into a full poster, and wanted Opal to describe it to him?!? This was one twisted game Opal didn't feel like playing.

"I'm not going to do that." Opal stated, simply.

Jack nodded at her. "That's fine. I thought you might say that." He twisted one of the ropes the poster was hanging from. Slowly, the portrait swung until it was facing out the window. "This window faces the street," Jack informed Opal, matter-of-factly. "There's another house across the street with a picture of you out front. Except, theirs is in the yard, since your real estate firm is selling their house." Jack grinned at Opal's dropped jaw. "Google can be a real son of a bitch, can't it? I wonder what would happen if someone passing by were to recognize you in both pictures? We might end up on the news!"

Opal's heart was racing as fear gripped her stacked body. "Please, turn that around."

"Do you want to take another look at it? Maybe tell me what you see?" Jack phrased his statements as questions, but it was obvious to Opal that she really had no option. She sighed, and nodded her head.

"That's better," Jack tugged the rope one more time, and again the photograph was facing into the room. Jack again sat down across from Opal. "Now, here's what I want you to do. I want you to describe the differences between you and your daughter. And, to make it a little more interesting, for every answer I don't like, I want you to undo a button on your shirt."

Opal froze. "I will most certainly not be doing that."

Jack smirked. "I was hoping you would play along, but I can't say that I wasn't prepared for this." He yanked the rope again, and the poster sized portrait of Opal naked alongside her big bottomed daughter swung back into public view. "You can go now, I guess."

Opal was incredulous. "Really?"

"Of course," Jack said. "I'm a deviant, but I'm not a monster. You're free to leave whenever you wish."

Opal pointed at the poster, still on full display to the public. "What about that...thing?"

Jack's smirk grew even wider. "Oh, that stays up until you decide to play along. However long that takes. It's really your call."

Opal sat, stunned, her thoughts churning. Finally, she sighed, and spoke. "Fine, I'll go along with your silly little game." Opal knew it was playing along with Jack that had gotten Iris into trouble in the first place; but she also believed she was the only person who could help her daughter. She had some semblance of a plan, but needed more from the fraternity before she could put it into motion.

Jack, true to his word, tugged the rope again and the poster flipped around. "Glad to see we're having fun," he sneered. "Now, that as a non-answer. Undo a button on your blouse."

Opal stared and stammered. "Can... can I get a mulligan on that one?"

Jack burst into laughter. "Alright, I'll give you a do over since you obviously didn't understand the rules." He leaned back in his chair, continuing to stare at Opal's massive breasts. "Now, tell me what's different about you and your daughter. And if I don't like the answer, you're undoing a button."

Flushed and frustrated, Opal's mind was blank. "I'm... I'm much older than Iris. Obviously. I have some wrinkles, some crow's feet, laugh lines. Stuff like that."

Jack rolled his eyes. "Come on, that's fucking lame. Undo a button and try again."

Opal's fingers fumbled with the button at her collar, several moments passing before she was finally able to free the button from its loop. She had quite a few buttons left, but just that single button coming open had revealed her pale neckline, and she could feel her mighty, wobbling, tit-flesh straining against its' tight, cotton, cage. She took a breath to steady her nerves, but the action only made her jumbo-sized rack strain tighter against her blouse.

Opal finally calmed herself, and spoke again. "Well, my daughter has a tattoo. I don't have any."

Jack sighed. "If you're not going to take this seriously you can just leave. Now undo another button and give it another shot."

Gulping, Opal unhooked the next button down on her bright yellow blouse. The first hint of her plunging cleavage burst into view, pressing upward into the new opening. Opal stared downward as her tits billowed precariously upward, but her remaining buttons held.

Opal stared at Jack. She knew exactly what he wanted to hear, but dreaded actually saying it out loud. She gritted her teeth, closed her eyes, and kept going. "My daughter has a rather large bottom, and I happen to be... well endowed."

"You're getting warmer," Jack said, although he still didn't sound altogether impressed. "You're not quite there yet, though. I'll tell you what, how about you undo a button on the bottom of your shirt this time as a reward."

Opal breathed a sigh of relief and hastily untucked her shirt, undoing the bottom button. Her breasts still bounced obscenely, but she didn't feel any danger of her shirt bursting this time. She thought she was finished, with a few buttons left, even, but looked up to see Jack continuing to stare at her.

"Well?" He demanded.

Opal looked at Jack in terror. "Did you want me to keep going?"

"Obviously." Jack spat out. "Undo another button on the bottom of your shirt just for asking such a stupid fucking question."

Hurriedly, Opal unhooked the bottom button on her shirt. Now, it was the bottom of her massive melons which threatened to burst her shirt apart, as the bottom of her bulging, white, JJ cups burst into view. Three buttons, that was all that stood between Opal and having to sit before her daughter's tormentor in just her bra. He'd already seen her breasts naked in a photograph, and performed much worse acts on her daughter, but there was something about being seated in front of Jack, in person, in just a brassiere, that made Opal's stomach turn. And her pussy itch with anticipation.

"My daughter has a very big rear end, and I have overly large breasts."

"That's good, but you're not quite there yet. One more button."

Opal undid another button. Now her straining bra was exposed on top and bottom, her pale, billowing tit-flesh exposed on either end. Two buttons, that was all that stood between her and failure. Her head swam.

"My daughter has a fat butt and I have huge boobs!" Opal couldn't believe the filthy words coming out of her mouth. Was that really her speaking? How had it come to this? And why were her panties so wet?

"OOh, you're so close! Second to last button goes bye-bye! Last chance!"

"My daughter has a cow ass and I have massive tits!" Opal's entire body was flushed. She'd never been so humiliated and hot in her entire life.

Jack sat across from her unmoved. "I tell you what, I'll give you one more chance. But if it's not good enough, you have to take off your shirt, your bra, and the rest of your clothes, and donate you to the wrestling team."

Opal's lips moved but no words came out. She was panicking. What more could she even say? Her brain didn't work like his.

"Five..." Jack started counting.

"Please..."

"Four..."

"I can't..."

"Three..."

"Jack...."

"TWO..."

"Come on..."

"ONE!"

"MY DAUGHTER HAS A FAT MUTANT DUMPER THAT'S ONLY GOOD FOR TAKING COCKS AND I HAVE MONSTER UDDERS BUILT TO BE SMOTHERED IN CUM!!!!"

When Opal blurted out her final answer, two things happened. One, Opal clamped her eyes shut due to her ears being overloaded with a buzzing sound, as she experienced the strangest orgasm of her life. And two, her rapid, panicked breathing and animated outburst caused the last, valiant, button on her blouse to burst. The halves of her shirt fell open as her massive, sagging melons burst free of their mooring. Her heavy bra was now the only thing keeping Opal from being completely topless. She sucked in great, gasping breaths, her pale jugs bouncing with every exhalation.

"Fuck..." Jack spoke, finally breaking the silence. "That was amazing."

Opal inched her eyes open and looked up to see Jack standing before her, naked, his hard cock waving menacingly in front of him. Without warning he hooked a finger into the front of her massive brassiere and slid his thick dick between her fat, pale, jugs. He began thrusting upwards into her wobbling white flesh, her quaking udders bouncing wildly as Jack fucked them mercilessly.