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The Opinions of Tits


Brittany's large melons were a source of shame. From the time her tits had plumped up, seemingly overnight, people had stared and gawked at them, as though the oversized funbags on her chest were her identity. In school, her teachers spoke to her tits when addressing her. In public, people would wish her tits a good day or thank them for stopping in at the store. When she went out with friends, either male or female, those friends would carry on their conversations, while looking pointedly at Brittany's jugs.

At home, things were different, but in no way better. In fact, her mother, a rather flat-chested woman, was of the opinion that any girl with udders the size of Brittany's was nothing but a cocktease, a whore, and destined to be a bimbo. Brittany did not agree with this opinion, because Brittany was none of those things. However, mother did not care about the opinions of big-titted bimbos, because the only opinions that bimbos should have, were those that were put in their empty heads by people with cocks.

To remind Brittany of her identity, her mother would only buy Brittany tops that accentuated or exposed her tits. Her bras were all a size too small, fitting painfully over her melons, crushing them together, and making them look even larger than they already were. Brittany was only allowed to listen to trashy hip-hop that objectified women, or to brainless girly pop songs that were performed by girls whose identities were interchangeable with the sight of their tits.

On the walls of Brittany's room were posters of platinum-haired bimbos in lingerie, sucking on candy sticks or lollipops, women with vacant expressions or stupified looks of pleasure. Books, too, were something that Brittany did not read. Instead, she was supplied with check-out stand rumor magazines, teeny-bopper fashion publications, and celebrity gossip magazines. This practically ensured that the only things Brittany was able to converse about were those topics devoid of substance.

On Brittany's eighteenth birthday, her mother invited Brittany's friends and relatives to her party. Brittany's "friends" had no real interest in Brittany as a person, but rather viewed her as more of a decoration or eye candy. They made boob jokes at her expense, and then gave her little pats on the head when she blushed, humiliated, and assured her that it was all in good fun. Her female friends would giggle at her, and the male friends would ogle her, sometimes groping her, but always "in good fun."

Brittany was not thrilled about her birthday party, as every birthday party consisted of her mother requiring her to dress in a birthday suit, one that invariably brought more attention to her tits. This year, the "birthday suit" was a pushup bra and matching satin panties, along with stockings and ballet heels. Brittany could barely walk in the ridiculous shoes and did not want to attend a party wearing nothing but underwear.

However, Brittany's life options were severely limited by the fact that her mother kept her quite stupid (bimbos don't need smarts). Her teachers, too, simply pushed Brittany through the system because of her disability. Brittany had once argued with her guidance counselor that having big tits was not a disability, but the man had told her tits that they should leave such judgements to professionals, patted her on the head, and showed her out.

Now that Brittany was, technically, an adult, her mother explained to her that she would not allow Brittany to grow up being a cocktease.

"It's basically a guarantee," mother explained, "that no one is going to respect you. If you didn't have those whore melons, things might be different, but you do have them, and in addition to knowing that you're a bimbo, people are going to think of you as a cocktease, too."

"But I'm not a cocktease," Brittanny argued.

"Exactly," said mother, "Starting today you're not going to cocktease anyone. You've already been doing it for as long as you've had those tits. From now on, you're going to start acting like the cum target that you are."

"But I don't want to be a cum target," Brittany whined, "I don't even know what that is!"

"Of course you don't," mother said, patting her head, "You aren't very smart. If you're ever going to get anywhere in life with tits like those, you're going to have to learn to be a cock pleaser, not a cock teaser."

Mother did not see a need to explain this further, only shushing Brittany when the girl tried to get a solid answer as to what this meant. When Brittany continued to pester her about it throughout the day, mother sighed and put Brittany's gag ball into her mouth (the pink one with the little sparkles this time) to keep her quiet. She sat her in front of the TV, applied Brittany's favorite pink, fuzzy handcuffs, and started Brittany's favorite movie for her.

Brittany groaned as the long list of Britney Spears and Katy Perry songs began to play, a background track to the series of images and video clips. Big-breasted bimbos danced around in short skirts, bimbos sucked lollipops, bimbos giggled stupidly, and bimbos stared vapidly at the camera as they rubbed their pussies, with their tongues lolling from their mouths. It was not, in fact, Brittany's favorite movie. It was, however, the only type of movie Brittany was allowed to watch, as shows with actual plots, dialogue, or substance were far too advanced for someone with Brittany's disability to comprehend.

Guests began to arrive for the party, and as each one came in, they gave Brittany a demeaning little pat on the head and took photos of her cleavage.

"Don't let her cocktease you," mother told the guests, "She's been at that business for far too long. If she's ever going to be a useful cum target, you're going to have to help her learn."

Brittany mumbled into her gag. To help celebrate her new life as a cum target, the first of Brittany's "friends" stepped up and began to masturbate as Brittany mumbled, until he ejaculated on her face. The next of the party guests stepped up for a turn, helping himself to a handful of one of Brittany's tits as he jerked his cock off onto her face, rocketing semen across her gagged mouth. A third, then a fourth added their loads to Brittany's face, decorating it with spunk as they squeezed her melons. As more guests arrived, more guests plastered Brittany's face with cum, until her features were so glazed and her hair tangled with wads of dry sperm, that it was difficult to tell that there was a bimbo under the cake of jizz.

Once word got around that Brittany was no longer a cocktease, it became a regular occurrence for men to stop by and use their favorite cum target. Often, Brittany would need to aid them. As her mother explained, she couldn't just expect them to masturbate themselves onto her face or tits. It wasn't fair. She was the cocktease, after all, so it should be her responsibility to get the cum out of them. Brittany did not think that this was fair, but no one had any regard for the opinions of a set of tits.

Brittany was regularly pulled out of classes by her principal, one of the coaches, another teacher, even the janitors, so that she could be skullfucked until her face or tits were coated with cum. She would then be sent back to class. At home, Brittany was kept busy as neighbors, delivery men, or even Jehovah's Witnesses, pushed their hard cocks into Brittany's mouth and roughly pumped her bimbo suckhole in order to show her what a cocktease was good for. When she was out in public, it became quite common around town to see Brittany on her knees (wearing pink, glittery kneepads) having her head bounced off a wall, car door, or check-out stand, as someone used her mouth and throat.

Fortunately for Brittany, she was allowed to graduate. Since she had little in the way of prospects or a future, though, the town pitched in to help Brittany succeed in life. A referendum was passed, declaring her a public utility, and thus everyone who wanted to make use of her cunt or ass, in addition to the free use of her suckhole, merely added this service to their current utility bills.


 

Enjoy short content like this? Check out the story index for more Shorts!


You can also pick up the first volume of Slutty Shorts, a collection of ten short stories comprising 48,000 words of erotic content.


Want your shorts with a dark twist of incestuous exploitation? Pick up the ten-story collection Horrible Households: Taboo Tales of Incestuous Exploitation.



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