This story takes place within the context of the MASTER’S WORLD Universe. However, unlike the serial “Welcome to My World” and other stories in that universe to date, this story takes place on Earth, not on the Master’s private paradise planet. You can read this story without having read anything else in that Universe.
It was never supposed to happen. I know that now. The two young sisters, four months pregnant, and with such enormous breasts, were supposed to stay hidden in the safe house in the woods. No one except the man who put them there was supposed to know about them. And they were not supposed to be able to wander more than thirty feet from the house. The security systems were supposed to prevent that. But the systems didn’t, and the girls did, and that’s how a dirty old man like me got to enjoy the most earthshattering sex imaginable.
But I’m getting ahead of myself. Let me begin at the beginning. My name is Steven Olsen. I’m pushing 50 and I’m no prize in the looks department. I’ve had my share of women—good, bad, and indifferent. After my early and too-hasty marriage crashed and burned a dozen years ago, I played the field until I got tired of the games, the bitchy attitudes, and the poor prospect for anything better. So I took my balls and went home. Home to my internet, my porn collection, and my fantasies.
All men have sex fantasies. They begin when you’re a boy and only become more elaborate as you grow older. I’m old enough to remember the pre-internet age. I used to buy titty magazines at sleazy stores. Sometimes I ordered more through the mail from ads I found in the back of those magazines.
When the internet came along, it quickly became the information superhighway of porn. All kinds. Every kind you could possibly want. Including my favorite kind: big tits. And I mean REALLY BIG TITS! The kind of tits that are considered to be a medical condition. A deformity. Tits so big that some women go to doctors to have their breast size reduced. Horrors! No, not the horror that these women suffer from backaches, heart problems, and increased susceptibility to other disease. I don’t’ give a fuck about that. The horror is that any women graced with god-given gigantic breasts would dare to have them reduced. Sacrilege! Breast reduction surgery is a crime against mankind!
I looked for every website I could find that had photos and videos of women with big breasts, macromastic breasts, and the queen of them all, gigantomastic breasts. What’s the difference between these? Size, mostly. There are some vague medical measurements other than tit size also. But again, I don’t give a fuck about those. All I care about is massive breasts, how they look, how they feel to my touch, and what I can do with them.
You know, it’s not easy to find women who have really big breasts but are not also obese. I don’t want some fat pig with big tits. I want beautiful, shapely women with large breasts. The larger the better. Big breasts, macromastic breasts, gigantomastic breasts. I scoured the internet for every one I could find. They were the rarest of the rare. I got all the photos and videos I could find of them. Then I settled in to enjoy them, every night, and twice on Sundays.
Meanwhile I worked at a decent enough job, but took little satisfaction in it. When my grandfather died and left me his house in the woods and a bunch a rental properties nearby, I cashed in my chips and moved out here to the middle of nowhere. Well, these days with the internet and Amazon, even the middle of nowhere is connected to the great, wide world. So with the inheritance, the rental income, and a free place to live, I became able to enjoy a comfortable life as a modern hermit. I was the old man in the woods with a ton of porn and a big screen to watch it on.
My world changed the day I rented out the house in the woods some ways back from mine. I never met the renter. He used lawyers and agents, paid a year’s rent in advance, and didn’t ask for anything else. So neither did I. I figured he was either a recluse like me, or else he had his own reasons for wanting privacy. But I was not about to get pulled into something sketchy either. I knew how to test the air for tell-tale meth lab chemicals and similar stuff. Nothing turned up. I did a little discreet eavesdropping with listening devices, telescopic cameras, and my own dogs. All I saw was a few people through window curtains that hid more than they revealed. That and the fact that he had installed his own security systems. When my dogs got close, alarms went off. I called them back and we went home.
Then things got really strange. There was a knock on my door. That never happens. It shouldn’t happen without my dogs barking their damned heads off first. And no one gets past those dogs to knock on the door in the first place. But someone did. And the dogs were silent. Asleep, in fact.
I was in no mood to be disturbed. I was lying on my couch with my pants around my ankles while I watched my latest gigantomastic video on the big screen. The video was of an amazing woman from Eastern Europe. She was at a beach. She wore a bathing suit that barely contained her gigantomastic breasts. I was imagining my cock between her enormous, naked, pendulous breasts, thrusting upwards to her mouth where her tongue waited eagerly to like my dick. I was in a stroke frenzy when the knock came. I almost fell off the couch. I quickly pulled up my pants. Not sure who could be out there or why my dogs were silent, I almost panicked. I grabbed my Glock pistol, flipped the safety off, and went to a side window that gave me a view of the porch and the front door. What I saw almost made me shoot myself in the foot.
Standing outside my door was a pair of young women with breasts even bigger than the East European woman I had just been watching. What’s more, these girls were much younger, much prettier, and obviously pregnant. I couldn’t be sure of their breast size by just looking, but I estimated that their bustlines must have measured well over 50 inches. (As I later found out, both girls had breasts that measured 58-inches and filled MM-cup bras.)
I took a deep breath, rubbed my eyes, shook my head, and then looked again. They were still there. This was no mental hallucination. These young beauties could not have been older than 20 or so. One was a blonde with long golden hair and a peaches and cream complexion. The other was a blondish redhead with skin white as snow. Their beautiful faces were similar enough that I figured they must be sisters. Their eyes were a deep, rich blue. Both of these young women could have had careers in Hollywood, or in modeling. The two girls were wearing loose-fitting white dresses with red polka dots made for pregnant women. I put my gun in a drawer and hastened to open the door.
As soon as I opened the door, both young women smiled at me nervously. The blonde spoke first. “Hello, sir” she said. “We’re very sorry to bother you. My name is Joanna.” She gestured to the young redhead standing next to her. “This is my sister Susanna.”
The redhead nodded her chin respectfully. “We don’t wish to disturb you, sir. But we need help.”
There was something odd about these young women. They were too polite. Not that politeness is bad. It’s just so rare these days that it stands out like a sore thumb in our sorry world. And they didn’t seem to be faking, either. The blonde and the redhead were beautiful but seemingly unaware of that fact. They didn’t have the haughty look typical of young beauties who were used to getting their way with just a smile. These young women seemed earnest and polite. They seemed like fresh flowers that are too pure for the grungy world we live in today.
Joanna, the golden blonde, wrung her hands nervously. “Sir, we don’t know what to do. Our Owner was supposed to come for us, but he’s late. We waited and waited. We don’t know what to do!”
I stood there staring at them, dumbstruck. Owner? What did she mean?
Then Susanna, the blondish redhead, spoke up. “He left us here with plenty of supplies while he was to begin preparing some new bitches for his harem. We were supposed to help him with that.”
My jaw went slack. Their Owner was looking for new bitches? For his harem? What had I stumbled into?!
Seeing my state of confusion, Joanna leaned forward, her long golden blonde hanging down, and touched my hand. “Sir, I hope we didn’t upset you. May we come in?”
Joanna’s hand was warm and soft. I nodded my head, unable to think of which question to ask from zillions that were swirling like a tornado through my brain. I stepped aside. The two sisters in their white dresses with red polka dots walked past me into my front room. I closed the door, and then they turned around to face me.
Susanna, the blondish redhead, bit her lip, then opened her mouth and ran her tongue over her lips. “Sir, we’re lost and afraid. Our Master, the man who owns us, is our reason for being. We don’t know what to do without him. He’s been gone nearly a week. He was supposed to return after one day away.”
Joanna nodded her golden blonde head and rubbed her pregnant belly as she added “He implanted these embryos in us. We’re both carrying twin girls. The next generation for his harem.”
Susanna ran a hand through her blondish red hair, tilted her head, and sighed. “Master loves us, just like he loves all his sex slaves. He programmed us to please him in every way.” She drew a deep breath, and then exhaled with a sigh. “It was never supposed to come to this. Being without him, I mean.”
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