The Biggest Tits in the World

by

Caution: This Horror Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Horror, FemaleDom, Lactation, Caution, .

Desc: Horror Sex Story: Two men discover the sinister secret of a Hamburg strip club



"Fuck me, those are the biggest tits in the world."

Russell Nolan didn't know what to say. He sat there and stared at the blonde stripper, his mouth agape.

They were balloons. That was the only description that seemed apt. The girl had stepped out on stage with two large, flesh-coloured balloons attached to her chest. Dark pink nipples wobbled at the centre of each enormous breast.

"Fuck, who'd have thought that drug-addled muppet was actually telling the truth for a change."


"Hey, isn't this that place Stuey was talking about?" Russell asked.

"Don't tell me you believe that story," Jack Meyer snorted disdainfully. "Girls with breasts the size of beach balls, yeah right."

They stood outside a sleazy little club somewhere down a side street off Reeperbahn. A short yellow sign promising 'XXX Sex!' and 'Live Nude Girls!' stood in the middle of the alley. Equally lurid slogans were lit up on the fascia of the club. Faded pictures of girls of varying degrees of attractiveness and in varying degrees of undress were displayed in glass cabinets on either side of the entrance.

It looked a seedy little dive, same as all the other seedy little clubs and sex shops they'd seen while walking down Reeperbahn. They wouldn't have paid it a second glance had Russell not noticed the name, 'Gomorrah', over the door and recalled Stuey's story from the pub that lunchtime.

"Fucking odd name for a strip club," Jack said. "Is it German for something?"

"No. It's from the bible you twonk," Russell said. "A town where the people got up to so much wickedness God burnt it to the ground."

"Wickedness, eh," Jack said, "I reckon it's the time o'night where I might be up for a bit o'that." He nudged Russell with his elbow.

"It's always that time o'night for you," Russell said.

It was fucking late as far as he was concerned, but he needed a piss and he didn't want to worry about some overzealous police officer cracking him on the back of the head while he pissed up a wall. The officious little pricks were already out in force, what with the big Champion's League match tomorrow, and looking for any excuse to bang up travelling fans.

They paid the entrance fee to some nasty streak of krautness on the door and headed down into the dark, sweaty interior of the club. The stairs were tacky and stuck to the soles of Russell's shoes.

Inside was pretty much as Russell expected. A naked girl gyrated around a pole and while she wasn't exactly bad looking, her eyes gleamed with a hunger he found a little unsettling. He was used to seeing his strippers look plain bored. Other girls were hidden in the shadows on the other side of the room, only the embers of their lighted cigarettes providing any indication they were there at all.

There was at least one positive in the voice of the announcer. It was smooth and sultry, like velvet. She spoke into the mic like she was pleasuring it.

Because it was late, or maybe because the club was just a straight-up shit-hole, the only other punters were a pair of drunken British tourists and a twitchy bloke with too much facial hair.

"Two to one they wake up tomorrow without their wallets," Jack said.

The other lads were definitely the worse for wear. Both were staring blearily around the room and trying not to nod off in their beers. The twitchy guy just looked nuts. He stared around the room with mad eyes and nursed his drink like it was his life savings.

Russell took a leak in a small, filthy toilet and returned to a beer that was maybe a few degrees below room temperature. He and Jack sat and supped their beers while not much at all happened. Cigarettes continued to glow in the shadows at the far end of the room, crap euro-pop continued to pump out of squeaky speakers and the stage remained conspicuously empty.

So it was one of those places, Russell thought.

"Fuck this right off," Jack said, draining the last of his warm lager.

Then the music changed and the announcer came back on.

"Gentlemen, we have a special treat for you," she whispered into the mic in sultry, accented English. "Yes, it's time for a show from our very own Mistress Eve Satana."

Russell and Jack paused.

"Now I know you naughty boys think you've seen tits, but I can guarantee you've never seen tits like these before."

So was this the girl Stuey had got all excited about?

"Prepare yourself for the peaks of pleasure, the boobs of bliss, the mammaries of majesty. Please give a warm welcome to the incomparable Madam Eve Satana."

"Evens she's over forty with tits hanging down to her knees," Jack chuckled.

Jack lost that bet.

"Fuck me, those are the biggest tits in the world," he repeated.

"They can't be real," Russell said.

"Well d'uh," Jack laughed.

"No, I mean they can't be unreal real," Russell said. "They're too big. It's got to be a trick of some kind. They like their weird shows here, you remember that strip club we walked past, with the photos of the girls all made-up like vampires."

"Seems a lot of effort for a shit-hole like this," Jack said

That left what? She was a freak of nature.

They were enormous. Stuey really hadn't been that far off with his talk of beach balls. Russell had no idea how she could even carry the weight. They had to be heavy, yet she showed no sign of it. Neither they nor she sagged in any discernible way. She remained perfectly upright throughout and moved with a surprising amount of grace. Her dance, if it could be described as such, involved her walking to the pole and rubbing her breasts up and down it, but she showed such poise, such precise control over her movements, that she made the more active strippers Russell had seen in other clubs look like clumsy amateurs.

Every movement exuded eroticism and she wasn't afraid to meet and challenge the stares of the men watching her. Her directness unnerved Russell a little, scared him even.

Jack was completely entranced. He couldn't look away as she lay on the stage and moved her hips up and down as she humped the floor. Her breasts were so big they rested under her like those exercise balls Russell occasionally saw advertised on TV. She bounced and stared suggestively in their direction, a pink tongue running over her full pink lips.

"Fuck, what I'd give to be under those right now," Jack said wistfully.

"I'd rather be on top," Russell said.

"Oh yeah, bouncy," Jack chuckled, nudging Russell with his elbow.

"Fuck that, I'm worried about being flattened," Russell

Even though her breasts were gigantic, the rest of the blonde stripper's body was surprisingly trim. Without them she'd still be eye-catching.

"Some of these clubs are a bit more, if you know what I mean," Jack said. "What do you reckon... ?" he asked.

"Don't be fucking daft," Russell said. "The missus would murder me if she found out. And she would, don't ask me how. It's bad enough I've got to worry about one of you twonks letting slip with what we've already got up to this week."

"You let her boss you around too much," Jack guffawed.

The stripper with the enormous breasts got up, blew them a kiss and then walked off behind the curtain at the back of the stage. Jack's gaze followed her all the way.

Russell thought that would be the end of the evening, but Jack flagged down a skimpily-clad waitress and ordered another couple of beers. Oh well, he couldn't exactly let beer go to waste.

They were about a third of the way through their drinks when the sultry-voiced announcer sidled up and insinuated herself on the seat next to Russell.

"Eh up," Jack muttered into his pint.

"Hello. British?" she asked, her voice smooth like velvet.

They nodded in reply.

She was quite attractive. Her willowy body was hidden behind a purple, crushed velvet dress, probably to distinguish herself from the other girls in the club. Her dusky face was curtained on either side by waterfalls of tight black ringlets. Gypsy stock maybe, Russell thought.

"Here for the fussball?"

They nodded again.

"The whole city is excited about the match," the girl continued. "I hope our boys put up a good fight, but I fear they are a little outmatched."

"Hamburger SV are a good side," Jack said, "they don't have the money of Liverpool though."

The announcer leaned forward. "I hope they lose," she whispered conspiratorially. "Happy tourists are generous tourists."

"Business first, eh," Jack said.

"Always," the announcer smiled, her eyes twinkling.

And what exactly was that business? Russell thought. Over on the other table a girl was sitting on either side of the drunken British lads, although they seemed too inebriated to notice.

"I have a proposal for you," she said.

"Here it comes," Jack said.

The announcer glanced at Jack.

"Don't mind me luv," Jack said, holding out his hands. "Go right ahead."

The announcer opened her mouth to speak.

"No," Jack cut her off. He guffawed and nudged Russell.

The announcer looked quizzically at him.

"Sorry luv. We know all about Hamburg. A friend of ours paid out four hundred euros last night and only got a hand job. I don't intend adding a hundred euro glass of shit champagne to the Reeperbahn tourist tax."

Russell waited for an explosion that never came. Instead the girl just smiled sadly.

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Story tagged with:
Ma/Fa / Horror / FemaleDom / Lactation / Caution /