The Bust - Epilogue, Part 2

We wrap up most of the farewell tour, touching bases with more of those who Sylvia has changed to see what the Impact has been. 1,100+ new words!

~dS

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Rhea’s butt boobs weren’t the only ones on display at Club Cantina. At this particular moment Trini had the mainstage pole gliding up and down between hers. The round full softness of her ass tits bulged to the left and right, her rear nipples wobbling wildly as she twerked against the silver shaft.

As she did this Trini looked out at the audience and winked. With the onset of her new jiggly butt boobs she’d done away with the thrift theme. Instead she was Tongueful Trini, and as she smiled at the hooting audience her long wet muscle slipped out of her mouth and snaked down towards the still-impressive breasts she was cradling in her arms.

Trini shuddered as she lapped at one of her nipples, and reached back and slapped one of her butt boobs. She palmed the stinging pain and gripped the hard nip facing the crowd. Both ends of her body quivered in delight from the sensation as money was thrown up onto the stage.

Part of Trini’s pleasure came from the gaze on her ass from ThunderGurl. Trini was one of the few dancers who ThunderGurl still hadn’t touched, but Trini certainly felt the sensation of a mouth sucking her free ass nipple as the pink clouded MC watched her.

“Make sure you give a tip as big as she made yours! Slap some skin for Tongueful Trini!” ThunderGurl announced. She had discovered that she could still influence tech that used touch controls, which gave her already constantly-pleasured existence intense little sparks each time she touched the pads. As Trini gathered up her cash and left the stage ThunderGurl cooed as she crossfaded the music tracks.

The booming bass of the music rolled through the club and caused pretty much everything the vibrate in beat. If one left an empty glass directly on the hardwood of the bar it could be heard buzzing across the surface. And that wasn’t the only thing that buzzed atop the bar; Sylvia had paid to move the golden Jane off her desk and down to the main floor, perching her atop the very center of Club Cantina’s bar.

Of course, the workmen didn’t know that each rough glove on her ass, or belt cinched over her hard nipples, was sending wave after wave of orgasm through Jane. Her orgasms were practically ceaseless from the moment she was lifted off the desk, strapped to a cart, and transported along the precarious path from her overhead office to the ground floor of the club she’d once run.

Placed on the bar, Jane’s golden ass now absorbed every bass vibration that rolled through the wood, ringing throughout her metal form and pulsing surges of bliss through her. But that was not all that Jane now dealt with inside her golden form. She was now, after all, a piece of erotic decor in a strip club bar.

Being splashed with beer and being felt up for social media photos was quickly the norm. It was only a few days after being placed where she was Jane got her first garage band promo sticker stuck to her ass. Drying sticky beer was already a steady source of arousal, but Jane thought she’d go mad from the sensation of the thin sheet glued to her sensitive skin. It was like a hot coal of unending sexual stimulation permanently pressed against her.

Then came the next one on her thigh. Then someone wrote their telephone number in marker on her calf, which was like a tattoo constantly stoking her libido. Another sticker was placed on the curve of her left breast, and a gel pen was used to color her nipple to the edges of her areola. Then came the chewed gum, stuck to the underside of Jane’s raised foot. The wet adhesion made her mind shudder so hard Jane thought she’d actually crack the stillness of her gilded body. It only became more and more incessant as additional wads were added, slowly encasing Jane’s toes and adding the pull of extra weight to Jane’s incessant silent titillation, her mind well-caught in a cycle of overlapping climaxes.

Perhaps the many sources of Jane’s extra arousal would have been better tended to if Marie had the time. But scraping clean the golden statue that would just get graffitied again that night wasn’t a high priority for her.

And the things that were a high priority the janitor-turned-French Maid couldn’t exactly get to quickly. The absurd heels that she minced around in kept Marie’s cleaning pace fairly slow. On top of that, the big boobs bouncing before her made sweeping a broom very difficult. She swept and dusted and emptied trash cans, all the while keeping her legs straight and bending at the hips.

When the club was open Marie primarily stayed backstage. Being backstage wasn’t just to keep her from being a distraction from the dancers. For a few days Marie had worked the front of the house while customers were about. But it was soon very clear that her productivity was suffering. The club was so packed that there were few places Marie could go where she wasn’t rubbing her back breasts against someone.

And when she did that Marie would practically drop to the floor from an overwhelming orgasm, French swears pouring from her sensitive mouth which only made her hornier while cumming intensely. Of course, that would just gather more attention around Marie, and while club goers knew not to touch anyone unless specifically told it was okay, that didn’t help much when Marie would just cum again from accidentally brushing her backwards bust against someone trying to help.

Of course, since the French Maid had wished to orgasm from anything touching her tacked-on tits, there was no bra or covering she could wear that wouldn’t elicit the same reaction for so long as she wore it.

So when the club was packed Marie tidied away from the crowds, but even then she was apt to encounter an orgasm or two. Sometimes it was forgetting how far she needed to walk around something before turning, and bumping her back boobs into door jams or pipes and collapsing into a cumming pile. Other times the dancers themselves could not resist playing with their sexy coworker, first driving Marie mad by pulling her in for a deep tongueful kiss on her sensitized lips that would drench her pussy, before reaching around and giving a rear breast a quick pinch.

It should come as no surprise that Marie had taken to sleeping on her belly, with a few pillows piled up to help level her out atop the enormous size she’d grown her original pair of tits.

So yes, the Club had probably not gotten cleaner thanks to Marie’s wish, but everyone was fine with helping to do their part if it meant enjoying Marie’s bounty. 

to be continued...