Always The Bridesmaid 1

Kendra was surrounded by a flock of voluble girls.

One girl relayed the time while another frantically hopped around the rented hotel suite. The rest were huddled together, fingers knotting as they each intruded on the attempts of the others. They were all trying to move the same zipper, each in a different manner than the previous. All were frantic as each set of fingers tried to wiggle and shimmy the zipper up its metal track. They commanded that Kendra suck it in, and in reply, Kendra breathlessly reminded them that there was nothing left to suck.

"Those are my ribs! They don't get smaller!" she barked even as the air was quickly leaving her. Blood was in her head, lighting up the freckled complexion with intense cranberry hues.

The four girls, Kendra included, deflated and the fastening for a black, mermaid style bridesmaid dress retreated to its original starting point. In the front, the lip of the semi-sweetheart styled gown peeled forward in retreat and two time-slowing jugs of flesh spilled forward like they were ready for play. As if everyone shared a consciousness, each girl sighed in unison and made an offhanded comment about how absurdly large Kendra's breasts were.

"I swear to god I didn't gain any weight," Kendra threw up her defense as quick as she could. She knew that each dress was tailor-made for each and every person participating in Claire's wedding. If the dress didn't fit, then the blame had to go to the either the tailor or the girl stuffing her puffy body into the tiny black sleeve. Almost everyone else had perfectly form-fitting dresses, so the tailor couldn't have been the problem.

"Maybe you're just bloated?" came Teresa, the last girl that had tried and failed to get the dress to stay put.

"Maybe you just ate something this morning like you weren't supposed to. The fast started last night, Kendra."

Kendra focused her attention on the back of the room where she met the scowl of Claire's younger sister Jasmine. Of all the girls in the wedding party, Jasmine was the least fit to be wearing a 'semi-sweetheart' anything. This was because she was both a royal bitch and as flat chested as could be. She had spent more pins and tape to keep the dress over her small B cups than the average kindergartener does during art class. She could have passed as a kindergartener compared to the girls she would be standing next to while her older sister exchanged vows in front of friends and family. Being barely eighteen and thin as a rail, Jasmine looked less like a picture of elegance and more like she tripped and fell into her mother's makeup bag.

And the bratty kid treatment had been consistent all day long. On an average day, Jasmine's rage was tolerable as she was just a gloomy, grumpy teenager. But this time, inside Kendra's nutrient deficient, hunger striking mind, she concluded that the little punk needed to be taught a lesson.

"If you've got a better idea, then say it instead of being a bitch about this. I would ask to use some pins, but you probably used them all on yourself, right?"

"You're one to talk about being 'pinned up'. You look like a walking porno with tits like that. If I were you, I'd be afraid of coming within two feet of anything sharp."

"At least I don't have to worry about being around anything 'sharp' when I'm with you, Jasmine. You're the dullest person I know."

"I hope you trip and suffocate on those airbags," Jasmine stood, a fist full of the front of her dress in her hand to keep it from falling.

"I hope I trip and suffocate you!" Kendra spat back.

When the red film finally cleared from her eyes, Kendra realized that Jasmine had stormed out of the twin bedroom changing area. The front door slammed angrily and every other girl in the room was quiet. The weight of the moment felt like a body-sized blood pressure reader and Kendra was in its midst being squeezed. Did Jasmine have all of that coming? Probably not; she was just being fussy. Did Kendra regret it? No. In fact, she felt worse about how it made her look in front of all of her friends. They had never seen her this way before and she didn't exactly know how to feel about it.

"Maybe that was a little much?" Benny, the tallest girl said.

"'Maybe'?" Teresa added with wide sweeps of her hands. "One of our bridesmaids just ran out the door and the other can't fit her mammoth melons inside her dress. The wedding's two hours away, guys. We have a schedule to keep."

"This is my fault," Kendra said, though there wasn't much remorse in her tone. She tried to keep her feelings as subdued as possible, despite the satisfaction she felt from getting a rise out of Jasmine.

"Damn straight it is! Ugh, what do we do? What do we do?! First off, no one tells Claire," Teresa's pupils became pinpricks as the stress got to her.

Even if she was legitimately stressed, her animated bouncing and rubbing of her hands accidentally made it look like a sketch comedy routine. Teresa had always been like this, Kendra remembered, and it was actually refreshing to be reminded of how little things had changed with time.

"That's if she hasn't already crossed paths with Jasmine," Kendra added.

"That can't happen! This is her special day."

It was true. This day was supposed to be about Claire and in thinking about her friend, Kendra started to feel attrition weaving into her elation. It more so annoyed her being there, but she couldn't really ignore the tinge. Then, as if stricken by lightning, she was inspired by a brilliant idea. She stopped Teresa from pacing and turned to the group of pessimistic looking childhood friends.

"I'll just go and apologize and bring Jasmine back. Claire doesn't have to know."

"And the dress?"

Kendra's hidden grin finally slipped out and looked more divisive than she had planned. To her joy, no one called her out on it. "That will take care of itself."

Jasmine couldn't help but feel like she was being watched. The sense that something was behind her was ever-present and aggravating. A few times it was her hair and another time it was one of the hotel staff. Every time it was some unimpressive manifestation of her imagination. Nothing was chasing her and no one was watching her. 'No one is watching me' she told herself. The sentiment seemed to echo in the spacious halls. That statement less of a comfort and more of a somber realization.

Her heeled feet pushed on, double time, as she rounded corner after corner. She needed some fresh air, and the closest place to get some was the rear bar out near the deck. She was by no means old enough to drink, but maybe if she took refuge in her made-up face and fancy dress and flexed her identity as maid of honor, the bartender might ignore how she still had the same body she did in middle school. Parallel to the thought, the spike of her black heel snagged part of the fishtail dress and the vesture was ripped from her hand, exposing her chest just as a member of room service passed on the left-hand side. It was a boy, Jasmine noticed, but he didn't seem to think twice. He walked on, his sunglasses defending his eyes from the snow blindness he might have suffered from catching the glare from a pure white sheet of human skin, and turned the corner from where Jasmine had just come. She had her top down passing by a guy in his twenties and he didn't even flinch! She wasn't embarrassed at all by this. All she could process was seething anger. She snatched up a wad of the dress, made sure that her nipples were covered, and changed course.

She may not be old enough to drink, but she could drive. The wind from a quick spin around the block was as good as a band-aid on a decapitated limb, but it was all she had to numb the pain.

She felt another pair of eyes on her back, but she was boiling and ready to punch a hole in a wall. Even if the boy from before changed his mind, she wouldn't care to humor him. She navigated the hallways like a trout might a stream - or a black dragon might a cave - and was near enough to the entrance to hear the sound of automatic swishing. A few feet in front of her on the right was the check-in counter and on the left was the main hall that led to the dining area where prepackaged snacks waited for guests of the condominium complex. She could even smell the outside; the smell of afternoon sun on pressure washed pavement, the moisture of an oncoming shower. Then, in a flash, it was all snatched away.

A vice wrenched her around her pencil waist. Another, before she could react, forced her chin upwards and wrapped around her neck. Her eyes bulged from the force as she realized in a panic that she only had one lung's worth of air to work with. She couldn't even see her assaulter but felt the superhuman strength keeping her in check. Was it the boy from before? Probably not. The binding choking off her breathing was definitely an arm, and there was no hair to be found on it. Plus, the smell that pushed above and around her seemed to come fresh from a garden; maybe a fruit tray? The figure was taller than her, but that didn't mean it had to be a guy and to top it all off, there came a warm billowing sensation that poured over her back starting at her shoulder blades. It seized her like a pillow of sorts and while her squirming body fought the snares that entrapped her, the linen soft pillows seemed to invite her deeper and deeper. She sank into it against her will like a lead stone was wrapped around her ankle as she was slowly being dragged into the darkness of the sea. Except there weren't stars in the sea. . . was she seeing stars?

It was already too late.

The first sensation Jasmine experienced after her blackout was the taste of saltiness. Then her forehead and shoulders started to tickle in lines and her eyes started to itch. She was alarmed and opened them but found that her hair was in the way and the itching from before had evolved into burning. She hissed as sweat dripped into her right eye from a blade in her hair. Her own sweat. Her good eye absorbed her surroundings and found them unfamiliar. The vast room was decorated with crystal fixtures and a huge circular bed. She noticed there was a jacuzzi tub in the same room and that there was a light coming from a crack in a door far off on her left.

Where was the hell she?

She went to stand up and yelped as she was snatched back onto the cushion of the seat she was in. Her wrists burned. In the darkness of the room she was able to look down and see that she had been restrained to a chair, but more importantly, her dress was gone! She was stark naked, bound to a chair too large for her to lift, in a room that had absolutely no AC. Her sweat continued to form in huge droplets and her mind racked with uncertainty. Should she cry for help? Or would that alert her captor. . .

What more could they do to her? She was already bound and helpless, stripped of everything. "H-hello?! Anybody?"

Silence. Her tongue felt like a dry cotton ball in her mouth as she tried again. "Is anybody there? Help me! Hello?!"

"Hold on, hold on. Jeez."

Did Jasmine's ears deceive her? She hoped so. The same sarcastic tone had been the one that sent her storming away only minutes - it felt like minutes, but it could have been hours. She couldn't gather how long she had been unconscious - ago. The slit at the end of the room widened and a figure slid out from behind the door. She couldn't tell who it was exactly. She could guess by the fact that it swayed and jiggled and by how her entire being seemed to reject it, that it was an unwelcome spirit.

"Always so grumpy, Jasmine. Just cause you look like a baby doesn't mean you need to act like one," Kendra flashed her teeth. She took short steps and eyed up the smaller girl. If this was a horror movie, she was the killer. "What a shame. Your sister would be so mad if she knew you were here instead of at her wedding."

Had she really missed the wedding? How long had she been out? Jasmine pulled at her arms, but they were properly laced behind her back. Her naked body started to feel grimy on the leather seat. "How long. . . did I miss it?"

"No," Kendra said, finding a place square in front of Jasmine. She crossed her arms and Jasmine noticed that Kendra was also in her brassy birthday suit. "Aww, you look so worried! You really think I would let you oversleep for your own sister's wedding?"

"You're shitty enough to kidnap me, strip me down, and tie me to a chair. Speaking of which, why don't you let me the fuck out of here?"

Jasmine bucked back and the chair she was in banged against the wall. Kendra watched the tantrum and shook her head, disappointed. Without words she came into Jasmine's space, ruby red locks of hair curling inward, framing her freckled face. Kendra leaned down and forced her knee between Jasmine's thighs, spreading them wide and balancing on the space in the center where the chair was exposed. She arched her body back, forming a long 'S' shape and narrowed her eyes at the girl in the chair. At this angle the height difference was obvious. She wanted Jasmine to know just how in control she was in this moment. When Jasmine's scowl didn't break, Kendra unfurled her hand and snatched Jasmine's face in her hands. Tension formed around her nose and mouth as she mulled over her next move, trying hard not to take her fury out in one go. She had no intention of hurting the little maid of honor, but that was because scaring the shit out of her was filling up the schedule.

"I don't like you," Kendra spat. Her usual emerald eyes evolved into a swampy, toxic version. "You act like you're some kind of tough shit when you aren't. You're still a little kid - a little, fucking kid. All you do is go around with your nose as high as a fucking kite, spewing condescending bullshit at the whole world like it's beneath you."

Jasmine had the words for her payback on her tongue. Without warning, they were forced back into her mouth as a thick, muffling body obscured her view. She saw a flash of pink and felt something pushing into her cheek that was the same size as a lengthened pencil eraser. She couldn't breathe, and the scent of organic fruits wafted over her. She knew for sure now that her captor had been Kendra. Now, this captor was smuggling her out again, but instead of using an arm and a tight headlock she was using a single enormous breast. Jasmine tried turning her neck away, but there was no relief on either side and her insubordinate voice was cut short before it could catch any air. Her bulging eyes searched for a way out and found none. She was being robbed her ability to talk back and it sucked - literally.

"Mmmmmmfhh! Hmmmmmmfff!" came her muted voice. She yelled and fought till her vision started to fill with tiny, white spots. She was ready to blink away into oblivion again when the pillow was yanked from her and air came rushing into her lungs.

Her long, blonde hair hung like the sail of a ship that was stranded in windless doldrums. She dry coughed, latching on to a growing strength in her body as her swimming vision returned to normal. Her eyes caught sight of the red mane of a true beast whose breasts were round and shaped like giant peaches. A single one of them was enough to cover her entire face and choke her out till she fainted; so massive and powerful. Jasmine despised them. . . but she also envied them.

"I'm going to show you what a mouth like yours is meant for," Kendra grinned devilishly.

"No don-. . . Mmmmmhhfffh!"

Kendra straddled Jasmine in the seat and sent her K cup chest directly into the nose of her victim. Just as she suspected, the first reaction was to struggle. Despite the kicking legs and the attempts at biting, Kendra took the experience in stride. She even placed a hand on the back of Jasmine's head and pulled her deeper and deeper till she felt a nose touching her sternum. Both her abundant assets hung off the back of Jasmine's shoulders and she relished the feeling of short, hot breaths filling the space between her cleavage. A tingling sensation came over her as her breasts were bombarded with muffled insults. The struggle itself was exactly what it took to turn Kendra on. She tilted her head to the side and watched the blond capped orb, comparing it and finding it smaller than each of her pinker, softer mounds. She felt so powerful, so sexy. Having a cute little girl like Jasmine trapped in her cleavage was bliss.

But she couldn't fully enjoy it. She felt the fight fading and the strength leaving the body that she had mounted. She pulled Jasmine away by her hair and stood up so that the young beauty could surface again. She did just that, with the same coughing and wheezing as before.

"You learn your lesson?" Kendra asked, hoping that she hadn't.

More wheezing. Jasmine raised her head and made a weakened face. "What. . . Lesson."

"These lessons," Kendra said. She pulled back enough and pawed the sides of her huge, sexy boobs in her hands. She radiated sex appeal, shaking her feminine blobs back and forth in a mesmerizing dance. She squeezed at them and moves them around, the subtle glisten of sweat serving to make them look even bigger and rounder. They were like two special toys, perfect tools for drawing out feelings of delight, and she swooned into the humid air like she is on the verge of climax. Just before granting Jasmine the pleasure of witnessing a tit-induced orgasm, Kendra seemed to flip a switch and returned to being just as clear-minded as ever. After ending the striptease - one that started out with no clothes on anyway - she eyeballed Jasmine and looked for any form of acceptance.

Kendra wasn't surprised by how Jasmine seemed to instantly understand. Her melons had a way of seducing anyone that watched for more than a few seconds. Little Jasmine had spunk, but no one that Kendra knew could be so close to her chest - nay, be surrounded on all sides by soft tit flesh - and come out without having lost some portion of their self-restraint. Jasmine's scowl may not have changed, but there was a softness in her eyes. Her thighs clenched tight like she had a yearning near her womanhood that needed addressing. She was no longer looking exclusively into her kidnapper's eyes. Instead, she chose to gawk at the giant K cup fun bags that dangled perilously just out of reach.

"You get it now?" Kendra asked rhetorically.

Jasmine's chin met her chest and came back up again.

"Good. Now, good little girls need to be good at being polite. Tell me three things that you love about me, Jasmine."

"No. . . way," she talked to Kendra's boobs.

"Punishment."

Kendra leaned forward, bracing her hands against the wall behind Jasmine. The action brought her weighty rack forward in a rush and the wall of supple lady lumps smothered the girl beneath them. Kendra let out a giggle when she detected the same reaction as before. She teased the little girl, rocking her body back and forth and letting the full weight of her chest bounce against Jasmine's face. The room was hot, but Kendra could tell that the blush on Jasmine's face was entirely due to her huge tits. She reveled in it, wanting to apply more and more pressure and test how far she could go with her little prisoner. She let her body even lower and submerged an entire head between her huge knockers, pushing down with all her might and squishing her boobies till they were flattened.

"Huh? What's that you say?" Kendra laughed when she felt vibrations in her cleavage. She reached in with one hand, pulled one of her sexy titties away, and found a trauma-stricken face peeping back at her.

"I said to stop! I can't breathe and it's h-. . . Hmmmmmmmmmmph!"

"Bad girl. I asked you for compliments," Kendra scolded.

Again she mounted up, using her hands to mash her globes on both sides. She held Jasmine there for a while, counting the seconds. When she lost count, due to her appreciating the sensation of holding a soft, little face in her cleavage, she just started over. She made sure to stop just before her human vibrator stopped entirely, opening up her cleavage enough so that Jasmine's eyes and nose poked out.