Author's Note: Story requested by KC55.
Jill had an unorthodox life to put it simply. Being quad breasted was unusual, though she knew more than a few people with the same condition, and she'd stayed a virgin throughout school and college, but she had friends that were the same. Neither of those qualified for strange really. It was her daily routine that few knew of, but was prevalent throughout.
That would be her orgasms. They weren't exceptionally powerful life some she heard about, nor were they hard to come by, in fact, it was the opposite. Hers were quick affairs, like a pinch but pleasant, however they came in droves. The first person she told about it claimed the same thing, that they came ten or twelve times just masturbating, yet were nowhere near Jill's level. Perhaps if she came a few hundred times, then she'd be more relatable.
"Fuck, that's a strong one," Jill murmured after she yawned, muscles clenching and triggering a powerful climax in the process. The sharp intake of air almost set off another. She scooted off her bed, cumming a little with each movement, and got up to relieve herself, resulting in few more bursts of pleasure. This was her existence; to cum over and over from the smallest, most menial action.
Yet she managed. Jill had a decent paying job in a maid café, her own apartment, a group of close friends and some nice acquaintances, and she even got along with her co-workers. School had been a nightmare, though. Her condition hadn't flared up until puberty was in full swing and, while growing her second pair of breasts had been tumultuous, they were paltry against the onslaught that faced her. Looking back, she laughed at when it first started and she had PE. Imagine trying to do a balancing act and cumming the whole time.
Since then, she'd adjusted. Parts of life were harder than others, such as brushing her teeth. The vibrations of her toothbrush, the bristles running along her teeth, and slight motion across her body sent her climax count skyrocketing. One... ten... twenty... usually she counted at least fifty before she rinsed out her mouth and had another. It'd become a habit early into her condition, to try keeping a mental tally of her orgasms.
Showering and drying and getting dressed brought the total to eighty that morning alone. Luckily, her clothes were made to be as light on her skin as was possible, denying her haywire nerves the stimulus they needed. Of course, she still needed her bra.
"Oh shit," she groaned as her four nipples scrunched up against the cups. Whether it was her condition or just natural, Jill's breasts refused to stop growing. And they were fast to boot. The J cups she bought two weeks ago were already snug, which meant disaster for someone like herself. With the cups and straps digging into her flesh, each little adjustment she made triggered another climax. She almost didn't bother with panties since they were usually drenched after an hour.
Without them, however, she risked living a trail. Last thing she wanted was someone slipping on her emissions, not that it was always possible to avoid. Maybe on a good day she'd get home without changing them, but most days she had at least one switch. Bad days forced her to keep at least four or five spares on hand. And today would absolutely be one of those days.
She'd lived with it for so long that she could just tell after waking up. Nevermind the bra, her sensitivity was racked up high that morning, and, in her expertise, it wouldn't diminish. Probably a 400 day, Jill thought as she came from putting her shoes on. The weather claimed it wouldn't be too windy at least, so her hair shouldn't trigger anything.
That was a fucking lie. Once at work, her once neat hair was a mess and her panties were already useless. Trails ran down her leggings, put in place to minimise outside sensation, and nearly sent her spiralling time after time. But work didn't care about how her morning went, so long as she still turned up. Jill changed into uniform, a traditional French Maid ensemble, which her leggings suited perfectly. The gloves helped too.
"Tough morning?" Samantha, a friend and co-worker, asked in the changing rooms.
"That obvious?" Jill sighed.
"Pretty much. Well, just gotta power through, right?"
"I'll try," Jill said and forced a smile. Not too wide, since straining those muscles alone could trigger her. Small mercies came to her in that she got to play as the 'indifferent maid', the kind that treated everyone courteously and little else. Expressing herself too much could have consequences.
As expected, work tormented her to no end. It was a Saturday, one of their busier days, and she was a popular choice of servers, as such she was always on the go. One table somehow thought they were on friendly terms and touched her arm during the lunch rush. The touch, and subsequent snap at the customer, brought her to her knees, shuddering through bliss until it passed. She made an excuse and left the dining room.
That made, by her count, 250 and she wasn't even halfway done with the day. Of that number, at least 10 were powerful ones, forcing her to change panties each time. She'd anticipated a lot, bringing a dozen or so with her, but she worried it would be enough. Jill took a slow breath to centre herself and returned to work, avoiding the grabby table. It didn't stop accidents from happening of course.
Sometimes it was just a small coincidence, like someone standing up when she was paying attention, or a co-worker rushing off for their break. The contact still froze Jill in place, waiting for her orgasm to pass. It was getting to be too much. Her tolerance was something to revere, but she had limits. Each climax almost made her moan, the urge worsening as the minutes and hours trickled by. If not for Samantha stepping in on occasion, she might've left early.
As it was, she stuck out the whole day. Sure, her pussy and nipples were throbbing from the constant stimulus, and she was at the end of her rope, but she'd done it. That's what mattered. Most customers were taken care of but one, though they seemed displeased by something. Last one, Jill thought and checked in.
"Everything alright, ma'am?" Jill asked.
"No, I'm afraid not. My meal is already cold and I ordered it half an hour ago," the customer snapped.
"Sorry about that, I'll take it and heat it up for you," Jill said, keeping her tone level as her training dictated. The food was still warm, but some people just wanted to stir trouble. As she began toward the kitchen, someone pushed their chair out. She stopped in time, but they picked that moment to stretch, arms extending straight toward her. Jill raised the plate to keep it away, but their hand wouldn't have come close as it lodged between her legs. Their momentum carried their hand straight to her treacherous pussy.
Jill never masturbated. She didn't have sex. She even avoided porn just in case that proved too much. Nothing justified her better than the moment the customer's hand struck her panties. It was just a little bit of pressure, but enough.
She yelled a moan and crumbled to the floor, plate falling in the process. The hand was gone an instant later, yet the pleasure persisted, flooding her body without end. Her inner walls clamped around nothing, rubbing together and jump started several more climaxes in the process. She fell to her back, writhing and moaning, bliss contorting her face into a hedonistic grin. It passed after a minute as her muscles exhausted themselves.
"Just what kind of crap is this?"
Jill winced at the voice of the customer she'd been helping, their order now a splatter on the floor. She looked up at their snarling face. What was their problem? It's not like the food couldn't be replaced, and it'd be hot and fresh too.
"I come here to eat and enjoy myself. How can I when sluts like you work here? Fucking disgusting. Where's your goddamn manager? I demand a comped meal after this shit."
"What's the big deal?" Jill snapped, the filter from brain to mouth snapped by her brutal climax, "I had an accident. No need to lose your head about."
"Oh, you fucking bitch..."
"Just please fuck off. It's been a long day, I don't need this," Jill said and pushed herself up, shaking from exhaustion. She just wanted the day to be over with, go home and wash off all the sweat and pussy juice she'd accumulated over the day.
"You've no idea what I am do you?"
"The customer is always right, but there's point in... oh..." Jill blinked at the glow coming from the woman's hands, while an ancient, dangerous language dripped from her lips.
"Jill!" Samantha called, footsteps rushing then stopped when she saw the light.
"NEC GAUDENS!" The witch cackled and the light condensed into a ball, which flew at Jill's body. She slapped it, though her effort was worthless, as it entered her all the same.
"What did you do?" Karen, Jill's manager, demanded after she summoned by the commotion.
"Just teaching her a lesson," the witch said, "She won't be cumming for twenty-four hours. That should teach..."
"Seriously?" Jill sprung up, beaming at the witch she'd once feared and disliked.
