DD Debbie Takes The Cake
By Rob and Sceej
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"I can't believe it, Joyce. I mean, a bachelor party?" Cindy whined into the phone. "The very idea is so ... neanderthal! I really thought Jeff was more mature than that. The idea of him and his friends sitting around in OUR house, getting drunk and ogling some stripper - it just makes me furious! Bimbos like that, they really just degrade all women! It's like all the progress we've made over the last thirty years and we still have to deal with bitches who prostitute themselves for a few bucks! What I wouldn't give to get my hands on one of those sluts!"
"Look, Cindy, I don't mean to interfere but I can hear you feel strongly about this so .... I mean, Jeff's a good man and he's going to be a good husband, once he's trained, of course!"
"Trained ... ha ha! (Cindy chuckled) ... oh, Joyce, you are so right. But seriously, I can't forbid him and I'm tired of arguing about it. It's tonight! What else can I do?"
"Welllllll ... " purred Joyce. "Maybe we could engage in a little 'preemptive sabotage' ?"
"Sabotage?" questioned Cindy. "What do you mean?"
"Look, that house next door to Jeff's hasn't been sold yet, right? And the real estate agent left you a key, right? Well, if we were to switch the numbers on that door and Jeff's door, we could trick whatever simple-minded slut they've hired for the evening's entertainment and have a little talk with her, shall we say?"
"Oh, Joyce!" Cindy squealed, delighted. "That is perfect! You are soooo devious! I'll have Marge and Nancy come too! And I'll make a pitcher of margaritas. Oh, this is gonna be such fun. I can't WAIT to see the look on that bimbo's face when she sees the party we've got planned for her!"

MEANWHILE, ACROSS TOWN:

Debbie checked herself in her full length mirror, admiring her own shapely buttocks, displayed to full advantage in a hot pink thong bikini. "Perfect", she complimented herself out loud, "My butt is perfect! I hope those apes appreciate it!" How she hated doing bachelor parties! Still, the money was good and her modeling and acting careers had cooled of late. She examined her lush full double D breasts; frowning at the outline of the nipple rings which showed through her top. They sure weren't doing any good in getting classier work. She shuddered involuntarily as the memory of her last encounter with that bitch Joyce played across her mind.
A catastrophe - she'd lost her sugar daddy, Brad, was threatened with ruinous lawsuits and had had her nipples pierced involuntarily - in one fucking night! And the cost of getting the hard metal nipple rings removed! She'd had to go back to "dancing" and doing bachelor parties to raise the cash. Still, in another month, she'd have saved enough to get rid of the fucking things and then, the classy work would open up again.
She ran her hands through her lush black hair and pantomined a few of her standard moves, letting her hands run over her own plush mammaries. The key was to keep THEIR filthy hands off of her and that meant exuding a dangerous eroticism at all times. Hesitate and the creeps started feeling brave.
Debbie slipped a pair of hot pink Candies onto her feet to match her thong bikini and nails, wishing she had pumps instead. Not that her body wasn't perfect (in her mind, at least) but she was a little self conscious of her feet. Standing 5'6" tops, her feet - size 10 - were a little, well, they were big for her height. Well, they say Cindy Crawford has big feet too, she mused, and I'm much hotter than her, again admiring herself in the mirror.
The doorbell rang. Debbie clacked noisily down the hall. It was Ray and Matt, the guys from the agency. "You ready, Deb?" Ray asked. "No!" declared Debbie emphatically. "But, let's get going! The sooner I get there, the sooner I get out. Maybe they won't be so fucking drunk!"
The three walked out to a waiting van; Debbie sighing heavily whe she looked in the back. "A cake?" she groaned. "I gotta do the cake thing?" In the back of the van was an oversized "cake" of wood and tissue paper.
"That's what the customer wants, Princess,: chirped Matt. "We deliver you to the doorstep, inside the cake, ring the bell and leave. They take you inside. When you feel them put you down, hit your music and do your stuff. We come back and pick you up in two hours."
"One hour!" shot back Debbie. "I don't care what the contract says, you come back for me in one hour. These fucking assholes will probably be too wasted to even tell time!"
"All right ... calm down, Debbie!" replied Matt. "One hour, but it's your ass if DiNapoli gets a complaint about this. All right, look - we're here already. 21 Smith Avenue - red brick home, white door!"
"Dude, open your eyes," chuckled Ray. "That says 23 Smith, man! 21 is the next house down!"
"Great, just fucking great!" Debbie rolled her eyes. "You guys can't even get the address right? What do you think happens to me if you ring that bell and some fat old housewife or axe murderer opens the door? I hope you can at least tell time, be back in one hour - not a second more!"
"Relax, Debs," Ray grunted as he and Matt unloaded the cake out of the van and placed it in front of the door at "21 Smith Avenue". "Now get inside and let the party begin!"
"Yo, Debs, when'd you have your nipples pierced?" wondered Matt, noticing the twin outlines. "Looks way sexy!"
"I didn't..." Debbie sputtered, "That is ... oh, never fucking mind! It's none of your damn business!"
"Chill, Deb!" replied Matt defensively, then, gesturing to the giant cake, "Your carriage awaits, madame!"
"I hate this shit!" muttered Debbie as she climbed into the faux pastry, "I just got a bad feeling about this one, I really do!" The lid came down and from within the cake, Debbie signed. "All right, ring the fucking bell! I've done this before - how fucking bad could it be?"

Joyce, Cindy, Marge and Nancy were chattering excitedly, secreted in the sparsely furnished house, waiting for their guest to arrive ... suddenly - the doorbell! As previously planned, Marge hurried upstairs and peered tentatively down from a darkened window. She was fairly squealing with delight as she raced down the stairs.
"You guys are not going to believe this!" she gushed excitedly. "Two guys just left a big cake outside!"
"A cake?" Joyce replied increduously. "The bimbo is actually going to jump out of a cake? What is this - the 1950s? Well, I guess we better get it inside. Marge, got your camcorder ready? I want to see the bitch's face when she "pops" out and sees us - that oughta be priceless!"
Straining with effort, Joyce, Cindy and Nancy managed to lift the heavy contraption and wrestle it down the hall to the bare living room, albeit with no small jostling of the "contents." At one point, a female voice hissed from within "Owwww! Be careful, you clumsy fucks!" Cindy had to clamp a hand over her mouth to keep from giggling aloud. The set the "cake" down heavily in the center of the room: the four women formed a circle around it as planned, arms folded across their chests, scowling angrily.

Inside, Debbie was confused (a common enough occurence for the bubble-headed brunette). "Damn, they're so quiet!" she thought to herself. "Where's the usual screaming and whooping? Oh, well, maybe that's a good sign! Maybe they're all old geezers!" Then, gathering herself, she counted softly "Five ... four ... uh, three ... two ... one ...."
"SURPRISE!!" Double D Debbie burst up from the cake, her massive melons jiggling, a fake grin plastered on her pretty face ... and found herself staring directly into Cindy's sour face.
"Surprise yourself, slut!" Cindy answered flatly.
"Uhm ... I .. that is ... Debbie stammered. "I ... uh ... think I'm at the wrong address? I'm supposed to be at a bachelor party?"
"Oh, this is the right address, tramp!" replied Cindy coldly. "You see, I'm the bride-to-be and I don't appreciate my fiance ogling some cow-titted bitch when he should be thinking about me. So we're going to have a little different party than you expected, whore! You have a problem with that?"
Just when Debbie thought things couldn't get any worse, a dreadfully familiar voice and laugh sounded behind her. "I don't believe it! I can't fucking believe it - it's really you! Long time, no see, Titsie!"
"Oh ... Oh G-G-God ... it can't be ...It can't be her!" Debbie stammered, her lower lip quivering.
"Hiya, Boobsie!" grinned Joyce. "Fancy meeting you here! Got a new line of work, I see. Really suits your 'talents" ha-ha. Both of them! But, oh, how rude of me. Let me introduce you to the girls. This is Nancy .. she's a professor of Womyn's Studies over at the college. And this is Marge ... she's a police lieutenant ... and this is Cindy ... you've sort of met already. Cindy's getting married next week. She's the one whose fiance you were planning to shake those fat cans for. Girls, this is Debra - also known as Double D Debbie!"
"Disgusting!" sniffed Nancy. "A walking, talking affront to every independent woman alive!"
"Uh, I gotta go ... " Debbie began climbing awkwardly out of the cake. "Uh ... they'll be expecting me at (Cindy shot her a look of pure hatred) .. that is ... what I mean ... "
Joyce laughed once, clear and loud. "You're kidding, right?" she asked. "I mean, not even you can be that dense!" Joyce took slow deliberate strides forward and Debbie began backing up. "You don't seriously think you're going to just walk out of here, do you? After what you tried to pull?"
"D-D-Don't you come near me ..." Debbie stammered, tottering clumsily as she moved backward in her high heels. "Don't come near me .... keep y-your distance ... I d-d-don't want any trouble ... not one step closer .. I'm (ulp!) warning you ... oof, what the ...? Debra had backed into Cindy - she turned her back on her old tormentor to plead with the cold-eyed woman. "Look ... I-I-I didn't know ... I just .. oh, please, won't you say something!?"
"Sure!" Cindy deadpanned. "Kick her slutty ass, Joyce!"
"Your wish is my command, madam!" chuckled Joyce, delivering a stinging slap to Debbie's shapely ass, causing the stripper to instinctively turn and face her. Joyce snapped a stinging jab to Debbie's perky nose, reddening it visibly. Debbie looked apprehensively at the other three women, all of whom wore smug grins. "Worry about me, Cow-Tits, not them!" assured Joyce. "This is gonna be one on one - you and me - like old times!"
Slightly heartened that she would not be fighting four women, Debbie raised her hands into a rather tentative defensive stance, trying to protect her pretty face. Joyce feinted a right hand lead to the head and Debbie cringed inward, leaving her flanks and midriff exposed - just as Joyce had planned. The limber blonde punished the top-heavy brunette with a left right left right combination to the body. Debbie grunted audibly in response to each thudding blow.
"OOOOOFFFFF ... what are you ... OOOOHHHH ... please, I ... HUUFFFF .... UGGGGHHH! .. no, not the ...OOOOWWWW ... ohhh, it hurts! It huuuurrrts ..." the brunette beauty whined. Joyce's friends applauded and the blonde backed off, taking a theatrical bow at the waist. She was enjoying herself and was in no hurry to finish off the blubbering Debbie.
But when Joyce bowed, Debbie saw red! She also saw opportunity! She attempted to rush forward to capitalize on Joyce's vunerable position but string bikinis and Candies are designed for looks, not speed! She managed to land only a cuffing overhand right to Joyce's shoulder.
"Owwww ... it hurts!" mugged Joyce, deliberately mocking her opponent's recent display. Emotion got the better of intelligence (a scare enough commodity in Debbie's empty head) and the chesty brunette bulled forward. head down, wildly windmilling punches - a good number of which fell a good foot short of her grinning opponent; the balance of which Joyce deflected with her elbows.
Debbie was left bent at the waist, panting for air. Theatrically Joyce stepped behind the spent, gasping stripper and plucked the knots which fastened Debbie's top. "Voila!" teased Joyce as she whipped off the pink bikini top and Debbie's pendulous tits plopped free.
Instinctively Debbie covered her bared breasts ... and was rewarded with a left to her nose, left and right to the midriff and a painful left hook to the jaw which staggered the already loopy brunette.
"The body - the body..." Marge's voice rung out over the more general jeering and cackling of the other women. Joyce winked at her and began to methodically bombard Debbie's midriff and ribs. While her figure was undeniably shapely, Debbie was not overly firm and the punches landed with audible thuds and splats. Systematically, Joyce pounded the will to fight clean out of Double D Debbie until the gorgeous brunette simply stood there, arms at her sides - beaten, exhausted, meekly trying to cover her rapidly reddening flanks and midriff.
At last, Joyce stepped back, breathing heavily herself but beaming with satisfaction. "Barbequed ribs, anyone?" she joked and her friends laughed heartily. "And now ... Cindy, would you care to do the honors?" Joyce gestured toward the already thoroughly beaten Debbie.
"With pleasure!" replied Cindy and the bride-to-be took her position directly in front of the sobbing wreck of a stripper. She punched Debbie's left breast tentatively, using a downward trajectory and then noted how the fleshy orb flattened slightly, then sprang back. She followed this up with a similar blow to Debbie's right tit with similar results. In seconds, Cindy established a circular rhythmic pattern, gradually increasing in speed until Debbie's meat melons flopped like twin speed bags.
"Work it, Cindy, work it!" cheered Marge.
"Ow, that had to hurt! You go girl!" Nancy encouraged.
"Oooo - owww! Ahhh (sob!)... owwwww - it huuuurrrts!" whimpered Debbie helplessly. "M-M-my poor poor titties - oowwwwooo ... you-you're killing meee!"
"Shut up, bitch!" snarled Cindy, delivering a particularly savage uppercut. "These fat udders oughtta be able to stand a little workout. Hell, I'm sure they get handled rougher than this on an average Saturday night, you cheap slut!"
"Damn, Chesty, you don't look too good!" Joyce remarked, her voice syrupy with false concern. "Those big prize hams of yours are turning pink!" Then adopting a mock British accent, Joyce addressed Cindy. "Cindy, my dear, do you mind if I (heh heh!) cut in?"
The pretty redhead stepped back from her victim. "Why, be my guest, dear Joyce!" was her flowery reply.
Doube D Debbie was a wreck! Just a few minutes ago, she had looked like a Playboy centerfold. Now her hair was matted, mascara tears streaked her pretty face, her body glistened with sweat... and her huge knockers were a veritable rainbow of black, blue, purple, red and pink. "Stick out your chin, you fat stupid cow!" Joyce ordered. Debbie was barely able to stand but she whimpered, then meekly complied.
"Time to bring down the curtain on your little strip show, whore!" chuckled Joyce, winding up and blasting a tremendous uppercut which sent Debbie sprawling. The stripper wound up seated on her ample rump, one shoe off, a goofy orgasmic grin on her face as the birdies sang around her head.
Cindy, Marge and Nancy whooped with glee and exchanged high fives but Joyce cut the celebration short. "Help me get her back into the cake!" Joyce grunted, grabbing Debbie under her arms. "Wow, she's heavy!"

EPILOGUE

The minivan pulled silently down the alley, carefully skirting a number of motorcycles, halting outside a dimly lit doorway. A sign above the door read "DIESEL DYKES MOTORCYCLE CLUB". A tall heavy woman with short spiked hair eyed the van disdainfully. "You girls lost or somethin?" she spat.
"No, I don't think so!" answered Nancy brightly. "This is the headquarters of the .. er ... Diesel Dykes, it that correct? This is where the party is, is it not?"
"Yes to the first, no to the second, now come on, get the fuck out of here!" the big woman ordered gruffly.
"I'm afraid you don't understand, madam! We are the caterers!" Nancy continued as the other three opened the rear of the van and began unloading .. a massive wooden cake.
"Caterers? What the fuck are you talking about? What you got there?" she demanded, striding forward purposefully.
"Just a peek!" Marge urged, cracking the lid of the cake. "You don't want to spoil your appetite!" The brawny woman peered down and saw a beautiful busty brunette, gagged, topless and with her hands tied behind her back. Her mouth was stuffed with the remains of a hot pink bra. The big woman grinned her approval.
"I'll take it from here, ladies," the bruiser smiled, even tipping Nancy twenty dollars! "Hey! Spike!" she bellowed into the door. "Get yer ass out here - I need some help with a delivery!" Even as she spoke, the van was slipping silently down the alley, leaving a trail of high-pitched giggles in its wake.