A Friend in Need

A Friend In Need

It was about a month ago on a Wednesday (I know it was a Wednesday, as my girlfriend Louise was attending her evening church group)  when I heard a knock at the door. Not expecting anyone, I was surprised to find my friend Jane on the doorstep, her face flushed red and streaked with tears. I quickly ushered her inside and placed a tender arm around her.

“Are you ok? What’s happened?”

Jane didn’t answer for a moment and instead clung to me, sobbing into my shoulder in huge gasping convulsions. Startled, I gently stroked her hair and reassured her, wondering what had put my normally confident and capable friend in such a state.

The two of us have been friends for a decade now, meeting in college during my second year. I have to admit I’ve always had a bit of a thing for her; long brown hair and a pretty face that complements her wide hips and rounded tummy, with very shapely GG breasts. Like so many women with gorgeously full figures she dislikes her body, which combined with her catholic upbringing has made her very reserved about sex; whenever a party conversation turns to the subject, you can be sure that Jane will be sat quietly in the corner, avoiding attention.

The two of us were soon sat down together with warm drinks, and with her permission I had added to each a generous measure whisky to try and settle her down. Armed with a box of tissues, Jane explained to me the ordeal she had been through  on her way home from working late as a probation officer: The quickest route to the bus stop from her office involves walking between two restaurants, its not exactly an alleyway but  neither is it a proper street. Tonight she had found herself roughly grabbed from behind by someone-a man-who had been waiting in ambush behind a wheelie bin, as she struggled he had forced his hand up under her blouse and groped her breasts, painfully pinching and squeezing them until she had managed to wrench herself away from him and flee.

I consoled her as best I could, and we steadily worked through the rest of the bottle of whisky while Jane railed against her work, speculated about which of her scumbag clients it had been , and demanded to know why men are so obsessed about tits; specifically hers.

“I don’t even like it when Matthew touches them, in fact I hate it.” She abruptly blurted out to me “I just hate this part of my body, everywhere I go men stare at me. Its like all I am is a pair of tits”.

She turned and looked at me, and our eyes locked together. “I want to be rid of them. Forever.”

Suddenly the atmosphere had turned deadly serious, and I felt an electric chill run down my back. “You mean, like a reduction?”

“No, I mean cut off completely. Right now. I can’t stand to have these things attached to me for a moment longer - its like there not even part of my body, just heavy sacks I have to carry around everywhere. They get sore, they hurt my back, I hate them!” She gently placed her hand on top of mine, and leaned in “Will you help me?”

I felt my cock harden at the thought of slicing off Jane’s fat tits, and told her I’d do the best I could to help. While she downed to couple more drinks, I scoured the house for anything I could think of that would be of use, and had soon assembled a collection of cut up towels hastily sterilised with a kettle of boiling water, bandages, pain killers and antiseptic. I held out a handful of differently shaped and coloured pills stolen from Louise’s prescription medicine draw and instructed Jane to take them, watching as she meekly swallowed each in turn.

“We’ll do this in the dining room, I’ll put newspaper down on the laminate floor. Get undressed and come through when your ready.”

“Undressed?”

“Anything either of us are wearing is going to get blood on it, we’ll both need to be naked if we’re going to do this now.”

Jane was clearly town between her desire to be ridden of her hated breasts, and wish to avoid being naked and alone with me. I was acutely aware that if she backed out now, my willingness to help her would make me look like some kind of psychopath. After a few seconds she came to a decision. “Ok, but you can’t watch me getting undressed.”

Relieved, I walked through to the kitchen and quickly disrobed. Turning my attention to the cutlery draw I pulled out the largest knives weighed the merits of each, a couple were quickly set aside; too small for the task at hand. Uncertain whether a clean or serrated edge would cut most efficiently, I finally decided on a wedge shaped chef’s knife and began to sharp it on a small whetstone before liberally sterilising it with antiseptic. The handle was nestled comfortably in my right hand, a bag of Store bought Ice cubes in the other as I step back through to the dining room. Jane was already there, stood naked facing the table with her hands covering her breasts  and public region, her cheeks blazing bright with embarrassment and trembling despite the fact it was not cold at all. She didn’t turn to face, resolute like a statue as I approached to spoon in behind her  and placing my held items on the table to either side of her.

Picking up the antiseptic and a flannel, reached around her and  slowly wiped her down. Placing my chin on her shoulder I savoured fondling her breasts for what would be both the first and last time before I destroyed them forever, and if she had managed to avoid noticing my rock hard cock thus far it was surely now impossible to be unaware of it poking her in the back now. I diligently cleaned underneath and around her massive mammaries, until I could wait no longer.

Through out it all, Jane had remained utterly silent save for her irregular, gasping breaths and I could see her eyes were closed. Now I seized my instrument  and took her right breast firmly in hand, lifting it up to expose where it met her torso.

“Ready?”

Jane scrunched her eyes tight and gave a little nod.

I ground my hips into her ass and pulled her up and towards me, arching her back  to raise her ribcage. With a powerful stroke of my arm  the blade carved into Jane’s tit-flesh and she bit back a shriek, her body suddenly rigid. Past the point of no return , I sliced into her breast  as rivulets of blood ran down her belly and thighs, filling the room with its distinctive coppery smell. With her nipple pinched between my fingers I  lifted up her breast and sawed at it until the sharp blade had severed it completely, and I instructed Jane to compress the wound with one of the towels while I placed the amputated organ in a bowl of water.

As I returned, Jane looked as white as a sheet. She looked at me, covered in blood, still holding the knife and with my raging hard-on pointed right at her. Our eyes locked together  for a long moment before she broke the spell.

“Lets finish this before I bleed to death.”

I took my position behind her once more, this time directing my cock between her thick thighs as I nestled in against her and grasped her remaining breast tightly. The blade sliced cleanly through her meat, my blood lubricated cock moving in time with it as I fucked her thighs. Finally liberated, I mashed  Jane’s disembodied tit into my face, sucking greedily on the nipple as I thrust away between  my friend’s legs. Jane collapsed exhausted  onto the bag of Ice I had laid out in readiness upon the table in front of her, I grabbed her hips to stop her from falling to the floor and instead raised her up and slid my cock fully into her cunt, her breast  dangling obscenely from my mouth as my teeth clamped down onto it and my tongue flicked across the still erect teat. With frenzied stokes I pounded her fuck-meat before being wracked with an orgasm that seemed to turn my balls inside out as I shot an enormous wad of cum deep into Jane’s cunt, my legs buckled from under me and I crashed to the floor, wincing with pain at the intensity of my release.

After what seem the longest time, we both started to slowly come to our senses. With gauze, tape, pads and bandages I dressed the wounds on her abused torso and allowed her to carefully wash herself in the shower while I dealt with the mess down stairs and quickly mopped the floor. When she came downstairs dressed, it was very curious to see her without that magnificent chest leading the way, but I was able to drive her home and  return well before Louise was due to arrive home.

I’m glad to have been able to help a friend when it really counted, and while I enjoy taking the two fat udders out the pickle jar I keep them in from time to time and playing with them, it was really about helping an awkward young woman feel comfortable with her body.

Which really is its own reward.