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Message-ID: <37888asstr$1029507004@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Tom Thumper" <tom9211@hotmail.com>
Mime-Version: 1.0
Subject: {ASSM} Betty Boot's Big Bust {T Thumper} (M+F)
Date: Fri, 16 Aug 2002 10:10:04 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

             Betty Boots' Big Bust
              by Tom Thumper


Betty Boots had just finishing re-applying her lipstick
after Mr. Largeski's training session when she heard a
crash from the back of the Fantasy Factory warehouse.

"Golly!"  Betty leapt to her feet, spilling her fashion
magazines over the floor.  There was another thunk and then
Betty was sure she heard voices.  She gulped and tugged her
little white t-shirt straight.  The big black letters
SECURITY stretched across her large breasts.  She was
slender, except for those darn breasts!  Betty had asked
Mr. Largeski if there were any larger sizes in uniforms but
had gotten extra training for her impertinence.

She pushed her cap over her long red hair, straightened her
gun belt around her broad hips and dashed down the hall
wall, thumping her chunky black boots.

On her first night as a security guard, Betty had heard a
strange cry, like a woman in pain, and then the sound of
something shaking fiercely.  She panicked and pressed the
alarm button immediately.  The police and Mr. Largeski, in
his bathrobe, arrived ten minutes later.  She had been so
embarrassed when it turned out to be a box of vibrators
going off under a novelty 'orgasm in a box'.

"Largeski," laughed one of the officers as they got back
into their patrol car.  "What is she doing guarding your
warehouse?  She should be in one of your stores!"

"She was," growled Mr. Largeski, one of his signature
cigars clenched between his teeth.  He was a powerful man,
in his fifties, with close-cropped steel gray hair and a
dark moustache that reminded Betty of Groucho Marx when it
tickled her.

"Well," said Mr. Largeski, once the officers had driven
off.  "Since I'm here we might as well have a training
session."  He ushered her into the back room, loosening the
belt on his bathrobe.

Betty sighed.  She had worked at one of the Fantasy Factory
stores but one of the customers had tricked her!  A very
earnest young man had insisted it was her job to make sure
the customer was always satisfied.  It sounded like what
Mr. Largeski had told her, so...

When Mr. Largeski arrived at the store a couple of hours
later, Betty was completely naked and covered in the white
sticky stuff of at least thirty satisfied customers.  What
made Mr. Largeski upset was that she hadn't made a single
sale.  It was off to the warehouse for her.

He had been very kind to Betty, despite her screw-ups.
Again and again, he took time to train her to be a security
guard.  Betty worried that she was infringing on his time
with Mrs. Largeski.

"No," said Mr. Largeski, getting Betty to kneel in front of
him.  "Deborah is busy training the pool boy and the
gardener.  That's why I hired them."

Betty was happy to hear this.  Mr. Largeski sure was a
training enthusiast!

But tonight was different.  When he left, Mr. Largeski had
told her that she wasn't to disturb him.  His niece was in
town and he wanted to show her the sights.  Betty wasn't
sure what tourist attractions would be open in the middle
of the night, but she bit her tongue.  Mr. Largeski was
very smart and very stern.

Betty skidded to a stop.  From around the corner she could
hear voices and see the glints of flashlights.  Her heart
was thumping but she was determined to protect the Fantasy
Factory's sex toys.  Who knows what would happen if the
extra long dildos and the naughty nurse videos got into the
wrong hands!  She drew her gun and then slowly reached
around the corner to the light switch.  Hopefully she
wouldn't break a nail when she clicked it on.  She hated it
when that happened.

"Freeze, you naughty criminals!" she cried, swinging round
the corner as the lights blazed on.  Betty was actually
surprised to see she was right.  There were two men wearing
black sweats and ski masks, their arms loaded with boxes
labeled VIBRATORS.  She was so startled that she just stood
there, both hands on the gun straight out in front of her.
A full minute passed before she realized they were waiting
for her to do something.

"Hands up!" she said, trying not to sound too girly.

They just stood there.  They were big men, much taller than
Betty's five foot six.  She could see their bulging muscles
under the soft fabric of the sweats.

"Hands up!" she repeated.  What was she going to do if they
didn't obey?  She could never shoot anyone.

"We can't," said the taller man on the right.

"What?" asked Betty.  The shorter guy wobbled the boxes in
his arms.  "Oh!  Put down the boxes and then put up your
hands."  To her relief, the men obeyed, but Betty didn't
know what to do next.

"You're under arrest," Betty said, stalling for time.

"Who are you?" asked the taller guy.

"I'm Officer Betty Boobs!  I mean - Boots.  Betty Boots!"

The shorter thief snickered, eyeing Betty's knockers and
her long bare legs.  Betty ran a hand nervously over her
tight black shorts.  This was going terribly!

"You're doing fine," said the taller man in a deep, gentle
voice, seemingly reading Betty's mind.  He slowly pulled
off his ski mask, revealing a clean-shaven, craggy face of
a man about Betty's age, in his late twenties, with short
brown hair and deep hazel eyes.  The smaller man also
removed his mask.  He was older with jet-black hair and a
small moustache.  The taller man continued to talk in a
soft voice.  "I'm Mr. Jones and this is Mr. Smith.  Don't
worry you're doing a terrific job so far."

"Thank you, Mr. Jones," said Betty.  "I'm awful nervous,
this is the first time I've ever erected - I mean -
arrested anyone."  Those sweat pants showed everything!

"Well, you're doing great," said Mr. Jones.  Betty was
happy to see they kept their hands up.  She blushed
slightly.  They were sure muscular.  "Isn't Betty doing
well, Mr. Smith?"  Mr. Smith didn't answer immediately.
Mr. Jones kicked him.

"Oh!  Yes, Mr. Jones.  Officer Boobs is doing a terrific
job."  Mr. Smith exchanged a glance with Mr. Jones before
adding.  "Are you going to search us now?"

"Hey, Mr. Smith," said Mr. Jones quickly.  "I'm sure
Officer Betty is well aware that she's supposed to search
us."

"Umm...yeah!" said Betty.  "Put your hands against the wall
and spread 'em!"  She had heard that on a television show.
Mr. Jones and Mr. Smith were very obedient, so Betty
holstered her gun and patted them down.

Mr. Jones smelled wonderful!  Betty couldn't help but smell
his neck for his aftershave as she ran her hand down his
bulging arms and over his back and waist.  She tried to be
very conscientious and check each leg and even poked her
fingers into both of their boots to feel for knives.  Mr.
Smith had a very nice ass, and after years of having her
own bottom squeezed, she couldn't help but give his an
extra going over.  She straightened up and was about to
declare them disarmed when she heard Mr. Smith whisper to
Mr. Jones.

"She didn't check our--" He broke off, realizing Betty was
listening.

"It's no use Mr. Smith.  Officer Boobs--I mean--Boots is
too smart.  She saved searching our crotches for last,"
said Mr. Jones, shaking his head.

"You're darn tooting!" said Betty, relieved that Mr. Jones
was on her side.

She walked up behind Mr. Jones and gingerly reached her
hand around him.  The front of his pants sure had something
in them!

"Don't be shy Officer Betty," whispered Mr. Jones, so Mr.
Smith wouldn't hear.  "I realize you are only doing this as
an officer of the law.  I feel totally safe in your capable
hands."  Betty's chest swelled with pride.  Mr. Jones was
right--she was Officer Boots!  She pressed herself against
Mr. Jones and began running her hand up and down the
suspiciously long pole in his pants.

"Oh!  Officer Boobs!" said Mr. Jones.  "You sure know how
to search a suspect."  Betty found the bottom end of the
shaft, underneath were a couple of balls.  She squeezed
them, hard.  Mr. Jones moaned.  Betty grinned; this suspect
was all hers!  She fiddled with the balls and the shaft,
completely engrossed in her search.  After a little while
Mr. Smith coughed politely.

"Uh, are you going to search me too, officer?"  Betty
blushed she had totally forgotten about her other suspect,
but she covered it with officious bluster.

"Oh, it's your turn now, buster!"  She wasn't timid this
time.  She shoved her pubis against Mr. Smith's cute ass
and kicked his legs further apart.  "Let's see what you're
hiding."  Mr. Smith's pants were a little tighter than Mr.
Jones, but whatever Mr. Smith was hiding was really thick
and its end was even bigger.  Betty was able to just put
her hand around the large bulbous tip and stroke it,
feeling for anything odd.

"Wow!  Officer Boobs, you're really good at this!"  Mr.
Smith gasped, as Betty roughly ran her hand up and down the
very odd projectile.

"That's Officer Boots!  You naughty thief!" said Betty,
giving Mr. Smith a smack across his firm ass and pressing
her very proud tits against his back.  Mr. Smith started to
apologize but Betty found an even larger sack of balls
under his shaft, which she subjected to a series of rapid
tugs.  When that didn't yield anything, she began to tug
the sack as she jerked on the giant tube.  But all she got
was Mr. Smith moaning helpless until she finally took pity
on the poor man and stopped.

"Turn around," she said, stepping back.  The men turned.
Their bulges had grown even bigger!  Who knows what they
could be concealing?  But frisking hadn't worked.  Betty
stared at them doubtfully.

"If you're not sure," said Mr. Jones.  "You could do a
strip search."

"A--a strip search?"  Betty's eyes widened.

"You need to do your duty as an officer," reminded Mr.
Smith.

"Officer Boots know she needs to properly secure her
prisoners," said Mr. Jones.  Betty liked Mr. Jones; he was
always sticking up for her.  Well, she licked her lips,
they were both sticking up for her right now!

"I--I want you to take off your clothes!" commanded Betty.

"Everything?" asked Mr. Smith.  Mr. Jones had already
pulled off his sweatshirt, revealing a broad muscular
chest, completely hairless.  His skin was a deep golden
brown.

"Everything," said Betty, failing to take her eyes from Mr.
Jones' smooth chest.  When Mr. Smith removed his shirt he
revealed an equally powerful chest covered with curly black
hair, much to Betty's delight.  She suppressed an urge to
compare the sensation of Mr. Jones' smoothness with Mr.
Smith's furriness.

"Stand back," said Mr. Jones, grinning, after they had
kicked off their shoes and socks.  Betty tried to keep a
straight face as the men pulled down their sweat pants.
She goggled.  As she suspected they weren't wearing any
underwear.

Mr. Jones' cock was long and hairless, with a tip like a
shark.  It hung in the air, a smooth torpedo, smooth and as
taunt as the rest of him.  Mr. Smith's dick was so thick
and with a giant head that made Betty cross and uncross her
legs.  He was all hairy, animal even.  A Greek god and a
barbarian stood before her.

"Uh--I guess there are no...weapons," she said.  Though
they could sure incapacitate her with those!  "I guess you
can...umm...get dressed and I'll call the police."  But Mr.
Jones was shaking his head.

"I'm sorry, Officer Betty.  We've deceived you."

"What?"  Betty looked around, suspiciously.  Was there
someone else here besides her and these two gloriously
naked men?

"We're not thieves," said Mr. Jones, smiling at Mr. Smith.
"We're officials--officers actually--of the National
Security Guard Association.  I'm sure you've heard of the
NSGA.  It would be in your manual."

"You've read your manual, haven't you?" asked Mr. Smith,
still stern, even though he was completely naked.

"Oh, yes!" said Betty guiltily.  She'd been too busy
getting trained by Mr. Largeski to read any of the
literature.

"Well you did a pretty good job," said Mr. Jones.  "But
there's a couple of things that--  Well, I don't want you
to get in trouble with your boss."

"Oh, no!  Please don't tell Mr. Largeski," said Betty,
bouncing over to Mr. Jones.

"Mr. Jones, we're supposed to file a full report," said Mr.
Smith.  "You shouldn't have even told her that we're from
the NASG."  Mr. Smith's hands were on his hips, but Betty
couldn't help but look at his big dick swinging from side
to side.

"You mean the NSGA," said Betty, her eyes still on Mr.
Smith's cock.

"Whatever," said Mr. Smith.

"Come on, Smith," said Mr. Jones.  "If we show Officer
Betty the proper procedures and she co-operates fully, we
won't have to tell her boss about her slip ups."

"I'll co-operate fully!" Betty insisted, bouncing up and
down.  "Please, I love training!"

He pleas melted Mr. Smith's heart.  Very tenderly he
straightened her security t-shirt and patted her bottom.
Betty smiled shyly and looked at her feet.  She was so
lucky.

"Okay!" Mr. Jones clapped his hands.  "Take off your cap
and gun belt Betty.  You'll be the robber and we'll
apprehend you."

"Okay!"  Betty said brightly.  She bent over and picked up
a box labeled KING DONGS.  "Do you want to put your clothes
on?"

"No," Mr. Smith chimed in.  "It is good practice to
apprehend criminals this way, so you don't depend on the
uniform."

"Right," said Mr. Jones.  "We'll stand by the corner and
when I say 'go' we'll start.  Okay?"

"Sure thing!"  Betty was excited, now she was getting
professional training.

Mr. Jones said 'go' and the both men barked 'halt' as Betty
tried to steal the King Dongs.  They pointed their fingers
at her and Betty couldn't help but giggle.  If this were
for real, she'd be much more worried about the other things
they were pointing at her.

"Drop the box, scum bag!" barked Mr. Smith.  Betty dropped
the box, but wasn't very careful.  It spilled all over the
floor.  The dongs were almost as big as Mr. Jones and Mr.
Smith.  "Hands up!" continued Mr. Smith.

"Up against the wall, you nare-do-well!"  Mr. Jones grabbed
her arm and spun her around.  She leaned against the wall.

"Spread 'em!" snarled Mr. Smith, kicking Betty's boots
apart.

"Frisk her," said Mr. Jones.

Mr. Smith had very big hands and Betty gasped as they
crawled all over her body.  They especially dwelt on her
boobs, squeezing them, plucking her nipples, and making her
gasp.

"Is that really necessary?" she asked.  She could feel Mr.
Smith's cock shoved against her shorts.

"Oh, yes," said Mr. Smith.  "You'd be surprised what I've
found in women's brassieres.

"But I'm not wearing one!" Betty said as Mr. Smith shoved
harder against her and cupped her knockers through her very
thin shirt.

"Really?" Mr. Smith nuzzled her neck.  "How interesting!"

"You're failing to do your job," admonished Mr. Jones,
motioning for Mr. Smith to move back.  For a moment Betty
thought Mr. Jones would be gentler, but he too pushed
himself against Betty's pert ass.  His hands went lower,
slipping into her front pockets, digging into them in a
most pleasant way.

"You see?" said Mr. Jones to Mr. Smith.  "You were missing
a most important hiding spot.  He went deeper and his
fingers did circles and strokes.  It really made Betty most
dizzy.  Mr. Smith had to hold her up in front while Mr.
Jones continued in the back.

"There is nothing there," Betty moaned.

"Oh, I can feel something," said Mr. Jones.  "But you're
correct, frisking is getting us nowhere."  The two men
stepped back and Betty noticed their cocks had remained
rock hard, even harder!  It must be the police work,
thought Betty, she was finding it very arousing indeed.
She was only too aware of her pointy nipples and the
tingling dampness of her pussy.

"I think we'd better go on to a strip search," said Mr.
Jones.

"Yes, I quite agree," said Mr. Smith, smiling down at
Betty.

"A--a strip search.  But men aren't supposed to strip
search women!" protested Betty.

"Ah, yes," said Mr. Jones.  "But then, you broke protocol
when you stripped us.  Obviously you let your personal
attractions get in the way.  It seems only fair that we
should give you the same treatment.  That way it doesn't
have to get back to your boss."

"I'd hate for Mr. Largeski to know about my...attractions,"
said Betty.  "I'll do it!"

"Good," said Mr. Smith.  "Actually there are special
techniques for searching women that will come in handy for
you later on in your career.  Nothing like experiencing
them yourself.  Now strip you trollop!"

Betty quailed but obeyed.  It was marvelous how Mr. Smith
was able to put that tone of command in his voice.  It made
Betty want to do anything he said.



First she pulled off her boots, which Mr. Smith immediately
took and checked for weapons.  Then, with scarlet coming to
her cheeks, she unzipped and pushed down her shorts.

"Ah, we're not the only ones to go sans underwear," said
Mr. Jones, as Betty shyly tried to conceal her curly red
triangle.

I'm glad to see you trim it according to the Security Guard
guidelines," said Mr. Smith.  "Now off with your shirt!"

Betty peeled her shirt off.  Perhaps she should be a
robber; she was kind of enjoying this.

"Hands up!" reminded Mr. Jones.

Betty held up her hands.  Freed from her tight t-shirt, her
boobies jiggled and bounced with minds of their own.  And
her nipples--her nipples were like radio knobs!

"Very suspicious," said Mr. Smith, grasping a nipple
between his thumb and forefinger.  "We'd better do the full
search.  Is there a room with a couch, you naughty
criminal?"

"Yes," said Betty, as Mr. Jones ran his hands over her
round ass.  "Mr. Largeski trains me there a lot."

"Well, then pick up some of this evidence and lead the
way," said Mr. Jones, pointing to the spilled King Dong
dildos.

Betty led them to Mr. Largeski's office, with its very
spacious couch.  She hoped they wouldn't smell her perfume
on the pillows.  They didn't seem to notice as they had her
lie back and spread her legs.  Mr. Smith sat between her
legs, and frankly admired her thick red fur amongst the
curves of her whiteness.  Mr. Jones stood over her.  Betty
felt awe looking up at his cock.

"Now Officer Boobs, I'm sure you're aware that a female
suspect can hide things in a variety of places," said Mr.
Smith.  Betty nodded.

"To check these hiding places an officer has to be
resourceful," said Mr. Jones, holding up one of the big
dildos.

"We'll give you a demonstration," said Mr. Smith, a large
dildo in his hand as well.

"Oh, you're going to...but I didn't take anything," said
Betty, looking at the dildos fearfully.

"Betty, do you want to be the best security guard you can
be?" asked Mr. Jones.

"I do!"

"Letting us show you these techniques will put you on the A
list.  Employers all over the world will want you when they
hear what you've done," said Mr. Smith, stroking his cock
with the dildo.

"They will?!"  Betty wanted to stand out.

"They'll climb all over themselves to get a well trained
girl like you under them," said Mr. Jones, running the cool
silicon dong along Betty's jaw line.

"Well then, what are you waiting for?" cried Betty,
spreading her legs and looking up at Mr. Jones.  "Search
me!"

Mr. Smith started first.  He ran the dildo up and down
Betty's pussy, calling forth the wet already there from Mr.
Jones' frisking.  Betty started to think this wasn't going
to be so tough when suddenly Mr. Smith pressed the tip pass
her pussy lips and into her.  Oh, this was going to be very
hard work!

She moaned, and at that instant Mr. Jones pushed his dildo
into her mouth, pushing down on her tongue, making her gag.
She thrashed and wiggled but they were implacable.  Mr.
Smith shoved deeper into her sodden pussy and Mr. Jones
slid further down her throat.  Later, Betty was mad at
herself.  She should have been memorizing their technique
but instead she had gotten completely and utterly aroused.
Maybe she deserved to be locked up, or at least chained up
and whipped.  She was moaning helplessly when Mr. Smith
looked up at Mr. Jones with very intense eyes.

"These dildos aren't big enough for this slutty suspect.
Let's go to plan A."  Betty was too aroused to do anything
as Mr. Smith pulled his dildo free and placed his own
monumental member at the door of Betty's throbbing pussy.

"Now we'll find out if you're hiding anything," grunted Mr.
Smith, popping his enormous dick into Betty's ready cunt.

Betty was in the middle of an impassioned cry when Mr.
Jones shoved his smooth dick down her throat.  She gagged
again, but then, grateful for the taste of a man, began to
tongue his cock.

"Yes! Yes!" he said.  "Suck on this honey.  Then we'll know
if you're innocent."

And Betty sucked, as Mr. Smith rutted in her, sucking on
her nipples and slapping her haunches, which thrust against
his pelvis.  He was so enormous--she was sure he must feel
every inch of her pussy walls.  Mr. Jones thoroughly
explored the back of her mouth and her throat, which
constricted around his powerful dick.

Betty felt guilty, enjoying her training so much.  She
stroked Mr. Jones' contracting buttocks and entwined her
fingers in Mr. Smith's chest hair.

Mr. Jones pulled his cock from Betty's mouth and pumped it
hard.  Mr. Smith was pounding her pussy, making her boobies
jump with each thrust.

"You guys really know how to search a girl!" she exclaimed.

Mr. Jones moaned and cum jetted from his long cock.  Betty
opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue.  What a creative
way to make a girl open her mouth!  At the same time she
felt Mr. Smith rumble and her pussy filled with his warm
creamy semen.  He pulled himself out and slipped his dick
between her tits that she squeezed together.

"A male security guard's dick is very sensitive," Mr. Smith
gasped, fucking her knockers with his cum covered cock.
"It can detect falsies!"  Then he came again, shooting cum
all over her face and breasts, making her suck on his tip
until he was done.

Betty could see why they were officers with the NSGA.  They
bent her over the couch and took turns fucking her ass.
They were so thorough.  She learned a lot about anal
probing, and how much she liked it, as each man pumped her,
squeezing her tities and asking her if she had ever left
her sweet bottom unattended even for a few minutes.

"Cause, oh fuck, some bastard would fill your ass if you
ever gave him a chance!" said Mr. Jones as he emptied his
load into her tight little hole.

Betty orgasmed five or six times under such relentless
questioning.  But Mr. Jones told her she was a trooper.
Most other female suspects couldn't go on this long.

"Except...for...Layla at the Horny Hotel!" moaned Mr.
Smith, pulling his dick from Betty's ass and pumping his
spurting cock between her cheeks, spraying more milky white
goodness over the small of her back.

"No," said Mr. Jones, giving Betty's boobs an affectionate
squeeze.  "Even Layla didn't hold up this well."

Betty lay face down on the couch, panting and running her
hands over her poor pleasured body.

"Is Layla a security guard?" she asked.

"Sort of," said Mr. Smith, slipping on his sweats.  "She's
a professional."

"But not as good as you," said Mr. Jones, giving Betty as
long wet kiss.  Betty kissed back; she had really grown to
like Mr. Jones.  He too had his clothes on.  "We have to
go."  Before Betty could get up off the couch, they were at
the door.

"You'll have to pretend you never saw us, Officer Boobs,
said Mr. Smith, giving her a farewell squeeze when she
rushed to them.  "And we'll have to take some of these
boxes as evidence."

"We're a highly secret organization," said Mr. Jones.  "But
don't worry!  We'll tell our colleagues all about you."

By the time she had found her shorts and t-shirt they were
gone and so were twenty boxes of sex toys.  She never saw
them again.

Betty did get in trouble when Mr. Largeski discovered that
a large chunk of his stock was missing, but Betty was able
to make it up to him over a long weekend when Mrs. Largeski
was out of town.  It was lucky he kept her on because there
was quite a crime spree for the following months.  Betty
was very busy frisking and strip searching thieves who
never seemed to wear underwear and were only too happy to
submit to Officer Boobs' authority.

But all that came to an end when Mrs. Largeski, suspecting
hanky-panky with Mr. Largeski, broke into the warehouse one
night.  Mr. Largeski wasn't there, but Officer Boobs was on
duty.  Up to then Betty had only male suspects to search,
so this strange woman was her first chance to try Mr. Jones
and Mr. Smith's techniques.  Mrs. Largeski protested at
first, but Betty was very thorough.  When she finally
called the police and Mr. Largeski, Deborah Largeski was
completely under her sway.

At first Mr. Largeski thought it was very amusing that Mrs.
Largeski had been so completely probed with strap-ons and
dildos, but he got very angry indeed when Deborah announced
that she was leaving him to become a lesbian, all thanks to
Betty.

"But--I don't even know what a lesbian is!" protested
Betty, as Mr. Largeski stripped her of her uniform in front
of the entire Fantasy Factory staff.  It didn't make a
difference.

That was the end of Betty Boots' employment with Fantasy
Factory Inc. and the end of her career as a security guard
as well.  Tomorrow she will have to pick up the help wanted
section of her newspaper, but tonight she was going to curl
up in her bed with a couple of King Dongs and think about
her favorite trainers, Mr. Jones and Mr. Smith.

-fin-

I have a feeling Betty is going to have a lot of different
jobs!

Let me know what you thought of the story.  (Good or ill.)

Tom Thumper
tom9211@hotmail.com

For erotic fun & cartoons try...
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/thumper/wwwheaven/


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