[kernelkink]

Stephanie's eyes hardened and met Bruce's unflinchingly. “Bruce!” she shouted, standing as straight as she could and sticking out her chest as far as it could go. Bruce's laughing slowed as he looked at her and eventually stopped. But his expression was still more defiant than nervous. “Think what you want, but you are going to need my bra to get out of here alive,” Stephanie continued, taking a step toward Bruce.

Bruce scoffed again, a bit less confidently. “Take it off if you want, pig! Time is up for good!” He slowly raised his hand with the knife.

“I think you're bluffing, Bruce,” Stephanie said, taking two more steps toward Bruce. Slap. Slap. Her bare feet smacked the tile in perfect coordination with the gentle jiggle of her boobs. Stephanie took a deep breath, and, without moving her eyes, reached her arms back to the fasteners of her bra. She felt her nipples begin to stiffen, almost anticipating their upcoming exposure.

“You'll see what a bluff looks like when there's blood all over the floor!” Bruce retorted, but it was his turn for his voice to crack. It wasn't entirely convincing. And that was enough for Stephanie to know she was right. She undid the first of the four fasteners, feeling her bra straps loosen and her chest drop slightly.

“What's more,” Stephanie said, ignoring Bruce's words completely, “I think you want me to take this off.” She hesitated a moment, and then undid the second fastener. “Mental quirks aside, you seem like a red-blooded American boy. And well, what red-blooded American boy wouldn't want to see what the sheriff is packing?”

Stephanie couldn't see Amy, but if she could, she would witness a face torn halfway between the worlds of admiration and embarrassment. Who she could see was Bruce, jaw slack and searching for words. “I, I, um...uh,” was all the maniac could say. Stephanie undid the third fastener. By now, her straps were slack and floppy, and had slid partway down her shoulders. The bottom of the bra strained considerably and sunk into her skin. Her boobs felt halfway free, and wobbled quite a bit with each of her continuing steps.

Stephanie couldn't see this, but she could feel it, and it was making her focus slip. She thought of her mother, a sweet but stern Catholic nurse 3500 miles away. When she had bought Stephanie her first bra, she sat her daughter down and explained that she was to nevermore take her shirt off in front of anyone but her mama and her personal doctor. A boy was absolutely forbidden. Sinful even. And yet here Stephanie was, one tiny metal hook from showing the entire room her tetas. Was it really worth it? To trade the shred of dignity she'd preserved for 12 years for a single hour?

But then she saw Bruce's knife hand start to slack. Just a tiny bit. But enough to know that she could get that knife and end this all. “Bruce,” Stephanie whispered, “drop the knife.” Bruce shook his head, but only very slightly. “Bruce,” Stephanie repeated with force, “drop the knife.” She took three more steps forward. There was now little more than a foot of space between her chest and Bruce's. Stephanie flexed her fingers one more time, and the final fastener came undone. Somewhere in this room, the hostages had four gaping mouths and one raging boner between them.

Any tension left in the straps disappeared, and Stephanie's bra almost removed itself of its own accord. Her boobs sunk with gravity, and a small portion of them even slid out from under the cups. Her gun clip, which she had almost forgotten about hiding there, hit the floor with a loud clatter. Stephanie felt her nipples pressing against the cotton, and knew that they, and the tips of her clavicle, were basically the only thing holding her bra up. She gathered a deep breath and spat it out as words: “Drop it!” Bruce dropped the knife with a flinch. The whole room was breathless.

Stephanie flicked her eyes away for the first time, to gauge where the knife was. Then they went right back to Bruce as she slowly began to squat. Stephanie's heart skipped a beat or two as she felt her bra straps begin to slide away. The weight of the fasteners gently dragged against her back. But somehow, the undergarment held onto her boobs enough to keep them decent. “That's right,” Stephanie said to her bra as much as Bruce, “stay right there.”

Finally, she had sunk onto her knees, and reached out her left arm to grope around for the knife on the floor. Immediately, her left cup sank, and Stephanie felt the soft skin of her areola beginning to hit the open air. She stopped, pulling the arm back. Cold sweat began to collect in her armpits and under her boobs. “I have to act now,” Stephanie thought, and went out with her right arm. The right cup slipped down too, but less quickly, and Stephanie felt her fingers touch the edge of cold steel just as the edge of her right areola hit fresh air. A smile flickered across Stephanie's face, and she begin to stand back up.

Her rising spirits crashed with a thud. Bruce was looking down at her with a strange look on his face. And not the right kind of strange. Furthermore, gravity had finally overcome the tackiness of human skin. If Stephanie stood anymore, her bra was going to slide right off her arms. Even now, her areolas were more out than in, and Stephanie felt the full weight of her boobs hang free. She thought of her mother again, one Halloween, when she had rejected Stephanie's somewhat cleavage-baring costume. “You want to be hot?” her mom had said, in a thick Latin accent. “Modest is hottest, Stephanie. Girls who show off their tetas are just big sl*ts.”

“Well, mama,” Stephanie thought, “I might not want to be a sl*t. But I have to be a cop.” And then Stephanie stood up all at once, her bra sliding off her arms and dangling loosely on the tip of the knife. It stayed there just a second, and then it fell with a soft thump. Stephanie followed it with her eyes, and stared at it as it just lay on the floor. And then it all clicked. Stephanie's eyes raced upward, from her toes, to her soft brown thighs, to her bright pink panties, to her belly button, to her completely and utterly bare breasts.

There they hung, swaying very slightly with Stephanie's breathing. What had once sat at her shoulders was almost down to the bottom of her chest. Saggy would be unkind and inaccurate, but they had a healthy natural droop to them. Right in the middle of each breast was a large and wide areola. Forget comparisons of coinage, they were at least 2 inches across; even while crinkled and puckered in nervous excitement. Their color was a deep mahogany brown that contrasted greatly with Stephanie's caramel chest, and they were centered around two short but very noticeably erect nipples.

Stephanie stopped herself from screaming, but a little moan did come out. She was totally topless in public and on the job, and everyone knew just how much it was getting to her. She was so practically naked that Stephanie almost felt like taking off her panties just to complete the sensation. But she didn't. Instead, she closed her mouth, swallowed, and felt the cold knife in her hand. She had it. It was finally over.

Her heart soared, and she spun around to face Amy. “Yeah!” Stephanie said, pumping the knife skyward, and Amy squealed and jumped up and down, clapping her hands. Stephanie grinned broadly, not even caring she had just sent her bare boobs swinging wildly. But she cared when she heard a metallic click, and she turned around to see Bruce holding a revolver. “Oh, come ON!” Stephanie howled, dropping the knife and putting her hands up. “Who the F*CK brought a gun to a mental hospital?” The male doctor raised his hand sheepishly.

“Very clever, pig,” Bruce giggled. “Using your CIA tricks to get inside my brain. But it's over. It's all over.” Bruce waved the gun forward. “Back up. And you get your hands up too, Blondie.” Stephanie flushed all over with hot embarrassment and rage, but she did as Bruce said. In a moment she stood beside a white-faced Amy, who had her hands up too. “I'm gonna tell you what's gonna happen now. We're gonna get all the secrets on the table. First, get that top off, Blondie. Big and loose enough to hide a submachine gun under there.”

Stephanie didn't want to make any sudden moves, but she had to dive to keep Amy from collapsing onto the floor. Her young partner was in a flop sweat and barely conscious as she got her back on her feet. “We don't have any choice, sweetheart,” Stephanie pleaded. Amy said nothing at first, but as her dizziness lessened she turned her big blue eyes to Stephanie.

“But Steffy, mine don't even compare to yours,” Amy whined. “If you've got the Appalachians, I've got a couple'a sad little anthills.” She gently pressed on her chest and frowned deeply. “They won't stare at mine, they'll just laugh at 'em.”

Stephanie snorted and rolled her eyes. “Sweetheart, the boys at my school used to walk behind me on my way home with footballs stuffed in their shirts. The girls never left gym class without snapping my bra. They all called me “bouncy boobs”! People'll find some stupid shit to make fun of no matter what you're shaped like. It doesn't make you any less beautiful.” Amy looked shocked for a second, but then she nodded. Fast, and repeatedly, with quick short breaths between them. Then she broke into a primal scream that didn't cease as she did the following: grabbed the bottom of her cami, squeezed it, and ripped the top over her head. She threw it to the floor, and the scream finally stopped.

For a second. Then Amy looked down at herself and screamed all anew; a fearful and embarrassed scream. Her pale, curveless chest was completely exposed to the room. Her breasts, had they been fitted for a bra, would have been AA cups, like the battery. And not much bigger than batteries they were, sitting completely still despite Amy's full-chested scream. Her little quarter-sized areolas were just about as pink as humanly possible, and the inch-long nipples that stood out from them were only a tiny bit browner.

Then the scream stopped again, this time cut off by a fainting spell that even Stephanie couldn't stop. Bruce shrugged and clicked his tongue. “Nothing after all, but we gotta be safe. Toss that thing over here, and gimme that earpiece while you're at it,” Bruce continued to Stephanie.

Stephanie's heart jumped from her stomach to her throat, threatening to make her vomit. “What did you say?” she stalled.

“Yeah, yeah, don't play dumb, pig!” Bruce growled. “Take it off, toss it to me, and if you try to say anything else you're gonna get a bullet or two! And I mean, you got two pretty easy bullseyes out there for me,” he said, gesturing towards her areolas.

Stephanie's hand trembled as she took her earpiece out of her ear. “God help us both, Robert,” she thought as she clenched it in one hand and picked up Amy's cami with the other. She tossed both to Bruce, who finally set the gun on the visitor desk and picked up his prizes.

“Just cuz you played so nice, I'm gonna give you 30 more minutes. But when that's up, if there's no Kermit, there ain't gonna be any more blabbin'. Just six big bangs!” Robert cackled. He sat down at the desk and began pulling on the rest of the police uniform, looking up at Stephanie every so often.

Stephanie didn't know how things had gotten out of hand so fast. One minute she was more in charge they she had ever been, and in the next things couldn't get any worse. “At least,” she thought, “Amy is waking up.” Stephanie bent down to lift her partner's head and slap her cheeks lightly. Amy's eye's fluttered, and she came about with a strange mix of happiness and sadness. Then her eyes fixed on something below Stephanie's waist and they shot wide open.

“Steffy,” Amy hissed, clearly horrified. Her white face was rapidly turning the reddest it had ever been, and she buried her face in her hands. She started to mumble something incomprehensible.

“What is it, Amy? What's wrong?” Stephanie asked.

“Steffy...” Amy stammered, “You, uh, well, like, um, kinda have, just a little, just, um, like, a tiny bit of, uh, er, h-h-happy juice on your, um, panties.”

Stephanie was confused for a second, and then she looked down to see that sometime in the past confrontation, she had gotten so excited that her worst nightmare had come true. A little dark wet spot had appeared on the front of her boyshorts. Slowly, without a word, Stephanie curled up in a ball and stared at the wall. She would figure out how to save everyone in 10 minutes or so. She just needed a little break to put her shattered brain back together first.