Blinding lights and deafening noise danced through the halls of the Gold Tooth Casino. Many of the patrons were too engrossed in their games and drinks and big losses to notice the ordinary servers who milled between them, collecting some glasses and refilling others. That was, however, until the casino’s two best ladies, both dressed in bunny suits, came onto the scene.
Cinnabun, the bunny in blue, went through the route she had memorized so long ago. From table two to six, slide past the bar, seven, eight…it was all routine by now. The path let her collect glasses most efficiently while giving the best display for her massive mammary mounds. She had lost count of how many surgeries she had gotten and her cups had no number as they were literally off the charts. See, Cinnabun liked her breasts big. Insanely so. A disproportionate amount of her earnings went straight from her tip jar to her “tit jar” and she was always looking to expand more. As such, her work had been honed down to a science to get the most tips out of her work in she least amount of time. Trouble was, it was becoming harder and harder to buy her upgrades, so Cinnabun was left with long periods of boredom as she did her job to earn the needed dough. She longed for something fun while “grinding” as she called it.
If Cinnabun was like a needle and thread, then her rival in red, Jolokia, was a rock. Jolokia was not one for precision or subtlety. Her strength was in seizing what she wanted and having a well of willpower as large as her tremendous backside. Her attitude and no-nonsense approach made her quite popular with customers who wanted a domineering woman to pay attention to them…or use them as a seat. Whatever paid better. That’s all it was about for Jolokia; money. She had a lot of expensive tastes and used this gig to fuel her lavish lifestyle. She used to constantly get the employee of the month due on no small part to her butt which, due to said self-indulgence, had natural cheeks the size of bus wheels. Of course, all that changed when Cinnabun came along. Though Jolokia would never again win the award, she did gain someone with whom she constantly competed for the most tips in a night.
Both of them were managed by their grimy boss, Mr. Greez. He hardly ever made an appearance in the casino main floor, citing that if his face didn’t drive the customers away, his breath could. So it was rather disconcerting when his moth-eaten white tiger-print suit and golden-breasted cane were seen making their way to the two women, their owner trying to make friendly with the customers…
“Hey, sweet thang, you enjoying yourself?”
“Not now that you’re here.”
…poorly.
“Um, boss?” Cinnabun asked, “Don’t you think your services would better be applied if you were to…”
A shove from Jolokia ended that sentence.
“Boss, you need to get the fuck out. You’re scaring the customers.”
“Yeah, sure thing, kids, but I gots ta see you in my office. Both of you.” His voice was strained and like gravel. An annoying mosquito buzz really.
Both girls reluctantly went into that dark, cigar-smelling trap, curious as to why both would be called in together. Mr. Greez smiled and gestured to their seats, one normal office chair for Cinnabun and a heavy-duty loveseat for Jolokia, who had routinely broken his regular chairs in the past. Mirror sunglasses stared at them and in a flourish, a magazine was spread across the paper-laden table. It had a picture of a woman with two heads, one red one blonde.
“Know who these dames are?” Mr. Greez asked. Before they could answer, he continued
“These are Deloris and Debbie. Models. Very famous. Very rich.”
“They do look kind of cute…” Cinnabun murmured.
“Why are you showing us your dirty mags, old man?” Jolokia asked
“The chicks weren’t born like that. It was something they had done. I’m thinking you two do that and cha-ching! Money, bya-bay!”
“Yes!” Cinnabun shouted
“Wait-what!?” Jolokia shouted, “Why would anyone do that?”
“Two reasons.” Mr. Greez replied, handing her a paper “First, you don’t pay a thing. The Golden Tooth does. Second, their yearly income is public knowledge.”
It took one look at the number on the paper to prompt the next question.
“When do we start?”
It was not as easy a transition as any of the three would have thought. Far from a simple cut-and-paste, conjoinment was a long, painful process. First many tests had to be done to insure that their organs and blood wouldn’t be rejected by the other body. Then there was the most painful part of the procedure by far; a period where the two were stitched side to side to allow blood vessels and the like to flow together. They had to remain like that for three months and while they were given time off of work for it (Mr. Greez openly sobbed at the money he was hemorrhaging) it was no vacation. Even with their pain meds, neither had appreciated how much the body moves each and every day. Yet every little twitch and shift tugged on their stitches and threatened to reopen the wounds. And then there were their proportions. Both had learned to live with their engorged assets, but now they had to compensate for the others weight and movements. It was like attaching a weight to two out of four ceiling fan blades; one was bound to lose equilibrium.
“Ow! Jeez! Warn me next time you want to get up, Tits!”
“You don’t need to yell at me like that! I’m sorry, but I’m new at this too, remember?”
“Aren’t you always the one going on about how ‘neat-o’ it’ll be when we’re fully joined? Bet this part wasn’t part of your perverted fantasies.”
“They…I don’t have…”
“Yeah, just warn me next time.”
During this time, they began the moving process. Since owning two homes would be redundant, Cinnabun sold her threadbare apartment (she could afford a larger home but then that would take away from the boob fund) and her stuff was put into the lavish home of her body partner. Of course, not being able to move much themselves, small talk often took up the time the movers did their job.
“So wait, how many sisters did you say you had?” Jolokia asked
“Seven. All younger than me. I guess you could say my parents were just as much a rabbit as I am. How about you?” replied Cinnabun
“Grew up in the system. Never had anyone to look out for me except me. Guess that’s why I…. Uh, what about you? Why do you always need those giant knockers bigger?”
“Well, at first it was to get this job since I couldn’t get anything else. Then after that, I guess it was to make me feel unique. Hard to stand out when you have seven sisters and it made me feel like I had something my own. Something I could care about.”
“Have an end goal?”
“Hmm…well, once I break the world record, maybe I’ll consider stopping. You?”
“Nothing. Never planned for the future much.”
“Say, can I call you Jo.”
“No.”
“Oh.”
In time, the pain lessened as flesh fused and their movements coordinated, which led to the final grand surgery. Unlike the models that inspired them, Cinnabun and Jolokia (who were no calling themselves CJ for more than one reason) had to not only go through the surgery to make them a two headed woman, but their assets had to be evened out, meaning that their breasts and butt cheeks would have to match…being equally huge. Their butt would even out eventually due to the bunnies now sharing a metabolism, but surgery was required for their breasts.
“Can we pretty please get an upgrade as long as we’re under the knife?” Cinnabun begged a few days before the augmentation.
“For the last time, no!” Jolokia snapped, still not used to someone always being near her to question and criticize her actions. Plus, she wasn’t used to anyone arguing with her.
“Aww…why not?”
Jolokia took a deep breath and sighed before answering.
“First of all, your giant tits are already drawing attention away from my fabulous ass. Second, the Golden Tooth is paying for us to be conjoined and only that surgery. Anything else and we would be paying out of pocket, and I know you don’t have the cash for that yet.”
“Yeah, but maybe if we talked to Mr. Greez about it, he’d be willing to-“
“The answer’s no!”
The tears that shout down brought to Cinnabun’s eyes softened Jolokia’s heart. Here was a woman who Jolokia knew she’d have to spend her whole life with and here she was, denying that woman her life’s passion and screaming at her. This sort of attitude may have been fine for dealing with perverted customers or a sleazy manager, but not for this. It wasn’t worth losing what could be her only friend over.
“Sigh…all right, I’ll tell you what, you can get them after you can afford them yourself. Sound fair?”
“Oh…all right.”
Silence again. Cinnabun was shaking.
“What’s wrong?” Jolokia asked
“This surgery is the riskiest one yet. What if something-“
“You don’t have to worry about that. I didn’t know you were scared. You didn’t act like this last time.”
“I was really excited before. Now that it’s so close, well, it seems more real.”
Jolokia didn’t say anything. She hadn’t ever had anyone to look out for her, but now there was someone she could look out for. She could use her money and attitude to protect someone besides herself for a change. Suddenly, Jolokia knew why her partner liked the idea of being conjoined.
“Don’t worry. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
“(snif) Thanks.”
“And Cinnabun? One more thing?”
“Hm?”
“Call me Jo.”
After more months of rehab, the women were in sync enough to return to work. They entered back into the same dismal office to see their unchanged manager grinning ear to ear.
“Great to see ya again, CJ! Looking fine as always!”
“You didn’t see us once in the six months we’ve been gone!” Jolokia snapped
“Hey, I’ve been busy! I got something sweet lined up!”
“Is it a strip tease?” Cinnabun asked eagerly. She was tired of being cooped up in rehab. She was eager to get out there and get attention again.
“Not quite.” He replied, See, I got this photo shoot lined up for a magazine. See, some chick got 100,000 views on her web page and you guys are gonna be there to celebrate…along with D’nD.”
“For reals!?” Cinnabun squealed. She was excited to meet others like her.
“Yep. Better get ready, your carriage leaves in ten.”