DD Debbie - A Close Shave

    "Excuse me ... excuse me .... will you fucking MOVE ALREADY?!"     The chesty brunette was pressing her way throught the crowded salon, a look of contempt and disgust twisting her pretty face. "Where do these losers get off?" she mumbled under her breath. "I mean, really ... like a beauty salon can do anything for these dogs!" As she made her way to the rear of the shoppe, she was further exasperated to find her personal stylist, Andre, seating a heavy-set older redhead with short curly hair.
    "Umm ... excuse me, lady? I was next!" she advised the woman in patronizing tones. Andre rolled his eyes theatrically. Women like Debbie were good for business on one level (it helped the salon's reputation to have attractive women among its patrons) but this one was more petulant than a dozen divas. Still, she was stunningly gorgeous - lush black hair, a model's exquisite face and her greatest assets, a 34DD rack that seemed to defy the laws of gravity and physics, even when she wasn't wearing a bra (which was often).
    If only it weren't for her attitude .. and her wardrobe, which made the fashion conscious Andre cringe at times. Today, for example - in sharp contrast to the other patrons, stylishly dressed or in professional suits - Debbie wore a too tight white cropped top with the words "Can't Touch This!" emblazoned across her massive mammaries. A tiny red miniskirt showing off her long shapely legs and a pair of red high-heeled pumps that were pure "Fredericks of Hollywood" completed the slutty outfit.
    "I beg your pardon, Miss, but I have been waiting for ..." the redhead answered, clearly aghast at the younger woman's lack of manners.
    "Look, Shamu, I really don't have time for this. Just get out of the chair! Andre, really, I don't know why I even bother to make appointments! I have an audition in an hour and I simply cannot waste time chatting with this ... this whale! Now ... I'll need a shampoo and set, light trim ..."
    "Well, I never!" huffed the older woman.
    "Never what?" Debbie smirked. "Pass a bakery without dropping in? Maybe you ought to! Now kindly move, Fatso, before I really get mad!"
    From the front of the shop a familiar voice - far too familiar as far as Debbie was concerned! - piped up. "Hey, what's the problem?" The tone was cheery and confident. "We're all ladies here, aren't we?" Then, locking eyes with Debbie, Joyce chuckled . "Oops, look like I spoke too soon about that! What's up, Titsie? Long time, no see!"
    Debbie seethed at the sight of her hated tormentor. Still, they were in a crowded shop, so what could the tough blonde do? (Past experience had taught the top-heavy woman nothing!)
    "Come in to get your roots done, Blondie?" she taunted Joyce.
    "Well, the way I see it, that's none of your business, Debs!" Joyce replied. Then addressing Andre and the redhead, "Is she making trouble again?"  As both began speaking over each other, Joyce was able to glean that Debbie had come in an hour and a half after her scheduled appointment and now expected to be served immediately; other patrons be damned. Joyce smirked as she took it all in, then addressing Double D Debbie, "Gee, Chesty, I would have thought you'd have learned some manners from our prior 'discussion' ... guess not. Looks like you need a little refresher course!"
    The feud between the big brunette and the smaller, athletic blonde went all the way back to high school. And each time the two tangled, it always ended the same way - Debbie beaten to a sobbing pulp. Most women would have learned to avoid a tough cookie like Joyce, but Debbie just couldn't seem to stay out of her way. Like now.
    As Joyce approached menacingly, the stunned patrons and staff gawked, unsure of what was going on between these two women. For her part, Debbie began to back up slowly, trying to maintain a brave front.
    "D- don't come near me ... I'm ... I'm warning you ... k - k - keep your distance or I'll ... I'll ..." Debbie stopped backing up, finding herself backed flush against the mirrored wall of the salon. Joyce stood almost nose to nose with the brunette. "Just to be a sport about it, I'll spot you the first shot, Jugs!" she sneered. Debbie's full lip trembled, then ...
    Pssssssssssssttt! - Joyce got a face full of hairspray! The devious Debra had suckered her! The slim, fit blonde bent half over, coughing and rubbing her eyes furiously! Grinning sadistically, Debbie waded into Joyce with a series of roundhouse punches!
    "Good Heavens!" exclaimed the redhead, leaving the salon chair as quickly as her girth would allow, Andre simply fainted. And from a group of the other urbane, sophisticated ladies rose a single chant - "FIGHT!!"   
    Debbie was estatic - she was winning - WINNING! Finally! She'd pay this blonde bimbo back for what seemed a thousand prior indignities. Indeed, while Debbie's punches lacked great power, Joyce was unable to see them coming and cumulatively, they were doing some serious damage to the well-conditioned blonde.
    "Get a load of this!" crowed Debbie, playing to the mob. "Now I'm going to strip this skank!" ... and it was there that Debbie sealed her fate once again. Rather than continue to pour punishment on the disoriented blonde, Debbie busied herself with trying to shred Joyce's blouse. Precious seconds ticked away and Joyce's lungs and eyes slowly cleared.
    "There!" Debbie declared triumphantly, tearing open Joyce's blouse - and exposing a singularly NON-revealing sports bra! "Huh?" Debbie voiced her disappointment, gaping at Joyce's chest. Then she slowly raised her view and locked eyes with a glowering red-eyed Joyce.
    "... uh-oh!... Debbie mewed meekly.
    Payback is a bitch, they say, and Deb was soon learning the meaning of that slogan.     WHACK ... THWACK ... WHAM ... Joyce fired off a ripping three-punch combination, digging a left to Debbie's ribs, burying a right into her soft midriff and bouncing a left off her temple, leaving Debbie reeling unsteadily. The busty brunette tried to reply with a tentative left and received a ringing right to the temple for her effort.
    Joyce glared at her top-heavy opponent, then noticed the brazen logo on her crop top. "Can't Touch This"? Yeah, right!" sneered Joyce. "There's probably been about a thousand guys who've pawed your fat udders throught that rag, eh, Titsie? Maybe it means other women can't touch you? Heh heh ... we know that's not true!"
    With that, Joyce seized the collar of Debbie's shirt and shredded it down the middle, freeing Debbie's massive 34 Double D's to jiggle and sway freely. Now it was the blonde's turn to play to the crowd, who had started to cheer her on. "Well, well, well, what do we have here? Deb's big ol' fun bags! Damn, slut, do you even OWN a bra? No matter ... somehow your puppies seem to retain their tone - and heaven knows they've been through a lot! Speaking of which, how about giving them a little work out, eh, Juggsie?"
    Deb frantically shook her head no (causing her boobs to flop to and fro just as frantically). "P-P-Please ... don't ... don't hit me again ... not my tits ... not my tits! ..." Debbie pleaded pitifully, big tears welling up in her blue eyes.
    "What do you say, ladies?" Joyce addressed the women in the salon. "Should I let her off easy or ...?"
    The answer came quickly from the crowd. "Kick her skanky ass! Tear her tits off! Teach her a lesson!"
    The stocky redhead shot an evil glare at Debbie, who stood with her arms hanging limply to the side, a pleading look on her face. The older lady smiled sweetly at poor Deb.
    "Knock her into next week!" snarled the redhead.
    "The people have spoken, Juggsie!" Joyce told a whimpering Debbie brightly. "Besides, I owe you for that little hairspray stunt!" With that, Joyce tore into Debbie with a dizzying display of hand speed, battering her opponent's soft fat hooters like twin speed bags, causing them to flop up and down in cadence with Joyce's fast stinging punches. Debbie's milky white tits assumed first a pinkish, then an angry scarlet hue as a result of the relentless barrage.
    "Owwwww ... ouch ... ooooo ... p-p-please (sob) you're killin' me ... ahhhh .. ohhhh .. m-m-my tits ... my tits ... owwwww .. it hurts ... ooooo ... stop beatin' me ... oh, I can't stand it!"
    The blonde switched her target from DD's beaten tits to her soft tummy, causing Deb to gag and gasp for breath. The lithe blonde suddenly stopped and shot one hand under the short skirt Debbie was wearing.
    "Wh - what are you... don't pull my ... AHHHH! Nooooo!" Debbie squealed. With a ripping sound that caused some of the crowd to wince, Deb's g-string tore loose and Joyce held it aloft triumphantly. "Who wants a trophy?" the blonde snickered.
    At this point, Debbie was completely at the mercy of her foe. Joyce stepped back and admired her handiwork; Double D Debbie was a mess! Sweating, face stained with mascara tears, topless, practically bottomless, breasts scalded red by punches, sobbing uncontrollably. "Well, I guess it's time to say nighty night, Boobsie!" Joyce chuckled.
    "No! No please! Don't k-knock me out again! I can't stand that! don't! I'm begging you ... I will ..."
    We'll never know what Debbie was planning to say next! Joyce landed a haymaker square on Debbie's chiseled chin and the top heavy brunette staggered backward, a goofy smile plastered on her face and collalsed into the salon chair. The assembled women broke into applause and Joyce jokingly took a bow.
    But the day was not yet over for DD Debbie. Joyce called for a pair of electric clippers, much to the delight of her audience. She slowly, almost lovingly began shaving off the long black locks of the still unconscious tramp. Running the clippers back and forth, she gradually left Deb with only a headful of dark stubble.
    "Shaving cream!" Joyce barked like a surgeon and the redhead helped her lather up Debbie's head. Joyce rubbed it in, then called for a straight razor. Five minutes later and Debbie's scalp was completely bare!
    For the final touch, Joyce rubbed lotion on the nude scalp. Surprisingly, Debbie gave a little moan and murmured "Mmmm. That feels so good!" She even slid her hand under her skirt and rubbed her crotch, much to the amusement of the onlookers.
    "Well, I think my work here is just about done!" Joyce said. She slapped Deb's face back and forth until the groggy woman woke up.
    "Oh, please! No more hitting!" Deb immediately started begging. "Just lemme go and I'll leave!"
    Joyce stepped back and made a sweeping gesture to the door. "Okay, no more hitting. You're free to go, my lady!"
    It was only after Debbie slowly climbed out of the salon chair and started toward the door that she gingerly put one hand on her shining scalp. "Wha - what have you done to me?" she shrieked. "I'm - my god, I'm b-b-bald!"
    The former beauty queen stumbled toward the door in tears. "I'm bald! I'm bald!" she kept repeating to herself. And as the final parting gesture, Joyce yanked off the tiny miniskirt, leaving Deb to stagger out the door naked, bald and still in shock at her total defeat.