Even More New Girls at St. Cat's by Some Sort of Dog (Huge boobs, Lactation, Schoolgirls)


WARNING: This warning is slightly different from that in our previous
postings. This story features schoolgirls with large breasts. If you
don't want to read about such things, you know what to do. If you are a
minor, wherever you live, read no further. It is probably against the
law for you to read this material.

Although our young heroines are no more pure and virginal than any
other human beings in their position, they are not depicted here as
having sexual relations with adults. Such a prospect, indeed, would
fill them with horror and disgust. The story is a fantasy. Some
fantastic things may well happen, but NOBODY gets raped, killed, or
explodes. You want that, there's plenty of such crudity available
elsewhere. Go find it.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Many of the characters in this story have appeared
before. Although it is not strictly necessary, it might help if readers
are already familiar with some other stories: 'Big Little Sister',
'Grown-up Girls' and the earlier 'St Cat's' stories by the same author.
One character, Grandma Trudy, first appeared in 'Trudy - A 50's
Romance' by Road Dog. Although for a long time, the characters existed
in parallel and almost self-contained universes, they converged in the
previous stories: 'New Girls at St Cat's', and 'More New Girls at St
Cat's', in which Trudy's great-granddaughters first entered the
hallowed halls of St Catherine's High School for Girls.


Part I

Chapter 1:- Morning After

I woke up with a thumping headache. My left tit was numb where Smegs
had been lying on it. I opened one eye and looked around Moggie's
sitting room. If the inside of my mouth was any judge, it was five in
the morning. Bodies were littered around, mostly girls in flimsy harem-
style clothing. For a moment I imagined we had all been abducted and
sold into sex-slavery. The moment passed. Reality was far, far worse.
This was St Cat's, and tomorrow, or rather, today, was the end of the
Autumn Term. It would soon be Christmas. As if I didn't have enough
worries.

Cautiously, I sat up, and the little man with the pneumatic drill had
another go at the inside of my head. Turn it off, you sadistic bastard.
There was the couch, without Moggie. She must have woken up and gone to
bed. I hoped she appreciated her new tits. She was one of half a dozen
victims of last night's Arrival of the Boob Expanders. I would need to
have a word with the First Form Sexual Chemistry girls.

Looking further afield, I noticed the twins, Cindy and Melanie, lying
in abandoned pose down by my feet. Their breasts were far bigger than
they had ever been before, even allowing for the fact that they had
been breast feeding constantly for two and a half years. I gazed on
them fondly. Nine children each, and all under the age of three. More
on the way.

Over in the corner lay Pasha Desmond, although his girlfriends, Belinda
Balloons and Donna Dumbo, had wandered off somewhere during the night,
perhaps to investigate the sudden arrival of their real breasts after
all these years of make-believe ones. And somewhere, somewhere, was
Shona, classmate of Suzanne and Pansy, the perpetrators of this mayhem.
Shona, until last night a chubby, happy youngster, now endowed with a
monster pair of whoppers.

You've done it this time, Suzanne and Pansy.

A figure stirred, and emerged from a pile of bodies. I recognised
Victoria, Pansy's older sister. She crawled toward me, her big breasts
swinging heavily beneath her body inside her harem costume. "Morning,
Miss!" she said brightly.

"Is it? I may take your word for that, Toria," I said. "Were you
involved last night?"

"You should know, Miss. You wrote me out of the action yet again. You
spent the whole of the last two chapters talking about my younger
relations, and all I got was a couple of paragraphs. Despite my being
the prettiest, bustiest girl in my class."

"Toria, we've had this out before. Stay in character, or you're going
to Peru."

"You could have had *me* sprayed with boob juice, instead of that
Shona."

"Peru's very nice at Christmas, Victoria!"

"Oh, no, you had to spray that fat little cow. Even Anastasia got a
pair, for Chrissakes! And those twins, who don't need them, cos they're
lactating all the time...!"

The phone rang. "I'll answer that if you'll just get it for me, Toria,
please," I said. She brought the phone over and put it in my hand,
still muttering rebelliously.

"Hello?"

...

"Yes, she's here. I was just talking to her."

...

"She'll need to pack, but apart from that, she's ready, yes."

...

"Just her, not the others?"

...

"What time?"

...

"Gosh! It will be tight, but we could get a cab to take her straight to
the airport."

...

"Right! No, no trouble at all. Thanks. No, thank YOU!"

I handed Victoria the dead receiver. "Right. Go to your dorm, change
into your best clothes and be ready for a taxi arriving in half an
hour. Your Mummy and her boyfriend are off to Japan on business, and
they're taking you with them."

"Japan? Golly! For Christmas!"

"Japan. Yes, it's not Peru, but it will do quite nicely. Off you go."

I always think a teacher needs to have that ruthless streak, don't you!

**********

I was up now, and almost wide awake, so there didn't seem much point in
lying down again. I set off on a tour of the house to see if I could
find any of last night's victims. The kitchen was empty, and so was the
downstairs toilet. I used it, rather extravagantly and noisily, then
feeling slightly better, I started to creep up the stairs, hoping that
nobody else would want to use that toilet for the next ten minutes at
least. For their sakes.

The bathroom door was ajar, and there were muffled sounds coming from
within. "Hello? Anyone at home?" I pushed it open, but it met
resistance. There was something soft and heavy on the other side. I
pushed harder.

"Ouch," it said.

"Clarrie!"

She held up a finger to her lips to tell me not to make too much noise.
I tiptoed further into the room and saw what she was sitting on. Or,
rather, who. Or even more rather, whom. "He's asleep," she whispered
tenderly. "He fell asleep about an hour ago."

Darren was on his back, his head pillowed on his folded hands, like a
sleeping angel. His mouth was slightly open and he was snoring gently.

"How long have you been fucking him?" I asked.

Without losing her beautiful rhythm, Clarrie looked at her watch.
"Since eleven last night. That's seven hours, on and off. Mostly on,
actually. It's beginning to feel pretty good!"

I felt so glad for her. I gave a little wave and backed out on to the
landing. Let's try along this way. The next room I tried was a bedroom.
The two porn stars were snoring like sawing logs on the double bed.
Lying naked on their backs, their breasts - or in Belinda Balloons's
case, her tits - were a strangely disturbing sight. Belinda's Dunlop
rubber ones had burst and become detached when her real ones had
swelled so dramatically. Donna Dumbo's silicone monsters were now
dwarfed by her genuine flesh and blood ones.

"Psst, wake up!" I hissed at the two women. Donna stirred, opened an
eye and sat up. She dug Belinda approximately in the ribs, and she sat
up, too. Together they looked down at their chests, and both burst into
tears.

"Look at these, my career will be ruined," wailed Donna.

"And mine!" Belinda howled.

"I don't see why, you're both vastly bigger than before. Doesn't size
matter to strippers?"

"But look at them," Donna sobbed. "I was the silicone queen. My tits
were the firmest, solidest tits in the entire US of A. Now they're down
around my crotch!"

"And look at mine," said Belinda, "mine used to dangle way down to my
crotch. Now they're sticking out here. Everyone will think I've had
implants! I'm finished. Done for."

Ungrateful wretches. "Go back to sleep," I suggested, leaving the room
again. The sound of their sobbing diminished to a dull ache. Ah, this
was Moggie's room.

I opened the door quietly. Moggie was in bed, I recognised her moans. I
also recognised the naked buttocks rising and falling in front of my
appalled gaze. A few moments was sufficient to tell me that Jeremy was
at least twenty minutes hard labour away from an orgasm. My experience
of his style also indicated that he was on his fourth shag of the
night: he always slowed down after his first two.

The rest of the bedrooms were empty. Where were those dreadful girls? I
crept downstairs again, into the sitting room. They couldn't still be
behind the couch, surely?

I should have looked there in the first place. Pansy and Suzanne lay
with their arms around each other, like little innocents. Shona lay on
her back, with Anastasia on top of her as if thrown there like an
abandoned and fairly well-endowed rag doll. The cold light of morning
had done nothing to diminish Shona's development. Even Anastasia had a
plump pair now, like small melons. Where was Davie? Hadn't he been
behind here last night?

Ah, yes, there he was. Underneath Suzanne and Pansy. Well, we all have
to go some time. At least, pinned under Suzanne's formidable bulk, he
wasn't going to get up to much mischief. Time to wake them up and have
things out with them.

"Wake up, you lot, it's time we had things out," I said loudly. Shona
stirred and sat up, and Anastasia rolled off her, landing on top of
Pansy. They both woke up, as did Suzanne. In slow motion, they all sat
upright, staring glumly at each other. Suzanne looked at Shona's recent
growth and closed her eyes. When she opened them again, nothing had
changed. "Yes, Suzanne. I see you've noticed what's happened to Shona.
It would be interesting to hear your version of the facts."

"Oh, Miss! It was Pan's fault. She put tit in her mixture instead of
love."

"It wasn't, Miss!" Pansy was indignant. "Suzanne thought she was
putting fuck in it, but she'd got tit instead."

"You had no business making illicit brew anyway, whether it was love,
tit or fuck," I told them. Why did these additives have such horribly
earthy names? "And having made it, to spray it around at random in a
public place."

"Oh, it wasn't at random, Miss! Davie was telling me where he wanted it
sprayed. He thought it was love. Well, fuck, actually," she ended,
sotto voce.

"Wake him up," I told her. Suzanne obliged with a swift kick. Ouch, I
thought; even I felt that, and I haven't any testicles.

Davie obviously felt it too. He rolled on his back, clutching himself
intimately. At least he was awake.

"That wasn't very nice, Suzanne," Pansy told her. "You might have hurt
him, then."

"Serve him bloody right," Suzanne muttered. She's as grumpy as Smegs in
the mornings, I thought.

"What are we going to do about Shona?" I asked, looking round at the
group for suggestions. "And Anastasia, to a lesser extent."

"Anastasia's are her own fault," Pansy insisted, "you know you always
tell us to take care when we're mixing. Well, Anastasia's always
sniffing and tasting."

"I can lend Shona one of my bras and a blouse," Suzanne offered, with
ill grace.

"That's not the point! Look at her," I said. "She goes home today for
Christmas. What is her mother going to say when she turns up with all
that lot under her shirt?"

"We could disguise it, Miss," Suzanne suggested. "If she doesn't wear a
bra, they'll dangle down to her tummy and she can pretend to be
pregnant."

"Hey, brilliant, Suze!" Pansy congratulated her, while Anastasia nodded
eagerly and Davie recovered long enough to applaud. Shona looked
unimpressed, and I think rightly.

"My Mum'll kill me," she predicted confidently. "She didn't want to
send me to St Cat's anyway, in case I came home pregnant."

"Take her over to the dorm, and see if you can find enough clothes to
make her presentable," I told Suzanne. She and Pansy stood up, and
offered Shona a hand to get to her feet. The now-buxom girl refused
their offer, scrambling up without help. She immediately fell on top of
Davie, which would certainly have aroused him sexually if she hadn't
landed full on his pubic area. The others pulled her upright again, and
dragged her away. Anastasia trotted along in their wake. The front door
slammed behind them.

**********

Smegs was cradling her head in her hands when I returned loyally to her
side. "What do you want, you noisy bastard?" she muttered without
looking up.

"How are you feeling?" I asked solicitously.

"Fuckin' terrible! Never again!"

"Oh, good. I thought you might not be feeling too well this morning.
Hi, Cindy; Hi, Melanie," I called brightly as the twins groaned and sat
up, rolling their tongues round the inside of their mouths.

Cindy mumbled a response, then caught sight of her tits. She looked
quickly at Melanie, who was looking at hers. They looked at each other,
then at me.

"Don't look at ME, it's not my fault. Blame your cousins' daughters!" I
don't know if they fully appreciated the subtleties of the apostrophe
in that statement, but they seemed to know who I was talking about.

"Those little bastards, I might have guessed," grated Cindy.

"Look at our tits!" Melanie suggested. I already was.

"They're quite nice. Not too vast, not like some I've seen. Nice shape!
You should see Dumbo's; not at all pleasant to look at, her implants
are..."

"Never mind Dumbo's implants," interrupted Cindy rudely, "what about
*these*? Are they going to get smaller, or what?"

I tried to explain. "How can they get smaller? They're not party
balloons, not cows' udders, they're your breasts. That's how big they
are now. You aren't going to suffer spontaneous regression."

"Spontaneous what?"

"Sorry, I thought a bit of medico jargon would lend veracity to my
narrative."

"Nah, leave that sort of thing to the experts."

"Yeah, I s'pose so," I sighed. Plenty of experts around. In that case,
I won't bother trotting out the old parenchymatous hypertrophy, then.

I sighed, didn't I? "Where were we? You will have to get used to them
being this size. Perhaps a foot or so bigger in circumference when the
milk comes in..."

Cindy interrupted again, this time with a wail and a flood of tears.
Her sister tried to comfort her.

"Oh, shut up howling, you stupid cow," she told her. Cindy stopped
instantly.

"We'll sue St Cat's," Melanie threatened.

"If you think anyone would believe you, go right ahead," Smegs said,
joining the conversation for the first time. The twins shut up and
looked glumly down at their mountainous udders. "How many more victims
were there last night?" Smegs asked me in the sudden silence.

I counted them on my fingers. "Balloons and Dumbo. They're upstairs
asleep. Together, but alone, strangely enough. Moggie's up in her room;
Jeremy was just finishing. One of the First Formers, Shona, has got a
bit huge, and the others have taken her to find some clothes and a bra
for her. And the twins, of course. Not too bad, all things considered."

"Could be worse," Smegs agreed, "specially with Christmas coming. How
big's Moggie this morning?"

"Manageable. She'll be able to walk. Not as big as she used to be,
even."

Smegs rose to her feet. At moments like this, she can be magnificent, a
veritable tower of strength. She offered a hand in turn to the twins,
pulling them up. They stood there unsteadily, their breasts bumping
into things as they looked around them.

"Right," said Smegs. "It's going to be a busy day. Lots to do before we
break up for the Holidays." She drove the twins before her like sheep.
"Come on, let's get you a taxi. You'd better get back to all your
babies."

"Bye, twins," I said, "see you at Christmas." They didn't answer. They
can be really impolite sometimes.

Smegs called over her shoulder. "You'd better get your arse over to the
First Formers' dorm, Shan, and sort them out before the little
darlings' mummies start arriving to collect them."

"Yes, Megan!"


Chapter 2:- Dressing Appropriately

I went up the steps and into the new Dawkes Memorial Dormitory Block.
The First Form dormitory was the one with the noise coming out of it.
The rest of the school was still asleep. I went in. The scene was like
the climax of a harem adventure story.

Naked or half-dressed schoolgirls thronged about, arguing. In the
centre stood the imposing figure of Shona. Slightly taller than the
others, she was now larger in several other vital dimensions as well.
Pansy was standing on a chair behind the well-built girl, holding a
blouse against her. "This one's no use, either, Suze," she complained.
"It's not just her boobs, it's the rest of her that's too big."

I could see it was going to be a problem. Shona was bigger in the body
than any of the others in the class. Suzanne was probably the nearest
in bulk, with her puppy fat, but Shona was taller, with longer arms and
broader shoulders.

"You'd better come with me," I told them. "Bring Shona. This is an
emergency, we're going to have to visit the Lower Sixth dorm."

"Yes, Miss," they said meekly. Pansy got down off her chair as Suzanne
gathered up the remains of Shona's scattered clothes and dumped them on
her bed. They followed me out of the dorm into the corridor. Suzanne
and Pansy were still wearing their ridiculous harem clothes.

"Will we find a blouse to fit her, Miss?" Pansy skipped along beside
me. "She's enormous, isn't she, Miss? It's Suzanne's fault, Miss."

"No, it's not!" Suzanne said, routinely. We stopped outside the Lower
Sixth dormitory, and I cautiously opened the door. It was dark and
quiet, apart form gentle snoring. There was a marked smell of Lower
Sixth Form girls, mingled sweaty socks, underwear, supermarket
deodorant and farts.

I approached the nearest bed, and suppressing a shudder, shook the foot
of the occupant. There was a muffled shriek as the bedclothes heaved
and two sleepy faces looked out at me.

"Good morning. Sorry to wake you," I said broadmindedly. "Whose bed is
this?"

"Mine, Miss," came a voice from across the room. "There wasn't room, so
I had to get in with Melissa."

I turned, and two more faces peered at me expectantly from the bed
opposite. The First Formers were taking in the scene with rapt
expressions.

"Are we short of beds in here?" I asked.

"'Course not, Miss, the girl Melissa laughed. "But we have to keep the
beds at the other end free, in case of boys, Miss!"

"You have boys in here?" I was horror struck. Boys in the dormitory!
Shame! To think that these girls had boys in their dorm. In my day all
we had was Strip Monopoly. Melissa was peering up the length of the
dormitory. She shook her head sadly.

"No, Miss. Sorry! None at all last night, Miss. But we like to keep
beds available, just in case. The boys probably wouldn't like watching
lesbians, Miss."

"Oh, I wouldn't be too sure about that, Melissa," I said to her, "I
think you may find they get quite turned on by it!"

"Do they, Miss?" Other pairs of girls were now sitting up and taking
notice.

"You mean we could carry on in our own beds, Miss, instead of moving up
to that end if we have a boy in, or down this end if we want to fuck a
girl?" The speaker was a staggeringly beautiful doe-eyed girl with
maddeningly full lips and a bust which was spectacular even by the
exalted standards of the Lower Sixth Form at St Cat's.

"Who are you," I asked her, "without wishing to be rude, I don't
remember seeing you before."

"Oh, no, Miss, I'm just a visitor, I'm, Sarita, Davina's girlfriend!"

"Where's Davina?"

She indicated a gently moving lump beneath her bed covers. "She's down
here," she said with a slightly preoccupied smile.

"I see. You don't need to call me 'Miss', Sarita. You're not a St Cat's
girl."

"Thank you, Miss!"

"You are, however, exceedingly attractive!"

"Thank you, Miss!"

"So attractive that if I were to describe you more fully, a great
number of people across the world would become extremely aroused."

"Golly, Miss! Am I as pretty as that?"

"If I wasn't in loco parentis, Sarita, I would be strongly tempted to
give you a good licking-out!"

"But you're not in loco parentis, Miss. I'm not a St Cat's girl."

"Unfortunately, I have other matters to attend to, Sarita. Life's a
bastard."

I turned to look for the First Formers. Shona was still standing there,
topless, in her harem pants. The other two had wandered off. I saw them
inspecting Melissa's breasts from very close range, squatting beside
her bed. Being well-bred girls, the Lower Sixth Formers made no mention
either of Shona or the antics of the cousins.

"We need some clothes for Shona," I said. "She grew last night."

With a rustle of bed covers, a bevy of busty girls gathered round
Shona, who tried to cover herself with her hands. They weren't big
enough, by a factor of about ten.

"She's BIG for a First Former, isn't she, Miss!"

"Did these all grow in one night, Miss?"

"I've got a bra that ought to fit her, Miss!"

They rushed around, returning with a selection of clothing in the
larger bust sizes. Pansy and Suzanne sat on a bed watching their elders
and betters as they draped the chunky girl in borrowed finery. I wasn't
sure why it was necessary for the Lower Sixth Girls to take Shona's
harem pants and panties off as well, but presumably they had their own
good reasons. Finally, the crowd dispersed and the girls stood back to
study the effect.

"Well? What do you think, Miss," Melissa asked, anxiously.

"She looks very nice, Melissa," I said.

She did, certainly, although whether her loving parents would agree was
another matter entirely. Shona was wearing one of the shortest St Cat's
skirts I had ever seen. As her dressers slowly rotated her for my
inspection, her legs looked endlessly long and shapely in very dark
stockings, and one could see the creamy curves of her plump yet taut
bottom peeking out from beneath the hem of the skirt. Above the
equator, her blouse was one of the local outfitter's larger sizes.
Shona didn't fill it to anything approaching the maximum, but that only
made it look even more outrageous, somehow. There was plenty of room
for further growth in the billowing white cotton blouse, yet her
breasts thrust out magnificently underneath, with creases radiating
from the tiny points of her erect nipples. They showed even through the
stout fabric of the dark blue Junior ScatBra donated by Sarita. Even as
I was inspecting Shona, two of the girls were attending to her hair,
tying it up in ribbons and ponytails.

"Very nice, indeed," I concluded, and the girls exchanged gleeful high
fives at my vote of approval.

"Are your parents collecting you today, Shona, or are you going on the
shuttle bus to the station?"

"My Mum's coming for me, Miss. She's still going to kill me though,
Miss!"

Ungrateful bitch, I thought, after all we've done for you. "If any of
you girls have a few spare bits of clothing for Shona, something she
can change into until her mother can buy her something more
suitable...?" The Lower Sixth rallied round, piling clothes into
Shona's unappreciative arms. I thanked them, and called to Suzanne and
Pansy. "Come along, then, time to start packing your bags, girls!"

We left the dormitory, and a small but intense orgy broke out behind us
among the aroused girls. Shona was having some difficulty walking, I
noticed for the first time, on a pair of shoes with rather higher heels
than she was used to. She tottered along with us, towering above her
two classmates, who looked up at her with awe.

"I can see right up your bottom, Sho," said Pansy, exploring beneath
the girl's skirt with an eager little hand.

"You've got the biggest titties in the whole of the Juniors, Sho!" said
Suzanne.

"My Mum will kill me," she repeated.

**********

Back in the dorm, the rest of the First Formers were up and about,
packing their bags excitedly. They greeted Shona with cries of
admiration.

"Gosh! Look at your skirt!"

"Golly, Sho, you're ENORMOUS!"

"You can see right up her bottom," demonstrated Pansy, and a crowd
gathered, waiting patiently in line for their turn to peer up into the
forbidden territory of Shona's groin.

"Gosh!" they all said, lost for words.

A Third Form girl appeared at the door. "Miss Gruntworthy. Phone call
for you in the office."

"Carry on, girls!, I said.

**********

"Tanya!"

"Hi, Shan! Look, I'm going up to Grandma Trudy's for a day or two. I'm
calling from the station. I'll get a taxi to St Cat's and go back with
Sir Roger and Clarrie in the Range Rover. Will the girls be ready to go
in half an hour?"

I tried to remember where everyone was. "Suze and Pansy are here,
getting packed. Clarrie's fucking Darren in the bathroom over at the
house. I haven't seen Sir Roger since last night. Davie's somewhere
around, recovering from his injuries. I don't think I've forgotten
anybody. But how are you all going to get into the Range Rover?"

"It's only six of us," said Tanya.

"You obviously haven't seen Clarrie recently. You know I'VE got bigger
tits even than you, now?"

"How could I forget a mere matter of thirty inches?"

"Well, Clarrie's are even bigger than mine! A matter of a mere thirty
inches!"

"Shee-it! what happened to her?"

"A batch of extra strong tit-brew. She's lactating as well, of course,
and ten times as horny as before. It might be as well if you didn't all
try to get into the Range Rover, I was thinking."

"Hmmm, perhaps you're right! We'd better go by train."

"Well," I said, "if you're not in a tearing hurry to see Grandma Trudy,
why not bring the girls down to Fillamore Deepleigh with Smegs and me?
Mother and Daddy are keeping open house. You remember Baps? You can see
her again. It'll be a good laugh."

"Hey, why not? If you're sure there'll be plenty of room. I was only
going with Sir Roger because it made transport easier, but if, as you
say, Clarrie's as big as she is, we'd never get in the car anyway.
Right, you're on! I'll ring Grandma Trudy now and make our apologies.
We can get over there to see them after Christmas."

"That's great. The girls will enjoy it, as well. One of their ex-
classmates is working down at Baps's Dairy. They can meet up again.
Okay then, Tan, don't bother with a taxi. We'll pick you up from the
station in, say, an hour? Smegs's car. I think we'll all squeeze in.
Big silver Mercedes. No, it's midnight blue now, sorry!"

**********

The First Formers were all sitting on the edges of their beds, their
bags packed. Proud parents would start arriving for them at any time.

"Suzanne, Pansy? Ah, there you are." They stood up and looked at me.
"You're coming with Ms Mountains and me. There's been a slight change
of plan. Your mother is at the station and we'll pick her up there."

They looked at each other uncertainly.

"What about Davie?" Pansy asked.

"He'll be going back with Clarrie and Sir Roger." Pansy looked close to
despair. Or panic.

"What about Toria, Miss? And Pansy's Mum?" Suzanne looked anxiously up
at me.

"Sorry, didn't I tell you? Victoria is going with her parents to Japan
for Christmas. There won't be room for Pansy to go as well, so she's
coming with you. With us." That ruthless streak again. No point in
keeping Pansy guessing. Anyway, she'd have far more fun with Suzanne
and the rest of us. God! What was the matter with her now? Not another
of these ungrateful bitches.

Suzanne hugged her cousin's face to her all-enveloping bosom. "She'll
be all right, Miss, it's just been a bit of a shock, that's all. It's
not every Christmas that a young girl finds her mother and her sister
being written out."

I thought of rebuking Pansy sharply, for being a cry-baby - or Suzanne,
for erosion of the readers' suspension of disbelief - but decided that
it would be more humane not to, especially at the Season Of Goodwill To
All Men. And to All Girls, presumably. Instead, I prised Pansy's arm
free from Suzanne's embrace and looked at her watch.

"Right, then, girls," I addressed the whole dormitory. "Bring your bags
and wait in the main entrance lobby. The first shuttle bus to the
station will be leaving in half an hour, and those of you with loving
or caring parents will be collected shortly.

They formed a loose scrummage at the doorway, or possibly it was a ruck
or maul. I'm not too well up on sporting terms.

**********

Meanwhile, back in the staff quarters, Smegs was changed and ready. I
gazed critically at her.

"Do you think that's an altogether suitable mode of dress for a
Christmas visit to my parents, Megan?" I enquired.

"What's wrong with it?" she said, somewhat aggressively, smoothing her
hands down the sides of her skirt.

"The skirt's not a terrible problem, although it could perhaps be a
little longer. The crotch of your panties *is* visible, after all."

"Of course it is, when you crouch down on the floor!"

"I can still see it from up here," I insisted, struggling to my feet.
"There's a patch of moisture on it, too."

"I can't help that," said Smegs, "I caught sight of myself in the
mirror and came over all horny!"

"That's not surprising. Look at that top! I know you don't NEED a bra,
per se, but... what do you call that thing, anyway?"

"It's a string vest. A singlet. It belonged to a boyfriend, but I stole
it. Don't you just love the way the nipples poke through the holes?"

"That's the whole point, Smegs. You can't drive around in public
looking like that. What if we get stopped for speeding again?"

She just smiled mysteriously and said nothing, and I suppose I saw her
argument.

"We've got some extra passengers, anyway," I told her. "Suzanne and
Pansy, and we're collecting Tanya from the station. They're coming home
with us."

Even that piece of exciting news didn't cheer her up. What was the
matter with the woman? It was supposed to be Christmas, for Chrissakes.
It was better not to talk to her when she was like this.

I went next door and selected my outfit for travelling. Gosh, I
thought, had this skirt shrunk? Surely not, leather doesn't shrink,
does it? It must have done. I managed to get it up over my hips,
somehow, and tried to fight my way into an extra-huge T-shirt. Ooops!
Oh, dear!

Pity, that had been a nice shirt, I thought, peeling the remains off
and dropping the two halves of the useless thing into the waste bin. I
would simply have to wear my bra after all.

**********

The atmosphere in the car during the drive to the station was subdued.
It smelled a bit of warm leather, too, and intimate juices, but the
air-conditioning took care of it after a while. Suzanne and Pansy
chattered away in the back seat, but Smegs said nothing. I occupied my
ever fertile mind by working out the average measurements of the four
of us, or five, as it would be when we collected Tanya.

Golly, I thought, seventy-two and a half, twenty-three, thirty-five!
That's the sort of information that so excites one's American readers.

"There's Mummy," shouted Suzanne, excitedly, "over by the telephone
boxes."

Tanya was dressed rather severely, I thought, in a loose, baggy sweater
and shapeless jeans. She really should try to make more of herself. No
wonder she hasn't a boyfriend! I leaped out and opened the back door.

"Hi, Tan, you're looking great!" We embraced, surrounded by bustling
crowds. A train had just come in. People were gaping in disbelief at
us. Smegs had climbed out of the drivers' seat, and the two girls were
hopping up and down in excitement. I wished Suzanne had worn a more
effective brassiere; she was letting down the image of St Cat's,
bouncing around like that.

We climbed back into the Mercedes again, all rebounding breasts and
acres of creamy thigh. A passing TV crew filmed us in case we were an
important news item. Smegs engaged drive and we slid away from the
kerb. I waved royally to the crowds, and the girls blew kisses.

"It's all right, Smegs," I said, "we can stop again when we get out of
the town. You'll be able to put your string vest back on, then. I
looked down at my nipples, almost splitting the vast red bra cups.

"I suppose I should have worn something over the top of this bra," I
said. "It *is* nearly the end of December, after all!"


Chapter 3:- Driving Home For Christmas

"Did they find Sir Roger, back at St Cat's?" Tanya asked as soon as
Smegs had struggled into her inadequate top and squeezed her breasts
back behind the wheel.

"They were just getting into the Range Rover, when I saw them. Clarrie
was in the back with Darren, Davie was in the front seat."

"Darren!" I said. "They've taken him back with them? Isn't that
kidnapping, or something?"

"I assume he went of his own free will. Clarrie's free will, anyway. As
soon as they got in, she climbed on top of him. I expect Davie was
quite relieved. Clarrie must weigh half a ton with those tits."

"Are they really bigger than yours, Shan?" asked Tanya.

"You should see them, Mum," Suzanne said in wonder. "They're like...
dustbin bags. Well, not the same colour, but the same size."

"And the milk!" Pansy squeaked. "Last night, she was fucking Sir Roger
at the fancy dress party, and there was milk squirting all over the
place."

I thought it would be better not to look at Tanya at this moment. "You
were *watching* all this going on?" she asked her daughter.

"No, not all the time. Most of the time, we were watching Shona's
titties growing."

"And Anastasia's," Pansy reminded her. "Far more interesting than
watching fucking."

"And then Davie tried to steal the boob-spray off me, and in the end I
had to let him decide who we were going to spray it on."

"Except that you didn't know it was boob-spray. YOU thought it was
fuck..."

"Pansy! Language! Sorry about that, Shan," Tanya apologised.

"I wasn't swearing," said Pansy, puzzled. "That's what was in the
spray. Fuck. Well it wasn't, actually, 'cos Suze was supposed to put
love in it, but she thought she'd try some extra fuck instead, and she
finished up with tits...!

"What are you talking about?" Tanya had begun to sound desperate. "What
are they talking about, Shan?"

Don't ask!

"Oh, it's some Love Potion they've been working on in Chemistry. Sexual
Chemistry. It's fairly harmless." I managed not to look Tanya in the
eye.

"Oh, good. I thought for a minute it was stuff for making girls' tits
grow. At least, if it does, it hasn't affected these two."

"No, we always take extra care, and we get the others to do the
mixing," said Suzanne.

I thought this perhaps wasn't the best time to raise the subject of the
suddenly excessively hirsute and overdeveloped Sally-Anne of the Third
Form.

"That's why Anastasia grew," said Pansy, "she sniffs it all the time.
Hers are as big as..." she looked around for inspiration. There being
no breasts or fruit of comparable size in the car, she demonstrated
with her hands, "... as big as this!" After a few seconds, she revised
her estimate upwards. "Or this!"

"But she's only ten!" Tanya said in horror.

"No," said Suzanne, "it's all right, she's eleven and a half!"

"So's Shona," said Pansy, "and look what you did to her. She's even
bigger than Ms Mountains!"

Smegs said nothing, but a steely glint came into her eye. Her knuckles
whitened on the steering wheel and she pressed more firmly on the
accelerator.

"Did the twins get away all right?" I asked her, changing the subject.

"I suppose so. I phoned for a taxi and left them in the entrance lobby.
Miserable, moaning bitches, both of them. Just because they've suddenly
grown enormous tits."

"Them as well?" shrieked Tanya.

"I hope they got home all right," I said, "they'd be needing to feed
the babies. Or some of them."

Smegs shrugged her shoulders, and one breast slipped out of her string
vest in a most disturbing manner. I tucked it back in, but she never
even thanked me. "Their nannies have enough milk to feed an army of
kids. Are we seeing *them* over Christmas as well?"

"I can't remember. I think I invited them. But I seem to have invited
nearly everybody. It might be as well if they don't all choose to turn
up."

**********

"Mother, you remember Tanya, from whenever it was, five years ago?"

"Of course, how could I forget? Darling! And Megan! And these are two
of your St Cat's girls?"

"Two of our First Formers, Suzanne, Tanya's daughter, and Pansy,
Tanya's niece." The girls said how d'you do, politely, like real St
Cat's girls. They almost curtseyed.

"Tanya doesn't look old enough to have such a big daughter," Mother
beamed.

"I'm not," Tanya grinned, "they're only ten."

"My goodness!" The girls blushed prettily. Suzanne held her hands
behind her back and swivelled from side to side. The effect was quite
alarming. Pansy sucked her thumb and lowered her head. Little buggers.
"Daddy's out buying another car, he'll be back by tea time. He'll be
impressed by our house guests!" I thought, yes, he probably would.

Smegs had better change out of that string vest thing before Daddy
comes home, I thought. "Bring your bags, girls, I'll show you to your
rooms. You're with me, Smegs, Tanya's in the small room, the girls in
the attic. Walk this way!"

I managed to persuade Smegs into something less revealing in time for
Daddy to come home. In fact, I thought it had showed remarkable
restraint on Mummy's part that she didn't mention Smegs's string vest.
She didn't even mention the fact that all I was wearing apart from my
tight leather skirt was a bra. I suppose she thought it was a very
pretty bra. A ScatBra is truly a work of art, as I always say, but one
would have expected my mother to have warned me of the dangers of
getting a cold on my chest.

I chose a huge floppy sweater dress that Mummy gave me for my birthday
last year. She'd had it knitted specially. Well, of course she had,
they don't make those things to accommodate ten feet of bust. Smegs
wriggled into a T-shirt. Her nipples looked obscene. "Didn't you
*bring* a bra with you?" I asked her with a touch of acidity.

"I'm trying to give them up," she smirked nastily. "And it will give
your Daddy something to look at."

"The Uncontrollable Horniness has worn off now," I scolded her. "Didn't
you notice as we came through the village? Hardly anyone shagging on
the village green. Two and a half years, and every trace of it has
gone."

"I can still dream, can't I?" she said. "Anyway, you know what he's
like about tits. When he gets a sight of Tanya, let alone Suzanne and
Pansy, he won't even look at me. I NEED a head start." There was a
gentle knock on the door, and Tanya put her head into the room.

"Gosh, Megan, you look positively edible in that shirt!" she marvelled.
"Are the girls down yet?"

"No, we'll hear them if they do." We heard a car in the drive. "Ah,
Daddy's home. He's always buying cars these days. Ever since my tits
got so big I couldn't drive, he's had a spare four-by-four for himself.
Shall we go down, then? I'll shout to the girls and tell them to come
straight down to the kitchen when they're ready."

Daddy's eyes came out on stalks when he saw Smegs's bulging shirt. They
came out another couple of inches when he was introduced to Tanya. And
when the two cousins came into the kitchen, he slumped into a chair,
his jaw hanging open. So was mine. I had only seen the girls in school
uniform for the past four months. Their appearance came as a shock to
me now.

Pansy was wearing cut-off jeans and an abbreviated top that extended to
only just below her nipples. Well, it was below them most of the time.
Suzanne wore absolutely nothing but a huge T-shirt that came down to
mid-thigh. She looked as though she'd be taller lying down than
standing up.

All I seem to have been doing lately is describing clothing. I hope
there aren't any men reading this, they'll be bored out of their
skulls.

**********

We heard the squeak of a wheelbarrow wheel.

"Milk-ooo!"

"Is that Baps?" I asked Mother.

"Yes, she's late tonight, I'll give her a shout. BAPS! Come and see
who's here!"

Baps poked her head round the door. "Shan!" she yelled, and exploded
into the kitchen. I flung my arms around her. They only went about a
third of the way round. We disengaged and stared at each other. "Bloody
hell, look at you!" she said.

"Never mind me, what about you?" I said. We hadn't seen each other for
eighteen months at least. I know my tits had grown enormously since
then, but Baps...! Words failed me. Weakly, I turned to the others.
"You haven't seen Smegs for ages, have you? And Tanya, remember Tanya,
from way back?"

Baps waddled across to Smegs and hugged her. Their arms went almost
halfway round each other. An improvement, at least. Tanya and Baps
kissed each other on both cheeks. "Who are these two?" Baps asked,
indicating the two young cousins.

"Suzanne's mine," said Tanya, "Pansy's my sister's girl."

"Both at Cat's, are they? How old are you two? Thirteen? Fourteen?"

"Ten," said Suzanne. "Our sister's twelve, but she's had to go to
Japan. "I've got the biggest titties, though," she claimed modestly.

"I can see that," Baps laughed. "You know young Curse, then?" Baps was
referring to Kirstie Wykehame-Arthurstone-Smythe, who had suffered a
nasty case of boob juice in the St Cat's school lab.

"Is she here?" asked Pansy, excitedly.

"Can we see her?" shouted Suzanne.

"I'll tell her you're down here. She works in the dairy." Baps turned
to Tanya. "She's a great milker, is Curse. St Cat's sent her down after
her boobs got enormous, and she started pumping milk out all over the
place. She's our Number One milker now, she's doing just about all our
yogurt output single handed." A thought occurred to her. "Your two
aren't milking, are they?"

"God, no!"

"Pity. We've found that the younger ones give sweeter milk. We get a
lot of demand from our customers for teen milk! And sub-teen milk is as
rare as rocking-horse shit. I could offer them a steady job, and they
get taught as well, while they're being milked. We had to do that, or
Brussels would have closed us down."

"Brussels?" I asked her. "I wouldn't have thought they had any
legislation dealing with employing lactating schoolgirls in the dairy
products industry."

"Forty seven pages, they say. Europe thinks of everything. Anyway," she
said. "Enough about business. How are you doing, Shan? Working at St
Cat's, now, I hear? And what about these?" She prodded one of my
breasts.

"Oh, they're nothing," I blushed and looked down. I could see Suzanne
and Pansy giggling and nudging each other. "They just grew, that's all.
But you're a fine one to talk!"

"Who, me?" Baps laughed, and everything shook. "I don't know whose
fault these are, but they're great, as far as I'm concerned. And
they're still growing! I haven't measured them for ages, but they still
keep getting heavier by about a couple of pounds a month. Each!"

"How do you weigh them," I asked her, "plonk them on the kitchen
scales?"

"No, I go down the bus station and put them on the speak-your-weight
machine."

"Out in the open, just like that?"

"Well, no, not in winter. Actually, the only way to weigh your tits is
to dunk them in water and see how much water they displace. I had a
date with a bloke who showed me how to do it. I brought him home and we
weighed them in the bath. It made a bit of a mess, but the sex was
terrific afterwards on the bathroom floor. In fact, we forgot to
measure the volume of the water and we had to do it all over again. We
do it fairly regularly now," she ended modestly.

Smegs said, "I heard that was what Archimedes was doing that time when
he ran down the street, naked, shouting 'Eureka'! He was weighing his
girlfriend's tits. What do yours weigh, anyhow?"

"A girl has to have some secrets, Smegs," Baps said. I honestly believe
she was embarrassed.

Tanya shook her head slowly. "I used to think I was big! Then Shan came
along. And they told me about Clarrie getting bigger, too. And now you,
Baps!"

"Who's Clarrie?" Baps demanded.

"She's one of Sir Roger's serving wenches. Sir Roger is Tanya's great
grandfather," I told her. She got sprayed with boob-juice. I sprayed
her, actually. I don't know why; it just seemed the right thing to do
at the time. She grew, instantly, and started giving milk."

"What does she do with it?" Baps wanted to know.

"I think people drink it. She's highly sexually active," I said,
lowering my voice. "And she's........!" I whispered the last bit in
Baps's hear.

"What's a nymphomaniac, Mummy?" asked Suzanne.

"How did you hear that, Suze?" I asked her.

"Hear what, Miss?" said Suzanne, innocently. "It's just a word one of
the girls was using at school."

"It's a woman who..." Tanya started, and ground to a halt.

"You know when you... sort of..." I tried.

"A woman who likes to..." said Smegs.

"I used to be one, Suzanne," Baps explained, "but Miss Gruntworthy
cured me."

"I always thought it was a girl who likes to fuck all the time," said
Pansy, frowning. "Like Clarrie."

"Well, yes, that's one of the things nymphomaniacs do," said Tanya.
"But I wish you wouldn't call it that, it sounds so... coarse...
somehow."

"Oh, you mean we mustn't say 'fuck'?" Pansy looked at me. "That's all
very well, but how are we going to make Love Potion if we can't say
'fuck', and 'tits'."

"Love Potion?" Baps's ears actually pricked up like a dog's.

"Sexual Chemistry," explained Smegs. "St Cat's is famous for it. It's a
refined version of the Uncontrollable Horniness that afflicted
Fillamore Deepleigh a few years ago."

"A few years ago? The place has never been the same." Baps counted on
her fingers. "A few people got better, but most of the village is still
shagging itself senseless night after night. And day after day. You
should see the boys! They hang round the back of the dairy just for a
look at the girls. I keep a hosepipe connected up to the tap to cool
them off when they get too ardent. They're worse when the moon is full.
Like tonight." She rolled her eyes.

"You mean all the boys in the village are horny tonight?" Pansy asked
eagerly.

"Can we go out for a walk tonight, Mummy. Just the two of us. To
explore?" Suzanne clawed at Tanya like an oversexed puppy.

"Not tonight, darling, there'll be plenty of nights to go for walks.
I'll come with you."

"You're a bit old for the village boys, Tan!" Smegs said. "Unless
you're desperate. Tell me when you're going, I'll join you."

"Seen much of Jeremy?" Baps asked me, innocently.

Why was I blushing? Jeremy was YEARS ago!

"Oh, not a lot. I see him every day or so, around the school."

"Jeremy shagged Miss in the lab," Pansy revealed in a hushed voice.

"He didn't do it properly," said Suzanne. "He tried to do it like a
dog! Not very many people know how to do it properly," she said, sadly.

Tanya had a 'how are you going to explain this then' expression on her
face.

Mother saved the day. She looked into the room. "Breakfast tomorrow
morning. Does anybody not like kippers?" Then she stared at Suzanne and
Pansy, who were literally rolling on the kitchen floor. "What's up with
those two?" she said.


Part II

Chapter 4:- Organic Produce

The young cousins never stopped giggling all through breakfast.

"What's the matter with you two?" Tanya finally asked in exasperation.

Pansy looked at Suzanne and burst out laughing. Suzanne tried to keep a
straight face, then she cracked up, too. She pointed weakly at her
plate, and Pansy practically fell off her chair.

"Right, you may leave the table at once!" Tanya stood up and pointed at
the door. Still helpless, the two girls made their way out of the room,
and we heard them laughing as they ran up the stairs. "What was all
that about?" Tanya said.

"Search me," I said, and looked at Smegs. She shrugged. "The idea of
kippers seemed to amuse them rather, but I can't imagine why. There's
nothing inherently funny about kippers, is there?"

"Or sexy?" suggested Smegs.

"Hardly!" laughed Tanya. "Well, we may never know. Who's for walkies
this morning? It's a lovely crisp day. We might even see some of those
horny Fillamore Deepleigh unattached males."

"Deepleigh Horneigh," said Smegs, licking her lips. "Let's walk down by
Baps's. We can watch the milking, see where she's going wrong."

So we did. We left a message for the girls, who were still up in the
attic, and put on our most eye-catching gear. Smegs is the tallest, and
she wore leggings and a skirt short enough to show the cheeks of her
bottom. Tanya is the shortest, she put on a whole selection of T-
shirts, shirts and woollies in various multi-coloured layers. I wore my
jeans and a soft angora sweater that must have consumed twenty pounds
of wool.

With an average bust measurement of ninety inches, we would have
stopped the traffic, if there had been any, but this was Fillamore
Deepleigh.

"Look at you lot!" Baps was struggling up her garden path carrying a
pail of milk. She seemed a little preoccupied, worried, perhaps. "Hang
on a minute. I'll just take Curse's milk indoors, then you can come and
meet the girls. We've got a dozen in at the moment, and they always
flow better when they've got somebody to talk to."

"All right!"

"She's VAST, isn't she?" Tanya whispered. "Doesn't she use her
wheelbarrow around the dairy?"

"No, only on the milk round," I said. "She's all right walking short
distances, but her tits are so heavy, she can't manage more than fifty
yards without her barrow!"

She came out again, gigantic in her white overall. "I'm a bit concerned
about Curse. Her yield is down this morning." Baps brightened. "Anyway,
come on, then. Things have changed since you were here last." She led
us into a new brick-built shed. Music pounded from loudspeakers. "I
took your advice over the music, but none of that classical crap, it
turns the milk sour." Half a dozen girls were sprawled in armchairs
with tubes attached to their teats. A few more were dancing
approximately to the beat in that strangely self-conscious way English
girls have. Their heavy breasts flopped up and down more or less in
rhythm.

"These three are my butter girls. I encourage them to dance, so the
milk comes out half churned. It only needs another couple of minutes
and it's ready to spread on your sandwiches."

"Where's Curse?" I asked her.

"She's in the other shed, through there. I'll just get these girls to
tidy up." She clapped her hands and the girls looked up at her. Baps
turned the volume of the music down, and shouted, "I'm doing a wash
later this morning, so I want all your dirty laundry in the basket.
Especially your panties. I can see at least a dozen pairs tossed in the
corner, and I'm sure you're not all wearing clean ones. You butter
girls, get them off, NOW! And you, Lisa, you'd wear the same pair for
weeks if I didn't chase you!" The girls moaned and began peeling off
their clammy panties, tossing them into the basket where they fell with
a curiously heavy thudding sound. One girl picked up an armful from the
carpet and dumped them in the basket on top of the others. "That's
better," Baps shouted, "carry on, girls!" She turned up the music and
led us out of the door.

"What do you do with the panties?" Smegs asked. Now, how did I *know*
she was going to ask that?

"I wash them once a week, separately from the white coats and towels
and stuff. The panties go in with the dog's blanket. The dog doesn't
mind. They're in a disgusting state, usually. Most of the girls are
sopping wet the whole time."

"You wash them?" Smegs sounded disbelieving. This was heresy. "You
actually *wash* them?"

"Of course, you want us to throw them away? They cost money, and we
have to provide them, the girls wouldn't bother. We don't want them
leaking all over our chairs."

"We'll take them," said Smegs.

"What's the point?" Baps scratched her head. "By the time they've gone
to St Cat's and been washed, and delivered all the way back here, it
would be cheaper for us to buy new ones every week."

"We'll collect them, and deliver new ones. Free of charge. There! You
can't say fairer than that, can you!"

Baps tried to find a flaw in the scheme. "So just run that by me again.
I put all our panties in a bag, every Friday. You come along and
collect them, and deliver an equal number of clean ones, FREE?"

"Not clean ones. NEW ones! Free!"

Baps shook her head again. "I'd go along with that, if you're daft 
enough. It can't be much of a money-spinner for St Cat's, though, can
it? What is it, some sort of tax fiddle?"

"Shall we tell her, Shan?" Smegs looked at me. I nodded. It could do no
harm.

"We sell them," said Smegs, simply. "Most of our stuff is synthetic
these days, but there's a growing demand for organic stains. At a
premium price, of course. The Pacific Rim is very strong on organic
stains, we find. Of course, you could always sell yours direct, but why
go through all the hassle of marketing and shipping for a few quid a
week? Let the experts handle your panties!"

"I usually do," said Baps. "On Saturday nights, mostly." I noticed her
nipples become erect at the very thought of it. Baps couldn't see them,
of course, they were miles away, down at the far ends of her tits. She
stuck out a hand. "It's a deal!"

We had arrived outside a smaller shed. We tiptoed in. It seemed
appropriate; there was a cathedral hush inside. At first we could see
nobody in the gloom, but as our eyes became used to the semi-darkness,
we spotted three girls sitting in armchairs in attitudes of abject
despair. They were watching daytime television.

"We've got visitors," said Baps. Only one of the girls bothered to look
up at us. She yawned expansively, then turned back to the screen. A man
and a woman were sitting on a couch talking in turns to the camera.
When one of them wasn't talking, he or she sat and stared at the other
one. I suppose this was what they called sexual chemistry. I think I
preferred the St Cat's version.

"Come on, show some interest," Baps shouted, and all three girls turned
and looked.

"MISS!" One of the girls detached herself from her chair and lumbered
over to me. Curse flung her arms around my neck. Our breasts got in the
way rather. This wasn't the usual greeting I expected from a St Cat's
girl. At last, we separated and inspected each other.

"You're looking gigantic, Kirstie," I told her, and she blushed
prettily.

"Thank you, Miss!" she said. "Miss Baps says I'm our top milker."

"Well, it's good to see you enjoying yourself. How's school going?"

"We do a lot of Maths and English, Miss, but not enough science. I
really miss science." A dreamy expression came over her face. "It used
to be great in the lab..."

I wiped a tear from her eye with my sleeve.

"How are the others, Miss? Suzanne and Pansy?"

"You'll see Suzanne and Pansy soon, Kirstie. They're down here for the
holiday. This is Suzanne's mother." Tanya said 'Hi!', and Curse looked
her up and down.

"Gosh, you're almost as big as Miss Gruntworthy. You're almost as big
as ME!" she gasped. "Does that mean Suzanne will be as big as me when
she grows up?"

"Probably," sighed Tanya.

"Ooooh, goody! I'd hate to be the only one this size."

"When did you start getting so big, Curse?" Tanya asked.

"Just after I fell in the tank of boob-juice, I was being chased by a
mouse at the time. I suppose I should have been looking where I was
going. Still, too late now!"

She was right about that.

The other two girls in the armchairs were sitting up and taking an
interest in the conversation. They were much older than Kirstie,
probably in their late teens. They had started talking to each other,
and a low giggle came from one or other of them from time to time. One
of them suddenly laughed out loud, and everyone looked at her in shock,
as if she had farted in church.

"It's great to see you, Miss!" Curse quivered all over in ecstasy, like
an oversized puppy. "And to think I'll be seeing the girls later. Miss
Baps! I wonder, could I be milked again, do you think? I'm coming over
all milky!"

The other two girls joined in. "Yes, please, Baps! Can we go back in
the music shed and get milked? Please!"

"I think that would be all right," Baps beamed at them. "Can you two
manage butter. Shelley? Marguerite?"

"Butter! Could we? Oooh, yes, PLEASE!" the two were practically wetting
themselves, grabbing at their crotches with both hands and jigging up
and down, all four of their plump village-girl breasts bouncing
independently.

"Off you go, then! Kirstie, you go on your usual machine."

"Will you let me do butter one day, Miss Baps, please?"

"When you're grown up, Curse. There'll be plenty of time for you to
make butter."

"I don't know if I'll ever be able to let Curse do butter. She's so
big, she's likely to do herself some damage," said Baps, after the
girls had gone, leaving an aroma of fresh urine and ripe girl juices in
their wake. "It certainly cheered them up, having visitors. Let's go up
to the house and have a cup of tea." We set off, wondering what we'd
done to turn the milk on so abruptly.

"Oops, hang on..." and Baps diverted into the shed. "Nearly forgot your
panties," she said, emerging with a basket overflowing with dank
underwear.

I could see Smegs wrestling with her moral dilemma. What was she to do,
turn away this cornucopia of organic panties, or make a sound business
decision.

"Oh, right," she said. "I was thinking about after Christmas, actually.
But, okay, I'll bring you some clean pairs tomorrow, if that's soon
enough?"

Baps drew her breath in sharply and considered. "Wow. I think we can
just about manage until then. Although some of the girls are going to
get a bit poo-ey."

"No problem," said Smegs. "No problem at all!"

"I'll carry that basket, Baps," volunteered Tanya. "It's no problem,
honestly."

**********

We lounged around, slurping coffee. Smegs was stuffing the panties from
the basket into a dustbin bag. Steam rose gently from the basket.
Occasionally, she sniffed a particularly attractive pair
appreciatively. I've never really shared her excitement over crotch
stains, but each to her own, I always say.

Tanya, though, offered to help. "Please, may I give you a hand?" she
pleaded, and Smegs reluctantly moved over. "My sister and me used to
enjoy panties and stuff when we were quite little. Relatively little,
anyway."

"What about these, then, Tan?" Smegs handed her a pair of virginal
white ones. Well, they had been white once. Tanya buried her nose in
them.

"Bloody hell, I'd like to meet her!" She offered them to me.

I wasn't feeling too good.

"Whose are they?" Baps held out her hand for them. "Ah, yes. Jenny's.
She's always been highly productive."

"You can IDENTIFY them from their knickers?" Tanya asked, with deep
respect on her face.

"Not all of them, but most of the best ones. Those, for instance..."
she pointed to a pair of dark red ones.

"These?" Smegs held them up. "We call these 'type D' stains."

Baps took them from her. "I'd hate to see the 'type E' then." I saw
Smegs shaking her head as she started to explain that there was no
'type E'. Not yet, anyway. "But these belonged to young Curse. I can
see where she got the name now..."

The door opened suddenly.

"Hi, Sis, I got some new friends! Bloody hell, what are you up to with
those knickers!"

"Hi, Cassie," said Baps, tossing the red pair into the basket again.
Tanya seized them eagerly. "Girls, you've met my baby sister
Cassandra?"

She'd grown up since the last time. And out as well. She was taking
after her big sister. Cassie advanced into the room, giving the pantie-
sorters a wide berth. It's time for another one of my little sessions
of sartorial notes, if the male readers would like to skip the next
couple of paragraphs.

Cassie was undeniably plump, and then some, so perhaps such abbreviated
cut-off jeans were not such a brilliant idea. Still, for the
connoisseurs of the female buttock, they offered an unparalleled view,
and Cassie's buttocks were particularly fine examples. Cassie's legs
were some of her best features, if you don't mind them in the pillars-
of-oak mould. But having said that, the ankles were surprisingly trim,
the calves powerful and well-muscled, the thighs creamy and - I
imagined - pleasant to have squashed against your face. Perhaps the
crotch of the cut-offs wasn't intended to be *quite* as revealing as it
had turned out, but it can be difficult when you're wielding the
scissors. It wasn't too easy to see if she was a natural blonde,
although the view was better when I dropped to my hands and knees and
peered upwards.

I scrambled back into my chair, worried that Cassie might think I was
staring rudely. I completed my inspection quickly. Above the waist,
Cassie's clothing was more conventional; an extremely large but
nevertheless ridiculously small T-shirt and nothing else. It was
obviously chilly where she had just been.

"Now meet *my* friends," Cassandra said, proudly. They came into the
room.

"Hi, Mum!" said Suzanne, cheerfully. "Golly, what are you doing with
all those knickers?"


Chapter 5:- An Evening's Entertainment

"Cassie's ever such fun, Miss," said Pansy when we were back at home,
toasting crumpets in front of the fire. "She says she still works in
the dairy with Curse, but not all the time. Some nights she says she
feeds the boys down on the village green."

"Can we go with her tonight, Mummy?" asked Suzanne. "She says she'll
let us join the posse. We promise not to feed any boys. We just want to
see how it's done."

"We'll wrap up warm," Pansy promised. "We nearly got frostbite this
morning, walking down to Miss Baps's house. We diddn't really get
thawed out until we got home and gave our nipples a good sucking."

"What, you sucked each other's nipples?" Smegs enjoys that sort of
detail.

"Yuck, Miss Mountains, that's GROSS!" cried Pansy.

"We sucked our own, of course." Suzanne took a bite of her crumpet and
butter squished out to trickle down her chin. Pansy wiped it off with a
cousinly finger and offered it to her.

"I can suck mine easier than Suzanne," boasted Pansy.

"Only 'cos yours are floppier. Mine are so big, I can hardly bend them
round into my mouth!" Suzanne claimed. I could see her point. I
couldn't even reach mine any more. I always thought sucking your own
nipples was an overrated pastime, anyway. I haven't really done it much
since I passed the eighty or ninety inch mark, well over a year ago.

"Can we, then, Mum?"

"Please, Auntie Tanya!"

"All right, then. I want to see you before you go, to see you are
wrapped up properly. It's freezing out there. And you'll be back here
by eight, understand?"

"Oh, Mum!"

"Eight!"

"All right," Suzanne said cheerfully. "Come on, Pan, let's get
dressed!"

"Was that a good idea?" I asked when the door closed behind them.

"I suppose not. But what harm can they come to? They're all in a gang.
It's what I used to do, myself. They just talk, most of the time. All
the same, it might have been better if Victoria had been with them."

I felt a little bit responsible about that, for one reason or another.
"Cassie will look after them". Smegs said. "She must be Toria's age, at
least."

"I suppose so." Cassie was big and strong enough to look after her new
little friends. "What are we going to do? Down the pub?"

"Yeah, why not," said Smegs. "Find a bit of action."

"Oh, yeah, there's no shortage of that down the Bells," I told her,
remembering one particular occasion with a boy called, unbelievably
enough, Orson.

"You hoping for Orson again, Shan-tail?" Smegs leered.

"Who's Orson? Do tell!" Tanya put down her crumpet and leaned forward.

"Just a boy I met."

"If Orson Buggey was just a boy you met, dear, I'd hate to see one of
your regular boyfriends. Ten times on Saturday night and seven more on
Sunday morning," she crowed, and Tanya's eyes opened like saucers.

"Who was counting," she asked. She was actually drooling. I was fast
coming round to the opinion that Tanya was a bit of a horny big-titted
slut.

"Nobody was counting," I said, huffily. "And anyway, the last time she
told that story, it was only nine times and five. And even that was an
exaggeration. She wouldn't know, anyway, she was having a threesome
with Mother and Daddy at the time."

Tanya ran her fingers across the front of her jeans and rubbed herself.
"Bloody hell, you know how to enjoy yourselves in the country, don't
you? What time does the pub open?"

"It's open all day," I said, "Why?"

"Let's get down there now. I haven't had a fuck for months. All that
sniffing those panties earlier has made me hot as buggery."

I was right. Slut wasn't the word for it. "We can't go yet," I told
her. It's only five o'clock. You can't get laid at five, not even in
Fillamore Deepleigh. There's plenty of time, Tan. Have another crumpet.
They make you sexy."

**********

So we waited a while before we went down to the Six Bells. It must have
been nearly seven o'clock when we barged through the door. Tanya was
staring round, looking for prey.

"Which one do you fancy?" she asked, a little too loudly. Several
blokes looked up at her. Once they'd looked, they carried on looking.
Her cleavage was about a mile deep, like the Grand Canyon.

"Put those things away, you're embarrassing us," I told her. "You don't
need to flash your tits in here. Just sit tight and they'll come over
after a drink or two. Remember, Fillamore Deepleigh is the home of the
Uncontrollable Horniness!"

She leaned back a little, looking disappointed, and tugged her jacket
across the yawning chasm. "Is Orson here?" she asked, scanning the
lustful male faces at the bar.

"Not yet," I said, with a touch of regret. I was beginning to feel just
a teensy bit horny myself.

Smegs drained her pint glass and plonked it down. "Well, sod this!" She
stood up and took a deep breath. Eyes began to boggle. Smegs adjusted
her hemline and wriggled her tummy as she tugged down on her low-cut
sweater. Several inches more cleavage appeared. "I'll see you guys
later." She wiggled across to the bar and slithered close to a
reasonable-looking character on a bar-stool. We couldn't hear what she
was saying, but her breast was only inches from his face, so whatever
she said probably wasn't all that important. Within seconds, she was 
sipping a new drink.

"I dunno how she can drink pints of that stuff," Tanya said. She was
rubbing herself again, and I had to look away. Could I pretend I wasn't
with her? She was really embarrassingly over the top with her two feet
of cleavage hanging out in full public gaze. I covered up my own three
feet and took a sip of my pint.

"Cheers!" I said. "Do you think the girls will be all right?"

"They'll be back by eight," she said. "I called Baps. They're going
back to her place with Cassie, and they'll sleep there."

"Oh, good. That sounds like a good idea!"

NOT!

Still, while I'm away from St Cat's, I am no longer in loco parentis.
Thank God for that, anyway. Those two innocent sex-bombs were quite
likely to get up to any kind of mischief. Talk about a waggon-load of
monkeys.

"Look!" Tanya hissed at me. The door had opened and two young men came
in, kicking snow off their boots.

"Raw night, Bert!" one of them greeted the landlord. "Snowin' over the
back of Buggeys' Farm, n' a-comin' this way they reckons."

"You'd better 'ave your usual, then!"

"Aaaar! Make it two." They flopped down on one of the desecrated church
pews that did service as seats around two walls of the Six Bells, and
buried their faces in their glasses. Eventually, they came up for air.

"Is one of them Orson?" said Tanya, starting to hang her tits out
again.

"Yes!" I said. "Oooh, yes, yes, YES!"

Tanya looked at me strangely. She had started to get up. I dragged her
down again.

"It's okay," I told her. "They've seen us. Sit tight. They'll be over
in a minute."

**********

"This is my mate, Carlos. We call him The Jackal."

"Hi," said Carlos.

"This is Tanya. Megan's here somewhere, but she went hunting up at the
bar. How's things?"

Orson looked at me, and my pussy became instantly moist. "Not so bad.
Although I could've done with seeing you." Tanya rolled her eyes. "It's
been a couple of years."

"And the rest," I said.

"Your tits have grown a bit," he said.

"Just a bit. Around six or seven feet more, that's all."

"Yours are the biggest I've ever seen. Apart from Baps's, and hers
don't count. You're pretty huge, too, Tanya!"

Tanya blushed prettily at the compliment. "Oh, these, they're nothing,
compared to Shan's!"

"I know, but shit, they're still fuckin' enormous."

All this smooth talk was making me lustful.

"Why do they call you The Jackal, Carlos?" Tanya asked. What is the
matter with the girl, I thought. What sort of conversation was that?

"I dunno, really," said Carlos, gazing deep into Tanya's chest.

"Is your name really Carlos, it's real romantic, that!"

"No, it's Derek. I dunno why they call me Carlos, let alone The
Jackal."

"Derek's a nice name," said Tanya. No hope for her, I thought. Get it
over with, kid; your place or mine! She wriggled her bottom on her
chair, and as if by magic, Carlos and Orson stood up and changed
places, so Carlos was next to Tanya and Orson was close to me. Very
close.

I could feel the warmth of his thigh and he could no doubt smell the
aroma of my arousal. I slipped an arm around his shoulders. "Remember
that time, Orse, during the Uncontrollable Horniness? You came back to
my place?"

"Oh, that time?"

"That time! How many times did we... well, you know?"

"Bloody hell. Fuckin' 'undreds! I was aching for days!"

"Oooh, so was I! So was I! And soaked!" A bit like now, I thought. A
glance over at Tanya and Carlos revealed that they could safely be left
to their own devices. Tanya was already on his lap, devouring his
tongue. If Carlos played his cards right, he might well get on the
scoresheet tonight. She dragged him urgently on to the padded seat by
the wall behind her chair. More room. More comfortable. Shit, she
wasn't going to have him right here in the Six Bells, was she?. Not
even Baps did that sort of thing any more. Obviously, the
Uncontrollable Horniness wasn't quite dead.

I looked back at Orson, whose hand was somewhere deep inside my
sweater.

"Christ, Shan, you're fuckin' immense!" he complimented me again. But
there was no time for blushing and looking schoolgirlish.

"If it's going to snow," I said, "we'd better be getting back. Tucked
up in bed's the only place on a night like this."

Orson must have been keen. He never even finished his pint.

**********

"Did you sleep down here?" I asked Smegs. It was quite early, about
seven thirty, and I had blundered downstairs in search of coffee for
Orson and me. It might have been a good idea to at least put a
nightdress on, but I hadn't really figured on meeting anybody.

I can usually tell when Smegs is hiding something. She wasn't hiding a
lot with only her panties on, but she had a guilty secret. "Oh,
morning," she said, shiftily, keeping her back against the sitting room
door. "I slept on the couch, in there. I didn't want to disturb you."

"How thoughtful," I said, putting the kettle on and mixing two mugs of
instant.

"Two cups? Well, yes, why not, I will join you."

I took another mug off its hook and spooned coffee into it. "You've got
a bloke upstairs!" she accused me.

"Me? Oh, yes, I suppose so. Just an old friend. He didn't want to walk
back home in this snow." I looked out of the kitchen window. It was
blowing a blizzard out there.

"What time did you sneak out of the Bells, then," she wanted to know.
"I looked round and you were both gone. It wasn't even eight o'clock."

Tanya as well, then. I wondered where she was. "There's yours," I said,
and slid her mug along the counter. Then I picked up the other two and
headed for the stairs. That was when the sitting room door opened
suddenly. Smegs almost tumbled backwards into the room. A large hairy
male appeared.

"Oh, shit!" I suppose I said, being caught stark naked by one of
Smegs's casual amours while trying to carry two brimming cups of coffee
up the stairs. The hairy male studied me for a few seconds.

"Fuckin' Ada," he said, obviously deeply impressed. I suppose he had
every right to be. I was, as I keep reminding you, absolutely stark
bollock naked, tousled and flushed from a night of what can best be
described as fucking. I was on my way back to the arms of my lover. As
a result, I may well have been exuding the odd pheromone or two. My
nipples may well have been erect, although it didn't occur to me to ask
anyone else in the room if they were or not.

"Morning!" I said, as casually as possible, and started to climb the
stairs. I realised my mistake immediately, as the hairy male got an
eyeful of my still-dripping nether regions. And my regular readers will
not need a description of those! I paused with one foot on the step
above, looking back over my shoulder, and saw that he was still
looking, his eyes now as big as dinner plates. I felt a cool breeze
blowing up the stairs and realised that he could probably see right
into my womb from where he was standing. If I opened my mouth, he'd be
able to see daylight. To make matters worse, he had been joined by
another hairy male. Smegs was grinning sheepishly.

"How many have you got in there, Megan?" I asked.

"That's all. Just the two. Dave and Duncan. The others all had to go
home."

"The others?" Smegs, what had you done this time?

"Pete and Sam, they're married. Not to each other. And Les, the other
Dave and Jack. She looked round at the hairy males for inspiration.

"Paul..." one of them prompted her.

"Paul, of course. And Stuart, Shaun and the other Dave..."

"You already mentioned him."

"No this is another one."

"Three Daves?"

"Four, actually. And then there was Andy and Ambrose, Cornelius - he's
Dutch - and Philomena. I think that was all."

The hairy males nodded in confirmation. I noticed for the first time
that both of them were naked apart from their underpants. And during
the course of our conversation, they were becoming prepared for more
action. I had to get away. I turned to edge sideways up the stairs,
keeping my thighs together. "Philomena?" I said, after a double-take.

"She's Irish. Yeah, it surprised me as well," said Smegs. "Philomena
sucks!"

"I'm sorry about that," I commiserated.

"No, don't be! She sucks most expertly."

I had reached the top of the stairs and called over the bannister,
"Well, see you later, then?"

"Sure. Later!" And Smegs ushered the two hairy males back into the
sitting room, although they were still staring at me with their mouths
open.


Chapter 6 :- Naked In The Morning

"Sorry I took so long. Smegs is downstairs with two boys!" I handed
Orson a mug of coffee and he looked me up and down.

"Fuckin' hell, Shan," he said, "you're even bigger in the flesh than
when you're dressed. And you're gigantic when you're dressed. Come
here!"

I can't resist a pretty compliment. I climbed on to the bed and
carefully took Orson's mug from his trembling hand. Then I sat astride
his thighs, facing him. He reached forward and parted my breasts,
piling them on the bed beside his hips. "Everything about you is huge,
Shan!"

"Oooh, Orse! You say the sweetest things!" I suppose living in a
village as Uncontrollably Horny as Fillamore Deepleigh, you learn to
sweet-talk your way to a girl's heart, or preferably about fourteen
inches lower down. That just happened to be where Orson was looking.
Slowly, I slid my bottom up his body in the general direction of his
face. I couldn't see, but I was probably leaving a snail-trail behind
me.

"You've got the biggest pussy I ever saw, Shan," he remarked, pulling
his face out of it for a few seconds, before plunging it back in. He
emerged again with further news of the situation. "Yet it's tight as a
young virgin's. How do you do it?"

I may have blushed a little.

To tell the truth, I don't know. People tell me it's huge, although few
say it as charmingly as Orson just had. Yet if I really concentrate I
can pick matchsticks up with it. Or Coke cans. It's just the way it's
always been. Luck, I guess. Time to get down to business. I heaved his
face out of my soaking bush - it came free with a sucking sound - and
eased my weight upward then down on to him. It slipped in like water
going down a plughole, sort of round and round then slurp, straight in.
I think it went clockwise, for the benefit of those who collect such
trivia.

He felt big inside me. He reached all sorts of places I could never get
to with my fingers. And at the mouth of the cave, all sorts of
interesting things were going on. Within seconds, I was panting and
coming. I panted and came.

"What are you doing?" I asked him. He put down the pencil and notepad.

"Keeping score. I thought I'd better after what you said last night,
about Smegs exaggerating."

"What did we reach, then. I picked up the pad and examined the
squiggles. Can't make head or tail of this lot, can't you write better
than this?"

"Not when I'm coming, no!" He took the page and pointed to it. "Look.
On the left, 'O'. That's me!"

"Oh, good. I thought it might be someone else in here with us."

"And on the right, 'S', that's you."

"It ought to be a 'C'. 'C' for Chauntaille."

"I can't spell that," he said. Not many people can.

"You don't need to. Just put a 'C'."

He changed it. "Now, these marks. Four vertical slashes. And one
across, like a gate, makes five. So that's five, ten, for me, plus one
more slash is eleven."

"Eleven?"

"And five, ten, fifteen, twenty, twenty-five, thirty, thirty-five,
forty, plus four slashes, is forty-four for Big C!"

"No wonder I feel knackered," I said. We humped in silence for a while,
then he made my score up to forty-five. A few minutes later, he added a
wavering slash below the 'O' column. "Well done," I congratulated him.

"It... was... nothing...!" he gasped. He fell asleep after that,
although I continued to grind away on top for another half hour, and
got my score up to the magic fifty. Then I dismounted and walked on
bandy legs into the bathroom.

Daddy was coming out. "Christ, Shan, you look well fucked this
morning," he greeted me paternally.

I blushed a little and went inside. I wondered if it would count as
fifty-one if I did it in the toilet. I decided it might as well, so I
made a point of panting Orson's name as I came. I didn't count the next
two, which took place in the shower.

**********

Breakfast was late. Daddy must have gone straight into the bedroom and
given Mother a good seeing-to after he met me on the landing. Smegs had
got rid of her lovers somehow, and was sitting at the table with her
head in her hands.

"More kippers, Orson?" said Mother.

"Thanks, Mrs Gruntworthy." I leaned my head on his shoulder and felt
all warm and secure. He seemed shy, for some reason, especially when I
slipped my tongue into his mouth, but I managed to persuade him out of
his chair after a brief struggle and we completed our mating on the
floor.

Some time later we resumed our places. Daddy peered out from behind his
newspaper and raised an eyebrow. We exchanged winks. "Is that better,
dear?" asked Mother.

"Much better, thank you, Mother!"

"How many's that, then?" she said.

"Sorry?"

"We've been keeping count ever since you came in. I made it nine to
Orson and forty-three to you. Daddy reckons I missed a few of yours. We
were otherwise engaged some of the time."

"It was twelve, and forty-four," Orson said. "Thirteen with that one
just then!"

"That's *very* good! I'll have to tell the Church Women's Circle about
that."

"Mine is up to fifty-eight," I said. I had decided to include the two
in the shower as well.

"God, I suppose you'll need to go back to bed after breakfast?"

"No, thanks, Mother. We need some rest."

"Is Tanya coming down," Daddy asked.

"I don't think she came home," I said. "She was trying to make
alternative arrangements in the Six Bells."

"Here she comes now," said Mother. It was just like one of those soaps
on the radio. Characters always turn up right on cue.

"Morning all!" Tanya breezed into the kitchen. She looked well on it.
Snowflakes twinkled on the upper slopes of her breasts. "I collected
the girls." Suzanne and Pansy came in, looking around the table.

"You look hungry, Suzanne," said Mother, "sit down."

"They had breakfast at Baps's," Tanya insisted.

"That was ages ago, Mum," wailed Suzanne. "They got up at five. Even
Cassie. She went and got milked, and she let us watch."

"It looked good fun," said Pansy, stripping the skeleton from a kipper
and layering girl-butter on to a slice of brown bread. "And Curse
enjoys it, too, she said."

"Couldn't we try it, Miss? When we get back to St Cat's?"

"I don't think it's a good idea," I told her.

"Oh, MISS!"

"Why do they call you Miss, Shan?" Orson asked.

"I'm their teacher."

"It feels strange. To think that I've been doing it with a teacher all
night!"

"Doing what, Miss?" asked Pansy.

"Having you two been fucking?" Suzanne grinned at us.

"Suzanne!" said Tanya. "Sorry, Mrs Gruntworthy!"

Suzanne was still waiting for a reply.

"We've been making love," I said, and felt Orson's arm slip
comfortingly round my shoulders. I pressed myself against him. "Orson
and I are very fond of each other."

"They've been fucking, Pan," said Suzanne. "That's another name for it,
what Miss called it just then."

"What, making love? It makes it sound all sloppy." Pansy pulled a
disgusted face.

I heard no more, as I was becoming side-tracked. When Orson and I
eventually climbed back on to our chairs and Mother poured fresh coffee
for us, I looked round the table. "Where have they gone?" I said.

"I sent them out to play in the snow," said Tanya. "They didn't want to
go. They wanted to watch you making love on the floor."

"Again," muttered Smegs.

"They said you weren't doing it right," said Tanya, "but it certainly
looked all right from here."

"Oooh, it was!" I assured her, and started to climb into Orson's lap
again.

"Give the boy a break, Shan," said Daddy. "He looks shagged out."

"I'll be all right, Mr Gruntworthy," Orson groaned. I thought I might
have sat on something painful. I kissed him better, and the others all
looked elsewhere. "Is that the time? I'd better be going, Shan. Mrs
Gruntworthy. Thanks for breakfast and everything." He stood up,
although I clawed at his legs to pull him down. "Thanks for having me,
Shan!"

I followed him to the door. He shrugged into his jacket and pulled on a
woolly hat. "You don't have to go out in the snow, Orse!" I besought
him. Some people might say beseeched, but I prefer besought. He kissed
me softly, and I climbed up his leg.

"See you later, Shan," he said. "I'll call you on your mobile, okay?"

"Okay." He went out, and my world crumbled.

"Come on, sweetheart," said Daddy as I crept back into the kitchen.
"You'll see him again soon. Now, why don't you go and get dressed?"

"I suppose so, Daddy." I was still stark naked, after all.

"I'll come up with you," said Tanya.

"How did you get on with Carlos?" I asked her when we were in my room.

"Gosh, it smells sexy in here," she said. "Look at the state of that
bed. It's like a dish-rag." To my amazement, she buried her face in the
bottom sheet. "Hey, that's ALL RIGHT!"

"I came fifty times," I told her, not boasting at all. "Orson scored
twelve."

"Not bad. Carlos couldn't get it up, unfortunately. But his brother
managed it for me in the end. I think it was his brother; we weren't
formally introduced. It might have been his boyfriend. Anyway, I got
screwed. Not twelve times, but better than nothing."

"Oh, Tan! I'm sorry. And I was acting up because Orson had to go home.
And all the time, you were only getting it once. How was it for you?"

"A bit brief," she said with a grin.

"So was our first. He finished in twenty seconds. After that, things
looked up a bit."

"Smegs is quiet this morning," Tanya said. "Did she get it last night?"

"Apparently, yes. She reeled off a list of fifteen boys and one girl,
but only two of them stayed all night. I assume she got laid out of
that lot."

"I could have helped *her*," Tanya groaned.

"You probably could. But never mind. It was only our second night.
We'll get in the Bells again, and you can clean up in there. With those 
things, no problem!"

"God, even the girls did better than me," she squeaked.

"The girls!"

"They didn't get laid. God, I hope not! No, but they took a bunch of
boys to Baps's when it started snowing. Some of them had to stay the
night. Suzanne said she sat on one boy's face. Pansy wasn't saying
anything. Well, if Suzanne decides she's going to sit on a boy's face,
he won't be able to do much about it. She's getting quite strong, and
she's certainly heavy enough to keep any boy on his back."

"That's even if he was trying to get away. Although I don't think I'd
fancy somebody's bum on my face."

"Oh, I dunno," said Tanya. "I can imagine it being quite stimulating. A
bit like sniffing panties. But then, I'm a bit funny about sniffing
panties. Anyway, that's all they got up to. Although Cassie disappeared
for half an hour, apparently, and came back grinning like a Cheshire
cat."

"Little slut," I said. "She's as bad as her sister. Where was Baps last
night, anyway?"

"I saw her this morning when I collected the girls from the milking
sheds. She said hello. She said she came to the Six Bells about nine,
but we'd already gone."

I felt quite ashamed. I had let Baps down, my friend, one of my
bestest. And all for the sake of a shag. Or twelve. Not to mention two
more at breakfast time.

"Is Smegs arranging for some new panties? Baps was asking."

"She called Jeremy at St Cat's, and he's coming over with the van. If
the roads are all right."

She pulled a face. "So that sack of panties is still around somewhere?"

"Tan! You don't want to sniff them again! Not after they've been in
that sack all night. They'll climb out and bite you."

"No! 'Course not. Well, yes, I wouldn't mind diving my face into that
sack one more time. But what I really wanted to do was to put some more
pants in there. The girls' and mine. I know it's not the same when
they're your own, but whatever else they are, they're definitely
organic!"

"It's a pity, you could have had mine. But I didn't wear any last
night. Not even in the pub. You can have my jeans if you're feeling
like a sniff."

I hadn't really expected her to say yes. She practically tore them out
of my grasp and the last I saw of her she was galloping away to her
bedroom.


Part III

Chapter 7:- Two Little Girls

"Hey, Suze, what about your Mum, then?"

Suzanne looked at Pansy suspiciously. "What about her?"

"I reckon she's horny, that's what! She wants an F-U-K-K!"

"A what?"

"A fuck." Pansy whispered it as if it were a rude word.

"You don't spell it like that." Suzanne didn't sound too sure.

"Well how do you spell it, then? Have you ever seen it written down?"

"Not zactly! But I still know. It's F-U-C-K."

"That sounds stupid. I'm going to ask Miss Gruntworthy, she'll know."

"Bet she won't! She won't have seen it written down either. Anyway,
never mind my Mum. What about Miss? She was trying to fuck that Orson
bloke before Mum slung us out here. Come on, give us a hand with this
thing, you can't just stand there and watch me doing all the work."

"My fingers are freezing," Pansy complained. She pushed half-heartedly
at the snowball with one reluctant little hand. "If she was trying to
fuck him, she was doing it all wrong. You'd think she'd know, being a
teacher and everything."

"Maybe she's still learning to fuck. She's a trainee teacher, isn't
she. Maybe she learns fucking when she goes back to college at the end
of the year."

"All right, then. What about your Mum?" Pansy looked both ways and
leaned forward. Suzanne stopped rolling the snowball and listened. "Do
you think she wants a boy to fuck?"

"A boy? Why?"

"Well, that's what you do it with. She must have done it before. She
had you!"

"That needn't have been through fucking. Not with a boy, anyway."

"Well, a man, then. Look, I should know, Suze. I'm pregnant from when
Davie did me and went while I was kissing him. I've got twins."

"I don't know, Pan. I reckon if you were pregnant, you'd have started
to get fat by now. It was four months ago, after all." She grunted and
the snowball started rolling again, getting bigger and bigger. Pansy
leaned against it just as Suzanne gave an extra heave.

"Don't stand there laughing, you fat cow, pick me up," she sobbed.
Suzanne hauled her cousin to her feet, where she stood shivering and
crying.

"Come on, Pan. Let's go in. If they're still trying to fuck in the
kitchen, we won't watch." She put her arm around the smaller girl's
waist and led her into the house.

Half an hour later, fortified by turkey soup and wrapped in huge
towels, the girls huddled in front of a roaring fire in the sitting
room.

"Do you think she wants a boy, Suze? Or a man? 'Cos if she does, we
could find her one."

"Shit, Pan, if she can't find her own man, what are we supposed to do.
She's pretty, and she's got huge tits."

"So are you, Suze, and your tits are pretty huge. But I don't see *you*
with too many boys."

"That's different. She's a woman. I'm only a girl." Which was true.
"How are we going to find her one?"

"We'll use the Love Potion."

"We haven't got any left. We sprayed it all over the crowd at the
disco. A lot of good that did, too."

"I've still got some. In my bag. There was a drop left in the bottle.
It will be enough for your Mum, though."

"It's a pity she's got big tits," said Suzanne. "I've still got some of
that tit-spray left from the fancy dress party. It's in *my* bag. You
might have told *me* about your Love Potion."

"Why didn't you tell me about your tit-spray?" Pansy asked.

"I thought I might use it on you for your Christmas present."

Pansy looked embarrassed. She inspected her plumply-developed chest,
comparing it with Suzanne's. "I was going to give you a spray of Love
Potion for Christmas. Then maybe you'd have got pregnant as well as
me."

They hugged each other for a while. "I love you, Pan," said Suzanne.

"I love you, Suze!"

"Let's do it," Suzanne said fiercely. "Let's spray my Mum, and get her
a man to fuck!"

"If we do," said Pansy, "and if she does. Can we watch?"

**********

"We need to test it out first. We daren't use it on my Mum until we've
tested it."

"Lets take it down to Baps's and try it on one of the girls. Then if it
doesn't work, it won't matter."

So they took both spray bottles and set off into the snow. They trudged
down the village street and arrived at Baps's gate. "There's Cassie,"
said Suzanne, and set off down the slippery path. She wasn't sure what
happened, but probably the size of her tits had something to do with
it. At least, she didn't feel much pain when she landed on her front
and slid down the path in a yelling heap.

"Fuck me!" she commented.

She was holding Pansy by the hand at the time. If Suzanne hadn't been
quite so heavy, perhaps Pansy would have been able to save her. As it
was, Pansy went down, too. Together they landed more or less on Baps's
front doorstep. The two spray bottles lay in the snow. They picked them
up and greeted Cassie as if nothing had happened. "Hi, Cass!"

"Hi, you two. Skating?"

"You should try it," recommended Pansy.

"Yeah, it's great," said Suzanne. "Coming to help us with our snowman?"

"Yeah, I'll get ready. Come in and get warm."

The stood in the hallway, while Cassie went off to put her warmest
clothes on. Pansy whispered, "why don't we spray Cassie? Just a little
bit. Then we can watch her while we're doing the snowman. If a boy
suddenly arrives, we'll know it's working."

"We'd better do it before she puts her coat on."

"Okay, as soon as she comes through that door, I'll get her with the
spray!"

It worked surprisingly well. Cassandra emerged into the hallway,
chattering brightly. Pansy gave her a long blast.

"Gosh, what's that stuff, Pan?"

"It keeps you warm in the snow. It's special stuff."

"Nice!" said Cassie. "Smells of strawberries." She climbed into her
coat and zipped herself in. Cramming a woolly hat on her blonde mop,
she opened the front door. "Right, come on, then!"

**********

Big strong Cassie made rolling the snowball so much easier. Even Pansy
lent a hand. The snowball got bigger and bigger. "Let's start on his
body now," Suzanne panted.

"I'll do his head," said Pansy.

"That stuff really does keep you warm. I'm all tingly," said Cassie,
struggling with the second rapidly-growing snowball. "Hey, who's this?
You expecting a visitor?"

The cousins looked up the path. "It's Jeremy," shouted Suzanne,
exchanging glances with Pansy. "He must have come from miles away," and
Suzanne looked at Cassie with true admiration.

Jeremy came down the path, carrying a large cardboard box. "Hi, you
girls! Is Miss Mountains at home?"

"Yeah, knock on the back door. We're building a snowman!" Pansy rolled
the snowman's head another turn and a half. It was about the size of a
grapefruit. Jeremy slipped on the slippery path, and blundered against
Cassie. It made a fairly satisfying squish. Cassie clutched Jeremy to
her exuberant bosom. Jeremy was in no hurry to escape. He recovered his
footing - giving Cassie a friendly squeeze, which she returned with
good Fillamore Deepleigh enthusiasm - and set off up the path.

"It worked!" Pansy squeaked, and exchanged a high five with Suzanne.
"I'll go and do your Mum now!"

"Not yet!" Suzanne grabbed her arm. "Leave it till she's getting ready
to go out! Then it will have the maximum effect. Let's get this man
finished before it gets dark. It's going to snow again. Come on!"

**********

"You've got the right one, haven't you? We don't want to make her tits
grow."

Pansy shook her bottle. "No, this is the one I used on Cassie. I
remember how much there was left in it."

"Come on, then. She's just come out of the bathroom. Let's do her now!"

The two cousins emerged from the shadows and Pansy aimed the bottle at
her Aunt Tanya's capacious chest.

"Oooh, what's that stuff? Smells of strawberries."

"It keeps you warm in the snow, Mum. We tried it on Cassie and it
worked real good. Here, have some more." Pansy obliged.

"It's a bit cold, but it soon warms up. Thank you, Pansy." Tanya
plodded on into her bedroom and closed the door. The girls hugged each
other and dashed upstairs to their attic bedroom.

"There. It's done! She'll find a man tonight!" Suzanne held her bottle
up to the light and shook it. "There's not much left in here," she
said. "You're sure you used the same bottle?"

Pansy took her bottle out of her pocket and shook it. There was quite a
lot slopping around inside. She felt her face begin to go red.

"You've got it wrong, haven't you," Suzanne accused her. "You've given
my Mum huge tits. Even huger tits!"

"No, I haven't. It was your fault. When you pulled me over in the snow,
you made us drop the bottles."

"But that was *before* you sprayed Cassie, Pan!"

Pansy bit her lip. "I swapped them back after that, when we were
building that snowman. Then when Jeremy came and got off with Cassie, I
swapped them back again."

"So did I," said Suzanne. "At least, I think so. They weren't in the
same places when I went to swap them."

"Look, we know we got the Love Potion when we did Cassie. You swapped
the bottles, so it's *your* fault we've given your Mum even huger
tits."

"It's not *my* fault! You sprayed her!"

"I thought it was Love Potion. It was your fault."

The argument had reached stalemate.

"Suzanne? Pansy?" It was Mrs Gruntworthy, shouting up the stairs.
"Telephone, darlings! Come quickly, it's Cassie!"

The cousins tumbled into the kitchen and grabbed the phone. "She
sounded a bit worried about something," said Mrs Gruntworthy.

"What's she saying," Pansy hissed. Suzanne shook her head. Cassie was
obviously doing all the talking.

"Yeah. See you tomorrow," said Suzanne, quietly, and put the phone
down.

"What did she say?" said Pansy, desperately.

Suzanne led her cousin out of the kitchen. "It's all your fault. You've
made her tits grow."

"We've been through all that. If your Mum's tits grow, it was your
fault."

"Not my Mum. Cassie's!"

"Cassie's tits have grown?"

"They're still growing, she says. While she was on the phone to us, she
said they'd grown from about five handfuls to six."

"How can she tell that?" Pansy asked scornfully.

"She's got a few friends round there. They were all holding on to her
titties. She fits one of her sister's old bras already. That's BIG!"

"Bloody shit!" Pansy had gone pale.

"Now you've gone and given my Mum tits as big as Miss Gruntworthy's.
She'll kill us. Me first!"

"Come on upstairs," Pansy said. "We'd better go to bed. She won't kill
us if we're asleep."


Chapter 8:- Another Innocent Victim

"Is that a new perfume you're wearing, Tan? Smells like strawberries."

"You like it? It's some stuff that's supposed to warm you up in the
cold weather, apparently. I don't know where they got it from, the
girls."

"The girls? You mean Suzanne and Pansy?"

"Yes. Pansy sprayed it on me when I came out of the bathroom."

"Pansy sprayed you. From something like a spray bottle, with a
trigger?"

"Yes, it was. She gave it three or four squirts. It felt a bit cold,
but it feels a lot warmer now. Why do you ask. Do you know what the
stuff is?"

"No, that's the trouble. I hope they haven't sprayed you with something
too terrible. Whatever it is, it's something they've made up in Sexual
Chemistry class. It could be harmless. Or quite nasty. We'll just have
to wait and see what happens to you."

"What happens to me? You mean something's going to happen to me? Like
what?"

"Well, it depends. Could be love. That would be nice. Could be fuck.
That might be nice, too. Or it could be tits. That could be a problem,
given your present size. How would you fancy something about twice as
big...?"

"Twice as big? As these?"

"No, I was thinking more of something like twice as big as these!" I
pointed at mine. Tanya looked distinctly cross about something. "How do
you feel?" I asked her solicitously.

"Very kind of you to enquire. Actually, I feel fine. A bit tingly in
the nipples, quite warm all over. Wet down below. Nothing out of the
ordinary at all."

"Oh, good!" We sipped our drinks and looked around the pub. It was
still half empty. "Ah, here's Smegs, back from the bog. Let's see if
she has any ideas." And I explained the problem to Smegs as well as I
could, using simple everyday words. She gulped at her glass and crashed
it down on the table.

"Christ," she said. "You've got problems, Tan!"

"What's going to happen to me?"

"Something. That's all we know. But it will be interesting, whatever it
is. Let's sit back and wait for it. When it happens, Tan, you can lie
back and enjoy it. Just think. You might end up with enormous tits."

"I've already got enormous tits," said Tanya, a little too loudly.
Conversation ceased in the Six Bells. People looked across at us. "I've
already got enormous tits," Tanya repeated, a little more quietly. Ears
were cocked in our direction, and the barman turned off the juke box.
"I don't want even more enormous ones. In fact, of all the potential
options you offered me, the only one which even remotely appeals is
FUCK!"

She had raised her voice once more. Smegs and I buried out noses in our
pints. One or two of the spectators in the pub preened themselves in
the mirror behind the bar. Hair was checked. Stray nose hairs were
surreptitiously plucked out with much grimacing. Tummies were held in.
Tanya scanned the talent on display, but apparently saw nothing to
write home about.

"It's early yet," I told her. "There'll be a few more in later."

"I hope so," Tanya growled. "I am even beginning to feel like shagging
some of these specimens."

I inspected the drinkers. They were a sad collection. "I think what
you've got is either love or fuck, Tan. Of course, you could have both.
Or all three."

The door opened and a flurry of snow came in, followed by Orson and
Carlos. They had a girl with them, short and fairly attractive, in a
scrawny way. They came to our table and sat down. Orson did the
introductions. The girl was called Mona.

"She's Orson's sister," said Carlos, as if she wasn't there. "She's on
the rebound, she's just been dumped, so we figured she needed taking
out of herself."

Orson came back with the drinks and sat down. I suppose I ought to have
been a little surprised when Tanya immediately clambered on to his lap.
Orson certainly was. Mona and Carlos seemed not to be unduly bothered,
but after all, this was Fillamore Deepleigh. I tried to look the other
way and appear unconcerned. It wasn't easy. Tanya was pouring it on.
She had chosen to wear a skirt this evening, which I had thought was an
inappropriate choice for a walk on a snowy night.

I saw now that the skirt was the wisest of choices. Tanya is a year
older than me, and I had to acknowledge her greater experience. She had
perched herself on Orson's manhood, and her skirt had apparently ridden
up sufficiently for her to impale herself. By the expression on her
face, and that on Orson's, she suddenly succeeded. Tanya's expression
briefly turned to panic, as she realised that she might have bitten off
more than she could chew, in a manner of speaking. Then she bottomed
out with a soft squelch, and began to rain soft, hot little kisses on
Orson's face and its immediate surroundings.

Orson had the presence of mind to look embarrassed. He wasn't as
embarrassed as me, especially as Tanya placed her hands on his
shoulders and began a slow humping motion. I continued to avoid looking
at him. I tried to make polite conversation with Smegs, but she was
gazing into Carlos's eyes. I had no idea what she could see in there.

"Well, how's your love life, then, Mona?" I said, brightly. The stupid
cow started blubbing. "Is it something I said?" She began to howl. It
was a horrible noise. People were starting to stare at her. Strangely,
they didn't stare at Orson and Tanya, who were by now grunting and
heaving and pawing at each other with urgent little cries. But this was
Fillamore Deepleigh, after all.

I took her by the hand and yanked her to her feet. She was tiny, less
than five feet. There was nothing of her. "W-w-w-where are you taking
me?" she demanded.

"Get your coat," I told her. Together we went out through the door.
That was two nights running I had left the Bells with a partner who
hadn't finished his or her drink. "Stop blubbering, girl," I told her.
She stopped, almost at once, and clutched my arm.

"You're so strong, Chauntaille," she whined, squashing herself against
my right tit. Actually, it was the tit that did the squashing, rather
than Mona. She was too bony to squash. "So masterful! Orson talked of
nothing else but you all the way here. He thinks the sun shines out of
your arse, you know?"

"Oh, I'm so glad to hear it," I muttered. Where was Orson now, I asked
myself, getting ridden by one of my bestest friends. True, Tanya was
under the influence of certain substances, but it still rankled that
she had homed in on MY bloke. And I'd ended up with his sister! Who was
a scrawny little midget who I was beginning to fancy like crazy.

We arrived at the house. "Come on in," I said, and she followed me
indoors. I knocked on the sitting room door and pushed my head round
it.

Mother looked up. She was snogging Daddy on the couch. Everybody was
having sex but me. "You're early, Shan. Orson with you?"

"No, he's been detained," I said through gritted teeth. "I'm having an
early night." And I withdrew. Mona followed me up the stairs like a
conspirator. I sat her on my bed.

"You've got the most gigantic tits, Chauntaille," she told me.

"Funny, I'd noticed that, too, Mona."

She giggled nervously. "Could I see them, please, do you think?"

Why not, I thought. I peeled off my sweater and sat there in the
creaking ScatBra.

"Christ, what a fantastic bra, Chauntaille! Is it specially made?"

"Well, yes. They don't make ordinary ones this size."

"D'you want to see mine?" she said. "Not my bra, of course. I don't
wear them. But you can see my nipples!"

I said yes, to be polite, and she whipped off her skinny sweater. Her
nipples were like small grapes stuck to her chest with superglue. They
were surrounded by the teensiest little puffy areolae, about in inch
across.

"There," she said, proudly. "Your turn again now!"

I unhooked the ScatBra and lowered everything to the bed. Mona gasped,
and goggled, shook her head and touched me experimentally with little
fingers. "They're huge, aren't they! I always wanted a pair, but it
never happened, somehow. All the other girls had them but me, even
during the time of the Uncontrollable Horniness and nearly everyone got
tits. I was in bed with flu and missed all the fun. I suppose that's
it, now. I'm twenty-three, after all."

Shit, she's older than me! "You poor little thing," I said and held out
my arms to her. "There," I said, "Big Mummy Shan will look after little
Mona!"

"Golly!" she said, snuggling between my vast udders.

"Why not take your nasty tight jeans off, Mona," I said.

She looked up at me and bit her lip. It looked as if she was thinking
of refusing: that she was about to storm out, down the stairs and tell
the whole world down the Six Bells - where she had an unfinished drink,
remember. But she stood for a moment with her fingers on her belt, then
unfastened it and quickly pushed them down her slender legs. She
stepped out of the jeans, leaving them on the floor.

"I've never been done by a woman before, Chauntaille. Be gentle with
me!" The little slut was as bad as the rest of us. She gave her panties
a little tug to free them from the crack of her bottom and she was
about to take them down when I stopped her. I pulled them down with my
teeth. Mona was as wet as I was.

I tucked her panties under the pillow. I sniffed them and my eyes
watered. Tanya would enjoy those, I thought. Then I remembered exactly
what Tanya was enjoying right now, the little cowbag. Still on my
knees, I thrust my face into Mona's sparsely-furred pussy. It was the
only decent bit of fat on her. "Come to bed!" I told her sharply. No
need, she was already coming.

Mona was a most suitable name, I discovered during the next couple of
hours. She was also most creative between the sheets as well as between
my thighs. But eventually, she dozed off, leaving me cuddling her
skinny body and trying to achieve one more orgasm by pressing her hip
bone against my swollen little love-bud. Little? Well, it's a figure of
speech, really. Everything's to scale down there, it's just enormous,
that's all.

Which was why I was awake when the door softly opened. The clock said
eleven fifteen. Voices were whispering. I pretended to be asleep.

"Night-night, Orson!" That was Tanya.

"G'night, Tan. Thanks for everything!"

"Oh, it was nothing. It was the least I could do! You enjoy the rest of
the night, now."

I felt his hand groping across the bed.

"Wait a minute," said Orson. "There's someone in here already." He
investigated further. "It's a bloody *girl*!"

"Could be," Tanya whispered. "Shan likes girls. In fact, Shan loves
girls."

"She DOES? Wait a minute. It's Mona. It's my bloody sister!"

"Oh, give her here, then, she can sleep with me if she likes big-titted
women."

"Are you sure? It's not putting you out, or anything?"

"No, it would be a pleasure, honestly. Drag her out. Ah, the poor
little thing, she's still asleep, look!" Between the two of them, they
took Mona out of my bed, her hand and wrist coming free from my pussy
with a soft squidgy noise. "Come on Mona, come along with Big Tan, you
can keep me warm while big brother Orson fucks Auntie Shannie into a
steaming frazzle."

I heard the sound of a quick kiss, and the door closed behind Tanya and
her little girlfriend.

He was big and bony compared to his little sister, and he was still
sticky with Tanya's juice, but what the hell! It was getting on for
midnight, time was a-wasting. But I made him climb on top of me first.
I was tired after Mona. For a skinny little waif, she certainly took it
out of you.

**********

"Is that her coming in now?" Suzanne yawned and stretched.

Pansy drowsily raised her head from her cousin's breast. "What's the
time?"

"Gone eleven. Yes, it's her. Here she comes. It's a good job this is a
big wardrobe," said Suzanne. "Bigger than that one of Davie's!"

"Who's that with her?" whispered Pansy. "Has she found a man?"

"No, it's a boy. He's only little. Still, as long as he can do it,
that's all that matters."

"Suze, look! It's not a boy. That's a girl!"

"A girl? Let's have a look. Oh, bloody hell, Pan! What have you done to
her with that spray?"

"Me? What have *I* done? Look what YOU did to Cassie."

"Never mind Cassie, you've sprayed my Mum with some stuff that's made
her into a lezzie. You'd better spray her again, with the right stuff
this time. Turn her back into a woman."

Pansy crept out of the wardrobe, the spray at the ready. She advanced
on the bed, where two hunched figures lay entwined. With a quick
movement, Pansy slipped the spray under the covers and squeezed the
trigger five times. Then she legged it, with Suzanne hard on her heels.

Tanya took her face out of her lover's fragrant crotch and slowly
lapped her way up her flat stomach. "Can you smell strawberries,
darling?" she asked, but Mona was fast asleep.

**********

Things very quickly become a habit, I've found as I go through life.
That was two mornings in succession I had woken up with Orson's face on
the pillow next to me. This must be what it's like being married, I
thought. I snuggled up close and he stirred, but didn't wake up. He
must be tired, poor lamb. He sodding well ought to be, I thought,
seeing the notepad and pencil on the bedside table. Surely we hadn't
done it as many times as *that* between midnight and seven o'clock?

I slipped a leg out of the bed and found the floor. As soon as I stood
up, shakily, I realised that the notepad had probably got it right. I
felt like one of those characters who Brought The Good News From Ghent
To Aix. On rubber legs, I staggered to the door, tripping over Mona's
jeans and skinny sweater on the way. So Mona was still in residence,
then. In bed with Tanya, presumably, although you can never be too sure
with these promiscuous girls.

Out on the landing, I crept in the direction of the bathroom, beginning
to wish I had worn a nightie. Or anything. You never knew who you might
meet around the house at this time of morning. Smegs might be
entertaining the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra downstairs.

Now, then. You know in films, whenever anyone skulks about the house
very early in the morning, they always hear strange alien noises and it
scares them? And the music goes Dan-dan-dan-dan-daaar, the way it does?

I was passing Tanya's room, and it happened. A blood-chilling scream
rang out. It actually rang. Mother has all kinds of pretty ornamental
plates hanging on the walls at the top of the stairs. Well, this scream
made them all go zzzinggg for a few seconds.

It wasn't Tanya's voice. It lacked that husky quality. This was an
alien scream. It was followed by a whimpering, and low voices,
discussing a matter of some urgency. I knocked on the door.

"Tan? Was that you?"

"Shan? Come in, quick!"

I did. It was a smaller room than mine. My first impression was that
Mona must have choked on a kipper bone, but she wasn't rolling about on
the floor, coughing. She was in bed. Tanya was in bed, too. Their sweet
little faces were side by side on the pillow. Actually, the bed wasn't
really wide enough for the two of them. If Mother had envisaged Tanya
taking a partner, she would probably have made other arrangements.
Anyway, their sweet little faces were side by side on the pillow, with
the duvet pulled up to their chins.

Tanya looked as if she had seen a ghost. Mona was whimpering slightly.
In my brief experience of Mona, I had found her to be a little too fond
of whimpering. It could put a person off her very quickly, I imagined.

"What's the matter?" I asked, in my best sympathetic tones.

Tanya glanced sideways at Mona, then back at me. "Are you ready for
this?" she asked me.

"Whatever it is, yes. What's up?"

Tanya nodded to Mona, who hesitated for a moment, then with a dramatic
flourish, she pulled the duvet down, revealing the two of them lying
side by side.

**********

I'm a woman of the world, I like to think. I've seen naked women
before, and generally speaking, I can take them or leave them. Of
course, once I become aroused, it can be a different matter. A 
different kettle of fish, as it were. I suppose that thought about fish
came to me with the wave of fragrance that wafted out of the little bed
when Mona threw the covers back. At any other time, I might have been
sufficiently turned on to join them, or at least, to solicit an
invitation. This time, though, I'm afraid I gasped.

If there was one thing about skinny little Mona that I would have liked
to change, it would probably have been to put a little more flesh on
her frame. Perhaps a touch more on her thighs and hips. Her buttocks,
certainly. And her breasts. It would have been nice if she'd had some.
Apart from that, she was just fine. But I've skipped ahead of myself.
Let's go back a few paragraphs.

**********

Tanya nodded to Mona, who hesitated for a moment, then with a dramatic
flourish, she pulled the duvet down, revealing the two of them lying
side by side. Make that the four of them.

"Bloody hell!" I said, inadequately.

"Exactly," Tanya agreed. "What, do you think, has caused this?"

"Fuck knows," I said, although I had a pretty good idea. "Should I go
and call them?"

"No. Plenty of time for that later."

Mona found her voice. "Call who? What's happened to me? What's going
on?"

"You can see what's happened," I told her, "your tits have grown. In
fact, they look quite nice, although some would say they're a *little*
on the large side for such a small woman, but I, personally, don't have
a major problem with that."

"But why? What is it about this place that makes all the girls get big
tits?"

"Oh, it's just coincidence, I suppose. I hadn't really thought about it
as being anything to do with the house, as such. No, it's just a
hormonal condition we share. And now you can share it too!"

"What if I don't want to share it? I might not want big tits. Huge
tits," she revised her assessment after a glance down at them.

"Why not get up and come and look at them in the bathroom mirror.
Careful when you get out of be... ah, too late. I should have warned
you. They tend to affect your balance." I helped her to her feet.
Meanwhile, Tanya had got out of bed on the other side, and came round
to join us. Mona stood there wobbling slightly, and we looked at her
critically.

"They're quite nice ones," Tanya said at length, "*very* full for such
a skinny little girl, but she'll get used to them in a few weeks."

"I'd have liked to see a little more on the hips and buttocks for the
best effect. They're so narrow and skinny she looks like one of those
erotic dancers."

"What do you think her measurements are now?" Tanya asked.

"Why not ask her."

"What size were you, Mona?"

"I'm 26-18-28," she whimpered. "Or I was."

"You can forget that 26, babe, it's history," I told her. "It's not
important, I was just idly wondering, that's all. We can find some
clothes for you, and a bra. If its a problem, we'll get one of our bra
group to come down and make you something special. The good thing these
days is you get all your growing done in one go. When it first happened
to Smegs and me, we grew about three times, and we kept growing out of
our bras. It made Mother really mad. Of course, the last seven feet of
mine are comparatively recent."

"You seem to know a lot about it," Mona said.

"Thank you," I said, sincerely.


Chapter 9:- Breakfast At Chauntaille's Place

Tanya and I helped Mona to the bathroom. I suppose, to a casual
observer, we were an erotic vision: three totally unclothed and
attractive young women with breasts ranging from enormous to gigantic.
Our other, less vital, statistics ranged from chubby to scrawny and
undernourished. We reached the bathroom safely, although Mona needed
support the whole way as her breasts tended to take control of her.

"What do you weigh?" I asked her.

"Not a lot. Less than seven stone." Skinny bitch.

"Prepare yourself for a shock, then. Step on here." She stepped on to
the bathroom scale, and we let go of her hands when she was more or
less balanced. "Bloody hell, Daddy got this thing cheap; it's in
pounds."

"What's it say?" said Tanya.

"What's 125 in stones?" I said.

"About nine," Tanya said after a brief struggle with her fingers.
"Eight stone thirteen."

"There you are, then, Mona, you've got about thirty pounds of tit
hanging on your chest. How's it feel?"

She was crying again, the miserable little cow. Tanya put an arm round
her and helped her off the scale, but she caught sight of her
reflection in the full-length mirror and started howling.

"Let's get her dressed before she wakes the whole village," I said,
grabbing her hand and leading her back to my bedroom. "Her jeans and
sweater are in here." We went in, and Orson sat up in bed his eyes
boggling at his little sister. Shit, I'd forgotten he was there.
Amazing how you can forget things like that in such a short time.

"Christ, Mona, where did you get those?" Orson yelped. "They are
fantastic! What's she crying for, Shan?" he asked.

"Search me! If I had suddenly grown a pair that size overnight, I'd be
over the moon!" I say some daft things sometimes.

"They must weigh ten pounds each," Orson marvelled, sitting on the edge
of the bed and cupping his genitalia in a most disturbing manner,
considering he was admiring his own sister. But of course, this was
Fillamore Deepleigh.

"Fifteen," said Tanya, a stickler for detail.

"How big are they?" he asked.

"You can fuckin' well see how big they soddin' well are," Mona sobbed.

"No, not that. How big are they? How many inches?"

"Does it really matter, Orse?" Tanya held out her hands. "Inches? Look
at them. They're huge, that's all."

"I see what you mean, Tan," he enthused, "those things don't need
measuring in inches. They need measuring in feet! Hey, Mona, the boys
are gonna be crawling through shit to get to you."

A delightful image. Actually, the idea of measuring little Mona was
quite appealing to me, but I could hardly admit it, could I? Those
things must be at least five feet round. Smegs was going to be right
pissed off. Another one bigger than her.

Mona found her jeans and wriggled into them. She had, in fact, carried
out a brief search for her panties, but found nothing and decided to
press on in their absence. She fastened her belt with some difficulty;
not only was it now hidden from her view, her breasts hung down to
somewhere beyond it, so she had to heave them out of the way. She
managed the job eventually, and stood breathing heavily and looking
around at the three of us. When she stopped crying, she was far more
attractive. I suddenly wanted to take her to bed and give her a good
licking-out again. Reluctantly, I decided not to as it would be rude to
my other guests.

Let's find you a sweater, shall we. And I turned out one drawer of my
dressing table which still contained clothes more than two years old.
The first sweater we found fitted her amazingly well. She looked
staggering in it, too; a little doll-like creature with whopping great
tits hanging there. She tried a number of other tops. It was like
dressing a real live Barbie doll.

"You can have all of those," I said generously. "They were too busty
for the Oxfam shop, but they're perfect on you, Mona!" Her little face
lit up and she hugged the huge pile of clothes to her big new chest.
"But do stay and have some breakfast before you go home and try them
all on."

**********

This time, the big table in the kitchen was completely filled with
overnight guests. Smegs had entertained Carlos on the couch, and he
joined us, looking sheepish. Smegs herself was in a black mood, as she
often is in the morning. The young girls looked worried about
something, especially when they spotted Mona, exchanging looks of guilt
and terror, whispering and shaking their heads.

I didn't screw Orson at the table this morning, so Tanya was able to
allow the girls to stay. Mother looked startled at Mona's development.
Was this the same skinny Buggey girl she sometimes saw at the
supermarket? How strange she'd never noticed the extreme size of her
breasts before. Extreme! She made a mental note to tell Mrs Pangolin.

"I've given Mona some of my old clothes, Mother, the ones that are too
small in the bust."

"How thoughtful, dear," she said. She studied Mona's heavy bosom for a
while. The girl was having trouble sitting comfortably at the table. "I
suppose you don't have a bra to fit her, do you?"

I wondered why everybody talked about Mona as if she wasn't in the
room.

"No," I said, "she's far too big in the cups for my school ones, and
far too small for my two-year-old ones."

"Yes, she's certainly an awkward size, being so incredibly petite, yet
with such unbelievably massive breasts. Still, we mustn't discuss the
girl as if she wasn't here, must we? We'll embarrass her. It must be
embarrassing enough, being so tremendously skinny, and so ridiculously
short, yet so enormously huge up top; without having everyone talking
about her as if she wasn't there."

Suzanne pointed at Mona. "They're even bigger than Miss Mountains's,"
she announced. Smegs looked daggers at her.

"Lots of people are getting as big as Miss Mountains, now," Pansy
reminded us.

"Where's she going?" I asked Tanya, as Mona got up from the table
without a word and fled from the room.

"I'd better go and find out," Tanya said, "excuse me."

"If she doesn't want her scrambled eggs and bacon, Mrs Gruntworthy, can
we have it?" asked Suzanne.

**********

It was twenty minutes later when they came back in.

Orson was just saying: "It's a funny thing, but everybody talks about
her as if she's not there... ah, here she comes now."

"Here she is," announced Tanya, "our little titty-girl. Doesn't she
look nice?"

"Yes, she certainly does" said Mother.

Mona looked different, somehow. It was difficult to say what it was.
"What have you done to her, Tan?" I asked.

"Just a different top - a nice, stretchy sweater - and one of my bras.
I had to put a tuck in the sides of it, but the cups aren't all that
much too big. Holds her up nicely, doesn't it!"

It did. She jiggled a bit when she walked, but she wasn't dangling down
below her waist any more.

"The girls ate your breakfast, Mona," Mother said.

"It's all right, Mrs Gruntworthy, I'm on a diet."

"She doesn't look as if she needs to go on a diet, does she, Shan,"
Orson said. "Apart from those mammoth titties, she's skinny as a rake."

I rested my head on his shoulder and he hugged me to him. It felt so
comforting! God, I really wanted him all of a sudden. My hand went to
his groin and found what it was seeking. "Oooh, Shan!" he murmured,
dropping his face to kiss me on the nose, the lips and the tongue.

"Oooh, Orse! Make love to me, NOW!" As if in a dream, I could see
people hurriedly clearing things away to make room.

"No room on the floor, darling, too many chairs," said Mother. "Do it
on the table, dear, I think we've all finished our breakfast anyway."

Orson's voice came to me as if through a fog. "Thanks, Mrs
Gruntworthy!" And he gently lowered me on to the table and removed my
jeans and knickers.

"I'll take those," said Tanya.

Then he was inside me, pounding away. In the distance, I could hear
comforting, everyday noises: Mother and Daddy washing up, Tanya and
Smegs discussing Orson's technique, the girls complaining that we were
doing it all wrong again. Tanya sent them outside to get on with their
snowman.

"I thought you'd cleared a space on this table, Mother," I said,
sitting up and wiping my sopping wet inner thighs on the table cloth.

"Sorry, dear, there wasn't time; you obviously couldn't wait. Another
few seconds and you'd have exploded. Never mind, it's only marmalade,
and your sweater is machine washable. Anyway, how was it for you,
dear?"

"Excellent!"

"Very nice, Mrs Gruntworthy," said Orson. "Honestly, your daughter is
easily the best fuck I have ever had. You deserve a medal for the way
you've brought her up!"

Mother blushed prettily and so did I. "We're really glad you're
enjoying her so much," said Mother.

Orson stroked my pubic hair fondly. "It's funny, she's got such a
gigantically cavernous pussy, you'd think it'd be like shagging a fur-
lined horse-collar! Look at these lips!" He gently tugged at my labia,
holding them apart for everyone to see. "But once you're in there,
she's SO tight, you wouldn't believe it! And as for her clitoris!
Bloody hell."

"WooowooWOW!" I said as he sucked it, briefly.

He tugged at a tangled bit of my pubic bush. Finally he picked up a
fork and combed my pubes with it.

"Ouch, darling!" I reprimanded him, lying back on the table and parting
my thighs to give him better access.

"Sorry, sweetheart," he whispered, and mounted me again. This time,
when we finished, the kitchen was empty apart from us. Honestly, some
people can be so rude, sometimes.


Part IV

Chapter 10:- A Good Talking-To

Baps knocked on the back door and came in?

"Hello! Anyone at home?"

She came into the kitchen. "Oh, hi, Shan, I didn't notice you. No,
carry on, Orson, don't mind me!"

"We're just finishing, Baps," I panted, "pour yourself a cup of
coffee."

"Thanks," she said. That's why she's my very best bestest friend. She
didn't stare as we finished off, she just made polite conversation.
"It's chilly again," she said, "it will probably snow again before the
day's out." She watched in silence for a few minutes. "Yours wobble,
don't they? Mine are much bigger, but they don't wobble like yours.
Does it hurt?"

Orson withdrew with a gush of fluids, and staggered back into the
armchair. Baps tut-tutted and came over with a towel. "Bloody hell, you
always were a wet one, Shan! Look at this table cloth!" She mopped up
around my groin area, then went to wring out the towel at the kitchen
sink.

"There's some paper kitchen towel over there somewhere," I told her,
and she brought the whole roll.

"That's better. Get up, and we'll put this table cloth in the wash. I
don't know, couldn't you get to the bedroom in time? You youngsters!"

I stood up and found my jeans. No knickers, Tanya had borrowed those.
"You're a bit early with the milk, aren't you?"

"I haven't brought the milk. I brought young Cassie round. She quite
enjoys a ride in my barrow, although she may need one of her own, soon.
She's outside with Suze and Pansy. Have you seen their snowman? He's
huge!"

"No, they got sent outside when we started having sex on the table, so
I haven't seen it at all."

"It's a huge snowman, you must have had a long session."

I looked at the clock. "Gosh, yes! Three hours."

"Anyway, Cassie said Pansy sprayed something tingly on her before they
went out to play yesterday. And last night, her boobies grew. You know
how big they were before...!"

"Yeah! Huge, and she's only..."

"That's right! She's no age at all! Well, they're three times as big
now. Fortunately, she's a big enough girl to handle it, but she's going
to need a load of new bras and tops. Mum's right pissed off."

"Oh, no, not her as well!"

"As well as who? There's been another?"

"Yeah, Orson's Mona. She's gained thirty pounds overnight!"

"Thirty...! Bloody hellfire! They must be nearly as big as she is."

"Nearly," I agreed. "Where's Cass? Bring her in."

Smegs went to the window and knocked. A few seconds later, the three
youngsters came in, rosy-cheeked and dusted with powdery snow.

"Have you finished, Miss?" said Suzanne.

"Yes, thank you, Suzanne."

"How was it, Miss," asked Pansy. I assured her that the Earth had
probably moved for me, and she nodded in satisfaction. "You do it a
funny way, Miss, but it seems to work for you, so I suppose it's all
right."

"Oh, yes, it works for me all right, thanks. Good morning, Cassie."

"Good morning, Auntie Shan."

"Take your coat off, Cass," said Baps, "show Auntie Shan your huge new
boobies."

"They grew, Auntie Shan. Look!"

I looked. They had been huge before. All I could say was, it was as
well Mona hadn't got as big as this, or she'd never have stood up. "You
really are enormous, aren't you, Cassie!"

She blushed prettily. "Thank you, Auntie Shan. Do you like them?"

"They're lovely and big, Cassie, they really suit you. You can put them
away now, thank you." I can only look at enormous tits for so long
before I start having inappropriate thoughts.

Orson had recovered slightly, and sat up. "Bloody hell, is that young
Cassie?" he said, in awe. "What's going on with all these tits growing?
Whatever it is, I like it."

"Morning, Mr Buggey," said Cassie, politely. "Would you like to see
them as well?"

"I just did see them, Cassie. They're wonderful!"

"No, I mean see them properly!" Cassie started to tug her shirt out of
the waist of her jeans. Orson's mouth had opened in anticipation.

"That won't be necessary, Cassie," said Baps. "We'll let Mr Buggey use
his imagination, shall we?"

"It's all right, Sis, I don't mind him seeing. He's like an Uncle,
really, especially when he marries Auntie Shan..."

My God, what gave her that idea! Baps tucked her sister in and shooed
her out of the back door with the cousins. "Little madam," she said,
coming back in. "Sorry about that, Orse! She seems to be turning into a
stripper. She'll have a few years to wait, unfortunately. Pity, really,
with those tits, she could earn thousands."

"You could pretend she was sixteen," I suggested, but realised it
wasn't a good idea.

"Well, I'd better be off," said Baps. "If you get any idea about what's
caused all these tits to grow, let me know. It's okay, I'll let myself
out."

Which was just as well, as Orson was already pumping away at me again.
Without the tablecloth, my damp bare buttocks squeaked on the polished
table. Mother peeped in at us, but decided to leave us to it. In the
end, though, she had to come in and risk interrupting us, as it was
time to get lunch ready. She laid the table around us - or rather,
around Orson - as I was well on top by then.

"Nice timing, Shan," she said, as I dismounted and climbed straight
into my jeans. "Two of you carry Orson over to the chair, if you would,
please!" Suzanne and her mother obliged, dumping the wilting boy in his
armchair again. He looked so lovable I went and sat on his lap once
more, and we both missed our soup as a result.

Most unfair, that sort of thing.

**********

"Where's Miss Gruntworthy, Mummy?"

She's gone back to bed, darling. I think she's tired."

"I'm not surprised she's tired, Auntie Tan, she's done nothing else but
fuck for two days."

"Pansy! That's not very nice language, is it?"

"Is Mr Buggey tired as well, Mum?

"I expect so, darling."

"Is that why he's gone to bed with Miss Gruntworthy, then?"

"Suzanne! I think you two had better go and play with your snowman
again."

"We can't, he's finished. We've been sent outside every time Miss
Gruntworthy and Mr Buggey have been getting laid on the floor or the
table or the armchair. We've spent so much time outside these last two
days, we've built three snowmen, a snow fortress and a full-sized
igloo."

"Well, go to your room, then. Read an encyclopaedia or something." The
girls turned away. "Wait a minute!" They turned back, with a frisson of
dread. "You know Cassie?"

"Yes, she's Auntie Baps's little sister."

"Not as little as she was, Suzanne. What do you know about that? Pansy?
Do you think Cassie might have been accidentally sprayed with
something? Something in a spray bottle?"

Both girls went bright red.

"All right," said Tanya. "What have you done?"

"Wasn't my fault, it was Pansy."

"I don't care whose fault it was, Suzanne. I want to know what was in
the bottle you sprayed on Cassie."

"Love," Pansy muttered.

"What?"

"It was love. Love Potion Number One-B. Left over from the school
disco. It worked great then."

"But it made Cassie *grow*, Pansy."

"That was Suze's fault. She swapped the bottles."

"There were *two* bottles? What was in the other one?"

Suzanne answered in a small voice. "We don't really know. It was meant
to be fuck, but it seemed to have a lot of tits in it for some reason."

"And what about Mona?"

"That was Mona's fault. It was meant for you!"

"For me? Suzanne. Look at me. Look at Mummy. Do I NEED huge tits?"

"No, Mummy."

"Then, why in Heaven's name..."

"... we thought it was love, Auntie Tan, honest. We wanted to give you
love, so a boy would come and go to bed with you. So we waited until
you came home, and sprayed the love in your bed."

"But it wasn't love," said Pansy.

"And it wasn't me, either," said Tanya, softly.

"It was for Christmas, Mum! It was your present." Both girls were
sobbing quietly.

Tanya gathered them in her arms. "Come here, you little horrors. What
am I going to do about you two?" She hugged them tight and felt their
tears soaking into her blouse on the sides of her tits.

"It's done, now. There's no way out of it. Now go on up to your room,
both of you. And throw away every last drop of whatever's left in those
bottles. Wash the bottles out and bring them here to me. I want to see
them empty, understand?"

"Yes, Mum!"

"Go on, then. And Suze! Throw me that big box of Kleenex from the
dressing table, please."

**********

We got up and came downstairs for supper. Mother grabbed me and took me
on one side.

"You're not being a very good hostess, Shan. I know you want to spend
lots of time with Orson, but you haven't stopped shagging the poor boy
since halfway through breakfast. You are neglecting your friends. Megan
has gone out, God alone knows where. She hasn't slept in your room for
two nights."

"No, she spent the first night with sixteen partners, and last night
she had Carlos. Or tried to."

"That's not the point. If she wanted to, she couldn't have slept in
your room, with you making love all night and now all day. You *know*
how much noise you make! Honestly, Shan, you're turning into a raving
nympho! Orson was nice enough to mention that you have a wonderful
pussy, but it won't stay wonderful much longer if you carry on like
this. It's the size of a bucket already, and those muscles won't stay
young for ever. You're twenty-two now, well past your peak."

"Mother!"

"It was time for some straight talking. Are you going out tonight?"

"No, we're going back to bed in a minute."

"All right, but remember it's Saturday tomorrow. I want you up and
about by nine in the morning, and no shagging at the breakfast table.
Or on it, or under it. You can do the shopping for me, then you must
spend the rest of the day entertaining your guests. All of them, not
just one. What those little girls will think of their school teacher
indulging in solid uninterrupted sex day after day, night after night,
I dread to think."

"Yes, Mother." She's really rotten to me sometimes. All I want to do is
to have a little fun. I'm well past my peak already.

"Yes, well," she said. "Don't forget. Saturday tomorrow. Sunday after
that, and it's the Carol Service in the morning. We shall be
attending."

"Oh, Mother!"

**********

We looked at the scoresheet when we got up at eight next morning. I'd
had only forty-three orgasms in a whole night. Mother was right. I had
passed my peak, and I was on the way down. By this time next year, I'd
be lucky to experience an orgasm at all. Even Orson was down to four
times in the night. The last of those had taken him two hours, and he'd
only finished that time because I rode him like a bucking bronco. He
was walking very funny when we got up.

It only made it worse when Smegs came home. She'd ended up at a party
somewhere in the village, and she came breezing in like the cat that
got the cream.

"Morning, you lot. Decided to get up, then, Shan? We've had a great
night. I'll show you a new position I learned. You never stop learning
at this sex game. Well, I hardly need tell you that, do I, Shan-tail!
You must be the world's best after your performance these last three
days!"

Why wasn't Smegs past her peak as well? That's what I wanted to know.

**********

Later on, I found out where she'd been. Orson kissed me goodbye at the
kitchen door and set off home for the first time in three days. I felt
helpless without him around. Who was going to fill the aching void in
my existence? Who, for that matter, was going to fill the aching void
between my upper thighs? I pottered about the kitchen for a while, then
drifted upstairs to my bedroom, scene of so much passion of late.

Smegs was there, inspecting a pair of knickers. "These yours?" she
enquired.

I took them from her and looked at them. They weren't the ones I'd
taken off Mona. "I suppose so," I said, a little shame-faced. They were
so crisp they'd almost snapped in half when I tried to bend them.

"I wish you wouldn't let them get as soiled as this, Shan, you could
have soiled five pairs with this amount of pussy-juice. It's a waste of
your resources."

"Sorry, Smegs. I just didn't think."

"You'll never make a businesswoman if you can't even control your own
secretions." She tossed the knickers into an open plastic sack on her
bed. "These are going back to St Cat's today, they're sending someone
down here this afternoon."

"Down here, in all this snow? What for?"

"The main reason is to measure Mona for a new bra. They can do
Cassandra at the same time. On their way back, they can take these
knickers into the factory. The factory is working right through
Christmas."

"God, what's that going to cost in overtime and wages?"

"It's essential. Our customers don't necessarily celebrate Christmas.
They need fresh panties by air freight every week. Well, not fresh
ones, but you know what I mean. I wonder who will be coming down.
Sandy, Mrs Cooper, or Mrs Boothroyd?"

I rather hoped it would be Mrs Boothroyd; I fancied a spot of groping
around on the bed with a real expert. Not that Orson wasn't improving
with every passing day.

But when the van drew up outside later that afternoon, all thoughts of
Mrs Boothroyd went completely out of my head.


Chapter 11:- Scats For All

There was a slightly strained atmosphere in the sitting room. Cassie
and the cousins were on the couch, talking in low voices. It must have
been something rude they were discussing, as every now and then Pansy
burst out into spluttering laughter and Suzanne nudged her and shook
her head.

In the armchair sat Mona, looking uncomfortable in a much too tight
baggy sweater. She kept hoisting her heavy breasts into new positions,
but couldn't seem to get them comfortable. Tanya got up from her chair
and came over behind Mona, and began to massage her neck. Mona moaned
and began to relax.

Meanwhile, on the floor, Smegs had tied the neck of the pantie sack to
keep the fumes in, and she was filing her toenails in front of the
fire.

We heard the van stop, and the doors slam shut. Then there were voices
at the front door, and Mother showed in our visitors. At first, I
didn't recognise them. I had never seen them dressed, after all. They
knew me, though.

"Arf'noon Miss Gruntworthy. Good to see ya! Innit, Clit?"

"Yeah, Flaps, always good to see Miss Gruntwurvy!"

Gosh! I'd nearly forgotten these two. Yet they were employees of
ScatBra, after all, and if anyone was qualified to run up a couple of
ScatBras for newly-expanded customers, Clit and Flaps were. I showed
them to a seat, and introduced Mona and Cassie.

"Christ!" Clit exclaimed. "Look at the tits on these two. Not the
biggest I've ever seen, but *she's* so skinny it makes them look three
times as big...!"

"... and that one there's no age at all! Big girl, though, all over!"
Flaps unwound her tape measure from around her neck. I noticed it was a
ten-foot one. Big enough for me, so it would do for Mona, and even
Cassie, at a pinch. "'Oo's first, then?" she said.

The cousins propelled Cassie forward, and she arrived unwillingly on
the rug in the middle of the floor.

"Come on, get yer fuckin' gear off, kid, we ain't got all day!" Flaps
was really the most appallingly rude young woman. Cassie unloaded
herself from her sweater, and unhooked her bra after a great deal of
grunting effort. I recognised it as one of Baps's old outgrown ones. We
all admired her robust curves. Flaps prodded her breasts, nodding with
satisfaction as they wobbled briefly and massively before returning to
their original position.

"Ouch!" said Cassie. Flaps took no notice. She handed one end of the
tape to Clit and they worked silently on Cassie, Clit occasionally
writing down a number or two on a pad. Flaps pushed and pulled the girl
in all directions, even getting her to bend forward from the waist so
her breasts hung straight downward. They bumped together and bounced
against her knees. While she was in that position, Flaps measured
Cassie's breasts from every angle. Finally, she stood back and
scratched beneath her armpit with a bony finger. Absently, she sniffed
the finger and smiled to herself.

"That'll do for you, kid. Next?" Mona stood up, teetering. She was
still having problems with her balance. If anything, too, she had grown
a bit more since her first spurt of development in Tanya's bed. Flaps
dragged her into position under the overhead light, and tugged at her
sweater. It was one of those big fishermen's things. Maybe, on a big
fisherman, it would have been tight. On a girl, it was intended to be
loose. On Mona, it wasn't. Perhaps Flaps was a little too keen to see
what was underneath, because she started to pull it off. Perhaps Clit
was overly keen as well, because so did she. And Mona was trying to get
it off, too.

Poor little off-balance, top-heavy Mona staggered about one way and
another as the two busty seamstresses attacked her sweater. As Flaps
pulled her one way, Clit just caught her in time, and pulled her the
other. We sat around waiting for her to crash to the floor, but they
never quite lost control of her. Suddenly, Flaps was holding the
sweater in her hands, while Clit and Mona were in a wild embrace in an
armchair. I helped Smegs disentangle them, and we stood Mona up again.
She wasn't wearing a bra, and topless, she looked unbelievable. She was
so skinny, with such huge, round tits, she resembled an erotic cartoon.

Flaps walked round her three times. It was like some ancient ritual
ceremony. Finally, she draped the tape around Mona, and the measuring
began. There's no need to trouble our readers with the dimensions of
Mona and her breasts, nor those of Cassie. Inches don't have much
meaning once you get past Smegs's sixty inches, and these two were so
far past, we weren't talking inches, we were into feet. At last, Flaps
pronounced herself satisfied.

"Small for this one 'ere, wiv the medium large cups, heavy
counterweights. Large and large for the kid, wiv light counterweights,
she's that much firmer," she said, consulting her notepad.

"SBSSMLCW5 and SBLLLLCW2. We've got both in the van," said Clit,
starting for the door.

"Why did you need to measure them," asked Smegs, " if they're both
stock sizes?"

"We enjoy it," said Flaps with relish. "It gets us all wet. We'll have
it off in the van on the way home!"

"We enjoyed it as well," Smegs admitted.

"So did we," chorused Cassie and Mona. "It made us wet as well." I was
with them all the way on that.

"So did we," squeaked Suzanne and Pansy.

"I'm always wet," Suzanne asserted.

"Suzanne, please!" shouted Tanya. "You girls had better leave the
room."

"Oh, Mum!" wailed Suzanne. "We wanted to see Cassie in her new
ScatBra."

"Please, Auntie Tan. She's our bestest friend!"

"All right. But one word and you're outside building another snowman!"
The back garden was crammed with snowmen already. I had no idea where
they would find room for another.

Clit came back in with a cardboard box, emblazoned with the Scat logo,
an exaggeratedly-endowed young girl thrusting out her chest, and saying
'Gosh!' She dumped it on the floor. "Right, neither of you has worn a
ScatBra before, have you?" She looked at Cassie and Mona, who both
shook their heads. A few other things shook as well.

"Okay, you come here." She pointed at Cassie, who approached her. She
spun the girl round to face away from her. "Right, you can watch as
well, save me saying all this twice." Mona nodded, and accepted the
milk chocolate coloured bra Clit handed her. She nearly dropped it,
taken by surprise by the weight of it. Cassie's was a lurid greenish-
yellow, and not nearly so heavy. I wasn't altogether happy with some of
their colours.

"Make sure all the straps are in the starting position, at maximum.
Now, bend over," she said, "and dangle yer tits into the cups." Both
girls did. Cassie looked up ready for her next instruction, but Clit
was busy helping Flaps pick Mona up again. They got her balanced, and
Tanya held her hand.

"Now, stay bent over, and fasten the 'ooks, starting at the bottom.
Don't miss any, or you'll bust something." The girls did their best,
although it took some time. "You've got to practise this, in case you
ever have to get dressed on yer own," insisted Flaps, smacking Tanya's
hand when she tried to help Mona. At last, the hooks were all fastened.

"Shoulder straps, now. Just hang them over your shoulders, they'll
adjust themselves. Now, stand up straight." The girls straightened,
their breasts flopping about in the oversized cups. "Okey-doke. Now the
clever bit. Take a deep breff!" They did. "And squeeze yer tits. Go on.
Harder!" Mona and Cassie looked at each other, and at the audience who
stared at them, jaws open. They began to massage their own breasts,
squeezing the soft material of the cups. It was obviously an arousing
experience for both of them, and I for one was becoming embarrassed,
just watching. Actually, I wasn't just watching, I was squeezing my own
tits as well. As were all the others in the room, apart from the two
bra-makers.

It was a fascinating sight to watch the cups adjust themselves to the
right size. Somehow the velcro creaked and adjusted itself. Straps and
flaps of material moved magically into new configurations until the
cups fitted perfectly. The girls looked at each, flushed and aroused.
Mona gave a cautious twirl, and her face lit up in a big grin.

"Hey," she chirped," I can stand up without falling over!"

Cassie turned to show herself to the cousins, who sat together in
silence, amazed at the outrageous shape of their bestest friend. They
nodded nervously, and Pansy clutched Suzanne's hand.

Flaps gave both girls a small booklet. "Full instructions, for washing
and adjustment," she said. "Advanced adjustment's in there, for the
height you want to wear them. If you don't want to hoist them straight
out in front..." she demonstrated on Cassie, jerking downwards on the
back of the shoulder straps and producing an incredible shelf-like
protrusion, "you can wear them low all the time and take some of the
weight out of the body band. It tells you how to do it in the book."
Clit stepped forward and released Cassie to the 'low' position. They
plummeted downward. Cassie's knees shuddered. Flaps looked around at us
all. "Right, any questions?"

There weren't. The girls moved here and there, twisting from side to
side and bobbing up and down experimentally. Their breasts did as they
were told.

"Right, then. We're off. Fings to do!" Clit picked up her cardboard box
and took out two more packages in each size. "There's yer spare pairs.
Sorry about the colours!" God, so was I!

The two busty seamstresses practically ran out of the house and piled
into their van. I accompanied them up the path in the gathering
darkness and said goodbye. They roared away from the house, slithering
on the packed snow. They had obviously already selected somewhere
secluded to pull off the road and have an orgy. They weren't wasting
any time.

"Who's paying for all those bras?" I asked Smegs, when I got back
indoors.

"ScatBra Enterprises," she said. "It's a small price to pay. The girls
could have sued the school for causing their breasts to get so big.
Three bras each will keep them quiet. It's just as well they both like
having huge ones. They could have absolutely hated them, and we'd have
been in deep shit."

"Do they like them?"

"Well, you've seen Cassie," she said. "She's over the moon with hers.
If they'd weighed a ton instead of just thirty pounds each, she still
wouldn't have been satisfied."

"And Mona?"

"She's still getting used to them. But last night, she was with us at
the party. And suddenly she found she could titty-fuck. A whole new
world opened up for her. Well, you know what it's like!"

"I don't actually," I told her. "It's been so long since I've done it,
I've forgotten. It was okay when my tits were only the same size as
yours, but where can I find a boy with a willie long enough to stick
between these things and peep out the top of my cleavage so I can lick
the end?"

A reasonable enough question, I thought. So why did Smegs storm out and
go stomping upstairs?

**********

The new bra owners had gone proudly home in the deepening snow, and the
three of us girls decided on a night at home.

"We don't want to go out there," said Tanya.

"But what are we going to do?" I said. I wanted to see Orson again. It
had been almost twelve hours, and I was suffering withdrawal symptoms.

"How about... wait for it..." said Smegs. "How about Strip Monopoly?"

"Strip what?" said Tanya.

"Strip Monopoly!" Smegs grinned at Tanya's horrified expression. "We
used to play it all the time in the dorm at St Cat's. It's a great way
of keeping cool on a hot night."

"What are the rules?" Tanya wanted to know. So Smegs explained them.
They're simple enough, after all. I fetched the board and the bits and
pieces, counted the money and checked that all the cards were there.

"Okay," I said. "Five minutes to get dressed?"

"Five minutes exactly," agreed Smegs. "Anyone late downstairs pays a
forfeit of one garment per minute late." We scampered upstairs, and
started putting on every item of clothing we could find.

"Remember old whatsername in the Fourths. How we stripped her right
down to her Tampax?"

"Nessa, wasn' it? And she overturned the board?"

"I wonder what Tan's going to be wearing? Shit, are you wearing all
those socks?"

"Why not? It's a chilly night."

**********

"Why can't *we* play, Mum?"

"It's a grown-ups game. That's why. It's just the three of us. And it's
your bedtime."

"Why have you got so many clothes on," asked Suzanne.

"I know," Pansy said smugly, and whispered in her ear. Suzanne
spluttered and the two girls hugged each other.

"Pansy says you're playing Strip Monopoly!"

Tanya looked helplessly at the two of us. We shrugged at her.

"Yes, we are. That's why it's a grown-ups game. Off to your room. You
can read. I'll come up and see you in an hour."

"We play Strip Monopoly at school, Mum. In the dorm."

"You do?" I said.

"Yes, Miss," asserted Pansy, nodding vigorously. "And I never lose."

"Not do I," said Suzanne. "We're very good at it. I hardly ever have to
take anything off at all."

"I suppose in that case it can't do much harm, Tan," I said, and the
girls hopped up and down in excitement.

"I suppose not, if they're as good at it as they say they are. Go on,
then, put loads of clothes on. You can play for an hour. Back down here
in three minutes." The girls shot up the stairs, and reappeared in what
seemed like seconds, wrapped in overcoats and scarves.

"Anyone would think you were going to build another snowman," I told
them. "They should be safe enough with that lot on," I said to Tanya.

"Right then, when you're all quite ready!" Smegs picked up the dice.
"I'm the little dog, as usual."

And I was the boot, as ever. Smegs rattled the dice.

Chapter 12:- Naomi Greene-Hunter-Wellington-Wykehame-Arthurstone-Smythe

Mother opened the door of the sitting room and looked in.

"What in the wide, wide world are you up to?" she said, aghast.

I thought about trying to explain, but it was too bizarre for Mother's
middle-class upbringing. We were sat around the board on the rug in
front of the fireplace. Perhaps it was just as well we were in a warm
place as a number of the players were having a run of appalling luck. I
blame poor financial advice.

Smegs was down to her knickers, bra and shirt. She was one of the more
successful ones. Tanya was completely naked. She had even been forced
to give up her hair ribbon and earrings. The girls, despite their
excellent record at St Cat's - or so they claimed - weren't doing very
well at all. Pansy was down to one sock and her panties, which were
quite pretty ones in a blue silky material. Suzanne had started with
her shoes and socks, then worked upwards, despite Tanya's protests. She
still wore her bra, blouse, sweater and woollen balaclava helmet.
Regrettably, from the waist downward, she was very much as Nature
intended.

I had been as successful as ever, and was sweltering in my shoes and
socks, tights, tracksuit bottoms, jeans, another pair of tracksuit
bottoms, three pairs of knickers, skirt, undervest, two shirts, four
sweaters, a jacket and an overcoat, plus two woolly hats. Sweat was
pouring off me. It was as well I hadn't worn a bra, I'd have been
roasted.

"It's an old St Cat's tradition," said Smegs at last, as Mother's jaw
hung open. "It's called Strip Monopoly."

"Ah, I see!" Mother looked at me. "YOU don't seem to be doing very
well, Shan," she said. Mother didn't quite seem to have got the hang of
the rules of the game. "What I really wanted to say was, you've got
unexpected visitors. You didn't know anything about anyone coming, did
you?"

"No, who is it?"

"It's that big black girl who used to be at St Cat's, years ago. She
came here, remember? Naomi and about half a dozen hyphens?"

"Naomi Greene-Hunter-Wellington!" I shrieked, leaping up. The board
tipped over, and all my hotels and houses slid off Mayfair and Park
Lane on to the Old Kent Road. "Show her in!"

"She's got her husband with her," said Mother. "I don't know if..."
she looked uncertainly at Tanya and the others. "She was trying to tell
me what had happened, but I couldn't make it out, it was so
complicated."

"Show them in here by the fire, they'll be freezing on a night like
this."

"Well, all right. If you say so." She went out, shaking her head in
sadness and confusion.

I had hoped the others might have had a few seconds to get dressed, but
the very next instant, we heard a familiar voice.

"Well, still playin' dis crazy-assed game, Shan? An' winnin' too,
still!" The imposing figure of Naomi Greene-Hunter-Wellington filled
the doorway. She came in, bringing a blast of icy air with her. "This
is my husband, Dennis." She dragged him into the room and he gaped at
the scene.

"Hello, Dennis," I said, to make him feel at home. He was a shortish
fair-haired lad, who looked about twelve. He obviously looked about
twelve to Suzanne, too, the wretched little slut was wiggling her naked
lower parts at the poor man in a manner which I could only describe as
an absolute disgrace. Pansy, determined not to be left out, was
breathing deeply and sitting sideways.

Naomi explained to Dennis. "I know some of these young ladies from my
schooldays. And this game is called Strip Monopoly. The aim is to keep
your gear on. Shan's winning. Megan's not doing very well, and Tanya is
it? Tanya is losing. Or has already lost."

"This is my daughter, Suzanne," said Tanya, "and my niece, Pansy."
Naomi looked at the girls critically. "They both go to St Cat's," Tanya
said, as if that explained everything. Obviously, to Naomi, it did.

"I see the old place is still the same," she observed, wryly.

"Let me take your coats," I said, peeling some of my own clothes off.
Smegs and Tanya rummaged around on the floor for their clothes, and
Tanya shooshed at the girls to make themselves decent. They began to
get dressed, slowly. Meanwhile, Naomi shrugged her fur coat off, and
hung it over my arm. Dennis looked uncomfortable, but took off his car
coat thingie.

The girls were gazing up at Naomi in sheer disbelief. So, I must
confess, was I.

"You're looking simply colossal, Naomi," I told her.

"You're fairly gigantic yourself," said Naomi, and I blushed prettily.
"Not half as big as you!" I said.

"I'm blushing, too," Naomi told me with a tinkling little trill of a
laugh. "It don't show, that's all." I gave the coats to Suzanne and
Pansy to hang up in the cloakroom. They giggled at each other as they
went out of the door.

"Well, here's a surprise," I said. "And married, too. Do tell!"

"Only since this afternoon," Naomi tucked her feet up beneath her on
the couch and fondly curled an arm around Dennis, who had settled at
her feet like a dog. "We were on our way to the West Country for our
honeymoon, but the roads are in a right old state. The M4 is at a
standstill, so we came this way. Then Dennis saw the signpost to
Fillamore Deepleigh and remembered his sister's staying here somewhere.
And of course, once we came down the hill into the village, I
remembered Fillamore Deepleigh as well."

"So we diverted down this way," said Dennis. "We'll never get out
again, the hill's like a skating rink."

"That's all right. You can stay here! Have your wedding night chez
Gruntworthy. We've still got a spare double room. I'll see Mother about
it." I started to get up.

"You're most kind," said Dennis, looking at Naomi, who nodded at him.

"Who's your sister, Dennis," asked Smegs, making polite conversation.
"We might know her."

"She doesn't actually live here as such. She was at school. St Cat's,
as it happens. Naomi recommended it last year, and Mummy and Daddy got
her a place. Mummy and Daddy simply dote on Naomi, don't they,
darling?" He reached up to take his new bride's hand, and she twisted
her gold ring round and round on her finger.

"Anyway," said Naomi, "she came to stay here, she was ill, or
something."

I had reached the door but turned round to listen, a strange feeling
gnawing at my vitals. "What's your sister's name, Dennis," I asked.

"Kirstie," he said. "Perhaps the er... little girls know of her.
Kirstie Wykehame-Arthurstone-Smythe? She's much younger than them,
though, she's only eleven."

"Curse!" shouted Pansy and Suzanne together.

"Kirstie's your sister?" I squealed. "You're Kirstie's brother?"

"You know her, too?" Naomi said to me.

"God, yes! But I didn't tell you, did I? I'm teaching at St Cat's this
year. I was Kirstie's teacher until her little accident. She was in
Suzanne's and Pansy's class, although she's older than them."

"Nobody said anything about an accident"; Dennis looked puzzled, about
quite a few things.

I realised they didn't know the details. How to break it to them
gently? "She had a little accident in the lab. She fell in a vat of
chemicals."

"She DID? How? What happened?"

"She was running away from a mouse," I explained, although it didn't
even sound convincing to me. "And she fell in, head over heels."

"So what happened to her? No wonder she's ill!"

"Oh, she's very well in herself. Her breasts grew, that's all! And
she's giving milk. That's what's she's doing here, she's at Baps's Girl
Dairy."

Naomi shook her head. "How big did her breasts get?" she said. Naomi
knew all about breasts suddenly getting bigger.

"Oh, not too bad. Not as big as yours, or even mine." The newly-weds
looked from one to another of us. "Bigger than Megan's, though," I
said, and Dennis and Naomi looked pained. So did Smegs. "They're a
little bit bigger than Tanya's, too, I suppose. She's really enjoying
herself here, though. You'll see her tomorrow?"

"That would be nice," said Dennis, faintly.

**********

"It's no problem," I told the loving couple. "Mother's preparing the
bridal suite now. It's a lovely room, next door to Mother and Daddy's
room, so we won't be able to hear you if you make a lot of noise."

"I'll be quiet as a mouse," promised Naomi, although I don't know about
Dennis.

"One thing intrigues me," I said. You were Naomi Greene-Hunter-
Wellington, and you married Dennis Wykehame-Arthurstone-Smythe, are you
Naomi Wykehame-Arthurstone-Smythe, now?"

"Absolutely not," snorted Naomi. "Greene-Hunter-Wellington is an old
and proud name. I have insisted on being known as Naomi Greene-Hunter-
Wellington-Wykehame-Arthurstone-Smythe!"

"That's not a name, it's a football team," said Smegs. "Naomi Greene-
Hunter-Wellington-Wykehame-Arthurstone-Smythe!" she repeated, getting
it word perfect.

"It has a certain ring to it," I said.

The two little girls came in for a goodnight kiss. "Night,
sweethearts," said Tanya, giving them each a big hug. They waved all
round and scampered away upstairs, probably to discuss this new vast-
breasted visitor, somehow now related to Curse.

"Did those two fall in the vat as well?" asked Naomi.

"No, they're completely natural, like me," laughed Tanya. "No chemicals
in these things, nor those two upstairs. They're big girls for ten,
aren't they!"

"What?" Dennis gulped. "Excuse me, but I am a lover of large breasts,
as you can tell. But Shan. There's you, and your mother. And Tanya and
the girls, and Megan. What is it all about?"

"And Kirstie, and Baps. And Baps's sister, Cassandra!"

"Cassandra?" Naomi looked shocked. "Little Cassie? She was hanging
around when we were down here making that film of a day in my life.
She's no age at all!"

"That's right!" I said as Mother came in.

"All ready," she announced. "I put a hot water bottle in the bed, it
will soon warm up."

"It certainly will," purred Naomi, huskily.

"You'll have some supper before you go up, won't you," said Mother.
"Just sandwiches, but these girls will be having some, for sure. I've
never known them refuse food!"

Mother still treats us all like children, sometimes. She even brought
the sandwiches in so we could have our supper in front of the fire. By
the time she brought them in, the Monopoly board was set up again, and
the dice were rattling. Naomi and Dennis had already lost their shoes
and socks.

They lost a lot more before we all made our way up to bed.

"Golly, you're so much bigger than when we were at St Cat's, Shan,"
said Naomi, in admiration, as I lost my shirt after some ill-advised
speculation on public utilities and an unscheduled spell in jail. I
blushed prettily again.

"Nowhere near as big as you, Naomi! You are quite simply gargantuan
now!" Dennis seemed quite captivated by them as well. He seemed to want
to get Naomi between the sheets as a matter of some urgency. Looking at
Naomi, I wouldn't have minded some of that tit wrapped round MY head!
Even Smegs was starting to look good to me.

And so it turned out. Clutching armfuls of clothes, we trooped upstairs
and accompanied the Wykehame-Arthurstone-Smythes to their bedroom door.
They disappeared inside, and we dispersed. At least, Tanya dispersed.
Smegs and I decided it was a cold enough night to share a bed.

**********

"Shall we take a walk after church? Before luncheon?" The newly-weds
had appeared downstairs at the crack of ten next morning. "We'll take
you to see Kirstie."

"That would be nice, Shan," said Naomi. "Dennis told me last night in
bed that he was rather worried about her, didn't you, darling?"

"You talked? Last night, in bed?" Smegs sounded bemused. "On your
wedding night?"

"I believe in starting the way I mean to carry on," said Naomi. "Don't
I, darling?"

Dennis wasn't saying much. In fact, he looked as if he'd just run a
marathon. The two little girls stared at him, trying not to giggle.
Naomi poured him another cup of coffee and carefully placed it in his
trembling hand.

"What time does Kirstie get milked, Pansy," I asked her.

"Usually about twelve, Miss. Very early in the morning, then twelve,
then teatime, and bedtime."

"Good, we'll get down to the dairy by quarter past twelve, then we
won't miss her."

"I wish I could get milked," Suzanne said wistfully, gazing up at
Tanya.

"Let's not get into that again," said Tanya.

"But just think, we wouldn't need Baps to bring the milk, I could
squirt it straight on to everyone's corn flakes in the mornings. Or
into their coffee. Think how much we'd save..."

"Suzanne, no!"

"... and Curse said it feels ever so good. Especially right down in
your..."

"SUZANNE!"

"You never let us do ANYTHING!" Suzanne complained, under her breath.
She sat back in her chair and pretended to milk herself, squeezing one
of her breasts with both hands. Pansy held her mug out to catch the
milk.

"You two go and build another snowman until it's time to go," ordered
Tanya, and the girls rolled their eyes to the ceiling. We all looked
out of the back window at the serried ranks of snowmen parading in the
garden. One more wouldn't make much difference.


Part V

Chapter 13:- Sunday Lunch

The entire village of Fillamore Deepleigh turned out to watch as we
took our Sunday morning promenade to Church. We made an impressive
spectacle, crunching through the fresh snow. I led the way on Daddy's
arm, waving to the public from time to time. Behind us walked Mother
and Tanya, then Smegs, on her own. Then came Naomi Greene-Hunter-
Wellington-Wykehame-Arthurstone-Smythe and Dennis Wykehame-Arthurstone-
Smythe. In the rear came Suzanne and Pansy, probably throwing snowballs
into the throngs of excitable villagers.

I know I should have been paying more attention, but I worked out that
if you didn't count the two men, you could reckon on forty-six feet of
thrusting bosom divided amongst us. Despite the attentions of forty-six
feet of stout brassieres, it all bounced up and down. Some of it also
jiggled from side to side. I wish I could have been a villager, able to
stand in rapt admiration of our triumphal passage.

Down the village street we paraded, and swung in through the lych-gate
leading to the churchyard. As we entered the church, heads turned to
look at us. We processed down the aisle to our family pew, and much
business ensued as we ushered each other to our seats, standing up and
sitting down by turns. Whispering broke out all over the church. The
congregation had seen plenty of fine-looking female bosoms around
Fillamore Deepleigh, after all, Baps delivered their milk every day,
but the Gruntworthy family pew contained more serious tit than they had
seen for many a long year.

Not only that, but beneath the straining shirt of Naomi Greene-Hunter-
Wellington-Wykehame-Arthurstone-Smythe, they were seeing the biggest,
blackest pair of tits in Borcestershire, probably.

The Reverend Boyes-Wrecktham mounted the pulpit and beamed down upon
his flock. Not normally a man to be overly impressed by feminine
pulchritude, he nevertheless permitted himself a gulp of amazement. He
announced 'O Come All Ye Faithful'; Mrs Pernickety gave the organ the
benefit of all the stops, both hands and the best part of both feet;
and the choir led the singing of the old familiar tune. Then was the
Reverend Boyes-Wrecktham truly pleased, for he could hear the dulcet
tones of at least half a dozen of his closest boyfriends.

**********

The Gruntworthys, together with the Wykehame-Arthurstone-Smythes, made
more noise than the rest of the congregation. It must have been all
that chest resonance. And as we finally filed out of the church at the
end; greeting all and sundry now it was all right to talk, shaking
hands with the Reverend Boyes-Wrecktham at the door, with the sun
twinkling down on the crisp snow; there was Baps with half a dozen of
her milk-girls.

"We arrived late, during "We Three Kings," so we snuck in and sat at
the back," said Baps. "Who's this? It's Naomi, isn't it?"

"Hi, Baps, great to see ya. Here, meet my husban', Dennis. Dennis, dis
is Baps!"

"Husband? You're a dark horse, and no mistake. No offence intended. How
long have you been wed, then?"

"It must be twenty-one hours now," Naomi said, squeezing Dennis to her
breast. "We're on our honeymoon."

"In Fillamore Deepleigh? You've gotta be joking! Oh, excuse me a
moment, I've got to send these girls back to the dairy, they're due on
at half-past twelve." She rounded up the girls into a twittering bunch
and sent them on their way with little smacks on their pertly rounded
bottoms. "Good kids, those," she said, fondly.

"We believe Dennis's sister is working for you, Baps," said Naomi.
"Kirstie!"

"Young Curse? Your sister? God, small world! Yeah, she's on at the
moment, due to finish in ten minutes. If we walk down that way now,
we'll be able to see her. Hey, she'll get a shock, she will!"

I wandered over in time to hear that last bit. Curse wasn't the only
one due for a shock!

"I was just going to suggest we stroll down to Baps's. Tanya and Smegs
are going straight back with Mother and Daddy to see to lunch, or
dinner, whatever it's called."

So Baps picked up the handles of her wheelbarrow and off we went - the
Wykehame-Arthurstone-Smythes, the girls and me - acknowledging the
cheers and waves of our adoring public.

**********

Baps placed a finger to her lips and whispered. "She's running late.
Taking the girls to church has thrown our schedule out a bit, this
morning. I hope the next shift don't leak while they're waiting." She
looked round at the girls waiting their turn at the milking machines.
They were not talking, pawing the ground nervously with their feet.

"Which one's Kirstie, Dennis?" asked Naomi.

"That one over there with her back to us. With the headphones on. Pink
top."

"She's not wearing a top," said Baps. "Everything you can see there.
That's Kirstie!"

As she spoke, Kirstie stirred in her chair, and took off her
headphones. She shook her hair and fluffed it up, then stretched like a
cat. Baps moved over to her and spoke in her ear. Kirstie spun round.

"Dennis! What are you doing down here?"

She waddled over, holding her naked breasts with both hands. She stood
on tiptoe and kissed her brother on the nose, then stood back, gently
rubbing her hugely distended and swollen nipples. "Ouch! That pox-
gobbling bloody machine. I've been sucked dry. Hi, Suzanne, Pansy. Hi,
Miss!"

Baps brought the girl's sweater over to her. "Here, girl, put this on.
You'll catch your death of cold, and then what will we do for yoghurt?"

Kirstie clambered into her sweater. It was like watching her wrestling
with a pair of yellow Labradors. "That's better," she said, giving each
of her breasts a little hoist into position.

Dennis looked more at ease now she'd put them away. "This is my wife,
Naomi," he said proudly.

Kirstie put out her hand. "Gosh, Auntie Naomi, you're humungous! I
thought I was big. I thought Miss Gruntworthy was big!"

"Thank you, Curse!" said Naomi, graciously. "You're not bad for eleven!
But I'm not your Auntie. I'm your sister-in law. Just call me Naomi,
right?"

Kirstie blushed prettily. Suzanne and Pansy took one of her hands each.

"Naomi and Dennis are on their honeymoon," said Suzanne breathlessly.
Pansy whispered something in Kirstie's ear, and all three girls went
bright red and giggled.

"What, all night?" Kirstie whispered, looking at Dennis with wide eyes.
She looked him up and down, mostly down. They all broke out in
splutters again.

"Must be time to be getting back," I said to Baps. "Is Curse free this
afternoon? She's welcome to come back with us to lunch if she likes."

"She's free until six, certainly."

"Great. We'll deliver her back here, then." I was glad Baps hadn't
suggested that we milked Curse ourselves. There were limits to one's
generosity, after all, even at Christmas. The three girls jigged up and
down in excitement.

"Okay. Curse, you'd better get dressed properly. You can't go out like
that. Nice tweed skirt, thick socks, sweater and a BRA, understand?
Right. Back here in three minutes. Go on!"

Suzanne and Pansy roared off with her to help her change.

"One of our best," said Baps fondly, as they bounded into the house and
up the stairs. "A few more like her, that's all we'd ever need!"

I hoped she'd never say that while Suzanne and Pansy were listening. We
didn't need them getting any more ideas.

**********

It wasn't Christmas Day until tomorrow, so it must have been a dilemma
what to have for Sunday lunch. I really sympathised with Mother over
such agonising decisions. That sort of thing always makes me feel truly
humble, flippant and trivial. When the New Year comes, I'm going to
make a resolution to be more serious, considerate and sensible. Until
then, I just wanna get strenuously, continuously and comprehensively
laid.

By the time we were sitting down eating our British roast beef and
Yorkshire pudding, with roast potatoes, baby carrots, broccoli spears,
mange-tout and gravy; my thoughts had already drifted away in the
direction of Orson. It can be dangerous to let your attention wander
when your breasts protrude so far across the table as mine do. Mother
and Daddy were very decent about it, and had helped me lift my right
breast out of the vegetable dish.

"I don't know what came over you, Shan," Mother said afterwards.
"Sitting down to the table with your bra on. What could you have been
thinking of?"

I knew what I had been thinking of, all right.

"You'd better take it off now, before you do some real damage!"

We were sitting around, sipping our coffee and feeling reasonably
bloated. I struggled to my feet from the couch and stripped off my
shirt and bra. Kirstie - who was close at hand - helped with the hooks.

"This is a nice bra, Miss," she said. "Lovely colour, what do you call
it?"

"Red," I told her.

"Gosh! Is it one of those adjustable ones? A ScatBra. Oooh, yes, it
says so on the label." She read the words out loud. "It's a size Large.
Wash dark colours separately. Oooh, Miss. Would it fit me?"

"No, Curse. You're only a Medium." I buttoned my shirt again and
flopped back down on the couch, my breasts now lying in my lap. Much
better. Much safer. I could even see my coffee cup. Mother was right,
of course. Can you imagine any girl in her right mind trying to eat
British roast beef and Yorkshire pudding, with roast potatoes, baby
carrots, broccoli spears, mange-tout and gravy entirely by feel? Very
messy. What had got into me? I knew what I wouldn't mind getting into
me at that moment.

"Everything all right, Naomi?" asked Mother in the voice she uses for
that sort of thing.

"Lovely, thank you, Mrs Gruntworthy. It was a nice change to get back
to some real English food again, after all that rice n' peas we have at
home." She placed a long-nailed hand on her husband's arm. "If you
like, I'll cook roast beef and Yorkshire pudding every day for you,
darling."

"Thank you, dear," said Dennis, faintly.

"And that pudding, too. Might I have the recipe, do you think, Mrs
Gruntworthy?"

"Of course, dear. Most of the ingredients are easy to get hold of: kiwi
fruit, Dead Sea Salt, self-lowering flour, bullace jam, half a gallon
of double girl-cream..."

"That might be a problem," said Naomi. "We don't have a girl-dairy near
us."

"I could get Miss Baps to send you some of mine," volunteered Kirstie.
Such a considerate girl. Excellent St Cat's material. "I might even be
able to send you some direct, say ten per cent off?"

I looked at Smegs. She was nodding her approval.

Dennis had gone pale. "This has been worrying me since last night. Do
you really mean to say you DRINK girl-milk? And use girl-butter and
girl-cream? I can't believe that."

"You're drinking it now, dear," said Mother. "In your coffee."

The three little girls were together on the other couch, still giggling
amongst themselves at something one of them had said. Suzanne spoke.
"If you'd let us give milk, Mummy, *we* could send it to Naomi, instead
of half Baps's profits going down the pan."

Tanya looked out of the window at the snowmen in the garden. Pansy
sighed and got to her feet. She reached her hand down to her cousin.
"Come on, Suze. It's time to go and build another snowman. You coming,
Curse?"

Kirstie whooped for joy. "A snowman? Gosh, yes. If I'm allowed. May I
go outside, Miss?"

"If you wish, Curse," I told her. "But wrap up well, you know how Miss
Baps is about your chest." Pansy pulled her upright. Suzanne puffed
heavily and stayed where she was.

"I can't move," she complained. "I feel absolutely STUFFED!"

"Not surprised," said Tanya, "you've been eating like a pig. Pull her
up, you two, and take her outside. She needs the exercise."

Pansy and Kirstie hauled Suzanne to her feet, grunting with the effort.
"She's ever so heavy, Auntie Tan," said Pansy.

Suzanne stood there, her hands on her stomach. "Must I, Mum? I feel so
full up. This skirt's so tight. And this bra!"

"Go and get changed. You'll feel better once you're outside, running
around." The girls slunk out and we heard them plodding up the stairs.
"I was the same at their age," said Tanya. "Or maybe a bit older. I was
plump, like Suzanne."

"You mean you were plump once, and then you lost it all?" I am always
interested in that sort of detail to pass on to my readers.

"I lost most of it," Tanya laughed. "Still got some of the spare tyre
round my middle. And this lot, of course." She indicated her bust. "In
fact, if Suzanne's the same as me, she's only got a year or so before
she loses the puppy-fat and starts developing some real boobs, God
forbid!"

"It was Christmas when it happened to us the first time," said Smegs. I
felt a wave of warmth for her. Smegs didn't often get nostalgic.

"We were both here, and our tits grew overnight," I reminded everyone.
"And then they did it again. All those years ago! Hey, you don't think
it's going to happen to Suzanne, do you? Not this Christmas?"

"Nah, she's got a couple of years yet." Tanya counted on her fingers
and nodded. "I was older than her when it happened to me. And my sister
was thirteen before she had any tits at all."

"You mean like Toria and Pansy?" I reminded her. "They hardly take
after their mother, so what makes you think Suzanne will?"

"There's nothing wrong with hoping, is there? Tanya had her fingers
crossed. For luck?

The three girls came clattering down the stairs and presented
themselves for inspection, wrapped up in dozens of layers of sweaters
and scarves.

"I took my bra off, Mum," said Suzanne. "It was cutting me in half!"

"So did I, Auntie Tan," called Pansy, over her shoulder, as they
bundled out of the door. Tanya and I looked at each other in horror.
Smegs seemed apprehensive. Naomi was bemused. Dennis looked pale.

Mother said, "Oh, I shouldn't worry, Tanya, they've had too much to
eat. They'll soon work it off out there."

"I hope you're right," said Tanya.

**********

Now that, readers, is what's called in the trade as laying it on with a
shovel. The big build-up. As if anyone would even dare to suggest that
our two favourite little cousins' titties would get any bigger than
they already are.

**********

"Bring his head, Curse, his body's ready." Suzanne straightened up with
an effort and helped Kirstie dump the huge snowball on top of the
snowman's shoulders. "There! He's one of our better efforts."

She wound her scarf around the man's neck. Pansy stuck pebbles into its
belly for coat buttons. The three of them stood back to admire their
efforts.

Pansy suddenly had an idea.

"Let's turn him into a woman!" she said daringly. The others gasped at
the very idea.

"You mean, give him titties?" Suzanne whispered.

"Why not? They're all men so far. Let's give them a woman to fuck!"

"Oh, Pan! That's a rude word!" Kirstie led a more sheltered life at the
girl-dairy.

"No, it's the right word," said Pansy, confused. "It means making love,
and sitting on people's faces."

"Yuck," commented Kirstie. "What for?"

"Don't knock it 'til you've tried it, Curse!" Suzanne nudged Pansy and
they both giggled at their friend. "We'll explain later. C'mon. Let's
get these tits stuck on. Make them really HUGE ones, like Curse's!"

"Like your Mum's," said Pansy.

"Like Cassie's," said Suzanne.

"Like Miss Gruntworthy's," suggested Kirstie, with great daring.

"Like Naomi's!" laughed Pansy.

Suzanne looked around the garden. "No, I don't think there's enough
snow left for that. Besides, it's the wrong colour."


Chapter 14:- On The Couch

I haven't even mentioned Christmas shopping, have I? I didn't forget,
and get right up to Christmas Eve, which was a Sunday, and then have a
feeling of panic. The Gruntworthy's don't do that sort of thing. No, I
believe in keeping secrets, and Christmas presents are the best secrets
of all.

The best thing about buying prezzies for growing girls is that you can
give them clothes, and they really appreciate them. Boys prefer nasty
technological things, but girls are easy. Well, some girls are easier
than others. On Christmas morning, I thought that if Orson was to walk
through that door at that moment, he would find the easiest girl of all
time throwing herself on to his throbbing pikestaff. I was ready for
it, you might say. And there were hours to go before I saw him; he
wasn't coming until the afternoon, and I would still have to observe
the decencies. One could hardly screw during the Queen's speech, after
all.

I counted the hours and shuddered. Idly, I looked out of the bedroom
window over the white landscape. Suddenly, my eye caught something in
the garden below.

"Oh, bloody hell, Smegs, what's THAT?"

She didn't want to get up. Too much to drink the night before, as
usual. She wouldn't even answer, until I heaved the bedcovers off her.
That would have presented a shock to any casual observers in our
bedroom, had there been any. Years ago, I described Smegs's favoured
sleeping position. Most huge-breasted girls sleep on their backs, with
their breasts to each side of their bodies. I know I do.

Smegs sleeps on her elbows and knees, with her breasts in the space
provided by Nature. It looks uncomfortable, and it probably is. In
fact, it looks disgusting. But as Smegs points out, it's excellent for
doggying. She was most rude about it the first time she said that to
me.

"You should know all about getting doggied, Shan-tail! It's your fave
position. With me, I sleep in that position, so I can fuck with
bothering to wake up."

How did she KNOW it was my fave position. I am nothing if not
versatile. True, Jeremy and I... but all that's in the past. Now, it's
Orson and I. "Oooh, Orse!" I came spontaneously, which didn't help
matters.

"Get up, you! Get your arse out of that stinking pit and come and look
at this!" I helped her out of bed by grasping a nipple firmly and
pulling. Where her nipple went, Smegs would surely follow.

"What is it?" She joined me at the window, squinting into the snowy
whiteness.

I pointed to the garden. "What are *they* up to?" I indicated the
snowmen. And snow-women.

At this stage, I had to disable the grammar-checker on my word-
processor, which was insisting on calling them all snow-persons.

"Oh, fuck me!" said Smegs, invitingly.

I declined her gracious offer, although I did slip three or four caring
fingers into her dewy cooze. She parted her legs slightly and bent to
give me a damp, alcohol-scented kiss on the mouth. Twenty minutes
later, our noses and eyebrows slick with juices, we looked out of the
window again. The snowpersons were still at it.

We counted eight couples, and they were unmistakeably coupling. In
every case, the snow-women were on top. In five of the eight cases,
they were sitting on their snow-partners' faces. Two were sucking them
intimately. Smegs and I studied the group with fascination. It ws
obviously the work of deeply depraved minds.

"Who did that lot?" I said at last.

"Who do you think?"

"The girls? No, they wouldn't. Those snowmen are heavy. They couldn't
have rolled them into those positions. Could they?"

"Girls deprived of boys can have the strength of ten men," Smegs
observed wisely.

"Look at the fuckin' TITS on those things," I said.

"I'm looking!" Smegs said grimly. "Why does everyone have to have
bigger ones than mine?"

Some of them were bigger than mine, even.

I gave one of hers a sympathetic squeeze, and she responded in kind.
This time, we went back to bed for an hour. After we eventually got up
and took a shower together, I was just as ready for Orson, but not
actually frothing any more.

**********

"They're only fucking, Mum!" Suzanne was puzzled at Tanya's stern
reaction. I think Tanya was upset that she wasn't getting any, while
half the county's population of snowpeople had apparently been banging
away all night beneath our bedroom windows.

"We thought we'd let them have some fun," said Pansy. "Seeing as it's
Christmas, an' all!"

"But what if the vicar comes?" said Tanya.

"Nah, that's all right," said Suzanne, scornfully. "Old Boyes-Wrecktham
is only into little choirboys. He won't be jealous of our snowmen
getting it off with snowgirls, will he?"

"We could make him a snowboy, if he likes," offered Pansy. "Just a
little one."

"Don't you dare," said Tanya, trying to keep her face straight and
failing.

"It's not funny, Mum," insisted Suzanne. "The vicar ought to be allowed
to have a snowboy if he wants one. I bet his boyfriends are all at home
having dinner with their Mums and Dads. How can the vicar find
Happiness at the Festive Season if he can't bury himself up to the hilt
in a choirboy?"

Pansy nodded vigorously in agreement.

"How do you know about all this?" said Tanya, sternly.

"The girls down the dairy were all talking about it, weren't they,
Pan."

"That's right," said Pansy. "They told us what he does with them. In
the little room behind the choir stalls. The sacristy. With little
drawings on an envelope."

"It sounded yucky, but as long as he doesn't do it to us, it's all
right!" Suzanne looked up at her mother for confirmation.

It did. It was. And yes, it probably was.

Still, we all looked at the Reverend Boyes-Wrecktham in a slightly
tarnished light as he delivered his brief sermon that morning. Why
couldn't *our* little girls be like other normal schoolchildren, I
thought, as we watched the local school's production of the Nativity
play in the church.

It got off to a rousing start with the Angel Gabriel being goosed by
the choir in the middle of a major speech, and continued at a brisk
pace.

Mind you, I observed, the choice of Baps's sister, young Cassandra, for
the part of The Blessed Virgin Mary was possibly a controversial piece
of casting; although the Baby Jesus, played by a real live boy-child,
was certainly getting the feed of His young life. Cassie had released
one gigantic, milk-swollen breast from her capacious robe to make the
Baby's task easier, and since bras hadn't been invented in the year
Zero, her other one flopped out halfway through the performance, to a
grunt from the Madonna and rapturous applause from the boys in the
choir, especially when Farmer Buggey's young donkey stepped forward for
a guzzle as well.

At least, the Shepherds and the Three Wise Men helped Cassie tuck it
all away out of sight at the end; which I thought was very decent of
them, even though it did take almost five minutes. But I would have
definitely marked young Joseph down for a severe talking-to for trying
to sneak a crafty suck from his betrothed. With behaviour like that, it
was little wonder they couldn't find an hotel room in the Holiday
season.

The crowds had plenty to discuss as they gathered outside the church
after the service. Most of the male population of Fillamore Deepleigh
were convinced it was the best piece of entertainment they'd had since
the end of the Uncontrollable Horniness. And Mr Hudspith, father of
young Joseph, was besieged with offers to produce multiple dubs from
his video recording of the proceedings. When we left, he was busily
taking orders.

**********

After that, it was the usual family Christmas afternoon. Bloated people
settled down to watch "Ghostbusters II," and promptly fell asleep. The
girls slipped away upstairs to play with their latest video game, and
Orson arrived.

It would have been rude to our guests to take him up to bed, so we sat
on the couch. Mother and Daddy were sound asleep. Tanya was twitching
in her sleep like a dog dreaming of chasing a bitch on heat, or maybe
the other way around. Smegs had adopted her sleeping position, but
fortunately she was out of our direct gaze, so we were able to ignore
her. Naomi and Dennis were attempting to watch the film. At least,
Dennis was, but Naomi seemed to have other ideas, and from where Orson
and I were sitting, some of them weren't bad ones at all.

It was a close call which couple got down to it first. I think Naomi
probably shaded it by a short head, if you will pardon the expression,
but Orson and I weren't far behind. But when it came to the moment of
actual penetration, we were all four of us too far gone to decide the
winner.

And in the race to the first orgasm, the judges would certainly have
called for a photo. I was perhaps half a length in the lead into the
final furlong, but I could hear Naomi coming fast on the rails, with
Dennis upsides her, and Orson going well on the Stand side. We crossed
the line four abreast with nothing to choose, and lay panting and
steaming in the unsaddling enclosure.

It was only then that we realised that Mother and Daddy, Smegs and
Tanya and the two little girls were all watching us as we slowly
paraded in the Winner's Circle.

The polite applause eventually died down, and we adjusted our clothing,
feeling slightly embarrassed, somehow. Mother is always very good on
these occasions.

"I think a cup of tea would go down well after that," she announced.
"Come along, Suzanne, Pansy, you can help me carry the cups."

The girls sensed somehow that nothing was going to happen for another
twenty minutes or so and followed her into the kitchen. Faintly, I
could hear their voices.

"Yes, but what were they all DOING?"

Personally, I could have done with a quick rub down, a handful of oats
and a warm blanket, but you can't have everything. Carefully avoiding
the puddle on the couch, I snuggled up to Orson, feeling warm and
comfortable, apart from the bodily fluids seeping out of various
apertures. At the other end of the couch, the Wykehame-Arthurstone-
Smythes were doing the same. Naomi and I winked at each other, and she 
glanced at the clock.

Same as me, she was looking forward to the next race on the card.

**********

Perhaps Mother's not quite as broad-minded as she pretends to be. After
the next event, in which Naomi and I finished twice and five times
respectively, well clear of the two stallions, Mother actually
suggested that we might be more comfortable doing it in bed.

Daddy was prepared to back me up when I protested that it would be
awfully rude to go to bed on Christmas afternoon, but Mother more or
less insisted. So we didn't see a lot more television. At least, Orson
and I were able to accept Naomi's kind offer to join them on their
king-size bed, which was very nice, especially when the partners became
a little mixed up. I ended up with Naomi, which perhaps didn't impress
Dennis and Orson too greatly, although we weren't really watching them.
I doubt if they actually DID anything to each other, although Orson's
Dad does keep quite a few sheep on the farm.

The only fly in the ointment really was that the Wykehame-Arthurstone-
Smythes's bedroom was directly above the sitting room, and for some
reason, those inconsiderate people downstairs kept turning up the
volume on the television as the afternoon wore on. By five o'clock we
could hardly hear ourselves fucking. I was hoarse from screaming during
my almost continual climaxes, and Naomi, never really a quiet girl, was
shaking the windows.

We could hear dogs barking and howling in the street outside, and once,
when I looked out of the window, a small crowd had gathered in the
snow. I called Naomi over to join me and we waved to them, standing
naked at the window, our huge breasts thrusting out like four blimps
advertising Black & White Scotch Whisky.

The crowd waved back and blew kisses. Lovely people, the inhabitants of
Fillamore Deepleigh.

**********

It was Smegs who impressed me most of all when we crept downstairs with
our arms full of soiled sheets and pillowcases. She could easily have
turned her back and let us load the whole lot into the washing machine.

Not Smegs. No. She even went out into the back yard and fetched a
bucket. Then, rolling up her sleeves, she took our moist sheets and
wrung them out into the bucket, the corded muscles of her forearms
rippling as the bucket gradually filled with a highly sexy fluid. Tanya
must have sensed what was going on, because she came tumbling into the
scullery to help. Only when they had wrung the sheets almost dry did
they let us load the washing machine, on its setting for 'Biological
Pre-Soak'.

I never found out what they did with that half-bucketful of juices, but
I imagine it ended up at the pantie-soilery.

Now that's what I call dedication.


Chapter 15:- Room For Growth

"Pansy, it's your Mummy on the phone. All the way from Japan!"

"Mummy!" Pansy leaped to her feet, all kinds of things happening
beneath her shirt. I handed her the phone and her eyes sparkled as she
shouted into it, "Mummy?"

The conversation was mostly conducted in shrieks and squeals from our
end, with the occasional question. "When are you coming home? What do
you eat? Even at Christmas? Gross!" Then there was a long silence from
Pansy, with just the odd word. Finally, she said, "and she's going to
be flying back with you?" What was going on?

At last, Pansy said, "Bye-bye, Mummy, Bye Daddy Paul, Bye Dan, Bye
Toria!" It was like the Waltons. She handed the phone to Tanya, and
quivering with excitement, grabbed Suzanne and dragged her to the
couch. How was anyone supposed to hear what Tanya was saying while they
were trying to hear what Pansy was saying as well?

Tanya put the phone down. "Wheeee!" she said, informatively. "They seem
to be enjoying themselves, anyway."

"What was she saying, then?" I asked.

"They're having a great time. Apparently Sis and Toria are proving very
popular. Larger breasts seem to go down very well in Japan."

"They're coming back this week, before the New Year. And they're
bringing a girl home with them," yelled Pansy.

"Do what?"

"Yes, Miss! They met this family and there's this girl, a year older
than Toria, who's coming back with them on the plane."

"But what for? Have they kidnapped her or something?"

"Oh, Miss! She's coming to St Cat's for a whole year!"

"A Japanese girl, at St Cat's? But why? Does she speak English? What is
she going to learn?"

Quite a lot, I thought! I could imagine this unexpected visitor on
being confronted with the Single-handed Wanking Class on her first day.

"She speaks very good English, Miss, so Toria says. She's just coming
to broaden her outlook. That's what Mum called it."

Which was putting it in a nutshell. She was going to have her outlook
broadened all right, that was for sure! Gosh, I thought. What about the
St Cat's uniform? Was this girl going to be wearing a kimono to school?
It would be most disruptive. Why couldn't people consider the
inconvenience of the teaching staff before making these knee-jerk
decisions. I suppose Moggie had been at the back of it, angling for
increased kudos. She'd be able to put 'International Student Exchange a
Speciality' on the school prospectus. What about school meals? Did we
have to provide raw fish for lunch? And rice, and everything? The cooks
would go absolutely ape-shit!

I was not happy.

**********

"What are we going to do today, then?" Mother was in one of her
organisational moods. She wasn't waiting for suggestions. "I think we
should go out for a walk with the dogs."

We adopted a thunderstruck silence. I think I spoke for the rest of us
when I replied.

"But, Mother. We don't have any dogs."

"That's not important. We can soon find some dogs. Lets put our boots
on and go for a walk. Suzanne, Pansy, go and borrow some dogs. There's
one next door, and Baps has a few, she's bound to have a spare she's
not using this morning."

The girls looked at her as if she had taken leave of her senses. They
looked at Tanya, who shook her head in confusion. She shrugged and the
girls started edging toward the door. Mother called them back. "You'd
better get some more clothes on before you go. It's bitterly cold out
there."

Suzanne appealed to her mother for support in her hour of need. "Off
you go, darling. Put your new chunky sweater on and go borrow some dogs
as Mrs Gruntworthy suggests. It will be nice up on the hills. We'll
take a tea-tray and you can toboggan down the hill."

Suzanne and Pansy started to hop up and down in excitement, but
suddenly stopped, looking sheepish. They started to skulk out the door.

"Wait a minute!" called Tanya. They crept back in. "Are you wearing a
bra, Suzanne? And you, Pansy?"

They both shook their heads.

"I think you'd better, don't you? I've told you about wearing a bra.
You'll appreciate it in later life if you keep yourselves properly
supported now."

The girls looked at each other, silently appointing a spokesperson. It
was Suzanne.

"We couldn't get them on, Mum. I tried, but mine was too small. So was
Pansy's."

"Rubbish," said Tanya, helplessly, but she could see, as well as the
rest of us, that Suzanne was telling the truth. "Oh, bloody hell!" I
think as sound-bites go, that summed it up fairly well, on the whole.

"Let's have a look," she said. "Up in your room, not here!" she yelled
as Suzanne obligingly started to remove her sweater. "Come with us,
Shan," she said.

So I followed them up to the attic room. I hadn't been up there for a
while. The girls' room was like a dormitory in many ways: the mess, the
clutter, the haunting scent of girls. I gagged a little but followed
them into the room. Tanya took charge.

"Right, both of you. Get your gear off." The cousins obliged. Tanya
stopped them when they reached their skirts. "That's enough. Just the
tops." That was a relief, at least. We looked at the two of them in
silence, Tanya slowly turning them round for a thorough inspection. At
last, she sighed. "What do you reckon, Shan? Have they grown?"

Why ask ME? I didn't make a habit of stripping my class to see how big
their boobies were every passing week. "They're bigger," I said.
"Anyone can see that!"

"That's what I thought," said Tanya, looking sharply at the two girls
who were giggling and nudging each other for joy. "Can we get some of
those ScatBras for them?"

"Probably," I said. "You saw how they fit the other day when Clit and
Flaps were down here. The range of standard sizes covers anything, even
the smallest. What size is Pansy. Or rather, 'was'?"

Tanya picked up Pansy's bra from one of the beds. The label was faded,
to match the stretched elastic of the sides and back. "This has been
getting too tight for some time, hasn't it, darling?" she said, and
Pansy nodded. "32 something," Tanya said, squinting at the label.

"That'll be a small-medium," I guessed bravely. "Probably a SBSMSMCW2
or thereabouts."

Tanya raised an eyebrow. "If you say so. What was all that again?"

"ScatBra, small-medium band, small-medium cups, number 2
counterweights," I explained. Pansy looked like the cat that got the
cream. She swelled visibly with pride.

"I see," said Tanya. "Are you positive of that?"

"It's a guess, but it won't be far out. All the sizes overlap to a
certain extent."

"Well, what about Suzanne, then?" Suzanne pricked up her ears.

"At a rough guess, you understand. I mean, we haven't measured them or
anything. But I'd say she needs a SBMMMMCW3, or possibly it might be a
SBMMMLCW3. The SBMMMLCW3 will allow a bit more room for growth, of
course!"

"Oh, of course. Okay, you girls, carry on and get dressed as well as
you can, then go out and borrow some dogs. Come on, Shan. We'd better
call your bra people. Do they work on Boxing Day, do you think?"

"We can try. There might be a pantie van coming down this way to the
airport. If there is, they can throw a few bras on there and drop them
off for us."

So we made our way downstairs. In fact, I got through to Clit on her 
mobile phone. She wasn't overly impressed at being interrupted, until
she found out it was me.

"Oh, hi, Miss Gruntwurvy," she panted rhythmically. "Excuse the
pantin', I'm in the middle of a fuck." There were a few grumbles in the
background, off mike, as it were. "Oh, shut up and lie still," she
said. "Sorry about that. Bloody men! Anyway, what sizes are they
roughly?"

I told her.

"I'd... go for the... ML for the... big girl, 'f I was... you. Give
'er... room to... expand. And... go for a... heavier... counterweight.
You can always... remove... weight, but you can't... add it so... easy.
We'll send a... few pair down... for you to... AAAGH!... YOU
BASTARD!... try."

This was most offputting. "Oh, thank you so much" I managed to say, at
last. "Is there a van coming down this way? Will it be too much trouble
for the driver?"

"Oooh! S'cuse me! Fuckin' hell, darlin'! Sorry Miz Gruntwurvy," she
panted heavily. "He's just come! No trouble at all for him. He'll want
to get back to his family, yeah, but he'll do anyfin I tell him. Won't
you, Reggie?"

I put the phone down, breathing heavily myself. "All done," I gasped.

"What's up with you?" asked Tanya, looking at me strangely.

"It was hard work," I said, "and I was only a spectator."

Smegs had been listening. "What was that bra size again?" she demanded.

"Which one? Pansy's or Suzanne's?"

"Suzanne's. The ML!"

"SBMMMLCW4, we decided to go for, to be on the safe side, why do you
ask?"

"It's not good enough, Shan! You can't keep doing this to me!"

"Doing what to you? I'm not doing anything."

"That's another girl bigger than me," she complained, bitterly. "If
Suzanne's an MLCW4, she's got bigger tits than me. It's got to stop!"

"It's not MY fault. It's not even boob-spray this time. If those two
girls grew, it's all down to Mother Nature."

**********

We took our walk. Still hot from my phone call with Clit, I called
Orson, who had a sledge, of course, in his shed. He met us at the top
of the hill with the Land Rover. We hauled that thing to the top of the
hill time and again, and the girls went plummeting down again, their
unrestrained breasts rebounding freely over the humps and bumps.

And we only lost two of the dogs, which wasn't bad at all. In fact,
they got home before us, so they must have become pissed off with the
cold and decided to get back to their firesides. Dusk was falling, as
we trudged back home, tingling all over and red-faced. Not Dennis and
Naomi. Dennis was even paler than usual, perhaps from lack of sleep.

There was a huge cardboard box waiting for us on the doorstep. Good old
Reggie, I thought, as we dragged it indoors. Clit had taken no chances
on sizes. The note in the box said we could use whichever we needed,
and take the rest back after the holiday.

Smegs grumbled about Clit playing fast and loose with the Company's
funds and stock, but nobody was listening to her. The cousins were
already dragging bras out of the box and trying them on, following the
instructions that had been given to Mona and Cassie last week. In no
time, they were proudly displaying their new voluptuous figures.

Bloody hell, I thought. Look at them! Tanya already was. "I should have
known," she said over again. "They're just the way I was, but a year or
more ahead." She rummaged through the box and came up with a huge
fluorescent pink thing. "Bloody Nora," she said. "Look at this one!"
she read the label. "SBMLXLCW6, it says. Hey, Naomi. You reckon she
knew you were staying here for you honeymoon?" And she tossed the giant
bra at the tall black girl.

Of course, Naomi looked even more gargantuan once she put it on and got
it nicely adjusted. The girls helped her. Even Dennis was losing his
pallor as he watched. As soon as the opportunity presented itself, he
almost flung himself upon his wife in an excess of lust.

"Hoi, hang on, lover," she squealed. "It just took twenty minutes to
get this thing on, now you're trying to get it off. Are you never
satisfied?"

He was, ten minutes later. Meanwhile, out in the garden, by the light
of torches, another snowgirl gradually took shape, with bigger boobs
than any of the others.


Part VI

Chapter 16:- House Guests

"It's Mummy and Daddy Paul. And Toria and Danny. And the Japanese Girl,
Rumiko!" Pansy yelled, as she plonked the phone down. "They're at the
airport and they're coming this way!"

"What did you say to them, Pansy?" asked Mother. "They could stay here
for the night. It's no trouble. We've plenty of room now the Wykehame-
Arthurstone-Smythe's have gone on down to the West Country."

"I couldn't say much, Mrs Gruntworthy," said Pansy, "Mummy was in a
pay-phone and her money ran out."

"Perhaps they'll call again, dear," said Daddy. He doesn't say much,
but what little he does say usually makes some sense.

"Probably," Mother sighed. "But I wish I knew. I could put extra dinner
on."

She needn't have worried. They called again twenty minutes later, and
accepted the invitation. "Of course it's no trouble," said Mother,
suddenly panicking and searching around for extra potatoes. "We've got
stacks of room. There's the bridal suite for you and your husband, if
you could have the little boy in there with you, and the girls can go
in the attic next door to Suze and Pan."

No problem. All done and dusted. "They're on their way to Hereford to
see their Grandmother, so they can stop off for two nights instead of
going home. So, we just need another fifty-six pounds of potatoes.
Darling, would you...?" Then Mother started fretting about Rumiko. What
does she eat? Do we have to send out for some raw fish for her?"

"Mother, she's a girl, not a sea-lion."

"But they eat all sorts of stuff. Rice and that. Perhaps I can make a
rice pudding. That's twelve ounces of rice, six of sugar, half a gallon
of full-cream girl-milk..." Mother was in a panic. It was not a pretty
sight.

"Look," I said. "She's coming to St Cat's. There won't be any special
food for her there. She'll get used to it. And she'll eat anything. You
know what girls are like when they're hungry. What were *we* going to
have?"

"Oh, the usual. I'd thought of a cottage pie. And rice pudding, of
course."

"Oh, of course. Probably, having flown halfway round the world, all
they'll want to do is sleep all day and have breakfast for the next few
nights. I was jet-lagged coming back from Holland last year."

"I suppose so. I wish I could do something to welcome little Rumiko to
this country. Something she could remember."

"I shouldn't worry, Mother. She'll be at St Cat's soon enough. That'll
be something for her to remember,all right!"

**********

Suzanne and Pansy were twittering with excitement.

"What's Mum going to say when she sees my new boobs, Suze?"

"What about Toria when she sees mine," said Suzanne. "She'll go ape-
shit. You know what she's like about them."

"What about me, she's MY sister," said Pansy, biting her lip. "I was as
big as her before. I must be miles bigger than her now. She'll hate me
for this. Or for these!"

"I wonder what this Rumiko will be like," Suzanne mused. "Do Japanese
girls have titties?"

"I don't think so," said Pansy. "They wear sort of narrow dresses, so
they don't have any room for boobs. And their feet are close together
when they walk."

"What do you mean? Mine are close together, look, they touch each
other."

"No, it's not their feet, it's their knees that are close together.
Like this." Pansy demonstrated, wiggling sinuously across the room with
her knees clamped tight against each other.

Suzanne watched her for a while. "Why?" she said, simply.

"They just do, that's all."

"And do they pull that stupid face as well?" Suzanne adopted a
simpering expression, making her mouth look tiny, like that character
in the famous joke about the wide-mouthed tree frog. Pansy hit her.
Suzanne said "Ouch!"

"If you make fun of her, she'll hit you harder than that. They can
break bricks with a single chop of their hands, Japanese girls can!"

"Huh! Her and whose army!" Suzanne took a deep breath and made herself
look huge. Not too difficult. Pansy looked at her cousin in awestruck
silence.

"Well, maybe she won't, come to think about it," she said.

**********

Suzanne wanted one point cleared up. I was washing up with Tanya in the
kitchen when Suzanne wandered in.

"How do Japanese people fuck?" she asked. Just like that. Subtle,
Suzanne ain't.

"Whaaat?" Tanya clutched at the draining board for support.

"How do..."

" Suzanne! I heard you the first time! What the f..." Tanya stopped
herself. "What do you mean? You can't go around asking questions like
that. Especially when Rumiko comes."

"But Pansy says they walk like this." She showed us, complete with the
constipated facial expression which came with the walk. "And if they
walk like this, how can they get their legs apart to fuck? Or don't
they do it?"

"Oh, I'm sure they do it," said Tanya. "Not that I've ever watched
them. I'd imagine they only keep their knees together when they're
wearing those dresses that are tight round the knees."

"They take them off when they make love," I volunteered. "Not that I've
ever watched them." Although, thinking about it, I wouldn't mind.

"Oh, good," said Suzanne, sounding pleased. "'Cos she'll be doing Sex
in the Fourth Form, won't she, Miss?"

"Well, yes, but not Practical Sex. It's all theory until the Fifths.
She won't need to actually impale herself on anyone until then, and
even then it will only be a dummy." I could see Tanya's expression
turning to incredulity as I revealed the broad strategy of St Cat's
sexual education. It was time to change the subject. "Anyway, Rumiko
won't be wearing national costume. She'll wear St Cat's uniform, same
as the rest of you."

Suzanne looked disappointed, then a thought occurred to her.

"Mum," she said. "You know my uniform. The blazer and shirts and
everything?"

Ah, yes. Of course. I could see what was coming. More expense for
Tanya.

"They're going to be too small, I know. I've been trying not to think
about it too hard. Well, at least, Grandma Trudy said she'd pay for all
your uniforms. And Pansy can wear your old shirts. They'll be a bit
loose, but..."

"Oh, she'll soon grow," said Suzanne, airily. "Her Mum did, didn't
she."

Fortunately, Reggie's van was due to be down this way again before the
New Year, with an emergency consignment of knickers for Heathrow, so we
were able to get Clit and Flaps to throw a few size 64-inch blazers and
shirts on it for Suzanne to try. They were promised for the end of the
week.

And I offered her one of my old extra-length neckties. "Wow, thanks,
Shan!" said Tanya. At least, as Tanya pointed out to me, it was easy
enough to take in the seams of her skirts as she began gradually to
lose the puppy-fat. One way and another, with Suzanne and Pansy, and
Rumiko, the family was going to make quite an impact on St Cat's at the
beginning of the Spring Term.

**********

The girls were up in the attic when the car arrived. Pansy had her nose
pressed against the window.

"There they are!" she shrieked, bouncing off the bed. Literally. Even a
ScatBra can do only so much.

"Let's have a look," insisted Suzanne, pushing close to the window.
"They don't look any different," she said, sounding disappointed.

"Why should they?" said Pansy, they've only been away a week.

"Well, THEY may only have been away a week, but WE look different,"
Suzanne pointed out with chilling logic.

"Look, there she is," Pansy pointed to a slender girl with black hair
who was getting out of the back seat of the car.

"She looks quite normal," said Suzanne in disgust. "She's not even
wearing one of those things."

"She's got a camera round her neck," said Pansy, in desperation. "That
must prove something."

"I could hang a camera round my neck, but it wouldn't make me
Japanese."

"If you hung a camera round your neck, you'd lose it between your
tits," retorted Pansy cruelly. She winced in anticipation of the blow
that never came.

"Hmmm, yes," said Suzanne, looking down at herself with pride. "I
suppose I would, too. I AM huge, aren't I, Pan! I mean, you're very
big, but you're not HUGE, like me."

"Come on, cousin, let's get downstairs and meet the family," and they
thundered down like a herd of rather well-developed buffalo.

**********

"... And this is my sister. Sis, Mr and Mrs Gruntworthy, Shan's
parents, Megan you've heard of; Shan, Smegs, my sister and her Paul,
Toria you know, of course, and Daniel. And this is Rumiko."

Rumiko shook hands gravely, murmuring "Miz Gruntworthy" or something
very much like it.

"Miss Gruntworthy is a teacher at St Cat's," Tanya explained, in loud
English. Perhaps I had missed something, but nobody had said Rumiko was
deaf, or even differently abled aurally.

"Ah, teacher!" Rumiko gave a little bow. "How I call you?"

"The girls call me 'Miss Gruntworthy', or just plain 'Miss'. But not
until we get to St Cat's. It doesn't matter at home."

"So, Just Pray Miss!" Rumiko bowed again. I opened my mouth to explain,
but thought better of it. 'Just Plain Miss' it could stay, for now at
least.

That was the introductions over, and Tanya's sister was looking around
for her younger daughter, who arrived late on the scene and flung
herself into her mother's arms, burying her head in her extremely large
bosom, although these things are relative.

Suzanne hovered menacingly on the outskirts of the group, eyeing up
Rumiko, as if expecting an imminent unprovoked attack. If an attack was
threatened, it was more likely to come from Toria, who was staring at
Pansy and Suzanne with ill-disguised hatred. More introductions
followed, and finally, Pansy and Suzanne were presented to Rumiko.

She shook hands with Pansy, then with Suzanne. "Hey," said Rumiko, "you
got MONSTER tits, Suzanne!"

Suzanne blushed prettily, and murmured, "Oh, they're nothing!"

"Everybody got MONSTER tits," Rumiko observed, looking around at us. I
supposed she was right, come to think of it. "But speciaru Just Pray
Miss. Mos' Monster tits of everybody." She touched my hand gently.

Despite myself, I was beginning to find Rumiko curiously attractive.
She was like something made in delicate porcelain for putting on the
mantelpiece, but her hair was a lush, rich jet-black. If she hadn't
been one of the students, I could have tried to have my way with her.
Besides, and I never thought I would think this way, it made a pleasant
change to find a girl who didn't have a pair of cantaloupes under her
shirt. Rumiko had something under her shirt, but no bigger than apples.

Everyone was drifting away into the sitting room. I took a last look at
Rumiko, and started to leave the hallway as well. Victoria took me by
the arm and held me back.

"Hello, Miss," she said, sweetly.

"Hello, Toria, welcome home. Did you have a nice Christmas?"

"Yes, thank you, Miss."

"And did you get everything you wished for?"

"That's what I wanted to talk about," she said, mysteriously. "It looks
as though somebody else has been doing some wishing around here."

"What do you mean?"

"My sister, and Suzanne, that's what! Honestly, Miss. I go away for a
week, and when I come back, there's my younger sister with tits twice
the size of mine, and my cousin looking like a pedigree dairy
shorthorn!"

"It's hardly MY fault, Toria! I had nothing to do with it."

"Oh, no? Well, you wait until we get back to St Cat's, that's all. I'm
telling Miss Thunderbolt, and you'll be in deep shit."

I felt a sudden chill run down my spine. True, Suzanne's and Pansy's
development were nothing to do with the exploits of the Sexual
Chemistry Group, but there were more than enough examples of
unscheduled breast growth around if Toria decided to point the finger.
"What do you want?" I grated.

"That's better, Miss. I thought you'd see reason. It's simple enough. 
I've still got the biggest breasts in the Third Form, but I have now,
thanks to your carelessness, been overtaken by half the Juniors. I want
bigger ones than Suzanne, and I want them to remain bigger than hers
for the rest of our school career. That's all. Think about it!"

And she spun on her heel and marched off into the sitting room.


Chapter 17:- Ultimatum

It was difficult to avoid Victoria in the sitting room. She kept
glaring at me menacingly. Rumiko was talking to Mother and apparently
arranging something.

"Attention everybody," Mother shouted. "Rumiko wants to take a
photograph of all of us, to send back home. So let's all line up. Shan,
you go in the middle, you're Rumiko's teacher. Megan, that side of
Shan. Tanya the other side. Then the girls in front, sitting on the
floor. That's it. Mother and Daddy and Tanya's sister ranged themselves
around at the back of the group and Rumiko raised her camera.

"Horru right there," she piped, and we all froze with suitably pleasant
expressions. The flash went off, followed in rapid succession by about
twenty more. Dazed and blinded, we staggered about, with green and
purple polygons swimming before our eyes.

"Thank you, Rumiko," said Mother, and Rumiko beamed delightedly.

"Prenny picture for my famiry," she said, switching off her flash and
rewinding the film with an drawn-out whining noise. With quick, expert
fingers, she reloaded and slammed the back of the camera shut like a
girl soldier slapping a new magazine on to a sub machine gun. "Ready!"
she announced, and we all winced and cowered down in case she opened
fire again.

Conversation broke out haltingly, and slowly built to a trickle, then a
flood. I kept myself to myself. How to enlarge Victoria, that was the
question. Obviously, boob-juice. It was no use praying and trusting to
Nature. She wanted to be bigger than Suzanne, and she wanted to stay
that way. The only way was to make her so big that Suzanne would never
catch up. Then, with any luck, she would be content, I could send her
to Peru once and for all and everyone would live happily ever after.
But first, the boob-juice.

I glanced round the room. Smegs would be no help. She would want to
know what I wanted the stuff for, and I would have to tell her. She
wouldn't be at all pleased. Toria and Pansy were the only ones left who
were smaller than Smegs. It wouldn't work, telling her.

That left the girls. In fact, they possibly still had some of the
strawberry boob-juice that had made such a difference to Mona and young
Cassie. I could ask Suzanne for it, threaten her slightly unless she
gave it to me. I began to edge round the room.

Suzanne looked up as I squatted down to speak to her. "A word,
Suzanne."

"Yes, Miss," she said with docility.

I tried to explain, but half-way through, she shook her head. "It's no
good, Mum made us throw it away and wash the bottles out. After we made
Mona and Cassie grow. It's all gone."

Shit and double shit! That only left St Cat's and the lab. But there
were only two nights. Looking around the room, I made sure no-one was
watching, then I slipped out.

Clit answered at the third ring. "Gawd, you again, Miss Gruntwurvy?
Whatcha want this time?"

"'Ang on," she said after I explained briefly. "Right. 'E's slipped out
and gone to the bog. You want me to go into the lab and get what?"

I gave her a list of ingredients and she repeated them slowly,
obviously writing them down. Halfway through, her voice became
intermittent and she started panting. God, the girl was insatiable! She
finished the list at the same time as she reached her climax, although
there was still action going on, probably beneath her.

"Right, I got all that," she said during a lull in the activities. "And
Reggie can bring the stuff down tomorrow mornin', wiv yer new blazers
and stuff, okay?"

"Thanks, Clit, you're an absolute treasure! Is Reggie with you now?"

"Nah, go on! 'E's finished after the lars' time. Christ, e's forty, no
good askin' 'im to perform more than once a week. Nah, this is Eric,
from packin' and despatch!"

"Give him my love," I said, feeling generously disposed to the world at
large.

"Do it yerself," she said, and there was a lot of rustling at the other
end before a gruff voice said, "'ullo?"

"I love you, Eric!" I said.

**********

The stuff arrived next day. I managed to intercept Reggie's van as it
came slowly down the hill on the slippery road, and carried the box
into the house and out to the scullery before anyone realised anything.
There it all was. Half a dozen plastic bottles filled with different
coloured liquids. The bottles weren't labelled, but I supposed Clit had
been pressed for time between her various liaisons. Not to worry, I
thought, I could easily recognise the ingredients from smell once I
started mixing. Quickly, I thrust the bottles out of sight under the
worktop and sauntered casually out into the hallway with the box.

Toria was hanging about in there. I jumped guiltily when I saw her.

"What's the matter, Miss? Did I frighten you?"

"No, I thought you were someone else. I've got Suzanne's new school
uniform," I said, dropping the box on the hall table and taking out an
enormous blazer. On the breast pocket was a gigantic badge, the biggest
I had ever seen, with the St Cat's coat of arms proudly embroidered: a
shield bearing the device of a cat (sable, passant regardant) with
extremely large human breasts, carrying a spray can, a milking machine
and a pair of quite disgracefully soiled panties bearing type A, B, C
and D stains.

Beneath, the motto, Floreat Nubilia, or roughly translated, Let Young
Horny Girls Flourish.

A fine badge, fit to bring a lump to the throat. I swallowed and felt
proud.

"Huh," snorted Toria. "That great cow. You'd better keep one of those
blazers for me, if you can find one big enough, Miss," she sneered. The
phone rang.

"Just get me the phone, would you, Toria, please?"

"Get it yourself. You're not catching me twice with that trick." And
she was gone. Five minutes later, I heard the front door slam and Toria
and Rumiko passed the window, going for a walk. Rumiko kept stopping
every few yards to take more pictures. They turned the corner into the
High Street and disappeared.

At least, I could get on and mix the boob-juice. I took a bundle of
towels and bed-sheets into the scullery and put them on the table. If
anyone came in and found me, I could pretend to be loading the washing
machine. The bottles looked alarmingly similar now I stood them in a
row. They even smelled the same, I realised with rising panic, sniffing
them in turn. They all smelled of strawberries. My head was spinning,
and I felt horny as hell. Nothing unusual there, at least.

Taking a plastic bucket, I tipped a quarter of the first bottle into
it, and added a few drops of the second. A satisfying sizzle came from
the bucket, and it started to bubble. Even with only an inch or two of
the bottom covered, the level was rising aggressively to within a
whisker of the lip of the bucket. It had turned yellow. Little splashes
of something were flying out, and I had to stand well back to keep out
of the way. Bloody stuff!

More slow-downer. Was that this bottle? I slopped in a few drops and
the mixture began to boil furiously. Obviously not that one. The next
bottle calmed it down a bit, and I breathed again. I gave it a cautious
stir with a wooden spoon, and it spun round and round in the bucket in
a lazy fashion. Relieved, I laid the spoon on the table and inspected
the last two bottles. Which one was the boob juice. One was almost
certainly boob, the other one the speeder-upper. I shook the bottles
carefully. No idea.

I picked up the wooden spoon again, only to have it burst into flames
in my hand!

"Oh, you fuckin' bastard," I yelled, hopping around the scullery like
an Olympic torch-bearer. I plunged it into the bucket, and the flames
went out. My heart was thumping away like a sledge hammer.

"That happened to us, as well, Miss!"

Aghast, I whirled round, and saw Suzanne and Pansy watching me from the
doorway.

"You've got the wrong slow-downer, Miss. You should have asked us."
Pansy approached the bucket and gave it a stir. She sniffed it
carefully. "Not bad, Miss. It's about ready for the fuck now."

"Fuck? I'm not making fuck!"

"Yes you are," said Pansy firmly. "That's why the spoon caught fire.
It's fuck that makes the spoon catch fire."

"What did you think you were making, Miss," asked Suzanne.

"Boob-juice, of course." As if it ought to be perfectly obvious.

"Well, we might be able to change it for you," said Pansy, uncertainly.
"But you can never be too sure."

Oh, great, that's all I need.

"Who's it for, Miss?" Suzanne looked at me with her head on one side.
"Is it for Rumiko?"

"Rumiko? Of course not. Why should I want to make Rumiko's boobs
bigger?"

"I thought she might have asked you to, Miss. She's got next to nothing
herself, and she obviously loves yours..." Suzanne smiled sweetly.

"I bet she'd love some boobs, Miss," said Pansy, dribbling something
into the bucket from the fifth bottle. The mixture gave a belch and
coughed up green steam. "Ah," she said, "I recognise that bit. I think
we're on the right track. She added some of the last bottle and a scum
began to form. "That's it!" she said confidently. "Leave it to settle
for ten minutes and you can bottle it. Who is it for, Miss? You didn't
say."

"Oh, didn't I? Never mind."

Pansy and Suzanne pouted and looked sulkily at me. "You could tell us,
Miss. We did mix it for you."

"Oh, all right. It's for Toria."

"Toria!" Suzanne squealed. "You can't give HER bigger tits!"

I didn't see why not, and I told her so, in no uncertain terms.

"You have to leave it settle, Miss, said Pansy again. Better hide it
under the table."

So I did. The bucket fitted beneath the worktop and was invisible from
the doorway. "Must go," I said. "Nature calls." And I shot away to the
toilet.

Ten minutes later, I poured some of the mixture into a spray-bottle and
screwed the cap down tight. I pondered for a moment whether to pour the
bucket away, but thought it would be better to keep it for a day or so
in case of mishaps. I found a lid for the bucket and tucked it away in
its hidey-hole.

**********

"Did you do it, Pan?"

"Yeah. No problem. Toria's boobs won't get any bigger, you'll be all
right. She might get a bit horny, but that'll only last for a couple of
hours. She might not even notice."

"Great. What did Miss do with the rest of it? Did she empty the
bucket?"

"No, she hid it under the bench again. I've kept the six bottles; she
seemed to have forgotten all about them."

**********

Where were the other bottles? The basic ingredients? I had completely
forgotten them in my rush to get to the loo. All through the scullery,
I hunted high and low. The bucket was still there, but no sign of the
six plastic bottles. Mother would want to know why the wooden spoon was
all charred and blackened, so I hid it at the bottom of the rubbish
bin. No sign of the ingredients anywhere. Have to have a word with
Pansy, perhaps she'll know.

**********

Toria and Rumiko were back. I slipped upstairs to the attic and
listened outside their bedroom door. Yes, they were both in there. What
should I do, burst in with my gun blazing?

No, leave it until later, when they're asleep. Then I could slip into
the room and give Toria a blast while she lay in bed.

I slipped back down the stairs and into my room. Plenty of time.
Leaving the spray-bottle on the dressing table, I went downstairs to
mingle with the guests.

**********

The house was in darkness as I skulked along the corridor and up the
stairs to the attic. Past the door to Suzanne's and Pansy's room. There
was a light under Toria's door, and voices from inside.

Shit. They were still on Japanese time! They wouldn't be able to sleep.
As far as Rumiko and Toria were concerned, it wasn't two in the
morning, it was nearly lunchtime. Well, I couldn't hang around out here
until they fell asleep, could I? But it had to be done tonight, or not
at all. Tomorrow - today, I corrected myself - they would be off to
sunny Herefordshire to see Grandma Trudy.

I sat down on the floor to wait, with the bottle by my side. What was
Rumiko going to make of Grandma Trudy? And what about Clarrie! She was
going to be convinced that the average bust measurement of English
women was in the high eighties. In fact, when she arrived at St Cat's,
her opinion wasn't going to be changed very much, either.

The buzz of conversation continued from the room. I could hear Toria's
deeper, husky tones, and Rumiko's musical giggle from time to time.
Time? I held my watch up to the light filtering under the door. Two-
fifteen.

When I next looked, the light was out. Had I missed it being switched
off, or had I been asleep? Pressing an ear to the door, I listened.
Dead silence. They were asleep at last. Not even daring to breathe, I
groped around in the darkness for the spray-bottle, then slowly began
to turn the door handle.

I cursed Mother for hanging such thick curtains in the attic rooms.
It's to keep the heat in, she had told me, it gets very cold up there
in winter. Right now, they kept the dark in, too. I couldn't see an
inch in front of my nose. I knew where the beds were, but had no idea
which girl would be in which.

That was when the thought struck me. Toria WANTED big tits! I could
have knocked on the door earlier on, walked in, and sprayed her all
over her chest. She'd have let me do it.

Now, here I was, feeling my way across the floor on hands and knees,
trying to find which bed was Toria's. Madness.

Here was the first bed. I almost collided with it. The other end was
the head. I sniffed the air like a bloodhound. It smelled of girl.
Which girl?

I crawled across to the other bed, and banged my nose against it.
"Ouch, you bastard!" Tears came to my eyes, of pain and frustration.
Again, I sniffed at the occupant. Was it a little bit fishy? Did that
mean it was Rumiko?

Back to the other bed, and again I bumped into it, this time with my
shoulder. This girl smelled fishy, too. Back again across the room, my
nipples sweeping along the carpet. I kept kneeling on one or other of
the blasted things. It was all I could do to stop crying out and waking
the girls. I sat in the middle of the floor and sobbed into my hands.

Then there was a noise. One girl was snoring! It was the one to my
left. Whichever bed that was. I had crawled around so much in the pitch
black room that I had no idea which bed was which any more, let alone
which girl. The snoring built up to a crescendo. It is surprisingly
difficult to tell if someone is snoring in a Japanese accent. Try it
sometime.

I had more or less decided to have another little cry, when the snoring
stopped, to be replaced by a muttering noise. That was Japanese, no
doubt about it! Go the other way. So I did, and arrived at the other
bed. Then I had to go back to find the bottle. Another approach, and I
found the edge of Toria's bed, then along to the head end. Up on my
knees, and gently, gently, ease back the duvet. Further! Far enough.
Now, get the bottle ready, turn the nozzle so it will spray properly,
squeeze the trigger, and out it comes.

It made a surprising amount of noise in the darkened room. It sounded
like an angry steam engine. I nearly overbalanced backwards. Me!
Overbalancing backwards! But Toria didn't wake, and I tried the trigger
again. This time, I gave her ten seconds, all over where her chest
ought to be. The odour of strawberries wafted out into the room and the
girl stirred in her sleep, then turned over with a grunt so her back
was toward me. Only just in time. Now all I had to do was find the
door.

It took ten minutes of crawling around, and my knees were raw by the
time I located the door and sneaked out into the corridor. There was a
trace of light out here, and I managed to escape, down the stairs, and
back to my room. Within seconds, despite my still fluttering nerves, I
was asleep.


Chapter 18:- There's One Thing I Don't Understand...

I had been asleep no more than about six minutes when I was being
shaken awake.

"Whaddya want? Whozat?"

"It's me," said Smegs. "Get up. It's nine o' clock, and they're leaving
at ten. Your mother wants a hand in the kitchen. I'm going down now,
you come quick, she says!"

Oh you come quick, she says! Thank YOU, Smegs!

I sat up slowly, feeling shattered. Why am I so tired, I thought. Then
it came back to me, with the sore knees and hands, the bruise on my
nose and both sore nipples where they had trailed across the floor,
tripping me up. Well, Toria would have her giant boobies by now. So
that was one less worry. All thanks to boob-spray. And I looked fondly
across at the dressing table at the bottle to which I owed so much.

The bottles.

I looked away, and back again. Was I seeing double? I held up a finger
and counted it. One. Then back at the bottle again. One, two. Oh,
shitting hell.

I sprayed a little of one bottle on to the back of my hand, and sniffed
it. Then I sprayed a little of the other bottle on to the back of my
hand, and sniffed that. Well, okay, so they both smelled of
strawberries. I lay down again, utterly defeated. Which of these two
was the boob juice? What was in the other? Where had it come from? I
didn't need three guesses on that one at least. Blame the girls!

There was a rattling on the door handle, then it burst open. A rather
handsome young man came in, saw me, and gasped, "Darling!"

"Sweetheart, you came," I ejaculated - perhaps prematurely - and we
flung our bodies together in a fervent embrace. There was just time for
me to realise that this was the result of the spray on my hand, this
was obviously love.

Seconds later, I realised it wasn't just love, there was quite a bit of
fuck in it as well! Whoever my partner was, he knew what he was doing.
I knew what he was doing, as well. Then, as suddenly as it had begun,
it ended. The young man withdrew with a slurp and stood up. He
inspected his hair in the dressing table mirror.

"May I?" he enquired politely, and borrowed my hair brush. "Well, thank
you so much, Miss... er..."

"Gruntworthy," I said, offering my hand.

He squeezed it firmly and left, by way of the window.

I leaned out and watched him shinning down the drainpipe. With a brief
wave of his hand, he set off across the snowy fields.

**********

Down in the kitchen, Smegs gripped my arm and steered me to one side.

"Right, what's going on?"

"Ouch! Smegs, that hurts. What do you mean, going on?"

"You know perfectly well. All this skulking around the house in the
middle of the night, sparaying chemicals all over people?"

"How did you know about that?"

"You got out of bed at two in the morning. I woke up, 'cos I was 
feeling horny and thought you might fancy a good licking out, or
something."

"Ooooh, Smegs," I sighed, reaching for her.

"Not NOW, Shan! You got up, and sneaked out. You came back a whole hour
later, with a half-empty bottle."

"And you were still lying there, wanting me. You should have said!"

"Never mind that. What were you up to?"

"I was spraying somebody."

"With what? Love? Fuck? Or tits?"

"Tits. I hope. It didn't turn out quite the way it usually does, and
Pansy helped finish it off."

Smegs nodded. "And who was the victim? Was she, by any chance, up in
the attic?"

I said nothing.

"And did she, perhaps, arrive from Japan two days ago?"

Still nothing.

"And it didn't work, did it?"

"Didn't it?"

"Didn't you even bother checking after you sprayed her to see if it had
worked? It didn't. I've seen her this morning, and she's not humping a
pair of thirty pounders around under her shirt. Your bottle didn't
work."

"Smegs. That's terrible. What am I going to do? I can't just walk up to
her in broad daylight and start spraying her chest, can I?"

"Not really, not in a civilised society. Fortunately, that's what
friends are for. Leave it to me, kid!" she punched my arm, shook her
head and shot out of the room.

"Ouch!" I said.

**********

We were out by the car, as the family loaded their baggage inside. Even
a family seven-seater was a tight squeeze with such women as Tanya and
her sister, not to mention the newly-enlarged Suzanne and Pansy. Toria,
Rumiko and little Dan took up next to no room at all.

"Thanks so much for having us," said Tanya, giving me a kiss.

Her sister thanked Mother. "Let's make it longer next time."

The girls shouted, "See you back at St Cat's, Miss!"

Toria was glowering at me, so I just waved, nervously, as the Espace
gathered speed up the hill and rounded the bend in the road.

"It's all right, babe," whispered Smegs, at my elbow. "No worries. I
did it. It will start working while they're on the road."

"You did? How?"

"Tell you indoors, come on! We'll freeze out here."

We sat on our beds, holding a spray-bottle each.

"I sprayed her in her sleep," I told Smegs. "Just in time. She rolled
over straight away afterwards. And in the morning, there were two
bottles instead of one."

"Well, when you told me what you'd done, when we were down in the
kitchen, I came up and got the other bottle, the full one. I knew they
were still packing their bags upstairs in the attic, so I went up. Then
I just walked in, bold as brass, and did the business."

"I should have done it that way last night. She wanted bigger breasts.
She told me. So why didn't I just say, 'here you are', and give her
some?"

"Maybe you weren't thinking too clearly. It happens. Anyway. It's done,
now. She'll start growing in the car, and by the time they get there,
she'll be busting her shirt."

"How did she take it when you sprayed her?"

"Not badly. When I went in, she was on her own. She was just buttoning
her shirt, so I said, 'hold it, old English custom, spray good luck on
departing house guests', and I gave her ten seconds-worth. It smells
nice, doesn't it? Strawberries."

"You said, 'old English custom'...?"

"It was all right on the spur of the moment, I thought. Quite
original."

"And then you sprayed her chest? Rumiko's chest?"

"Yep! You want a job done, leave it to Smeggsy! Hey, Shan! Don't cry,
baby..."

**********

We worked it out later, what had happened.

I had sprayed a girl. I wasn't really sure which one, although I had
persuaded myself in the dark, that it was Toria. Whatever, it hadn't
worked. Apparently.

Smegs had sprayed Rumiko generously all over her chest with something
she assumed was boob-juice. Rumiko had bowed politely and thanked her
effusively.

I had tried out the contents of both bottles on the back of my hand,
and had received instant service from an unknown lover, whom I was
destined never to see again. Smegs was fascinated by that bit of the
jigsaw. She wanted to try it on herself right away, but I promised her
I would bring her off with my nipples at bedtime and she settled for
that.

So, one of the bottles worked, the other didn't. And as I hadn't grown
tits on the back of my hand, and as neither girl had even noticed a
tingling in her chest, both bottles probably contained fuck, perhaps
one much stronger than the other.

"But there's one thing I can't work out," I asked Smegs, like the
bemused witness in a cheap detective novel. "Where did the second
bottle come from?"

"Obviously, the girls. They were the only ones who knew of the
existence of the bucket, and they were the ones who took the basic
ingredients, for their own nefarious purposes."

"Nefarious, all right," I mused.

"One of them, probably Suzanne, wanted to make sure you didn't grow
Toria, so she made up a special bottle of the stuff, came down to our
room with it, and left it on the dressing table."

"But why didn't she take the original bottle, and swap them over?
Surely, she would realise that I would smell a rat when I found there
were two bottles instead of one."

"The other bottle wasn't there when she brought hers. She left it until
the middle of the night, and crept down to our room, fully meaning to
swap bottles. But you had already taken your bottle up to the attic to
spray Toria. So she left hers in its place and scarpered back to bed."

[Editor's note: Scarpered. Cockney rhyming slang for 'go'. Originally:
Scapa Flow = Go

Hence, the shortened form Scapa, and its past tense, scarpered.

Scapa Flow is a natural harbour in the Orkney Islands to the North of
Scotland, used by the Royal Navy in two World Wars against Germany,
which Chauntaille will not mention for various reasons.]

"What did you say, Shan?"

"Nothing, I thought it was you."

"Right. Anyway, there you are!"

"Just one thing. If I took the original bottle, containing good boob-
spray, and sprayed Toria, or Rumiko, and that bottle was intended to be
replaced with another containing Suzanne's bogus version, the bogus
version is what YOU used to spray Rumiko. So that won't work, either!"

Smegs sat with her face in her hands. Eventually she looked up. "Oh,
Shan, I'm so sorry. After I thought I'd solved everything, I've let you
down."

"At least Rumiko won't grow horrible great big tits," I said gently,
placing an arm round Smegs's shoulders, and pulling her close to me.
"Maybe Toria will forget her threat. At least, we can burn that bridge
when we come to it. All's well that ends well, Smegs!" We embraced,
deeply.

"Aren't you seeing Orson tonight?"

"Not tonight. I felt like turning in early, after last night's
adventures."

"Well, if you're not feeling too adventurous," Smegs purred. "I
wouldn't mind a good session of dove-fucking, whatever that is."

"It might be fun finding out," I conceded.

We settled down to watch the news in a warm glow of anticipation, our
fingers intertwined.

"Isn't that a car like Tanya's sister's?" Smegs observed comfortably.

"Mmm, yes. What are they doing on the news?" We both giggled at the
thought.

"Shit, it is their car, there are the kids, I'd recognise Suzanne's
tits anywhere. Turn the sound up, what's happened?"

"... and finally in this half of the news, a bizarre story from
Worcerstershire. A petrol station attendant is accusing a young
Japanese girl of rape tonight, after an unprovoked attack left him
without his trousers and underpants.

"Twenty-three year old Morgan Gawmliss, who works at a roadside filling
station on the A44, reported that this Renault Espace vehicle, captured
on closed circuit security cameras, stopped to fill up with fourteen
gallons of unleaded shortly before lunch today.

"Two young girls, one of Oriental appearance, came into the shop,
apparently to buy chocolate. Suddenly, and without warning, the
Oriental girl approached him and dealt a single, deadly blow to his
upper arm with the side of her hand. While he remained powerless, she
removed his trousers and underpants, and pleasured herself upon his
rampant manhood.

"The vehicle drove off without paying for the fuel, plus a total of
four Mars bars, three Terry's plain chocolate oranges and two bags of 
Golden Wonder, one of which was apparently ready salted, the other
cheese and onion flavour.

"Mr Gawmliss could remember only that his assailant was of Eastern
appearance, had sleek, jet-black hair and smelled faintly of
strawberries. Police, who are studying a further video which may show
more details of the attacker, are searching for the vehicle in five
counties, and have issued a warning NOT to approach this girl, but to
contact them on this number.

"This is Crofton Pumphouse, for ITN, Worcestershire..."

Smegs switched off.

"Bleedin' hellfire," she summarised the story.

That's the trouble with Sexual Chemistry, I have always found. Its
effects are not always one hundred per cent predictable.

THE END