HEAD GIRL OF ST CAT'S

by Some Sort of Dog



WARNING: This warning is slightly different every time, but it always says 
more or less the same thing. 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.







HEAD GIRL OF ST CAT'S

by Some Sort of Dog





Part I





Chapter 1:- Lord Behold Us With Thy Blessing


"Buster! Buster General. Bristol train!" The Assistant Acting Station Master 
strode up and down the platform, bellowing at the top of his lungs. "Buster 
General. This train for Chippenham, Bath and Bristol Temple Meads. 
Buster!" He meant Borcester, of course.

Doors slammed and the engine roared, made a rude noise and began to 
gather speed.

"Suze! Hang on, wait for me!"

Suzanne stopped and dropped her suitcase on the station platform, looking 
round for whoever had called her. All around her, passengers milled and 
thronged, most of them astoundingly beautiful schoolgirls in school 
uniform. A casual observer might have noted that their skirts were 
absurdly short, revealing endlessly long, tanned legs. The older girls wore 
babyish white socks, the younger ones wore sophisticated stockings, the 
tops clearly visible and revealing more than a glimpse of creamy thigh. 
The girls' blazers bore the huge pocket badge of St Catherine's High School 
for Girls. Fortunately, most of the girls had such large breasts that the 
pocket badge appeared more or less to scale.

As usual, at the end of the Summer holidays, there was no shortage of 
casual observers on the platform of Borcester General station.

Anastasia threaded her way through the crowd and waved again to her 
classmate in the new Second Form. Breathlessly, she waddled down the 
centre of the platform and stopped next to Suzanne, whose eyes were 
practically popping out of her head.

"Hi, Staze. Christ. What happened to your tits?"

"Oh, these? Yeah, they've grown a bit."

"A bit? Those things are fucking ridiculous!" Suzanne looked down at her 
own monster breasts beneath the straining white school blouse. Hers were 
dwarfed by Anastasia's. Totally and utterly dwarfed. Not even in the same 
league.

"Where's Pansy?" Anastasia fell into step beside Suzanne, blushing prettily 
at the compliment. Compliments were rare, coming from Suzanne. 

"She's coming with Victoria. She spent the last week over at Sexy Amy's. 
They're all coming back together."

"Amy's coming back? I thought her Mum had taken her out of school for 
good."

"Amy promised her mother a bigger pair of tits if she'd let her come back. 
She's coming back."

"As easy as that? Amazing, the things women will do to get bigger boobs!" 
Anastasia arrived at the ticket barrier. She pushed her suitcase through 
ahead of her with her foot, then squeezed her breasts into the narrow gap. 
A crush of girls was making ugly noises of protest behind her. She turned 
and stuck her tongue out at them, then passed through the barrier with a 
final heave and a plopping sound. Suzanne followed with considerably 
more ease. Her own bust measurement was little more than eighty inches.

"I'll get a taxi. I suppose you want one of the minibus ones with a sliding 
door?"

"Yes, please!" Anastasia looked slightly ashamed.

"They're best anyway," laughed Suzanne, we can get two little ones in with 
us and save half the fare."

Two comparatively slender Third Formers were waiting by the curb. 
Suzanne took a deep breath and flashed a foot or so of cleavage at the 
driver of the minibus, who screeched to a halt in front of her. 
Magnanimously, Suzanne allowed the two older girls to go ahead of her 
before tossing her own and Anastasia's cases into the back and climbing 
aboard.

"St Cat's, missy?" The driver goggled at Suzanne, then practically creamed 
his pants as Anastasia pushed herself through the wide doorway, brushing 
both sides. She flopped down into the seat and Suzanne slid the door shut.

"Let's go. Home, Barney." And Suzanne carefully undid the top three 
buttons of her blouse, aware that the driver was watching her in the rear 
view mirror. It was perhaps as well that he couldn't see Anastasia, or they 
might never have arrived.


**********

Jeremy was due to call at any moment and pick us up. He had driven his 
Jaguar over to St Cat's earlier in the day, and had come back with the new 
school bus. It would be returning to the school with quite a bus-load. My 
bags were packed, and Mother and Daddy had come out to the front of the 
house, where Corinne and the four boys of her B Team were already 
waiting, their baggage in a little pile.

When she had arrived with her team at Fillamore Deepleigh two weeks 
earlier, I didn't know whether to be glad or sorry at the reduction in her 
breast size. Of course, I was happy for her, in a way. She could now walk 
unaided, although she kept four boys available to carry her breasts when 
she wasn't wearing a bra for any reason. This afternoon, she had her new 
ScatBra on, and she looked staggering. Literally staggering: standing up and 
walking around with her breasts supported so far in front of her was a 
new skill to be learned. Her breasts were light in weight, thanks to FatLite, 
but they still had a lot of momentum once they started moving in any 
direction.

They certainly impressed Daddy. His eyes had been permanently out on 
stalks ever since Corinne had appeared at the back door, with her phalanx 
of almost naked boys. Later, Corinne had explained to me that she had 
wanted to try FatLite on her own without my being there, to avoid 
building up either of our hopes. It had worked like a charm, exactly as 
intended. It was probably the first time it had.

"Here he comes," Daddy said, gazing up the road. "You'll all get in there, it's 
big enough. Even with young Cassie."

It was going to be a tight squeeze, but the baggage went on to the roof 
rack, and the four boys scampered into the back seat, where they kneeled 
to look out of the back window and pull faces at the girls we passed. 
Corinne had the next row all to herself, I had the next, and there would be 
room for young Cassandra on the other seat. But only just, apparently. We 
hadn't seen her, but her sister Baps said the copiously lactating new First 
Former - no age at all - was even bigger than we remembered.

"Bye, Mother, Daddy!"

"Bye, Mrs Gruntworthy, thanks for having me, Mr Gruntworthy!" I found 
myself wondering about Corinne's choice of phrase. If she'd being shagging 
my Daddy, she had certainly kept quiet about it.

Jeremy released the brake and we set off down the hill towards Baps's Girl 
Dairy. Even before we got there, we could see the bulk of Cassandra 
waiting by the gate in her new St Cat's uniform. She was immense. 
Cassandra was a vast girl anyway, bigger than her older sister in every 
direction, three or four inches taller than Baps's 5' 9", but so proportioned 
as to seem almost Amazonian. Not quite Amazonian, though; her hips were 
broad but well-proportioned, but her tummy was perhaps too plump. And 
incredibly, her breasts were far too gigantic for a mere Amazon. We had 
become used to thinking of Shona as vast. Shona would have looked like a 
boy next to Cassie.

Jeremy loaded her suitcase on to the bus, along with several large empty 
plastic containers; then he climbed aboard while Cassandra struggled to fit 
her bulk through the specially wide custom sliding door. She came in, one 
breast at a time, and sat down in the same order.

"Hi, Shan, I suppose I'd better call you Miss Gruntworthy, now. Hi, Miss 
Meadowlark!"

We all waved bye-bye to Baps and her mother, and to the dairy girls who 
had come to the gate, their enormous udders swaying massively beneath 
their T-shirts.

The boys were silent on the back seat, struck dumb with utter disbelief. 
Cassandra, bigger and bustier than any of the dairy girls, was wearing the 
biggest St Cat's white blouse they had ever seen.

"How long does it take to do up all those blouse buttons, Cass?" I asked her.

She blushed prettily. "Ages, Miss. There are fifty six of them. And this bra 
is just about at the end of its adjustment. I'll need a new one straight 
away. I'm huge, Miss!"

"We can see that. You've got your breast pump?"

"Yes, Miss. And the tanker will be calling every morning to collect my milk 
from the school. It's all arranged."

"Good girl!"


**********

"I didn't think they got along all that well together."

Suzanne jerked her head round to Anastasia. She had been several miles 
away in the middle of an erotic fantasy. "What? Who?"

"Pansy and Toria. You said Pansy had gone to stay with Toria at Sex Amy's. 
I thought they hated each other."

"Not hate. Toria's always been jealous of Pansy's boobs. Every time she 
grew some more, Pansy always kept getting bigger. Then when Toria 
nearly caught up, Pan went and got pregnant and grew huge!"

"So why did she want Pansy with them at Amy's?"

"She didn't want her, but my Mum didn't really have room for her at 
home, so she thought it would be nice to get rid of her for a few days. She's 
a bit grotty now she's getting so big. Specially in this hot weather. She 
never stops moaning about carrying that baby around."

"She hasn't had it yet, what's she talking about? She's only six months 
gone. She wants to wait until November before she starts bitching about it. 
It's her own fault, anyway. I didn't get pregnant, and nor did you."

Suzanne bit her lip at Anastasia's last remark. She wouldn't have minded 
the chance to try getting pregnant. Somehow, nobody had even asked her! 
All the boys assumed she was a virgin by choice and respected her wishes. 
She changed the subject.

"Anyway, Toria's a bit bigger now. She got creamed."

"At the St Cat's Grand Open Day? I know."

"Well you know how when Amy creamed her with FatLite? She didn't 
cream her afterwards with plain cream, 'cos her Mum took her away."

"And Toria didn't rub her own boobs afterwards? But she'd have been 
going mad with the Uncontrollable Horniness!"

"She was, but she was learning to live with it. Until she got home to Sexy 
Amy's, then she got creamed the first night when she arrived. She rang us 
up and said what had happened."

The minibus taxi rocked round a corner and swung into the drive of St 
Cat's. They passed girls in ones and twos walking up the drive with their 
bags. The bus had evidently just arrived from town.

"What happened then?"

"Her boobs grew, of course. Lots! But the Uncontrollable Horniness didn't go 
away. She left it too late, and she might have got it permanently, she 
thinks. It comes and goes, but sometimes she says she has to get laid or 
she feels like she's going to burst."

"Burst?"

"Explode! Her boobs get so full, she reckons. She gets horny, and her boobs 
start to get fuller. If she gets fucked, they stay the same size. If not ..."

"Golly! Poor old Toria. How big is she now?"

"She wouldn't say. It depends how much sex she's been getting. Not 
enough, though, apparently, from what she was saying last time."

"Oh, no! Hey, look! There's Toots's car. Her van thing. She can't leave it 
there, can she?"

The van with its sinister darkened windows was pulled up arrogantly in a 
space next to Miss Thunderbolt's parking space. Toots's driver, Nigel, was 
unloading luggage endlessly from the back door.

"Christ, Staze. Look at her. Is that the official St Cat's uniform or what?"

"It's the right colours and everything, but the blouse. It's silk!"

"And the skirt. What there is of it. It's velvet."

Tessa 'Toots' Lashmore, the extravagantly-developed sex-slave dealer and 
slut, wore a skirt by Young Versace and a blouse by a much older Versace.

The minibus stopped and the driver turned round to check his meter. 
"Three pound fifty, Missy."

"One fifty each from you two," Suzanne demanded from the silent Third 
Formers in the back.

"But that means we're paying for nearly the whole taxi," one of the girls 
stammered timidly.

"I'm a generous tipper," smiled Suzanne sweetly. "You can pay the man the 
whole lot if you like ..."

The girls paid up, good as gold, and climbed out.

"Usual discount, Barney?" Suzanne winked at the driver.

"Yeah!"

Anastasia looked on in horror as the driver ran his hand across the front of 
Suzanne's blouse. After five seconds, she stepped back a pace. "There you 
go," she said, handing him the three pounds from the back seat passengers. 
"See you next time."

The taxi lurched off, as if driven by a man with an unruly hard-on.

"C'mon, Staze. Let's give young Tootsie a hand moving in. We can see what 
clothes she's got."


**********

Jeremy wheeled the school minibus into the drive. The girls looked up at 
us as we drove past them. In the back, Corinne's boys jeered and jostled 
out of the window. Appallingly lewd remarks of a sexist nature were 
passed back and forth. I elected to ignore them.

"Moggie's here already," said Corinne. The BMW was parked beside a large 
minibus type of vehicle with sinister darkened windows.

"Isn't that Toots's Nigel's van?" I asked Jeremy. "Surely he can't park it 
there?"

"Looks like he has." Jeremy pulled up on the other side of the van. A group 
of girls stood idly nearby, watching Nigel as he washed the windows with a 
bucket of water and a chamois leather. He appeared to be exchanging 
sexual banter with them.

"Aren't those Fourth Formers?" Corinne said disapprovingly.

"Fifths this year. Near enough legal, I suppose," I sighed with resignation. 
One didn't like to be repressive to the girls.

Corinne snorted her displeasure. "Team!" she ordered, and her four boys 
sat bolt upright on their seats, their eyes glazed and fixed on the horizon. 
"Team, dis-miss. Go and join the rest of your colleagues. Two of you report 
to me at six pm for standby duty. Off you go!" The boys scampered off, 
Nigel's admirers swapping disgracefully explicit remarks with them as 
they passed. A certain amount of mutual groping went on, I noticed with 
some surprise.

"I don't know how they can go away for seven weeks and yet be so totally 
horny when they get back," I said, with a surge of St Cat's pride. "Those 
girls must have been screwed rotten all holiday and they're still panting 
after Nigel and your boob carriers. Frothing! Look at them."

Corinne looked. Two of the girls had followed the boys from the breast 
carrying team, stroking their oiled bodies suggestively and pressing their 
full breasts against them in what looked sadly like attempts at seduction. 
One girl attempted to drag a boy off into the bushes. He shook her free 
from his wrist, but appeared to make some kind of arrangement for later, 
as they parted with a briefly empassioned embrace and a kiss wet enough 
to be heard from a distance of some thirty yards.

"I will discipline those boys later," vowed Corinne, shaking her head. "I 
can't think what makes them so excited."

Could it be a life which involved carrying a pair of the biggest breasts in 
the entire world on their shoulders, I wondered. It must have some effect 
on impressionable young lads.

"Ah, Chauntaille, how good to see you. And Corinne." Moggie appeared, 
dressed somewhat inappropriately for a headmistress of a respected Girls' 
High School. She was barefoot, and bare-legged, her cellulite thighs 
eventually disappearing into a pair of shocking pink shorts. Her white 
cotton top revealed much of the undersides of her obviously unsupported 
breasts and her nipples suggested either a state of extreme arousal or a 
sudden change in ambient temperature. Her baseball cap faced backwards. 
I turned it round for her. One does not want one's headmistress looking too 
ridiculous in public. She did not thank me. "Whose is this vehicle?"

"I think it belongs to Toots, Miss Thunderbolt," I replied with all due 
respect. "Tessa Lashmore, First Form."

"Have it moved, please. It is unsightly. Unbefitting. Not at all the thing for a 
respected Girls' High School. If she must have it on the site ... do her 
parents have money ...?"

"Not a lot, but Toots herself has an independent source of income. She is 
prominent in the field of International Child Prostitution and Sex Slavery."

"I see. In that case, she may park it next to the caretaker's shed. Order 
nine cubic metres of ballast and lay down an additional parking space for 
it, Jeremy!"

"Yes, Miss Thunderbolt," Jeremy tugged his forelock while managing to 
wink at me. I recalled some of our more recent sexual exploits over the 
holiday and my loins melted almost audibly.

"Chauntaille, please," said Moggie sternly. "Do please leave Mr Suggs's 
genitalia alone!"

I removed it from my mouth, apologised and stood up, while Jeremy 
zipped himself up and adjusted his dress.

"Chauntaille, your hips, thighs, waist and bottom are all becoming 
shockingly large! Ask Labia to make an appointment with me later in the 
week. Meanwhile, we will all meet tomorrow morning, first thing. Perhaps 
you will be so kind as to pass the word to Miss Mountains when she 
arrives. I have to go out right now." She opened the door of the BMW and 
slid behind the wheel.

"Where's she off to?" Corinne muttered under her breath. "Do you think 
anyone told her it's fancy dress?"

The driver's window whispered down and Moggie poked her face out 
aggressively.

"I am seeing a friend, if anyone asks. A member of the Board of Governors. 
I shall return." The window slid up and the car rocketed away up the 
drive, scattering girls in all directions.





Chapter 2:- Quite Like Old Times


"Gosh, Pansy, are you allowed to wear preggers yet? You're only six 
months!"

"Suze, who is going to stop me?" said her cousin simply. She tugged the 
clinging dress into place over her incredible bosom. "How does it look?"

"Rude!"

The St Cat's maternity wear, known to the girls as 'preggers', was a tasteful 
design for pregnant girls. It came in three models, for Juniors, Middle 
school girls and Seniors. The only differences were in the colour of the 
trim: the collar facings of the Junior maternity dress were, perhaps 
appropriately, virginal white. All the dresses were available in sizes up to 
100 inches ex-stock with larger sizes on request. Pansy's dress was a stock 
size, but only just.

"Can't you do something about your nipples?" Suzanne demanded.

"What about them?" Pansy asked peevishly. "You know I can't see them 
now."

"They're about this long, that's what!" Suzanne held her thumb and index 
finger as far apart as they would go.

Pansy looked pleased despite herself. "Golly, are they?" She lowered her 
voice. "They're really itchy! Every time anything just brushes against them, 
I want to get fucked."

"I'd have thought you'd had enough of that by now, the way you went on 
over the holidays. There isn't a boy left worth having in the village now. 
You've had them all."

"Just because they didn't want you. You ought to try it, cousin! It's great. 
They all say I'm the best fuck they've ever had," Pansy took a deep breath 
and stroked her hands down her sides.

"You're the only one they've had. You specialise in virgins, that's why."

"Not all of them. I had Duncan Forsyte, and Simon Corrigan and Brad 
Shuster and Kevin Bradstreet and Wayne Oliphant and ..."

"Oh, fuck off!" Suzanne snapped. "I don't want to know."

"And Billy Stanley. I'd nearly finished anyway. The rest were virgins. Toria 
had them as well. When she had the Uncontrollable Horniness. She's still 
got it, about once a week, so I don't know what she's going to do."

"How big are her tits now?" Suzanne asked.

"Dunno, I haven't seen her today!"

"Oh, come on, Pan! They don't grow every day."

"No, but she'd got the Uncontrollable Horniness when she got out of bed, 
and if she hadn't managed to have a boy in the toilet on the train, she'd 
have been six inches bigger than she was when we started out this 
morning. By the time we got on the bus, she was moaning and groaning 
again. She's miles bigger than me now, anyway. But she is three years 
older, so it's reasonable enough."

"She's fourteen, that's all!"

"That won't stop her being chosen as Head Girl, if she's got the biggest tits 
in the school."

"Who said that?"

"I heard some of the Seniors talking about it on the bus. They said there 
was a rumour about Head Girl going to the biggest tits, whether she's in the 
Sixth Form or the Juniors. They sounded pissed off about the idea."

"Well, Cassandra will get it, then. She's got the biggest tits in the world."

"No, the Seniors were saying it doesn't count if you're fat. Cassandra's huge, 
but she's huge all over. And I wouldn't count," Pansy said modestly, "if I 
was biggest, 'cos I'm pregnant. It's for slim girls, like Toria is now."

"And Anastasia," said Suzanne.

"Toria's bigger than her," Pansy said scornfully.

"Don't be too sure. She's loads bigger than she was in July. You'd think 
she'd been sniffing chemicals again. Honest, she is vast!"

"Where is she?"

"In her room up next to Miss Gruntworthy."

"They're letting her stay in there?"

"They spent all that money on new doors, didn't they? And if she's going to 
be Head Girl, why shouldn't she stay up there?"

"Head Girl? Anastasia? They wouldn't dare. She's only a kid."

"She's older than you. Older than me!"

"You know what I mean. She's in the Seconds! You can't be Head Girl in the 
Seconds. Can you?"

"You said she could. You said that's what the Seniors were saying on the 
bus. It's up to Miss Thunderbolt. If she says Anastasia is Head Girl, she's 
Head Girl."

"Only if she's bigger than our Toria."

"We'll have to measure them then. Side by side. And Staze is still growing. 
Naturally, at what looks like several inches every week!"

"No!"

"I told you she was vast. And she's getting vaster every day."

"Well we can make sure Toria gets bigger. Without chemical enhancement. 
All we have to do is to stop her getting fucked!"

"Oh yeah? How are you going to do that? With a cork? Where will you find 
a cork that size?"

"There's no need to be rude, Suzanne. Come and see her, anyway. See for 
yourself whether she's the next Head Girl." 


**********

"Home sweet home! Our own little bed, Cee!"

Corinne lay back on the bed and we kissed tenderly. It seemed like the 
first time for simply ages.

"It's great to be back, Shannie. I'm sorry about everything lately."

"What do you mean?"

"I've been horrible and cold and unfeeling. I've felt really strange. But it 
seems to be going off now we're back here. Together again, you and me."

"You and me, Cee! Sounds good." She responded to my kiss with her tongue. 
Quite like old times.

"Mmmmmmmm!"

There was a gentle knock on the kitchen door.

"Quite like old times. Anastasia's back. Come in, Staze!"

The kitchen door opened. "I can't come in, Miss," Anastasia said in a 
strained voice. My boobs won't come through the doorway. But if you're 
making coffee, I'll have one."

I crawled off the bed and went over to the kitchen door, aware of Corinne 
watching my insanely huge rear end in my tight jeans. Anastasia appeared 
to have opened the door on our side with a stick. She was still in her room. 
I went through into the kitchen area and peered through her door. She was 
shrouded in an enormous bathrobe, but there was no doubt about it: 
Anastasia had grown immensely in the last seven weeks. Even before I 
said a word, she blushed prettily.

"I'm colossal, Miss, I know! I'm growing an inch a day. The doctor says 
there's nothing they can do until I reach eighteen, then they'll cut them off 
for me. Mummy told them thank you."

"An inch a ... then that means ..."

"Yes, Miss. About 140 inches when I left home. 140-22-33, Miss."

"But an inch a day means that by the time you are eighteen, you will be ..."

"About sixty-five yards, Miss. But don't worry, it will probably stop before 
then!"

"Oh, good. I was beginning to worry. Coffee, then?"

"Four sugars, please, Miss!"

"Four? Should you perhaps be thinking about your diet, Anastasia, in view 
of your present rate of development?"

"I need the energy, Miss. I'm a growing girl, you know!"


**********

It was quite like old times. Miss Rhys ap Llewelyn Owen sat on the left, 
then Corinne, then me - overflowing the sides of my chair - then Smegs. So 
far, nobody had touched anyone else's private parts, but there was plenty 
of time. Moggie was in no mood to trifle. She called the meeting to order. 
Once more, I was tempted to get up and turn her baseball cap the right 
way round, but her expression put me off.

"Lots to do this morning," she barked. "I have to get away in ten minutes." 
She looked at her watch. "Nine minutes." She was wearing a T-shirt bearing 
the legend 'I can JUST do it' and a pair of gold metallic pedal-pushers. 
Someone must have told her about the cellulite thighs. She couldn't see 
them herself, of course. Her new boyfriend must be a younger type person.

"Head Girl!" Moggie said suddenly, startling us all. "We need a new one. I 
proposed last year that we have a new system for determining the Head 
Girl of St Cat's. I am going to put this into effect. It will be the girl with the 
biggest bust in the school ..." she held up a hand for silence "... but not a fat 
girl. Fat girls such as Shona will be ruled out. Cassandra, despite being no 
age at all and having what are arguably the Biggest Breasts Ever in the 
Whole Wide World, will also be ruled out. Chauntaille!"

"Yes, Miss Thunderbolt!"

"Measure the candidates. Girls like the Countess Langsdorf, Anna-Maria 
Oxberry, even young Anastasia, it will not matter which class they are in, if 
they qualify, they will enter into contention. Use your Junior Statistics 
Group to measure the contenders ..."

"No need to, Miss. We already know the biggest girl in the school."

"You do?"

"Yes, Miss. She is already 140 inches, in fact, 142 by this afternoon, and 
growing an inch a day. St Cat's new Head Girl, Anastasia!"

Smegs had her hand up for attention. "Begging your pardon, Miss 
Thunderbolt," she said, "but Anastasia is not the biggest. Another girl is 
larger, and likely to gain a further six inches at a moment's notice. The new 
Head Girl of St Cat's, Victoria!"

"Toria?"

"Yes. She is in a state of balance between runaway breast expansion and 
permanent Uncontrollable Horniness. As soon as the fullness comes on, 
which it does every week, she must get laid at once or grow six inches. I 
don't know how big she is right now, but I would imagine well in excess of 
150 inches!"

Moggie stared from one to another of us, shaking her head.

"Find the winner, Chauntaille. Present her with the Scarlet Sash to tie 
round her waist. This is why we cannot have a fat girl as Head Girl. The 
Scarlet Sash is only a certain length."

"But what if the other girl overtakes her rival?" Corinne asked.

"The Sash will be handed over. The Head Girl will be the one with the 
largest breasts. There can be no compromise. Do it!"

And she was off, out the door and halfway down the stairs leaving only a 
wet patch on the seat of her chair to indicate where she had been.

"Well, there we are. A contest." I turned to Smegs. "Can you get Victoria to 
Clit's workshop by four o' clock?"

"Of course, although you will find she is far bigger than anyone else ..."

"And Corinne, any other candidates?"

"Yes, Shan. Girls like Anna-Maria Oxberry."

"And I shall bring Anastasia. Dress will be optional. At four o' clock, then, 
ladies."


**********

"Hi, Cee! On your own? Where's Anna-Maria and the Countess?"

"The Countess crashed her barrow. She's at the paintshop. But she's not big 
enough. She says she's no more than 125 inches, so she's out of it. And you 
can't have Anna-Maria, she's pregnant?"

"Pregnant? By how much?"

"She didn't show before the holidays because she was so huge up top. But 
she's eight months. She must have fallen at the choir contest when she first 
ballooned."

"Ballooned?"

"Sorry. When she first grew."

"I should think so. Ballooned, indeed. Not the sort of word we need to use 
round here, Cee!"

"Sorry, Shannie!" Corinne hung her head in deepest shame. "I'm so terribly 
sorry. It ... it just slipped out. I really am so awfully sorry."

"All right. Don't let it happen again, that's all."

"No, Shan."

Anastasia had been standing quietly by my side like a well-trained dog. At 
last she spoke.

"Do I stand a chance, Miss?"

"Of course you do. And you're growing an inch a day. Victoria can't match 
that."

"She grows six inches each time she doesn't get shagged, though, Miss. 
That's serious breast growth."

"You'll be fine, Anastasia. Hang in there."

"I'm hanging, Miss. It's what I do best!"

"Here she comes," said Corinne, mournfully.

Smegs appeared, strangely leading Victoria by the hand.

"All ready?" she shouted while she was still some distance away.

"We're ready!" I said. "Bring her on."

Smegs led her candidate up to us. I wouldn't like to choose between them. 
They were both fantastically endowed. Victoria was taller and also 
devastatingly beautiful, although I knew that Anastasia without her 
glasses had a haunting, elfin fragility which could cause strong boys to 
ejaculate in their pants. And this was not a beauty contest, it was all about 
sheer bust size. Not even breast size. Moggie had decreed that the biggest 
bust would win. This gave Victoria the advantage, as her back was 
undoubtedly broader than Anastasia's. On the other hand, Anastasia did 
have bigger breasts, although hers tended to dangle lower. Victoria, 
despite her vast increase in size, had retained much of her perkiness. She 
came to a halt inches from Anastasia, her nipples bouncing and jiggling.

The two girls manoeuvred around each other so that they were almost 
back to back, then, turning, they looked over their shoulders and brought 
their faces closer together until their noses almost touched. They sneered a 
challenge. It was not a pretty sight, if you ignored their breasts pointing in 
opposite directions and standing out fully four feet clear of their chests 
inside their tortured blouses.

"That's enough, girls, break it up," I said, dragging Anastasia away. She 
snarled like a dog. Smegs did the same with Victoria. If we let go of them, 
they would surely fight to the death like pit bull terriers.

Corinne knocked on the door and it opened a few inches. Clit looked out, 
saw the two girls and flung it wide.

"Only two, Miz Gruntwurvy? They said there'd be at least four."

"Just these two. These are the biggest girls in the school."

"Where are your Junior Statistics Group, Miz Gruntwurvy? Late again?"

"They're coming. Only two of them."

"There's only one of me," said Clit. "Flaps 'as got the runs. She sends 'er 
love."

"How thoughtful," I said. "So kind."

Suzanne and Pansy came panting in. "Sorry we're late, Miss," Suzanne said. 
"Pansy had some of her hot flushes."

There are things I would rather not know. "You shouldn't make her run, 
Suzanne, not in her condition."

"Sorry, Miss," said Suzanne happily and prodded Pansy in the ribs.

"Ouch, you little shit!" 

"Girls, please. Did you bring your tape measures?"

Suzanne produced hers. "I'm taking notes," said Pansy. "We're all ready."

"Then we'll begin," I said. "Tops and bras off, please," I commanded, and 
there were quick feminine rustlings.

"Only Victoria and Anastasia," I explained, "Not the rest of you."

Smegs looked crestfallen. So did Corinne, Clit, Suzanne and Pansy. They all 
looked at each other nakedly and reached unwillingly for their clothes. 
"Not now. Get dressed afterwards," I said, and everyone cheered up. After 
all, I certainly didn't want to be the only topless one apart from the Head 
Girl contestants.

"Here we go then. You first, Anastasia!"





Chapter 3:- The Scarlet Sash


I flopped on to the bed.

"Cee, we are not going through that again," I groaned.

"We'll have to. Anastasia is growing an inch a day at the moment. You 
know what that means?"

"I think so."

"You know so. If she carries on growing at that rate until Christmas, she 
will have a 250-inch bust. That is not in itself good news, Shannie."

"No, Cee."

"But Toria is not going to match that, is she!"

"No, Cee!"

"Even if Toria carries on growing six inches each time she comes on horny 
every week, Anastasia is still going to be bigger than her."

"But Toria is 150 inches now. If she carries on at that rate, Anastasia won't 
catch her up until after we've broken up for Christmas. She'll be 
heartbroken. Listen to her now ..."

We could hear Anastasia sobbing in her room. Beaten by seven whole 
inches! Since the beginning of the new term, for a whole day, Anastasia 
had set her heart on becoming the new Head Girl of St Cat's. Now her hopes 
and dreams had been dashed by that appalling bitch, Victoria. By a margin 
of seven whole inches.

"She'll win it back, Shan. Victoria will only stay ahead as long as she 
continues to grow six inches every time she comes on horny every week. 
She has got to keep that up week after week. If she stops for one week, 
Anastasia will catch her and become Head Girl."

"Stops?"

"Can you see Victoria staying celibate for the rest of this term? Sexy Amy 
says she is climbing the walls for a fuck every week. The second she gives 
way and receives a boy unto her inner self, her boobs will stop growing. 
It's a modern day fairy tale. I know which one my money's on!"

"I suppose so. Shall I tell her?"

"Not now. Let her cry herself to sleep. She'll feel better in the morning."


**********

"You cheated, Pansy, you are a rotten stinking cheat."

"I am not!" Pansy directed a glare at her cousin. "Just because your 
Anastasia is smaller than our Toria, you accuse me of cheating."

"You tied a knot in the tape when it was Victoria's turn. No wonder she 
was seven inches bigger."

"You were the one doing the measuring. I just wrote the numbers down. 
You said 'bust: one hundred and fifty inches,' and I wrote it down. You 
couldn't even cheat when you had the chance."

"Because I'm honest. We're not all dirty cheats like you ..."

The door slammed back on its hinges and banged against the wall.

"Attention! Stand to attention, SHUT UP!!!"

Heels clicked on the polished floor and a tall, commanding figure strode 
into the room. It teetered on the highest heels ever seen, with dark, 
seamed stockings, endless legs leading to a tight, tight black skirt and a 
white shirt crammed to the bursting point with monumentally huge 
breasts. The shirt was buttoned to the neck, and topped with a black bow 
tie. The figure carried a riding crop which it rhythmically smacked into the 
palm of one hand. On its head it wore a top hat. And around its waist was a 
broad Scarlet Sash.

"Toria!" gasped Pansy.

"SHUT UP! Go to bed at once! It is half past nine. From now on, all, repeat 
all, Junior girls are to be in bed by nine pm, I repeat, nine pm without, 
repeat without fail do you understand?" She thrust her face into Pansy's 
personal space and tapped her on the head with the riding crop. "Do you?"

"Yes, Toria!"

"Yes, WHAT?"

"Toria. You are my big sister."

"You shall address me as STAFF!"

"As what?" Suzanne could not believe what she was hearing.

Victoria whirled round on her. "Who are YOU, Worm?"

"I'm your cousin Suzanne, remember me?" said Suzanne sweetly.

"Remember me, STAFF! You call me STAFF!"

"Staff's a stupid name," said Pansy. "Why do you want to be called ..."

"SHUT UP! And call me STAFF!"

"If we shut up," Suzanne pointed out, "we can't call you anything, let alone 
a daft name like Staff. Can we?"

"SHUT UP! I am going to leave this dormitory now. I shall return in three 
minutes and I will expect to find all of you in bed or there will be MASS 
detentions. MASS!" 

She stormed out, whacking at the notice board with her crop as she passed. 
A shower of Important Notices To Girls fluttered to the floor.

"And clean up this MESS!"


**********

"MISS!"

I sat up in bed, bolt upright. Corinne stirred in her sleep.

"Lie down, Shannie," she complained. "And pick up the bed covers off the 
floor."

"Something woke me up."

"Miss!"

"I thought so, it's Anastasia. What's the matter with the poor girl." I 
bounded out of bed and made for the kitchen. I went into her room 
without knocking. "What's the matter, darling? Did you have a horrid 
dream?" I sat on the edge of her bed and she clung to me. She had sat 
upright and there wasn't a great deal of room on the bed for me to sit, with 
her breasts occupying the whole of the available space.

"I've stopped growing, Miss!"

"You what?" I looked at her breasts. It was difficult to tell if they were still 
growing or not. "How do you know?"

"The tingling has stopped. They've been tingling all the time since ... oh, 
months. I'd got used to it. It felt quite nice, actually, in my nipples and 
down there, too." She pointed in the general direction of down there, the 
centre of her girlhood.

I decided it was better not to think of such things as Anastasia's girlhood. 
"Are they tingling now?"

"No. I woke up and it had stopped. There's just nothing now."

"How does that feel?" I ran my hands across the expanse of her nearer 
breast, running both hands slowly down toward the nipple, ending up with 
most of the areola cupped in one palm and the nipple between three 
fingers and the thumb of the other hand.

She looked at me blankly. "Nothing. At least, it feels nice, Miss. In fact, it 
feels lovely and warm and comforting, and I would be most grateful if you 
would do the other one as well, Miss. And if you could spare the time, if 
you could touch me down there as well ..."

"Down ... here?"

"Oooh, yes, Miss. Thank you!"

"It was nothing, Anastasia. Any time." I wiped her juices from my lips on 
the corner of my nightdress.

"But no tingle, Miss. I've stopped growing. I'm stuck at a hundred and 
forty-three inches, Miss."

"Well, it's not a bad size, Anastasia. You're vastly bigger even than me. Now 
that Miss Meadowlark has reduced herself, you're not far off being as big 
as her."

"But Toria's bigger, Miss. And she'll be Head Girl. I wanted to be Head Girl. 
I would have been good at it, Miss." She flung her arms around me and I 
hugged her.

It was while I was comforting her, having dried her tears and covered her 
face with burning kisses, that Corinne appeared at the door. Since Corinne 
couldn't get through the kitchen doors, she'd had to get up out of bed, go 
out of the door into the corridor, along to the next door and in that way.

"Shan, what in the wide, wide world are you doing with that girl?"

"Nothing!" I sat up and removed a curly hair from my tongue. Modestly, 
Anastasia covered herself with her bed covers and removed a curly hair 
from between her teeth. She took her glasses from the bedroom table and 
put them on. They steamed up immediately.

"Nothing? In what is commonly known as the sixty-nine position? You get 
up in the middle of the night and start eating a Junior girl's private parts 
..."

"Cee, it's not what it seems."

"Oh, no? What subtleties have I missed here? Correct me if I'm wrong, but 
you were lying on top of her, with your face in her snatch, while she had 
her whole head inside yours?"

"Oooh, Miss Meadowlark, I didn't. I was only kissing her front bottom. And 
her dangle."

Corinne stopped in her tracks. "Her what ...?"

"Her dangle, Miss. That bit that dangles down there. It's for sucking and it 
feels nice."

"Oh, is it? You were sucking each other's dangles, Shan."

"Anastasia's doesn't dangle, Cee. It's just a little nubbin, look ..."

"I don't WANT to look. It's two in the morning. Come back to bed."

"Oh, all right. Spoilsport!" I stood up, my knees wobbling, then bent and 
exchanged an anchovy flavoured goodnight kiss with Anastasia. "We'll talk 
about it in the morning, darling. With any luck, you'll have started growing 
again by then. And if you've really stopped, we can FatLite you again and 
make you twice as big as you are now. Sweet dreams, darling!"

Corinne's face registered horror. "FatLite? Are you out of your tiny mind?"

"I can explain," I said by way of explanation, and to spite Corinne, I went 
back through the kitchen so I was in bed by the time she had made her 
way around the long way.


**********

"Everybody up. Out of bed!"

Victoria strode down the centre aisle of the dorm, slapping her riding crop 
down on the beds of any girls foolhardy enough still to be asleep.

"You, Pansy. Into the loo and wash your front bottom. Suzanne, get up and 
go to the toilet before you pollute the atmosphere even more. Shona, milk 
yourself and bring me a glass in my room in three minutes. Now you lot! 
GET UP!"

A chorus of mumbles greeted her.

"What? WHAT?" Victoria shrieked.

"Yes, Staff! Good morning, Staff."

"That's better. Now move!"

The door slammed behind her and the notice board crashed to the floor in 
the sudden silence.

"We have to get rid of her," said Suzanne grimly. 

Pansy looked glum. The idea of having her big sister as the new Head Girl 
wasn't working out at all the way she had hoped.

"Come to the bogs," said Suzanne, dragging her cousin out by the wrist. 
"You can talk to me while I have a shit."


**********

"That's the plan. What do you think?"

"How do we give it to her?" Pansy wrinkled her nose as Suzanne emerged 
from the toilet cubicle.

"Let's get out of here," said Suzanne, fanning the air with both hands, "it 
must have been something I've been eating." She led Pansy out into the 
corridor. "Jeez, who'd have thought one little girl could stink a whole room 
out like that. Now, where were we? Easy," she said. "She has a glass of 
Shona-milk every morning when she wakes us up. Probably another at 
night before she goes to sleep. We can slip something in her glass."

"But Shona wouldn't let us mix anything with her milk. She'd be scared of 
Toria telling on her."

Suzanne thought about it for a moment.

"We needn't put anything in her milk. We'll put something in Shona. If we 
make some special sort of Shrink and give it to Shona, Toria will drink her 
milk and her boobs will shrink. Then Anastasia will be Head Girl. Simple!"

"Special sort of Shrink? But there's no such stuff. We'd have to invent it. 
And if we do, Shona will shrink, too."

"She won't mind. She's always complaining that she's too heavy."

"What if she shrinks and stops giving milk?"

"Why don't you think of something constructive instead of being negative 
the whole time? We only need to give Shona a little bit of the special 
Shrink. Just enough to shrink her a little bit. Toria will have a glass of 
ShrinkMilk twice a day. She'll shrink herself in no time. She's only seven 
inches bigger than Staze. If we don't even manage to shrink Toria, but just 
stop her growing for a week, Staze will be bigger than her again. A week, 
Pan, that's all!"

"A whole week, Suze!"

"All right. Let's make it a bit quicker. We'll make the Shona-shrink a little 
bit stronger, all right?"

"Suzanne. Please be careful this time. Shona's still my friend."

"When was I never not careful, Pan?"





Part II





Chapter 4:- A Cup Of Milk


"Cassandra. We want to borrow some of your milk," Suzanne wheedled, 
smiling engagingly and sickeningly up at the younger girl. "It's for a special 
project."

"But I'm not allowed. Not even to let you borrow. I'm under contract, you 
see. To my sister's Girl-dairy."

"Oh, come on. We only want a little drop. About a pint. We'll pay you back."

"A pint's a lot. I know I give loads more than that every day, but they 
measure it very carefully. How can you pay me back, anyway?"

"You can have some of mine when I start feeding," Pansy offered.

"That's ages. Anyway, you'll need all yours for the baby."

"We'll swap a pint of yours for a bottle of cow, then."

"Cow's no good. I can't give them cow. They can tell the difference."

"We'll give you some of Shona's, then, if it has to be girl." Desperately, 
Suzanne shook Cassandra's big arm and her breasts swayed like the udders 
of cows on their way to the milking shed. Quite a lot bigger than a cow's 
udder but similar in most other ways. "Please, Cass. We're your bestest 
friends."

"What's it for?" Cassandra asked suspiciously. "If you can get some of 
Shona's, why can't you just use hers instead of mine?"

"Shona's a misery-guts. It's like getting blood out of a stone, asking her for 
anything. Anyway, it's, just for a chemistry project." Suzanne waved her 
hand around airily. "You know. To do with sex and stuff."

"What's milk got to do with sex?" Cassandra looked puzzled.

"Everything," said Pansy informatively. "You'll learn."

"Why don't you have a word with Toots?" Cassandra said. "She's been going 
round seeing all the milking girls in the school since she arrived. She even 
tried to sign me up. But she says she's got forty or so."

"Forty what? Forty girls giving milk? What's Toots going to do with them?"

"Milk them, I imagine. And sell it. It's good stuff, girl-milk. Far better than 
cow. None of the health risks. Contains no phthalates, whatever they are. 
See her. She'll get you a pint."

"But she'd want to know what it was for."

"So would I, Suzanne. You'd have to tell me. It's my milk." 

Suzanne considered for a moment. "If we tell you, will you give us some? 
Just half a pint will do. Go on!"

"Half a pint? No more?"

"Yeah!"

Cassandra thought for a few seconds, then began to fumble with her shirt, 
tugging it out from where it was tucked into her skirt. A colossal flame 
orange bra cup, five times as big as anything the cousins had ever seen, 
appeared, hanging way below the level of where Cassandra's waist 
presumably would have been, if she had one. She snapped open a catch 
and lowered her nipple into view. It was an inch thick and fully two inches 
long. Suzanne and Pansy drew in their breath sharply. Cassandra had some 
really serious breasts. Truly industrial breasts. You didn't mess with 
breasts like these.

She was doing something out of sight, and to the girls' amazement, a drop 
of milk appeared almost instantly, trickled down the nipple and splashed 
on the floor.

"We won't need the pump for this little drop," said Cassandra. "Give me 
that mug."

"No need," said Pansy, "do it straight in here." She produced a plastic bottle 
from inside her cleavage. Most of the larger-breasted St Cat's girls used 
their cleavage as an extra pocket. It was so convenient and it held far more 
than a purse.

They watched as Cassandra directed her thick nipple into the neck of the 
bottle. It only just fitted, but once it was in there, its unusual length kept it 
in place. The bottle began to fill and the cousins' eyes boggled at the speed 
of the operation. Within seconds, Cassandra whipped her spurting udder 
out of the bottle and handed the brimming container to Pansy without a 
word. Immediately, she opened her wardrobe and produced her heavy 
duty industrial girl-milking apparatus. She connected herself efficiently 
and sat down on the edge of her bed as the equipment throbbed into 
action.

"Okay?" she said, with an involuntary little shudder.

"It's still warm," said Pansy wonderingly, shaking the bottle. It frothed 
slightly. "Thanks, Cass!"

"You still haven't told me what it was for."

"It's for Anastasia. You know? That big girl in our class with glasses."

"Oh, yeah. She's gigantic for a skinny girl. Hers must be twice as big as 
yours, Suze!"

"More than that," Pansy gloated. "More like three times as big!"

"So what!" Suzanne snarled. She seemed sensitive about it for some reason. 
She blushed. "Anyway, it's for her. A sort of love potion."

"Love potion? Made of my milk?" Cassandra looked down at her breasts, 
and the pulsing tube leading to the stainless-steel collecting canister. It 
made a loud ringing sound as the milk spurted into it. "Love?" she asked, 
wonderingly. "Does it work?"

"'Course it works! Everything we make works."

"It just doesn't always do quite what we expect, that's all," said Pansy.

"But this love potion will," Suzanne said firmly.

"Could I have some? Could you make some for me?" Cassandra looked up 
at the girls.

"What for? You're no age at all. What do you want love for?"

"I've watched dogs do it in the village. It looks fun. But I'd rather do it 
with boys. Toots does, and she's not that much older than me. Well, only a 
year or so. But what boy would want to love a girl with boobs this big. 
Look at the things!"

Suzanne and Pansy looked at them. Even in the flame-orange bra, they 
rested on Cassandra's thighs where she sat on the bed, and projected 
forward beyond her knees. And they stuck way out to both sides. As she 
said, what boy would be interested in tits as big as those?

"Yeah, I see what you mean. I don't know if it would work for you, Cass." 
Suzanne shook her head sadly.

"You can try, though," said Pansy generously. "We'll mix you some 
tomorrow. We'll need some more milk, of course."

"Oh, all right then. Wait until I've finished this lot. But don't dare say 
anything. I'll get shot if Baps finds out.


**********

"What did you tell her that for?" Suzanne kicked a stone on the path 
leading to the Sexual Chemistry laboratory. It hit one of the St Cat's cats. 
"We can't give Cassandra any of the FatLite we're making for Anastasia. 
She'll explode!"

"We can make her some of the old Love spray. It will only take five 
minutes. Are you sure we need to make FatLite for Anastasia? She's huge 
enough already. If she gets any bigger, she'll burst."

"We've been through all this, Pan-zee," Suzanne explained patiently. 
"We've got to get Toria laid, to stop her getting any bigger, right?"

"Yeah, right!" Pansy rolled her eyes in boredom.

"But we might not be able to find her a boy. Even Toots might not be able 
to find us one. Or we might find a boy and Toria won't be in the mood for it 
..."

"You've got to be joking ...!"

"Well, you know what I mean. We need to get Toria into bed with a boy, 
but even when we do, she's still seven inches bigger than Anastasia. So 
Anastasia needs a bit more growth. Just a little bit of FatLite is all she 
needs. It doesn't need to be very strong. If we're making up a spray 
solution for Cassandra's Love, we may as well make Anastasia's FatLite 
into a spray as well. Then she'll just need a quick squirt. Imagine having to 
rub FatLite into those gigantic things of hers. It would take days!"

"Miss Gruntworthy would do it. She fancies Anastasia!"

"I know, but there isn't time. Let's spray her. It can't go wrong. Come on."

Suzanne led the way into the lab.


**********

Toots bounced into the First Form dorm, watched with awe by the other 
new girls. They had never seen anything like the little black girl with the 
huge round breasts, the expensively tailored school uniform and the 
chauffeur driven minivan. Only Cassandra - said to be at least a whole year 
younger than any of them, but with probably the Biggest Breasts in the 
World - only Cassandra had the assurance even to talk to Toots.

"I foun' some boys," said Toots. "Who want one?" The other Juniors were 
silent, stunned and embarrassed. They were being offered boys and had no 
idea what one did with them.

"Where did you find them, Tootsie?" asked Cassandra.

"Lord Ted's. My Nigel drive me over and we park by the gate. Some of de 
young ones come out for a cross country run. They all got wobbly bottoms 
and baggy shorts." Toots giggled and the other girls blushed deeply. "I wait 
till dey been for their run and on de way back, all weak and shagged out, 
and I jump out of de van and take a deep breath. He heee!"

"How many did you bring?"

"None. We can have dem tomorrow after school. Six should be enough. Dat's 
three each if the others don't want any."

"Three?" Cassandra pondered the idea of dealing with three boys 
simultaneously. She wasn't entirely innocent herself, having snogged 
behind the Baptist Hall in Fillamore Deepleigh, but three boys was 
something else. She wondered if Pansy would be round with the Love 
Potion by then. It could be quite exciting. Three boys and Love Potion! 
Wow, she thought.

A pity about her giant tits, though. Who ever heard of a boy being 
interested in boobs the size of these things? Maybe, one day, she would 
have to ask Suzanne if she had any stuff for making them smaller.


**********

I sat at the dressing table doing my hair. Corinne had gone for a walk with 
four of her breast-carrying boys, for back-strengthening exercise. Hers or 
the boys, I wasn't sure.

There was a knock on the door, and Smegs put her head round it.

"Shan, can I see you?"

I looked at her, her eyes were open, the lights were on. "Probably," I said. 
"What's up?"

"I'm worried about FatLite," she said.

"Aren't we all? Who's grown this time?"

"Not one of the girls. It's me."

I stared at Smegs's chest. It looked about the same size as usual, and just 
as perky. She noticed the direction of my gaze. "Not up here, I mean down 
here!"

"Down there?"

"Down here. Do you want to see?"

Never let it be said that Chauntaille Gruntworthy refused the opportunity 
to view another girl's private parts. Especially Smegs's. I nodded eagerly 
and spun round in my chair so hard that I overshot and had to go round 
again. I felt quite giddy as Smegs slid her skirt down to her ankles and 
stepped out of it. She hooked her thumbs in the elastic of her panties, then 
stood there, blushing.

"Are you ready for this?"

"Come on, Smegs. Your pussy is hardly a stranger to me. Although you do 
seem curiously well-hung this morning. Are you wearing more than one 
pair of panties? Or a cricket box?"

"Neither. Shan, I've grown since July. My ... thingies ... they're bigger."

"Your thingies? Smegs, you never called them your thingies before. What 
thingies do you mean?"

"My lips. And my thing. My nubbin, my love bud!"

"Your clitoris, Smegs? This isn't like you. You usually enjoy talking dirty!"

"Shan, you won't laugh, or be rude, will you?"

"Of course not. I don't know how you could even suggest such a thing!"

Still blushing, she slowly pushed her panties down, not making the task 
any easier by keeping her knees pressed together. At last, she stood up 
straight with a little whimpering noise.

"Bloody Hell-fire, Megan!" I exclaimed. "Look at the size of that lot!" And I 
began to giggle.

"You said you wouldn't laugh or be rude."

"That was before I saw your thingies. They are without question the 
biggest thingies I have ever seen in my life. No! Don't put them away yet 
...!"

Slowly, she uncrossed her legs again and I dismounted from my chair for a 
closer look.

"Bloody Shit," I confirmed. "They're enormous, Smegs!"

"I know," she said. "I've seen them. Every time I get dressed. You're the 
only other person I've shown them to."

"The only girl, you mean. What about boys? What do they think?"

"I haven't done it since they grew this big. It was at the beginning of 
August."

"You haven't done it since the beginning of August? Oh, Smegs, my poor 
lamb! What happened?"

"I was on a date and I felt so hot, yet he only wanted to play with my tits. 
He was obsessed with them. When he dropped me off in the car, my tits 
were just about numb from the mauling and my pussy was on fire."

"Like the wooden spoon?"

"Not literally on fire. Burning. I rubbed some face cream on it to cool it off. 
It seemed to work, but next morning I was all puffed up. A week later, my 
thingies were bigger. Since then, they dangle even more. Almost another 
inch!"

"Are they still getting bigger?" I investigated with a fingernail and Smegs 
leaped in the air. She seemed to stay up there for ten seconds.

"Yes," she said when she finally came down. "They're growing more slowly 
now, but I think they're still getting longer and thicker. Look at them! 
What man would want to see lips like these things?"

"Quite a few, I imagine. Some men like big things best. Tits, pussies, cars, 
bottoms, labia ..."

Smegs took them between the fingers and thumbs of both hands and 
stretched her pussy lips. It looked terribly rude.

"Bloody hell! Well, now you do that, maybe you're right. Perhaps men 
wouldn't like them quite as big as those," I said supportively. "They are 
pretty enormous. Most men have enough trouble finding the hole anyway. 
Even my mineshaft. With those things, they'd have to dig for it."

"Thanks, Shan." She bent and pulled her panties up again. "You've been a 
real friend." Picking up her skirt, she made for the door. "I'll do the same 
for you sometime."

The door closed firmly behind her.

What was she getting so mad for? Her labia were huge. They must have 
dangled down at least three inches and they were all puffy and wrinkly. 
And with her clit sticking out, she looked like a boy. And I had never even 
got around to mentioning her clit.

Some people are so sensitive.





Chapter 5:- All Mixed Up


"Now, whatever you do, don't mix them up this time."

"I didn't mix them up last time," said Pansy, horrified at the suggestion. "It 
was your fault."

"My fault? I have to look after my little cousin the whole time to stop her 
doing stupid things with Sexual Chemistry. Every time it goes wrong, it's 
your fault."

"Little cousin? Little? Do you mean younger? Slightly shorter? More 
delicately-featured and small-boned? Or a little matter of twenty inches 
bigger in the bust measurement?" asked Pansy sweetly.

Suzanne flushed. "Twenty inches my arse! Just because you were stupid 
enough to get yourself pregnant, your tits have grown. I've always been 
bigger than you."

"Just because nobody wants to shag you. At least, I can get a boyfriend!"

"Are you going to label those bottles or not?" Suzanne shouted, neatly 
steering the subject back on course.

"Label them yourself," Pansy stormed. "I feel horny. I'm going to see Toots 
and borrow one of her boys."

"You're going to what ...?"

Too late. She'd gone. Suzanne picked up the nearest of the three spray 
bottles and hunted around for a marker pen. She found one, but it ran out 
after the first letter, 'L'.

"Shit!" said Suzanne. "It's all that Pansy's fault."


**********

"Toots!" Pansy looked round the double doors of the First Form dorm. Only 
Cassandra needed the extra door width this term, but she needed it more 
than anyone else in the whole school. The enormous girl was the only one 
in the room; by her bed, with her back to the door, she was doing a series 
of deep knee bends.

Pansy watched her, fascinated. Each time she went down, her breasts slid 
massively down the outsides of her thighs and bounced on the floor. When 
she stood upright, they swung ponderously at about thigh level. From her 
position behind Cassandra, Pansy could see both of her mountainous 
udders, each one sticking out about a yard to each side of her body. Pansy 
had never seen anything so huge in her life. All Cassandra was wearing 
was a pair of workmanlike knickers. Workmanlike in the sense that they 
revealed about six inches of bottom cleavage, like a worker on a building 
site. And those calves and thighs! So powerful, they were the strongest legs 
Pansy had ever seen, like a weightlifter's. She realised with a shock that 
Cassandra was not a fat girl as everyone thought of her. She was tall - 
easily as tall as Miss Mountains - but built like a brick shithouse. And so 
strong. You had to be strong to carry a pair of boobs like those around with 
you everywhere you went.

Cassandra did one last knee bend, then stood up, not even panting, and 
turned round. From the front, her breasts hid her completely from the 
knees up.

"Hi, Pan! How long have you been there?" Her voice retained the broad 
country accent of Fillamore Deepleigh. Given time, Pansy thought, she 
would speak in the more refined tones of St Catherine's High School for 
Girls, a sound which could, under the right circumstances, shatter glass.

"I was watching you!" Pansy blushed a little, realising she had become 
turned on while watching Cassandra. She adjusted the sopping crotch of 
her panties before lowering her breasts again.

"You've pissed yourself, Pan," Cassandra pointed out kindly.

"No, it's not piss, it's love-juice. Aren't you strong, Cass!" 

"I suppose so. I have to be, with these. They weigh as much as you do. 
Each! I can't weigh myself on a bathroom scales, I have to go to the cattle 
market. Anyway, what did you want?" She waved around the empty dorm. 
"They've all gone out. Classes or something."

"Don't you go to classes as well?" Pansy asked her.

"Usually, but they're in the computer lab today and I can't get through the 
door. If I did, I'd be no good at a keyboard. Shit, I can't even sit at a desk! 
Even Toots stands up to type, and I'm miles bigger than her."

"It was Toots I was looking for." Pansy said. "I wanted a boy."

"Oooh, you've come to the right place! She's got some brand new ones, too, 
you came at the right time. Nearly. I'll tell her you want one. What's he 
for?"

"For? Just the usual things," said Pansy uncomfortably. "Snogging and that."

"Just snogging? I thought Toots said these were for fucking. They're good 
ones, she said."

"I fuck as well," said Pansy hurriedly, "well, obviously." She patted her 
growing lump and blushed.

"Well, yeah, I suppose you do. Look. When she comes in, I'll get her to save 
one for you. She was going to give me three, but that's too many. Just 
because she likes them in bulk, she thinks everyone else does, too. You can 
have one of mine if you like. I'll let you take your pick, and I'll have the 
other two. Although I doubt if they'll want me, with tits this big."

"Thanks, Cass!" Pansy reached out and touched Cassandra on the breast. 
She couldn't get close enough to touch anything else. "You're a star. When 
can I have him?"

"Tomorrow, Toots said."

"TOMORROW? But I can't last that long. I'm desperate. I just walked out of 
the Sexual Chemistry lab and left Suzanne to label the spray bottles, I was 
so horny." She clutched her streaming groin with one hand and took a few 
paces in various directions, chewing the fingers of her other hand.

"Stand still, Pan! You're making me giddy. What were you making in the 
lab? Was it my Love Potion?"

Pansy changed hands. "Yeah. And some FatLite spray for Anastasia, and 
some extra strong Fuck. That's for someone else. I can't say who." The 
thought of Victoria's extra strong Fuck was too much for poor Pansy and 
she thrust both hands up her skirt and into her panties.

"Is it as bad as that, Pan?"

Pansy nodded wordlessly, her eyes watering.

"How about one of Miss Meadowlark's boob-carriers? She's got too many 
these days, somebody was saying."

"Since she shrank, yeah. That was FatLite. She was gigantic, but she's half 
the size now, and they're heavier. More like yours, only you're so much 
taller, so yours don't reach the floor. But I don't fancy any of them. I've 
had the ones I wanted, anyway!"

"All of them? But there's three dozen of them."

"Yeah?"

"Gosh, Pan!" Cassandra blushed at the thought.

"I know. I had them at the end of last term, when my tits were just 
starting to grow. Some of them were okay, but mostly they were just boys. 
I think I need an older man!"

"The ones Toots had were fourteen or fifteen."

Pansy wrinkled her nose. "Oh, no. They're kids!"

Cassandra stared at her, her mouth opening in amazement. She tried to say 
something, then thought better of it and closed it again.

"But I suppose they'll do." Pansy was literally panting. "Yes, please, Cass. 
When can I see them?"

"Come round tomorrow after school. Toots will have them brought over in 
her van. You can get one then. He might be good, you never know."

"He might. I doubt it. What can I do tonight?" Pansy went bright red. "I'm 
so horny, I'm going to explode if I don't get it off." She hopped up and 
down, her breasts flopping around gigantically.

Cassandra watched her uncomfortably. "I'll see Toots as soon as she comes 
in. Go and have a lie-down or a cold shower. Have a wank. Do you know 
how to do it? Ah, yeah, it looks like you're doing it already ...!"

"Toots says you should never waste a good org-asm, Cass. When you get 
older, you'll understand."


**********

Suzanne was in a bad mood. She stuffed the three squeeze bottles into a 
carrier bag and slammed out of the lab. Bumping into Pansy right outside 
the door did nothing to brighten her gloom.

"Oh, you came back, then? What's up? Couldn't find a boy good enough for 
you?"

"You wait until you see the one I've got lined up for tomorrow. Eat your 
heart out, cousin, dear!" Pansy was still fidgety, her hands still straying 
between her legs for a quick feel.

"Meanwhile, you're itchy as one of Clit's flea-ridden cats. Look at you, you 
can't even stand still for a second!"

Pansy changed the subject desperately. "Did you label those bottles. 
Properly, I mean. If you get those three wrong you'll be in deepest shit."

"I never get them wrong." She took two of the bottles out of her bag and 
showed Pansy.

"You haven't labelled them," Pansy gasped. "I'm gone ten minutes and you 
fuck up completely. Which is which?"

Suzanne dropped the two bottles quickly into the bag and took out the 
third, labelled 'L'. "This one's Lite," she said firmly.

"Or Love," said Pansy. "Knowing you, it could even be Extra Strong Fuck. 
You've blown it again, haven't you. All that work wasted. Another wooden 
spoon burned to a cinder. Another pint of best quality Cassandra-milk 
down the pan. You'd better throw that lot away. Now, before you do some 
damage. And don't bother coming in to help me. I'll mix this next lot 
myself."

"I wasn't going to help you. I know which is which. If you don't trust me, 
go ahead. But you'll have to use Shona-milk, or cow and sugar, so YOUR 
FatLite won't work properly anyway, nyerrrrr!"

For the second time, Suzanne was talking to herself. 

Pansy was already in the Sexual Chemistry lab, shrugging into her 100-
inch bust lab coat and fastening the myriad buttons down the front. It took 
longer than usual, as she had to sit down and take a rest halfway through. 
And once she was sitting down, the Uncontrollable Horniness came over 
her again, and it was ten minutes before she was ready to resume her task. 
Worse, she had three more attacks before she finally screwed the top on 
the last spray bottle and neatly wrote 'XSF' on the sticky label.

She looked at her watch. No time to lose. The top priority was to spray 
Victoria with Extra Strong Fuck, to make her so desperately horny she 
would get herself laid without further delay, thus avoiding an increase of 
six inches on her bust.

The next would be to spray Anastasia with FatLite, to give her a gentle 
increase in the rate of growth of her breasts, from an inch a day to three or 
four inches. With any luck, Anastasia would take over the Scarlet Sash of 
Head Girl within another two days.

The lowest priority of all was to spray her young friend Cassandra with 
Love so she would meet a boy or two and live happily ever after.

Victoria would be in class, along the corridor. Pansy set off to wait for her 
sister outside the classroom door.


**********

'I'm not wasting perfectly good chemicals,' thought Suzanne, angry with 
her cousin. She could be so absolutely stuck-up sometimes, and she was 
worse lately, since she got that fat belly and those absurdly humungous 
boobs.

How was Suzanne going to spray Victoria? It had become vitally important 
to her that she sprayed her older cousin with her bottle of Extra Strong 
Fuck before Pansy did it with hers. It never occurred to Suzanne to think 
that Victoria would be getting a double dose. Provided she got her shot in 
first, she reasoned, Pansy's effort would be nothing but a waste of time.

Suzanne knew her cousin well. She would certainly wait outside Victoria's 
classroom and catch her on the way out. Suzanne, therefore, would have to 
spray her before the class finished, while she was still inside. Fortunately, 
Victoria always liked to sit by the window, so she could look out over the 
fields during the more boring lessons. This lesson was Biology, so Victoria 
would be spending more time than ever paying no attention to the teacher. 
It was a warm late summer day. The window would be open.

Her luck was in. Suzanne tiptoed round the side of the building, peered 
through the windows and found Victoria's seat. She placed the bottle on 
the ground and set off for the caretaker's shed. Jeremy was out, and apart 
from a Senior girl enjoying strenuous oral sex with the disco lad, the shed 
was empty. The loving couple ignored Suzanne completely. Senior girls 
always ignored Juniors.

In no time, Suzanne had found what she was looking for.


**********

They shouldn't have classes on hot days like this. Especially Biology. Bor-
ing. Bore-ology. Miss Mountains was droning on about beans making love 
to other beans. Even Miss Mountains seemed bored. Victoria watched her 
for a few seconds. The teacher's voice faltered for a while as both her 
hands disappeared beneath the desk. Miss Mountains was obviously 
feeling horny again. It happened most days.

Bravely, Miss Mountains cleared her throat and continued. Outside, a bird 
was singing, tweet tweet tweety-tweet, hisssss!

A strange noise for a bird, Victoria thought, then forgot about it as Miss 
Mountains suddenly clutched at herself intimately and gave a strangled 
cry. It was two or three minutes before she was well enough to continue. 
One of the girls even brought her a glass of water.

The hissing bird was still warbling and tweeting away. And still hissing. 
Victoria felt drowsy. In front of her, another girl laid her head on her arms 
and went to sleep on her desk-top. Victoria envied her. Two more girls 
made themselves comfortable and nodded off. Soon, a dozen girls by the 
window were snoring softly. 'Seems like a good idea,' thought Victoria, as 
she laid her head down on the top of her desk.


**********

The bell rang deafeningly, and Pansy tensed, ready for the rush of girls 
from the Fourth Form classroom. An anticlimax. In the echoing silence 
when the bell ceased its clangour, Pansy had a sudden thought that she 
had been waiting outside an empty classroom all this time. She peered 
through the glass door.

The Fourth Form was sound asleep. So was Miss Mountains. Pansy was 
puzzled. She took another look. The girls were asleep all right. Their heads 
were pillowed on their arms, and their full breasts heaved softly with their 
deep breathing. They would miss their next class. So would Pansy. She had 
to do something as a matter of urgency. Opening the door, she crept into 
the room and tiptoed across to the window, her tongue sticking out with 
the concentration needed to steer a hundred inches of bosom and a ripely 
pregnant belly from one side to the other of a classroom full of sleeping 
schoolgirls.

She made it safely and without disturbing anyone.

No time for finesse. She whipped out her bottle of Extra Strong Fuck and 
gave it to Victoria in one protracted burst, covering her from neck to thigh. 
Then she fled in panic.


**********

"Did you throw those bottles away yet?" Pansy accused her cousin as soon 
as she took her seat beside her in the English (Smutty Poetry) class.

"I got rid of some of it," said Suzanne truthfully.

"What about the rest?"

"The bin was full. I'll be getting rid of the rest later."

"You'd better, too...!"

"Pansy Woods! Do you have nothing better to do than chat to your cousin?" 
Miss Rhys ap Llewelyn Owen had entered the classroom like a stealth 
bomber. "You will write out a thousand times, 'Advanced Pregnancy Is Not 
An Acceptable Excuse For Anti-social Behaviour By Second Form Children, 
100-Inch Busts Or No 100-Inch Busts', and bring it to me in my staff room 
by supper-time tomorrow!"

"Oh, Miss!"

"Two thousand, Pansy!"

"But I've got a date, Miss!"

"FIVE thousand, Pansy! And do not forget the capital letters."

"It's all right, Pan," the girl next to her leaned across and whispered to her. 
"You can write it out once and use my computer program to do the others. 
It will take ten minutes to print out."

"Thanks, Goofy!"

"TEN thousand, Pansy!"

"Make that twenty minutes," said Goofy. "One thing, Pan. Can you get me a 
date as well, please?"





Chapter 6:- The Age Of Information


I hung around for ten minutes, wondering where the Fourth Form girls 
were. It wasn't like Smegs to allow her class to over-run, certainly not 
Biology and the Sex-Life Of The Bean. Perhaps Labia had cocked up the 
timetable and the girls had gone somewhere else. I got up from my desk 
and wandered over to the Fourth Form classroom.

A tranquil scene met me when I went in. The slumbering girls and their 
teacher looked so peaceful, I almost hadn't the heart to wake them. Smegs 
had obviously managed to get her point over very successfully, that the 
Sex-Life Of The Bean was the most boring subject of all time.

I crept over to her desk and shook her elbow. She gave a little snort and 
settled down to sleep again. She looked so comfortable. It was a blessing 
that she wasn't perched on hands and knees on top of the desk in her 
familiar sleeping position, displaying her phenomenally enlarged labia in 
all their dangling glory. The thought made me feel slightly faint.

"Smegs, wake up!"

"Wha ..?" She sat up as I shook her arm with more vigour, and kept on 
shaking it. "Oh, hi, Shan. Is it morning already?"

"Wake up. You're in class. You put them all to sleep as well."

"Me? I did all this?" She looked around the room full of sleeping girls. 
"Gosh!"

"Help me wake them up, they're quarter of an hour late for my class." I 
shook the shoulder of the nearest girl, while Smegs stood up and stretched 
like an extremely tall cat. "Careful how you wake them," I said, "the shock 
might be harmful."

"They might have the strength of ten men," said Smegs, fearfully pulling 
away from the girl she was about to awaken.

"No, darling," I said. "That's swans. They can break your legs with a single 
blow of their wings."

"I'm not waking them, then," said Smegs promptly. "I don't want my legs 
broken."

The poor girl wasn't quite rational yet, obviously.

"These are Fourth Form girls, Smegs," I explained gently. "They're not 
swans."

"Don't be too sure," she said. "Look at that one over there. Look at the 
length of her neck. Those little swanny eyes."

Something was wrong with Smegs. She cowered in the corner while I went 
round the room, waking the girls. By the time I had woken three or four, 
the first ones were fast asleep again. There was a jug of water on Smegs's 
desk, and an empty glass. I filled the glass and tossed it over the first row 
of girls. They sat up reluctantly, blinking and inspecting their wet blouses 
in confusion. Three more glasses brought the rest of the class to attention.

Then something happened which chilled my blood. One girl began to moan 
softly. In no time, the moaning had spread to the others on each side of 
her. More and more of them took it up, until the whole class was moaning. 
Their eyes were glazed, their heads raised to the ceiling like dogs howling 
at the moon. And at an unspoken signal, they all rose from their seats and 
began to mingle. They formed pairs, small groups of two and three.

And without saying a word to each other, or stopping their moaning, they 
tore their clothes off and began to make love to each other. Tongues lapped 
at rude bits, nipples were sucked and teased into erection, eager fingers 
sought and filled glistening slithery orifices of every description.

I could only back away and join Smegs in the corner of the room where 
she looked at me with frightened eyes, and something else.

"Darling," she breathed, "you came for me ...!" Her arms were around my 
neck. Despite the blood-curdling cries of the girls in their passion-crazed 
orgy, I felt an overwhelming wave of tenderness and love sweep over me 
as I fastened on to Smegs's open mouth with mine. We rolled on the floor. 
We were not the first. Other little groups of scantily-clad girls had adopted 
impromptu sixty-nines in every available corner.

And unseen by anyone in the seething classroom, Victoria slept on.


**********

Miss Rhys ap Llewelyn Owen dismissed the Second Form and stalked out 
with no more than a gloating glance at Pansy. Suzanne was out of her seat 
and following her out of the door with an expression of triumph. By the 
time Pansy had lumbered to the classroom door, her cousin had 
disappeared. 

Pansy shrugged and went back to her desk for her bag. There were still 
two squeeze bottles in there. The first was the weak FatLite for Anastasia. 
Just strong enough to make Anastasia's boobs grow a little faster. It had 
been Suzanne who had the idea of boosting Anastasia's growth as well as 
getting Victoria laid. Pansy had to admit, it wasn't a bad idea. Victoria was 
such an objectionable Head Girl, the sooner they got rid of her the better. 
Using's Suzanne's idea, they could have a new Head Girl in two days, rather 
than a week or more.

Normally, Anastasia would have been with them in class, but Miss Rhys ap 
Llewelyn Owen had allowed her to work on a project in her room. Miss 
Thunderbolt's orders: extremely large-breasted girls were to be excused 
walking long distances between classes. It would save wear and tear on 
the floors, said Moggie. 

Pansy reckoned she had five minutes to get to the staff domestic quarters 
and spray Anastasia. Then she would have to get back to the restaurant in 
time for tea.

After all, she was eating for two now.


**********

Suzanne retrieved her second bottle and hurried off in the direction of the 
staff domestic quarters. She hadn't stayed on the scene long enough to see 
the effects of her first bottle on the girls of the Fourth Form. As far as she 
was concerned, she had sprayed Victoria with Fuck. Later, after school, 
Victoria would lay herself down for the first boy she saw. Meanwhile, 
Anastasia had to be sprayed with the special weak solution of FatLite. 

This was a difficult time of day to be approaching the staff quarters with a 
suspicious spray bottle. Suzanne decided on a devious approach. Instead of 
entering by the front door and going up the main staircase, she sneaked 
around the back of the building and went in through the side door. All was 
quiet as she slipped up the back stairs and approached Anastasia's room 
from the opposite direction. The only staff bedroom she had to pass was 
Miss Mountains's room. Her plan was to tiptoe up to it, then hurry as fast 
as she could past the door, round the corner and straight into Anastasia's 
room without knocking.

It almost worked.

Suzanne was within a couple of paces of Miss Mountains's door when it 
opened and the teacher backed out, carrying a huge cardboard box. She 
closed the door behind her and set off round the corner. Suzanne froze to 
the spot, then realised that Miss Mountains wouldn't be able to turn round 
and see her while she was carrying that box, so she hurried on, rounded 
the corner and reached out to open Anastasia's door.

It wasn't closed. Surprised, Suzanne went straight in, and found Miss 
Mountains plonking her cardboard box down on the table.

"Hello, Suzanne," she said. "What are you doing up here?"

"I came to see Anastasia about some homework, Miss," she said, hiding the 
bottle behind her back.

"She's not here. She's gone for her tea. She'll be fetching Miss Gruntworthy 
and Miss Meadowlark their tea as well. It's not easy for her, being the size 
she is, but she said she needed the exercise. What's in the bottle?"

"In the ...?"

"That one behind your back. Something from the Second Form Sexual 
Chemistry Group? Something for Anastasia? I hope you're not going to 
make her grow again!"

"Oh, this?" Suzanne looked at the bottle in her hand as if seeing it for the 
first time. "It's only Love." She held the bottle up. "See, the letter 'L' for 
Love? She's seeing Clark tonight and she's been feeling depressed. She 
wanted cheering up."

"Funny, she said she's not going out tonight. That's why she said she would 
parcel up this batch of dolls for me. All the clothes and things have to be 
wrapped separately. Have you seen their little wheelbarrows? Ever so 
sweet." Miss Mountains had a dreamy expression on her face. Suddenly she 
shook her head and held out her hand. "I'll take that bottle, please," she 
snapped sharply.

"But Miss ...!"

"But me no buts, Suzanne! Hand it over. I feel a little down myself today, 
and I have a heavy and crucial date later. Perhaps a bit of Love would 
help. Thank you. Then you may go and have your tea as well. You may 
even see Anastasia in the school restaurant."

Suzanne handed over the bottle without a word. This was another 
nightmare she was having.


**********

I knocked on the door of the bra measuring facility. It hadn't been my 
intention to go down there, and I didn't need a new bra or anything, but I 
found myself fifty yards from the place and suddenly had a real need to 
see Clit. God knows why. Perhaps I was still suffering Delayed Horniness 
from the session in the Fourth Form classroom. Whatever the reason, I 
knew deep inside that if I didn't have Clit eating my pussy within fifteen 
seconds, I would probably have to dive into the shelter of the bushes and 
bring myself off.

Flaps answered the door and opened it about three inches.

"What do you want?" she asked rudely, peering out at me.

"Is Clit there? I need her in the worst possible way."

"She's busy. You can wait out here if you like."

"I'd rather come in," I said, clutching helplessly at my groin.

"Shit. Come on, then. She's having somebody at the moment." I stepped 
inside and she closed the door after me. "Christ, you're fat!" she said.

"I know. But I still feel pretty."

"Pretty fat, yeah!" Flaps laughed unpleasantly. Fortunately, she didn't stay 
to hold a conversation, she went back to work at her sewing machine.

"Miz Gruntwurvy! Hi!" Clit came bustling out of the inner room, her breasts 
swinging heavily against her stomach. She reached up and gave me a wet 
kiss. She tasted of girl. Fourth Form girl, I estimated. "Sorry about the 
pussy-breath," she giggled, "I been measurin' a girl for a bra."

A Fourth Form girl passed through, buttoning her blouse. Clit smacked her 
gently on the bottom as she went by. "Thanks, Miss Clit," the girl laughed. 
"See you soon."

"See ya later, Tolly. Horny little bitch," said Clit as the girl went out. "Great 
tits on her, though."

"They had a touch of the Uncontrollable Horniness in the Fourths earlier," I 
said. "I got a bit of it myself."

"So I see!" Clit watched me as I tore my clothes off and tossed them in all 
directions. She flung her arms around my waist and sank to her knees.

"Oooh, woo-woo-woo-woo!" I said, almost immediately. "Oooh, Clit! Yessss!"

"God, you're fat, Miz Gruntwurvy," she said indistinctly, then gripped my 
still-blossoming bottom cheeks and pulled her face tighter into my 
moistness.

"I know, I know!"

"I don't mind you being so huge," she said. "You're still sexy as hell, and 
just as wet as ever."

I felt myself blushing prettily. "The fatter I get, the hornier I feel," I 
whispered shyly. Clit kissed me on the mouth, and this time I could taste 
me on her lips and tongue.

"Well, what can we do for you anyway?" Clit looked at me with a 
professional eye. "New bra? Same size?"

"No, I've still got my latest two FreeTips."

"Tell you what. Try our latest line. Not in production yet, but we're about 
ready to go with it, as soon as the readout cards come in, maybe 
tomorrow." She opened a box on the bench and took out a couple of dog-
vomit yellow bras. "This one's your size. Put it on."

"What's so special about it?" I held it up. It looked an ordinary enough bra. 
"Now I've had a FreeTips, I don't think I could stand having closed ends."

"It has to be." Clit patted my left breast and set it wobbling. I felt like 
going down on her, but she took a pace or two back out of reach, laughing 
as I dangled myself into the gigantic cups and pulled up the shoulder 
straps. "Ready, then?" and she reached into my cleavage and clicked a 
hidden switch. "There, it's on." She picked up a small object about the size 
of a credit card and gazed at it with a giggle. "Breathe in," she said. "Take a 
deep breath. Wow, that's more like it!"

"What are you looking at? What's that thing?" She handed it to me. It was 
one of those little digital displays with four numbers. 2.882, it said. "Clit, 
what's it mean?"

"Press the button at the bottom," she said.

I did, and the numbers changed to 34. I pressed it again and it changed to 
98. It changed again, back to 2.882.

"What's it all about?"

"You are wearing the first ever prototype ScatBra-E, the Electronic ScatBra. 
The 34 is your bra size. It's gone up, you know, since you've got so fat. The 
98 is your bust measurement. It goes up a bit when you breathe in. And 
the 2.8 something is the one divided by the other. So you've got a 
continuous readout of your bust size."

"What for? Who would want to know my bust measurement?"

"Everyone does," said Clit simply. "It's the same with the girls. People ask 
them all the time how big their busts are. Now they won't need to, the girls 
will wear their ScatBra-E and the readout card will be attached to their 
clothing somewhere, like their lapel. It has a pin on the back. There are 
special sensors in the bra strap that tell you the body measurement, and 
more in the cups to tell the overall size at the fullest point. That's why we 
can't have FreeTips, 'cos of the sensors in the cups. All the new issue Scats 
are modified, all we're waiting for is the new readout cards, so after 
tomorrow, the girls will all be able to display their bust size."

"Gosh!"

"In fact, they'll have to. Miss Thunderbolt is going to make them 
compulsory.

Good old Moggie, always a sucker for technology.

"Are you going to wear it now? It fits you nicely."

"I don't think so. And it's not very accurate, is it, if it gives my bust as only 
98."

"Is that what you don't like about it? I thought so. It's dead accurate, Miz 
Gruntwurvy, that's the trouble. Your tits are so floppy and squashy, by the 
time you've got them in your bra cups, they ain't ten feet any more, 
nothing like. Girls wiv firm, solid, full breasts get a higher readout. The 
ScatBra-E is going to be unpopular wiv some girls, I'm afraid, but the 
ScatBra-E never lies."

It was unpopular with me for a start. Clit handed me an industrial-sized 
roll of tissue to wipe the tears from my eyes. To avoid embarrassing me 
further, she occupied herself by wiping surplus juices from my inner 
thighs before tossing several yards of soggy tissue into the waste bin with 
a heavy thud.

I was beginning to realise the full implications of the ScatBra-E. Dozens of 
girls were going to be revealed as having a bigger bust than Miss 
Gruntworthy. Not only revealed. Proved by computer. What next? Data 
transmitted by each girl's bra sensors as they passed through a central 
monitoring station each morning? The girl with the biggest bust in the 
school being automatically elevated to Head Girl? Further sensors in a girl's 
skirt and panties to indicate their waist and hips measurements? Any girl 
exceeding certain limits to be barred from entry to the school restaurant?

It could be done easily enough. All it needed was an automatic barrier at 
the restaurant door to read the data, and a girl would be excluded, to the 
derision of her classmates. If she was very lucky and had a real friend, she 
might get someone to bring her a doggy-bag, although no doubt that could 
easily be stamped out, too.

This was Moggie's police state. I had seen the future, and it sucked.

"Before you go, Miz Gruntwurvy, take a couple of pairs of these." She 
handed me a paper bag.

"What is it?"

"ScatPants-E. You wear them over your ordinary knickers. They give your 
waist and hip measurements on a display unit. The girls will have a single 
master display showing all three measurements. Fortunately, we haven't 
got any of the readout units until tomorrow, so the secret of your grossly 
bloated lower half will remain a secret."

I was crying again as I grabbed the bag containing all my new electronic 
underwear and hurried away back to my room.


**********

Pansy saw Suzanne coming out of the staff quarters and ducked out of 
sight round the corner.

"Shit," she said out loud. "What's she been up to in there?" She peered 
round the corner again. The coast was clear. Suzanne hadn't seen her and 
had gone. Pansy did her best to look nonchalant as she stepped out into the 
open again.

"Hi, Pan! Were you coming up to see me?"

"Anastasia!" Pansy tried to hide the bottle behind her.

Anastasia, breathing heavily, stopped and tried to rest the picnic hamper 
she was carrying on the wall outside the doors. "Is that resting on the wall, 
Pan? I can't see it under my boobs."

"Forward a bit, Staze. There!" 

"What's in the bottle?"

"Bottle? Oh, this." Pansy looked at the bottle as if she had never seen it 
before in her life. 

"Is it something good? Something like Fuck? I could really use some Fuck. I 
haven't seen Clark for simply days. Hey, come on up and give me a quick 
spray of Fuck, Pan."

"But it's not ... you mean now? Isn't that food for Miss Meadowlark and 
Miss Gruntworthy?"

"Yeah. And me. Have you had your tea? Come on up to my room and we'll 
share mine. Honest, I've got tons too much for just the three of us, there'll 
be plenty for you."

"All right," Pansy said happily. She took one of the handles at the end of 
the hamper. "Let's go! You know, I think this might be a good batch of 
Fuck, Staze. I made it myself."





Part III





Chapter 7:- New Bras For Old


The effect was devastating.

Moggie announced the issue of the Scat-E Undergarments Series at 
morning assembly. The school hall became a seething cauldron of 
discussion. It was several seconds before relative silence fell. Moggie even 
smiled indulgently.

"This sort of noisy outburst is not at all the sort of thing we would 
normally tolerate at St Catherine's High School for Girls, but I appreciate 
that my latest announcement has caused something of a stir in your ranks. 
You must be wondering how soon you will be able to collect your new bras 
and instrumented underwear, and how long it will be before you can all be 
bouncing around proudly displaying your vital statistics on your own 
personal body-worn readout card. Well, girls, I can tell you. Today!"

An impromptu cheer rang out from most of the girls. Some, the ones who 
had thought it through, were more cautious in their approval. I could see 
their point. I, personally, was not looking forward to proudly displaying 
my measurements to the world. My true measurements, as indicated by 
computer, were less impressive than the ones I generally released to the 
public. A bust measurement of less than three figures was a shameful, 
shameful thing. And the size of my hips and what passed these days for 
my waist were both intensely embarrassing. Some of the girls obviously 
felt the same way.

Not Victoria, the Head Girl of St Cat's. She strode proudly up and down the 
side of the hall, peering menacingly along the rows of girls, slapping her 
riding crop against her stockinged thigh. Whenever she spotted a girl who 
was not showing enthusiasm for the scheme, she whipped out her 
notebook, breathing fire, and took the girl's name.

In no time, she had a list spreading across three pages. At least, as a 
teacher, I wasn't likely to appear on her list. I wondered what punishment 
Victoria had in mind. A sound spanking? Suddenly, I had a feeling that I 
wouldn't mind it at all if I did go on Victoria's list. I hadn't enjoyed a good 
spanking for weeks. I was getting wet just thinking about it. Could I 
volunteer?

Moggie brought me back to earth.

"Miss Gruntworthy will be organising the issue of ScatBra-E and ScatPants-
E to all girls, starting with the Junior school immediately after this 
assembly. The Middle school will receive theirs after morning break, and 
the Seniors this afternoon. That will be all. School, To Your Classes - 
Dismiss!"

Well, I thought. She might have told me a little sooner. As Moggie swept 
out, her mortar board set four-square on her head and her black gown 
swirling behind her, she looked every inch the old-fashioned schoolmarm: 
if you ignored the fact that she was wearing a scarlet microskirt which 
revealed powerful thighs - accentuated by her five-inch heels - and an 
occasional flash of fluorescent lime green panties; with a burstingly-tight 
and low-cut silver T-shirt which ended just below the nipples of her bra-
less breasts. Disgusting. 

"Help!" I appealed to Corinne and Smegs.

"It's all right, Shannie," Corinne reassured me.

"We'll help you, Shan," said the ever-supportive Smegs.

What it is to have friends.


**********

"What is going to happen to all the old bras," Smegs asked Clit, as we 
loaded box after box of brand new ScatBra-E models into one of the St Cat's 
fleet of common-user wheelbarrows.

"Why?" Clit asked guardedly.

"Nothing. Some of them will be worn out, with frayed cups and tired 
elastic, stretched from the overwhelming load of colossal young breasts; 
some will be stained with milk and colostrum; but some will be as good as 
new. Yet we have to collect them and hand them in. Why can't the girls 
keep them?"

"They belong to the school," said Clit simply. Her voice sounded flat, as if 
she was brainwashed.

"But some of them are just scrap. Why can't the girls throw them in the 
bin? And the good bras, they could be sold."

"No they can't," snapped Clit hurriedly. "Miss Thunderbolt says they're to 
be given to the poor."

"To the what?" Smegs sounded incredulous.

"The poor. Girls who haven't a bra to their names."

"What use to the poor are bras this size? Most of them are insanely huge!"

"Not my problem," Clit insisted. "They can use them as shopping bags if 
they like, but Miss Thunderbolt said they're for the poor, so to the poor 
they shall go. Now, are you getting out of here or are you going to stand 
around in my way all morning?"

We left.


**********

It all went quite swimmingly in the end. Clit and Flaps's computer records 
of each and every girl's bra size made it the work of seconds to hand out 
the bras to the girls, along with an appropriate pair of ScatPants, issued by 
Smegs with the aid of her eagle eye and specialised knowledge of youthful 
and extremely feminine bottoms. The girls then hurried away to try on 
their new things.

In no time, each classroom would be buzzing with conversation as the girls 
compared notes, admiring each other, deep breathing and fine tuning their 
shoulder straps. Even the very newest of the Juniors fell into the spirit of 
the occasion right away.

"When do we get de readout cards, Miss Gruntworthy?" Toots acted as 
spokesperson for the First Form.

"As soon as you all have your clothes back on, Tessa," I told her in my 
sternest voice. "To look at you all, one would be forgiven for imagining that 
you enjoy gawping at each other in your underwear."

Toots wheeled round and faced the class. Silence fell instantly.

"Right, dat's better. Get dressed, everyone, right away, or you don't get no 
readouts."

In ten seconds flat, the entire class was immaculately dressed and looking 
up at me with shining innocent eyes. Toots said nothing, but clapped and 
pointed, and the girls miraculously formed a single file leading up to the 
desk where Corinne stood with a box of readouts ready for issue.

"They work automatically," she explained, pinning the credit card sized 
readout to the lapel of the first girl in line. "As soon as you switch on your 
bra and pants, the readout will be programmed to receive data from 
*your* underwear only, so no matter how close you get to other girls, you 
will still display only your own measurements. No plugs, no connectors, no 
batteries, no wires." She attached the readout to the second girl, reached 
between her tight cleavage and turned her bra on, then with an effort, 
switched on her panties.

"Why did they put the panties switch in such a stupid place?" she 
complained to me.

"God knows. I suppose they thought it would be out of harm's way under 
there, so it wouldn't get knocked accidentally."

"Shows they don't know St Cat's girls, then, doesn't it?" She energised the 
third girl who peered down at her readout and gave a gasp of delight as 
the numbers flashed up on her screen.

"Thirty-eight, Miss," the girl enthused. "I've grown since last week!"

"That's right, Yekaterina," said Corinne sweetly, "and if you watch the 
numbers, you will see them change as you breathe in and out. You'll have 
to breathe out sometime, Yekaterina," she added as the girl's cheeks 
started to turn purple.

"Little slut," I muttered under my breath.

"You haven't got one yet, have you, Shannie?" Corinne tossed me a readout. 
"Shall I turn you on?"

I felt my panties instantly fill with a flood of juices at those words. The 
girls politely stood aside as I flung myself at Corinne and gave her a hug. 
For a while, readouts were forgotten in our moment of passion. By the time 
we reluctantly released each other, I was practically a quivering wreck. 
Toots obligingly brought me a box of tissues from her desk and helped 
wipe my inner thighs dry.

"Thanks, Toots, darling," I gasped. "You are most kind. Carry on, Miss 
Meadowlark, there's work to be done."

She had forgotten to switch on my bra and panties, which was fine by me. 
The last thing I wanted was to be revealed as 98-36-45.


**********

We passed like a plague through the Junior school. The underwear and 
their readouts were remarkably reliable. Only very few failed to work first 
time, straight out of the box, and Corinne quickly devised a testing 
procedure to isolate the faulty component. By the time we moved on to the 
Middle school girls after the morning break, we had only half a dozen 
faulty garments and three readout cards which gave somewhat suspect 
readings. One of these had to forcibly removed from a skinny youngster 
who was shown as having measurements of 888-8-88.

"How's it going, ladies?" asked Moggie, who was rather surprisingly still on 
the premises at eleven in the morning. I wondered if she had been stood 
up by her heavy date. Evidently she hadn't yet given up hope, as she was 
still wearing her microskirt and skimpy top, although she had discarded 
her formal academic mortar board and gown.

"Excellent progress, Miss Thunderbolt," I said. "All the Juniors are done, 
and this is the second class of Middles."

"Any further Head Girl candidates amongst them?" Moggie said, lowering 
her voice so that Victoria wouldn't hear her. The Head Girl was prowling 
amongst her classmates with her whip, looking for girls who appeared to 
be showing a lack of gravitas in her presence.

"Only Anastasia," I confirmed, " and she's still seven inches down on Toria.

We watched as Victoria strode into a pack of Fourth Formers and struck 
one of them with the flat of her hand across her drum-tight buttocks.

"You! Where's your VPL, girl? You're not wearing any panties! CALL ME 
STAFF!" she shrieked as the poor girl mumbled a reply. "How can you wear 
ScatPants-E if you don't wear clean panties underneath? Miss Mountains 
will be most upset. Go and dress yourself decently!" 

She reinforced her order with a firm spank which echoed round the room. 
The wretched girl must be hollow, I thought. Muttering mutinously, the 
inappropriately-dressed girl slunk in the direction of the door. "There's no 
room for panties under this skirt," she whined as she passed the group of 
teachers. We hardened our hearts against her, and her plea fell on deaf 
ears.

"Do you think Victoria is a little harsh?" I asked Moggie. "A little too ... 
physical?"

"She is strict, but that's no bad thing in a Head Girl," Moggie said, as 
Victoria began delivering a bawling out to another girl who appeared to 
have knotted her necktie with too small a knot. "I love her uniform, too. 
Those heels are really something. And the leather skirt ..."

Corinne looked disapproving. "I meant to ask about that, Miss. Is it within 
the school rules to wear a leather skirt?"

"Nothing in the rules about it," said Moggie. "Personally, I love the smell of 
leather when it is pressed against warm female flesh. There's something so 
*animal* about it."

"But Toria's not an animal," I protested. "I dunno, perhaps she is after all." 
Victoria had flung a girl to the floor and was jabbing her stiletto heel 
rhythmically into her rather too-large buttocks. As she interrogated the 
petrified girl, she reinforced each question with a sharp spank with her 
riding crop. She was evidently finding her dominant role quite stimulating. 
Her nipples were curiously extended, presumably through unauthorised 
holes in the ends of her bra. With her free hand, she held her top hat to 
stop it falling off.

"She's going to have to wear a proper bra with ends when she gets her 
ScatBra-E," Smegs pointed out. "Look at her nipples!"

We were. We did. We couldn't take our eyes off the things, they were 
hypnotic.

Victoria saw the direction of our joint gaze. She administered a final slap 
and a parting jab with her heel and strode over to us. In her exaggerated 
footwear she towered over Cee and me.

"How do you like my bra?" she asked, reaching out at arms' length and 
flicking lewdly at her nipples with the very end of her riding crop. "Don't 
worry, it's an E! Clit made it specially for me. It has special non-contact 
micro sensors to read the nipple extension. When I get fully aroused, I can 
get another four inches on the bust. Anastasia can eat her heart out, she'll 
never catch me. I'm quite aroused the whole time these days," she added 
modestly.

"That's a ScatBra-E?" Corinne pinned a readout card to Victoria's shoulder 
and plunged her arm into the girl's bottomless cleavage. It was like a 
veterinary surgeon examining the internal workings of a cow. After a 
moment's concentration, Corinne found the switch and the figures glowed.

"Oh, my Christ," said Smegs.

"Jeezus H!" I added, in clarification.

"Oh my God!" sighed Corinne.

I waited for Moggie to invoke the Holy Spirit, but she was singing from a 
different hymn sheet.

"Fucking Hell!" she said. Girls gasped and giggled.

Victoria looked down at her readout card and blushed prettily.

"Golly!" she giggled. "Is that really all me? Look, Miss!" She took a deep 
breath and aimed her breasts at me, then had to turn them to one side 
slightly so she could get close enough for me to read the improbable 
numbers on her readout card.

There was some mistake, surely. This was ridiculous.

A feeling of despair flooded over me as I realised that Anastasia was never 
going to be Head Girl at this rate. Victoria was now leading by well over a 
foot. This looked like a job for Superman. Or possibly the Second Form 
Sexual Chemistry Group. 





Chapter 8:- Everybody's Got A Plan


"She can't be *that* much bigger than Staze! It's obscene." Suzanne stalked 
up and down beside her bed in frustration.

"She is," said Pansy. "You saw Anastasia's measurements for yourself."

"Huh! Don't remind me."

"She's not THAT big, Suze. Her bust is not even twice as big as yours. 
Toria's is, though. That's another week she's gone without getting laid, and 
with that special bra that pushes her nipples out, she's even bigger, 
especially when she's turned on. Last night, when she came in and 
screamed at us all again, they were as long as my finger. I know she's my 
big sister and all, but it even made me wet just looking at them sticking 
out like that."

"What happened to the brew that was supposed to make her fall in love 
with the first boy she saw, then, cousin Pan-zee?"

"Maybe she hasn't seen a boy yet. You know how it is here. You can go for 
days without seeing so much as a shadow of a boy. The Seniors have them 
in, and so does Toots, but if they keep them in their beds, covered up, 
you'd never know they were there."

"In that case, what about the FatLite that should have made Anastasia 
grow again?"

"I don't know. Why are you asking me? Maybe she's as big as she can go 
with FatLite. Perhaps there's an upper limit. We've just never found it, 
that's all."

"We could find out if there is one," said Suzanne, brightening.

"Do what?"

"We could FatLite a girl every day for a week and see how big she gets. If 
we don't find an upper limit, as you call it, we'll know there's nothing 
stopping us from making Anastasia bigger. All we need to do is to keep 
trying slightly different mixtures. But if we FatLite a girl and she only gets 
up to Anastasia's size, then stops; that will mean we've found the upper 
limit, and we will have to shrink Toria."

"Another girl? That's crazy. Who are we going to do that to? Every day for 
a week? She'd explode."

"We could use Goofy," said Suzanne. "She wouldn't mind. She's always 
wanted huge tits."

"You mean, you want us to cream Goofy every day for a week? Why don't 
we just shrink Toria and have done with it?"

"That's easier said than done. We can't just walk up to Toria and shrink 
her, just like that. Goofy's a different matter altogether. We'll just cream 
her. Every morning. We won't tell anyone. We'll drag her into the bogs and 
cream her. Then every night we'll SuperLite her, then next morning we'll 
FatLite her all over again, and so on. We could get her up to two hundred-
odd inches in a week, if there's no upper limit!"

Pansy shook her head. "How would we make her smaller again?"

"Smaller? What would we want to do that for?" asked Suzanne, aghast at 
the very thought.

"Because we wouldn't really want Goofy as Head Girl of St Cat's, would we? 
She'd be worse than my sister."

Suzanne considered the prospect. In her enthusiasm for FatLitening yet 
another girl, this time to the absolute maximum, she had forgotten Miss 
Thunderbolt and her ridiculous Head Girl rule.

"We could keep her hidden for a week, easy."

"How can you hide a girl? Especially if she gets that big? Somebody would 
miss her for sure. Anyway, she'd have to be measured. And she'd need 
new bras all the time. A new one every day. It wouldn't work."

But Suzanne had the bit between her teeth.

"It would. Listen. I've got this great idea."


**********

"I've got a great idea, Cee!"

"Not another one, Shan, please!"

"This one is really great. And like all truly great ideas, it is so simple. I 
wonder why we never thought of it before."

"So do I," Corinne said, pulling the bed covers up under her chin. "I hope 
you're not thinking of shrinking Toria or enlarging Anastasia. Or even both 
at the same time."

"Why not?" Why did Corinne seem to work out what I was thinking so 
easily? Was I really as transparent as that?

"Because, dearest heart, neither Shrink not FatLite ever work the way they 
are supposed to. I finally got my breasts back down to an almost 
manageable size, but only by rigidly following the instructions. Your 
Second Form Sexual Chemistry Group girls are incapable of sticking to the 
formula without fucking around with half the ingredients. The results are 
usually devastating. And exactly the opposite of those intended. We are 
NOT going to mess around with those poor girls' bodies any more!"

"I only wanted to reverse things a bit, that's all. It's not messing around 
with their bodies if all we do is take away the effects of some of the 
nastiest chemicals, is it? Both of them have a problem. Toria is perpetually 
horny, and if she doesn't have a fuck every week, her bust grows another 
six inches. Anastasia *was* growing quite normally, and she stopped. So all 
we need to do is reverse those two trends. Simple!"

"Simple?" Corinne was gaping at me in what looked like utter disbelief. 
"Simple? Anastasia, growing normally? At an inch a day? What's normal 
about that for a twelve-year-old? And what happens if you reverse Toria's 
predicament? Either she'll be perpetually unhorny, so she won't even 
WANT to fuck, so she'll carry on growing two feet a month. Is that what 
you meant?"

"But ..."

"Or did you mean that you're going to make her perpetually horny, and 
every time she DOES have a fuck her bust grows another six inches? She 
could be the size of the Albert Hall in time for the Last Night of the Proms 
next week."

Trust Corinne to get it all wrong. The Last Night of the Proms was in two 
weeks' time.

I told her to sod off and stormed out of the bedroom. I didn't say a word to 
her, not even when I came back ten minutes later to get dressed. 

Fortunately, I had only got as far as the door of the Second Form Sexual 
Chemistry Group laboratory, so it wasn't too dreadfully embarrassing.


**********

"It's a stupid idea, Suzanne. We're not going to do it."

"Which is a stupid idea? Miss Gruntworthy's, or mine?"

"Both." Pansy sounded a little bit insecure. "Miss Gruntworthy wants us to 
reverse both Toria's and Anastasia's chemistry. I'll tell you what will 
happen if you reverse Toria's chemistry. Either she'll be perpetually 
unhorny, so she won't even WANT to fuck, and she'll carry on growing two 
feet a month. Is that what you want? Or did you want her to be 
perpetually horny, and every time she DOES have a fuck her bust grows 
another six inches? She could be the size of the Albert Hall in time for the 
Last Night of the Proms next week."

"Is it as soon as that?" asked Suzanne. "Funny how the Last Night of the 
Proms comes round so quick every year. All those daft prats waving Union 
Jacks and blowing hooters and singing Britons ... Never, Never, Never ... 
SHELL Be Slaves!"

"Suzanne?"

"What?"

"Shut up. It won't work. And if we reverse Anastasia's chemistry, she'll 
start growing again, and she'll have a sixty-metre bust measurement by 
the time she's ready to leave school. She'll be Head Girl all right, but she'll 
never get out of the building, so she'll be Head Girl for life. God knows how 
big her bust will be by the time she's old and ready to get married."

"About a hundred and forty metres," suggested Suzanne after a quick 
calculation.

"Well, there you are, then. What man would ever want to marry a girl with 
a five and a half thousand-inch bust?"

"And glasses."

"And glasses," Pansy agreed, as if that set the seal on it.

"In that case," said Suzanne triumphantly, "we have only one option. We 
FatLite Goofy as big as she will go for a week. If it works, we can try 
SuperLitening Anastasia again."

Pansy was staggered by her cousin's warped logic. "It's madness," she said.

"All the best ideas are slightly mad," Suzanne said encouragingly. "I've 
been thinking about it. We could do it in the little store room, where I fell 
through the wall when they were measuring Miss Meadowlark's boys. We 
could write a note to say Goofy's had to go home for a week, and give it to 
Ole Miss Labia. Then we'll FatLite her. And here's the best bit. We can steal 
one of Anastasia's new ScatBra-E's, she's got about six spares. Once Goofy 
gets up to about a hundred inches or so, she'll be able to get Staze's bra on, 
and we won't need to have her measured properly, we'll have a continuous 
readout of her size. And if she gets too big for Anastasia's bra, we'll know 
there's no upper limit, and it will be all right to make Anastasia a little bit 
bigger than Toria! Simple!"

Pansy wondered where the flaw was in this breathtaking argument, but 
she couldn't find it at all.

"No, we can't do it!" she said.

"Trust me, Pan. It will be all right!"


**********

Corinne and I made it up later. I suppose with only one bed in the room, 
it's hard to stay mad at anyone for ever, especially when you're both 
frothing for a Big Number Sixty-nine. I tried not talking to her for a while, 
and she stuck her nose in the air and said nothing to me. We lasted about 
ten minutes.

"Shannie," she said.

"Yes?"

"It was a crazy idea you had, but I still love you!"

Sod the bitch, I thought. Make her stew in her own juice for a few more 
hours. Ignore her. Remain aloof. Wait until she's really sorry. Let her 
suffer.

"And I love you, Cee! Ever so much."

And we met in a flurry of discarded clothing and undergarments. Several 
hours later, in the darkness, we talked about my plan again.

"We have to do something, Shan, but I'm against messing around 
chemically with the girls any more. Perhaps it's because of my own 
experiences with the Second Form Sexual Chemistry Group, but I don't feel 
happy with FatLite and Shrink."

"What would you suggest, then?"

"Let's identify the problem. If we don't make Anastasia any bigger and we 
don't try and stop Victoria growing, what is the problem? Victoria is a 
terrible choice as Head Girl. Anastasia is a more gentle person altogether 
and she would be better, we think."

"That's right. That's why we need to reverse their chemistry and make 
Anastasia bigger than Toria."

"Not necessarily. Why does EITHER of them have to be Head Girl?"

"Because they're the biggest-busted girls in the school."

"No they're not."

"They're the biggest-busted girls in the school who are slim enough to 
wear the Scarlet Sash!"

"That's better, Shannie, now you're thinking. So let's find another girl 
altogether and make HER the most highly-qualified candidate instead."

"A different girl?"

"A nice, placid, gentle, caring girl who will treat all her schoolmates with 
respect. A girl overflowing with the milk of human kindness."

"That's a tall order, Cee."

"No, I'm sure we can find someone suitable. Let's sleep on it now, and by 
morning, we might find all our problems solved."

"Sleep, Cee? But I want you so much."

"Shannie, darling. It must be all this thinking, but I've got a bit of a 
headache right now ..."


**********

I was awakened by the sound of Anastasia's door very early next morning. 
She seemed to be in and out of her room half a dozen times shortly after 
dawn, which was unlike her. By the time we got up and I peered into her 
room, her bed was neatly made and she had gone. Her uniform wasn't on 
its hanger, and the usual row of bras hanging over the top of the wardrobe 
door seemed to be shorter than usual, suggesting either that she was 
wearing three bras or she had taken a couple to the dry cleaner's.

"No sign of her," I reported to Corinne. "Did you hear her getting up this 
morning?"

"Not a sound, I must have slept through it."

"You were snoring like a piglet."

"I do not snore, Shan!"

"Oh, you do. Especially these days now you have to sleep on your back, you 
are really disgustingly loud."

"Shannie." Corinne sounded dangerous. "I have slept on my back since I 
was twelve. I have really had no option. And if anyone snores in here, it is 
you."

There's no reasoning with her these days. Perhaps she's going through the 
change a bit early.

I made my excuses and headed for the restaurant. There were some 
people I had to see.


**********

"Clark? Oh, it's you, darling!"

"Anastasia, darling!"

"Oooh, Clark!"

"Oooooh, AnasTASia!" 

"I brought a blanket."

"So did I."

"Did anyone see you getting out of Lord Ted's?"

"No, it was still dark."

"How will you get back?"

"I'll run across the fields. It's only ten miles each way across the fields."

"Oh, Clark. You ran ten miles just for little me!"

"Darling. I would run a thousand miles for you ...!"

Mercifully for the reader, the rest of the conversation was similar and can 
be safely ignored.

"Take care, darling," Anastasia whispered to her lover as he pulled up his 
running shorts over his aching gonads and took a few limping steps to test 
the equipment.

"And you, my precious."

"Tomorrow, same time, sweetness? I am so horny now. Even after two 
hours of love-making with you. I need you every day or I will explode!"

Clark nervously backed away a few paces.

"Not now, darling. In fact, the good news is that I've stopped growing. I 
may even be a little smaller." Anastasia finished buttoning her immense 
blouse and checked that her ScatBra-E was switched on. "Look," she said, 
pointing to the readout card. "I am getting smaller. 138-21-33. Will you 
still love me now my bust is only 138 inches, Clark, darling?"

"Darling, Anastasia, I would still love you even if your bust was only a 
hundred and twenty!"

Anastasia felt a flood of love surge through her loins at these caring words 
from her darling Clark.

"Take care, my love."

She stood on tiptoe, crushing her breasts against his running shorts and 
bare thighs, and amid a clinking of glasses, the young lovers exchanged a 
hot, moist kiss.

"See you tomorrow, same time. Here, don't forget the blanket."

And she watched him with a deep sigh as he loped carefully off into the 
bushes. She couldn't hear the groans of agony as his balls jangled against 
each other in his sopping wet jock-strap.

"The things we men do in the name of love," he moaned as he clambered 
painfully over the stile leading to the path through the dewy wet cow-
parsley back to Lord Edward's.





Chapter 9:- Exploring The Upper Limit


Anastasia's short white socks were wet from the dewy grass. Her blanket 
was soaked. Her back felt damp from her last triumphal session with Clark. 
She dropped her well-soiled knickers into the appropriate collection slot as 
she passed through the doors and bounced up the stairs to her bedroom.

Tired but happy, she lay on her bed thinking of Clark. Whatever Pansy had 
put in that stuff a couple of days ago, it had certainly given Anastasia the 
most Uncontrollable Horniness she had ever experienced. Wow! 
Fortunately, she had managed to contact Clark and told him to meet her in 
the St Cat's woods at dawn. To Clark's dismay, she made it clear that she 
wanted him every morning at the same time. If Lord Ted's hadn't been so 
far away, she would probably have insisted on having him in the evenings 
too.

The bed shuddered, rattling against the wall. Five minutes later Anastasia 
sat up, shivering, and staggered on rubbery legs to the dressing table for 
clean underwear. She tucked three more pairs into her purse, adjusted her 
shoulder straps and checked her readout card. 136 inches. Getting smaller.

And she found that she didn't really care. True, it was a disappointment 
not being Head Girl, and Victoria was a dreadful tyrant, but Anastasia had 
her love, and the prospect of having Clark every morning. As she floated 
down the stairs and headed for her first class of the day, she worked on a 
plan to introduce Clark to her bedroom. The woods were quite romantic in 
the early morning, but they were a bit damp now Autumn was coming on. 
Next morning, she said to herself, she would meet her lover outside and 
bring him in. After that, he would be able to find his own way in up the 
back stairs. He would open her bedroom door and wake her with a kiss ...


**********

"Did you see her this morning? She's even bigger!" Pansy gasped as soon as 
Head Girl Victoria had stormed out of the Second Form dormitory after 
overturning the beds of two girls who were a fraction of a second slow at 
getting out of bed and standing to attention to chant, "Good MOR-NING, 
Staff!" as soon as she came in with her whip and top hat.

"And where did she get those thigh-length boots?" Suzanne sat down 
carefully, feeling the bruise on her buttock where Victoria had landed a 
telling blow.

"Must have belonged to the Drama Group, they have all sorts of stuff like 
that. It's where she got her hat from, and that transparent blouse. But her 
tits are even bigger, and her nipples! I couldn't get close enough to see her 
numbers ..."

"I did," said Suzanne glumly. She whispered in her cousin's ear.

"Oh, God, no! That's miles bigger than Staze now. She'll never catch up."

"All the more reason to try out our plan on Goofy. Once she's up to 
Anastasia's size, we'll see if she stops growing and starts to get smaller, too. 
Have you got the FatLite?"

"Are you sure about this, Suze? I'm not happy."

"Just do it. As soon as the others go to brekkers, grab Goof and we'll do her 
tits."


**********

Fortunately, there was plenty of FatLite in the lab stores. Some of it was 
old stock, and some of it was perhaps a little bit suspect, but for my 
purposes, any batch would work. All I needed was to enlarge a girl to the 
maximum. As soon as she was bigger than Victoria, she would 
automatically become the new Head Girl.

I had even picked out my girl. A sexy, friendly girl, already very well 
endowed so it wouldn't take more than a couple of heavy applications of 
FatLite to get her up to a competitive size. With any luck, Victoria would 
be unseated by the end of the week.

The FatLite tubs were stacked in the little store room. No mistakes, now. I 
checked and double-checked on the labels and the contents before 
carefully replacing the lid of the plastic tub. Then I placed a tub of face 
cream on top of the FatLite, and backed out with my load into the 
laboratory. It took a few seconds to conceal the tubs beneath the teacher's 
desk, then I hurried out, my heart thumping, to the Fourth Form classroom 
to await the arrival of the first class of the day.


**********

"Amy, please stay behind after the class, I want a word with you."

The other girls giggled and rolled their eyes.

"Yes, Miss," drawled Sexy Amy in a bored voice, and lounged against my 
desk, gazing round the room, sighing theatrically until all the other girls 
had left. Her manner changed instantly. "Hi, Miss," she said, leaning 
forward so her breasts squashed against my desk top. "You wanted me?"

I began to wonder if Sexy Amy would make an ideal Head Girl. Scarcely a 
good example to the younger ones. She wiggled round the desk and 
plastered herself against me, and I shuddered in helpless arousal.

"Gosh, Miss, you're really hot, aren't you? Here, let me help ..."

"NO! Sorry, Amy ..." I recovered my composure a little. "Not just now, thank 
you."

Amy retrieved her hand from up my skirt and looked around for 
somewhere to wipe her fingers. She found nowhere, so she placed them in 
her mouth with every sign of relish.

"How can I help you, Miss Gruntworthy?" 

"Would you like me to rub your big breasts, Amy?"

I couldn't believe I had just said that. I mean, it was what I had meant to 
say, approximately, but it had come out as a lust-filled croak.

"NOT NOW, AMY!" I yelled, trying to stop her ripping off her blouse. "Later. 
In my room. I am free at eleven this morning and Miss Meadowlark is 
teaching, so we will have the room to ourselves."

"All right, Miss," said Amy wonderingly. "I've got English Smut, but I can 
get off ..."

"I'll arrange all that. Don't worry. I want you every day this week, please."

"Gosh, Miss. I'll enjoy that. Are you going to rub my great big titties every 
day?"

"Oooh, yes, Amy, yes!" There I went again. Get a grip of yourself, 
Gruntworthy. 

"I'll look forward to that, Miss. Will that be all for now?"

"I'm afraid so, yes."

"Never mind, Miss. See you soon. Very soon!"


**********

Three quarters of an hour later, I could still taste my own juices from 
Amy's tongue where she kissed me goodbye after our little chat, could still 
feel where her eye-lashes had trembled against my cheek like butterflies.

My heart was thumping, and not just with the effort of carrying the two 
plastic tubs up the stairs to my room.

Amy was early. She was obviously as eager as I was.

"Here I am, Miss! Here, how do you like my new perfume?" She had 
already removed her tie and unbuttoned the top nine or ten buttons of her 
blouse. To demonstrate her fragrance, she squeezed her breasts together 
from underneath as if trying to push them up out of her bra into my face.

Whatever that perfume was, it was certainly effective. My head spun, my 
eyes watered and I became instantly wet.

"Bloody hell, Amy, what is that stuff?"

"Miss Mountains's Fragrances Class invented it, Miss. It might still be a 
little bit too highly concentrated for the general public, but it's okay if you 
know what you're doing."

Amy knew what she was doing, all right. In seconds, I was naked and on 
my back on the bed, one knee against the wall, the other one flat on the 
bed. My reflection in the dressing table mirror gave some indication of the 
sheer size of my pussy, and I blushed for shame.

"You're so big, Miss," said Amy in admiration. "All of you is so big. Not like 
these skinny little schoolgirls. You are a mature woman. I love mature 
women!"

She set out to prove her point. I think she succeeded.

It was only in the last five minutes before lunch that I remembered the 
purpose of inviting Amy to my room. It was a bit of an unseemly rush to 
cream Amy's breasts after that, but I succeeded, just about.

"Hi, Miss Meadowlark!" Amy sighed dreamily as the door opened and 
Corinne edged into the room. Looking over my shoulder, I saw she had 
raised an enquiring eyebrow.

"Almost finished, Cee!" I explained, not very satisfactorily. 

"Miss Gruntworthy has been rubbing my breasts. They were very sore 
when I woke up this morning. I think they're growing again. Do they look 
any bigger to you, Miss Meadowlark?" 

"Not yet, Amy," she said, her eyes narrowed menacingly. I saw the danger 
signals and patted Amy on the bottom to make her get off the bed. We 
both struggled into our clothing again and Amy switched on her bra and 
panties, eagerly looking at her readout card.

"Hey, not bad," the girl said with justifiable pride. "An inch bigger than this 
morning already!"

No wonder, I thought, with her nipples sticking out like that.

"See you later, Amy," I promised, and sent her on her way.

Corinne glared at me and sighed heavily.

"Well, Shannie. Caught red-handed again! So what's the story this time?"


**********

"Are my boobs going to get bigger, Suzanne?" 

"Probably, Goof. But it's just with the rubbing and stimulation. We're not 
giving you anything to make them grow."

"Good. 'Cos I'd get horribly embarrassed if they got big like yours and 
Pansy's. Or if they started giving milk like Shona. That would be terrible. 
I'd go all red ..."

"Goofy, be an angel and turn over on your back. How can Pansy rub your 
breasts like that?"

"But people will see!"

"There's nobody else here but the three of us," said Pansy. "Turn over or 
we'll be here all week."

Goofy reluctantly rolled on to her back, revealing her small mounds. Pansy 
plastered them with FatLite and began to rub vigorously. Embarrassingly, 
Goofy began to moan like a lovesick fog-horn.

"Shut up, for Christ's sake. You'll have half the school in here."

"But it feels so nice, it makes my twinkle tingle."

Pansy stopped rubbing. "Your what?"

"My twinkle," Goofy blushed out loud, if one can imagine such a thing. 
"Down there."

"I can imagine," said Suzanne, mischievously taking a small handful of 
FatLite and daubing it on Goofy's twinkle.

"You shouldn't have done that, Suze," Pansy scolded her cousin.

"It will never show, once her you-know-what's start dangling down there, 
they'll hide everything."

"It's not the appearance I'm thinking about. We don't want an 
Uncontrollably Horny Goofy about the place, do we? Like Miss Mountains?"

"Oh, I don't know, Pan. It might liven things up a bit! Anyway, it's done 
now." Just to make sure, Suzanne rubbed another dollop of cream into 
Goofy's unused genitalia, bringing a keening cry from the girl's throat.

"Stop it, Suze!" Pansy pushed her cousin away and stood over Goofy's 
twitching body to repel boarders. "She's finished. We'll see you at bedtime 
and cream you with plain cream. It's like a moisturiser to stop your skin 
drying out. It will feel lovely."

"Oooh, yes, it will feel lovely, Pan!"

"Quick, Goof, get lost before Suzanne does something horrible to you. She 
could do anything when she's in this mood."

Goofy scrambled to her feet in the little storeroom and crouched down to 
present a smaller target for the cousins' eyes, despite their having seen 
Goofy in grim detail not moments before. Somehow, she crawled into her 
clothes while squatting on the floor, then shot out of the room without 
remembering to switch on her pants and bra.


**********

It was late afternoon when I finished my First Form Elementary Science 
class and hurried back to the bedroom. I was on the point of opening the 
door when I heard a noise coming from round the corner in Smegs's room. 
It was the sound of an imminent orgasm of the female persuasion. Not 
wishing to be left out, I crept to her door and pushed it gently. It opened.

"Oh, hi, Miss Gruntworthy!"

"Hello, Amy. We seem to be seeing a lot of each other lately. There was a 
lot of Amy to see. Stark naked, she was kneeling astride Smegs who was 
lying face down on the bed. It was like a scene from an old-fashioned 
manual on resuscitation. The Holger-Neilson Method, or something. The 
noise of impending orgasm was coming from Smegs.

There appeared to be creaming in progress.

"Whatcha doin'?" I asked Amy, who had resumed her duties with her usual 
enthusiasm.

"Creaming Miss Mountains, Miss Gruntworthy," she said with commendable 
formality and respect for the teaching staff. No first names for Amy, even 
at moments of extreme passion.

"What are you using on her?" I was appalled at the thought of Smegs 
suddenly growing a vast bust after resisting chemical enhancement for so 
long.

"Dunno, really, Miss," Sexy Amy panted. "Just some stuff Miss Mountains 
had in her room. In fact, it was spray, really, but Miss wanted it rubbed in, 
so I squirted the spray into a jar of face cream and stirred it with a spoon. 
There it is, on the dressing table."

I inspected the large jar of face cream. It was almost empty and there was 
a stainless steel teaspoon in it. The spoon, I was interested to note, had 
turned bright green. The word 'Gosh' seemed appropriate.

"Gosh!" I said. I replaced the spoon in the jar and watched it crumple and 
bend under its own weight. "That's some powerful stuff."

"Miss Mountains has got a date tonight, and she wanted to feel at her best." 
Amy redoubled her efforts as Smegs yelped, moaned and farted, more or 
less simultaneously. "It's either Love or Fuck, that's why she wanted it 
rubbed on below the waist. She says that's where the core of her being is 
situated, Miss."

"I can believe that, Amy."

I couldn't watch any more. It was too painful. As I made my way back to 
the bedroom, I found myself wondering quite why Sexy Amy needed to be 
fully undressed to rub cream on Smegs's taut and muscular rump. It was 
most disturbing watching the girl's thighs and back muscles rippling as she 
applied the cream with her powerful and experienced forearms and wrists. 
They would probably make love afterwards, I thought. How did they find 
the time? Did nobody ever do any lessons or homework at this so-called 
school?

With these thoughts spinning through my mind, I was totally unprepared 
for the scene which confronted me when I opened my own bedroom door.





Part IV





Chapter 10:- The Scarlet Sash


"Corinne?"

Who else could it be, after all? Even in her newly compact bust 
configuration, Corinne was wholly unmistakeable for anyone else, even 
from behind. She was wearing her favourite Microbus dress and bending 
over a figure on the bed.

Her expression as she turned at the sound of my voice bore unmistakeable 
traces of guilt.

"Shan. It's you."

"Of course it's me. Who did you expect?" I took a pace or two to the right, 
to see who was on the bed, but Corinne outmanoeuvred me by taking one 
step in the same direction. I tried to look in the dressing table mirror, but 
there was a bra hanging over it. It was one of the biggest bras I had ever 
seen, with cups each big enough comfortably to hold a week's garbage for a 
family of six. I'll tell you how big it was, not only did one cup completely 
hide the dressing table mirror, the other cup completely covered the top of 
the dressing table. It was a very big bra indeed, in a relatively attractive 
shade of milk chocolate brown.

When I say it would hold a week's garbage for a family of six, this is not 
meant to imply that the bra contained any garbage, it was just to give an 
indication of the size. In fact, despite its shitty colour, it was a remarkably 
clean bra.

"You're back early," Corinne said, inching back to her left to outflank me 
again.

"No, it's nearly half past four. I was wondering if you were coming over to 
the restaurant for tea, but obviously time flies when you're enjoying 
yourself." I took a full stride to the right again, but Corinne's right breast 
hid the view as effectively as an advertising hoarding or a screen of 
Leylandii. Cassandra had told me that Baps has planted a screen of 
Leylandii round her girl-dairy to stop the milk girls looking out at the 
boys. Sorry. Look, if my digressions disturb you, just tell me, and I'll get on 
with the story.

"Oh, is it that time already?" Corinne admitted weakly. "Why don't you go 
on over, and I'll see you in ten minutes?"

"No, it's all right," I said, "I'll hang on until you're finished whatever you're 
doing."

And I ducked back to the left to try and see round Corinne on that side. No 
dice. At that moment there was a polite knock on the kitchen door and 
Anastasia put her head round it.

"Hi, Miss. I was just going over for tea and wondered if you'd like me to 
fetch yours since you're busy."

Corinne gave a little squeak of alarm and tried to take a step to her right 
again to cut off Anastasia's view, but she was too late.

"Hi, Cassandra," the girl said, coming over to the bedside. "Golly, you're 
even bigger than I thought! You're immense!"

Corinne groaned, and admitted defeat. She backed away, leaving me with a 
view of Cassandra on her back on the bed, her mountainous breasts having 
that well-rubbed glow we knew and loved.

Anastasia crept closer. "Look at the size of those things. They make mine 
look as small as Clark's!"

What parts of Cassandra I could see appeared to be blushing prettily.

"Hi, Miss, hi Anastasia," she murmured shyly. "I heard you come in, Miss, 
but Miss Meadowlark told me not to say anything and you might not notice 
I was here and just go away."

Oh, Corinne, I thought, how could you?

"I'm being creamed all over," Cassandra told us in a pleased little voice. "It 
was supposed to be just my tummy and stuff down that way, but Miss 
Meadowlark did my boobs as well. It won't matter if they get a bit smaller, 
too, they're a bit too big really."

"Shrink?" I asked Corinne, with a raised eyebrow.

She nodded. "It's good Shrink. I supervised the mixing of it myself. None of 
the Second Form Sexual Chemistry Group was involved, apart from Shona."

That ought to have reassured me, but it didn't. There was something about 
Shrink that made me feel less than confident about it. The only lasting 
effect the stuff had ever had was to make things twice as big as they had 
been before.

"Did Shona provide the milk, Cee?"

"No, she'd just been done, and there was none left after I drank it, so we 
used cow. With a little bit of sugar. Shona said it's just as good as the real 
thing."

"You drank Shona's milk then used cow in the formula?"

"Mmmm, yes. Delicious, it was, too, straight from the nipple. We both got 
quite turned on while I was drinking it."

"Yes, I imagine you did." What had come over Corinne? She was as bad as 
the Second Form Sexual Chemistry Group girls, slurping Shona-milk, then 
casually substituting the totally unacceptable cow-and-sugar mixture that 
caused more trouble than anything else.

And now, she had rubbed the ghastly muck all over Cassandra, who was 
not only already mountainous, but had the most preposterously huge 
breasts imaginable. And she was no age at all.

All I could do was shake my head sadly at Corinne. It gave me no pleasure 
when tears of defeat sprang into her eyes. No pleasure at all.


**********

"They're much bigger this morning, Pan. Look at them!"

Suzanne cupped Goofy's breasts and tossed them up and down. In fact, she 
tossed them up, they came down on their own in a fairly decisive manner.

"They're a bit long and dangly, Suze," Pansy said critically, heedless of the 
tearful Goofy who stood helplessly naked in the chilly store room.

"She can't help the way she's made, can she? Maybe they'll get firmer as 
we make them bigger."

"Do you think we ought to?" Pansy looked thoughtfully at Goofy's 
unalluring figure. "We could stop now. She's not really the right shape for 
this, is she?"

Goofy began to cry out loud.

"Nah, she'll be okay," Suzanne had to raise her voice above Goofy's sobbing 
and wailing. "Another three or four days of this and she'll be bigger than 
Toria. She's done well. Who'd have expected her to grow this much in two 
days?" To demonstrate, she picked up one of Goofy's breasts and tried to 
control it with both hands. "Shit! It's ever so cold, like a lump of meat from 
the fridge." The lump of meat escaped and thudded down on to the poor 
girl's stomach.

"Oof!" she gasped, and began to cry again wretchedly. Neither of the two 
cousins held Goofy in a comforting hug and whispered reassuring words to 
her. Instead, Suzanne peeled the lid off the plastic container of another tub 
of FatLite and dipped both hands into it. "Splat, splat!" it went and Goofy's 
crying rose another couple of notches.

"Shut her up, Pan. I've got both hands full."

"How am I supposed to shut her up? Pansy yelled over the din.

"There's no need to shout," bawled Suzanne. Her voice echoed in the 
sudden silence. Goofy had stopped crying. To the girls' amazement, she 
began to moan in ecstasy. Her eyes closed and she growled in her throat 
and gave urgent little whimpering sounds in time to Suzanne's rubbing.

"Yessss. Make them bigger, Suze," Goofy whispered, reaching out to put an 
arm round Suzanne's neck. "Make them the biggest boobs in the world! 
Kiss me, Suzanne!"

"Get off!" Suzanne squealed, and backed away into a corner. Goofy followed 
her, holding her arms wide and opening her mouth for the attack. "Pansy, 
do something! She's gone mad!"

"I'm not going near her," said Pansy, "you've given her the Uncontrollable 
Horniness now. She'll eat you alive. Let's get out of here and lock the door 
until she cools off."

"Easier said than done, cousin," grunted Suzanne, but her superior body 
weight prevailed in the struggle and she pushed Goofy away. She cannoned 
off the storage racks and a number of containers of chemicals came 
clattering down.

"Let's go, quick," Pansy shouted, grabbing Suzanne by the wrist.

They locked the door carefully from the outside and Pansy dropped the 
key into her cleavage.

"Fucking hell, that was close," Suzanne panted. "We'd better give her an 
hour to chill out. Next time, I'll hold her arms from behind, and you can do 
the rubbing."

"Next time?" Pansy asked.

"We've got to go through with this, Pan. It's just a bit of Uncontrollable 
Horniness! It won't last."

Shaken, the girls set off for their next class.

Meanwhile, in the Second Form Sexual Chemistry Group laboratory store 
room, Goofy's bout of Uncontrollable Horniness was already easing. With 
some interest, she investigated the contents of the family sized tub of 
FatLite that Suzanne had left on the floor. With her breasts dangling 
heavily, she leaned forward, dipped a finger into it and sniffed it 
cautiously. Then with a smile, she took a really big handful.


**********

Anastasia was falling asleep at her desk. Earlier, Clark had declined her 
suggestion that he came indoors for a couple of hours love-making in 
Anastasia's bed.

"Someone will hear us," he had said. "We'd both be expelled. Our Mums 
would kill
us!"

Anastasia had wondered why that sounded so familiar, but being assailed 
by a rising tide of lust, she had quickly spread the blankets on the mossy 
floor of the woodland glade and made the most of what she had.

Later, as they lay quietly - or relatively quietly - she had asked him again.

"Let's do it in bed tomorrow morning. Please, Clark. I love you so much. 
Every minute you are away from me, I play with my rude bits. Come to 
my room tomorrow, please!"

"It's too risky. If we got expelled, we'd probably never see each other 
again."

"We could get married!" Anastasia had proposed boldly.

Clark had gone pale. Fortunately, it had been too dark in the woods for 
Anastasia to see. As she tucked his blanket under his arm and sent him on 
his way back to Lord Ted's with a tender kiss, she had whispered, "See you 
tomorrow, darling! Same time, same place."

Now, at her desk, trying to keep awake, Anastasia attempted to replay the 
whole conversation in her head. For the life of her, she couldn't remember 
what Clark's answer had been.


**********

"May I have a word with you, Victoria, please?" 

It was the end of classes for the day and Corinne had asked me a favour. I 
still could not believe her plan. It was too outrageous. But with Victoria 
still getting bigger - and I could see that from where I was sitting - and 
Anastasia apparently getting smaller, something had to be done as a 
matter of extreme urgency. Corinne's plan was outrageous, but it was all 
we had.

"How can I help you, Miss?" Victoria even said that with a condescending 
sneer. Arrogantly, she placed her top hat on my desk and leaned against 
the blackboard, stroking her nipples with the end of her riding crop. Its 
handle had been extended, I noticed.

"Would you mind just taking your sash off for a moment, Toria?"

Her eyes widened in surprise, but she said nothing. After a moment or two, 
she reached down, working by feel, untying the knot of the Scarlet Sash. 
The sash of office. She draped it on the desk in front of me then strolled 
back to her lounging position again.

I had to work fast. I laid one end of the sash flush with the edge of the 
desk and placed a pencil at the other end to mark the length. Then as 
casually as possible I picked up the scarlet material and pressed it against 
my cheek.

"It feels so familiar, Toria," I said in tones of mournful reminiscence. "I 
used to wear this very Scarlet Sash when I was Head Girl."

"You were Head Girl of St Cat's, Miss?" Victoria had a tear gleaming in her 
eye, as if she was feeling her place in a long unbroken line of tradition.

"For one year, yes!"

"Good job Miss Meadowlark wasn't here, then. Her tits are ten times as big 
as yours!"

And before I could do anything, Victoria snatched the sash from my 
fingers and strolled from the room without another word.

I was so shocked, I almost forgot to measure the distance from the pencil 
to the edge of the desk. The length of the Scarlet Sash.


**********

"So it's this long, Shan?"

"That's right. The same length as that piece of string."

"And it has to be knotted, which would take up about this much ..." Corinne 
measured the string again and subtracted eighteen inches or so. She 
pursed her lips. "It's going to be a problem," she said.

"It used to fit me," I said ruefully.

"It wouldn't now." Corinne's voice was unforgiving. "And no way will it fit 
Cassandra. The trouble is with Cass, she's so big and tall. It's going to be a 
struggle to get her waist down to ..." she held out the tape measure again 
"... twenty-eight inches at the biggest."

"Twenty-eight? You'll never get Cass down to that. She'd snap in half."

"That's a risk we'll have to take. I saw her earlier, anyway, and she said 
she's started getting smaller already. Not enough to notice, just a feeling 
that her skirt feels loose on her."

"Has her readout changed?"

"It broke! Didn't we tell you? Apparently her ScatBra-E gave up reading on 
the first afternoon, and without the bra input, the ScatPants just give 
gibberish numbers. Apparently, the bra provides the datum that the pants 
lock on to."

"Oh, really?" I said politely. "How very ingenious. So we're going to have to 
measure Cassandra by hand at regular intervals?"

"Clit has an engineer in working on the problem. They will probably fix it 
pretty quick. They thought it might be an electromagnetic compatibility 
problem exacerbated by the length of the bra cup underwires being a 
precise multiple of a quarter-wavelength of one of the harmonics of the 
micro-transmitter which sends the signals from the bra to the readout 
card."

"Of course. Why did no one think of that?"

"I suppose no one expected to find such huge underwires in a girl's school," 
said Corinne seriously. "After all, Cassandra is no age at all."





Chapter 11:- Miss Thunderbolt On The Case


"We're getting some funny readings, Miss Thunderbolt!"

Clit studied an enormous computer screen in an inner room of the bra 
facility. Miss Thunderbolt leaned eagerly forward and peered at the 
scrolling pages of figures.

"These are the readings from every one of the girls' measurements 
transmitters? And this is the bust column?" she asked.

"That's right." Clit hit a few keys and the figures scrolled up the screen. 
"Now this was a few days ago. Look at Anastasia, just there. She was near 
as dammit 140, allowing for normal heavy breathing. She stayed at 140 for 
a number of hours, then her readings started to diminish. By Monday ..." 
Clit scrolled down "... by Monday afternoon, she was down to 132. But look 
at this. She gets up in the morning and she's reading 134. That's normal 
enough, given the time of the month. But then the reading goes down to 
zero, suggesting that she's switched off her bra, ten minutes after she's got 
dressed. Strange, or what?"

"Very odd," mused Miss Thunderbolt. "What time was this?"

Clit studied the screen closely. "Half past four. Half past FOUR?"

"And she takes her bra off ten minutes later. What time does she come 
back on line?"

"About quarter to seven. Same time as most of the other girls are getting 
dressed. There they are, all switching on."

"I see." Miss Thunderbolt stroked her chin thoughtfully. "What do you 
think, Clit?"

"You want my honest opinion?"

"Don't pull any punches, Clit!"

"I reckon she's got a boyfriend. She gets up in the morning, gets dressed, 
then meets him, ten minutes away from her bedroom, fucks him rotten for 
two hours, then gets dressed again and goes to school. Cheeky little bitch!"

"Lucky little bitch," said Miss Thunderbolt. "Keep an eye on the readings. 
Tell me if she stops seeing him."

"She has," said Clit simply.

"She did WHAT?"

"She saw him for four mornings, but not this morning. Look. Up at the 
usual time. Twenty minutes later, twenty-five, half an hour, still the same 
reading, about 128 inches. Then she goes off line, and comes back on at 
nearly seven o' clock. Late for breakfast. Naughty little Anastasia!" 

"You reckon he didn't show this morning?"

"Looks like it."

"Poor kid. Serve her fucking right." Miss Thunderbolt turned away from 
the screen, then spun round again. "What did you say she's reading now?"

"128, why?"

"Look." Miss Thunderbolt pointed at the screen again. "What's the sample 
rate?"

"It's set to five minutes at the moment," said Clit.

"Can you cut it down a bit finer than that? A minute, say, or a few 
seconds?"

"Sure. Easy." Clit banged at the keys. "Right, would ten seconds do you?" 
She hit 'enter' and the display changed.

"Hold it there," shouted Miss Thunderbolt. "Look at the figures now. 
Anastasia's  figures? Can you check that they're really hers?"

"They are, look, there's her bra code. All her bras are programmed from 
the moment she switched on for the first time. Anastasia is 
22002200035789120-00000-00000-00000."

"Yep. I recognise the number now you mention it. Now look," said Miss 
Thunderbolt. "128, steady, down to here, then it jumps to 159. Back to 128, 
then 159 again for a couple of samples. Then again here, 160, 161 even. 
It's too regular to be noise on the signal. What time was that?"

"Just after ten this morning. Anastasia was in Biology, according to the 
machine."

"That's right, dammit!" Miss Thunderbolt thumped her fist in the palm of 
her hand, hurting herself only slightly. "Biology, in the old Junior classroom 
down by the main entrance. As far away from here as it's possible to get. A 
weak signal. What would happen if another one of Anastasia's bras was 
left switched on?"

"Nothing, it's not connected to her readout."

"But what if one of Anastasia's bras was connected to another girl's readout 
and then switched on ...?"

"Why should that happen, Miss?" Clit screwed up her nose, then faltered as 
she thought about it. "Oh, my God! It would give a reading exactly as if 
Anastasia was wearing the bra herself. And, since it's an FM system, if she 
was sending out a stronger signal than the equipment Anastasia was 
wearing ... oh, shit, Miss! We can cure it. It will just need a few lines of 
code or something. It will be fixed by next week ...!"

"No, Clit. Let's not fix it for a while. Somewhere, somewhere not too far 
away, perhaps, a girl is reading ... 159 inches. Let's see her Pants reading 
as well."

Clit obliged.

"There," Miss Thunderbolt announced triumphantly. "Whoever is giving 
this weak and wobbly signal has measurements of something like 159-22-
29. That is definitely Head Girl material. Excellent work, Clit! You did well. 
I'm going to be a detective for a few hours!"


**********

"They're fucking huge, Pan! Let's carry on FatLitening her over the 
weekend!"

"We can't. That bra is nearly bursting already. Another day at this rate and 
it will explode."

Suzanne snorted. "When did you ever see a bra explode? Or a girl for that 
matter? If it gets too tight, we'll leave it off."

"We can't," said Pansy. "She can't even stand up as it is! They're down to 
the floor already. Do you think she rubbed some more on herself when she 
first got the Uncontrollable Horniness? I never saw anyone grow like 
Goofy."

"She might have done. Who knows what she gets up to when we lock the 
door and leave her alone in the store room. She could be rubbing all 
manner of stuff on her tits."

"We have to get her out of the store room, then, Suze. She'll do some 
damage to herself in there."

"No chance," said Suzanne. "Her tits are too big for her to walk. And if she 
wears a bra, somebody is going to notice. You can't disguise tits that big. 
We have to keep hiding her, or Miss Thunderbolt will make her Head Girl. 
Let's just cream her for the weekend. If we can get her to go just a teeny 
bit bigger - say another fifty inches - we'll have proved our point. There is 
no upper limit. All we need then is to do the same to Anastasia."

"You mean lock her in the store room full of Sexual Chemicals? Anastasia is 
going to think that's a great idea. Not! She's unhappy enough as it is today."

"What's up with her, anyway? She's moping and crying all over the place?"

Pansy pulled a long face. "Boyfriend trouble. She's been seeing Clark in the 
mornings. This morning, he didn't show up. She said she hung around in 
the woods, then went back to bed for a good cry."

"Serves her right, the randy bitch. I sometimes wonder why we're 
bothering doing all this just for her!"

Pansy opened her mouth to say something. Then she closed it again.


**********

"Please, Miss. Can I go back to my room? I've got a tummy-ache."

Anastasia stood forlornly in front of my desk. She looked downhearted, 
crestfallen even.

"What's the matter, darling," I asked her softly. "Is it that time again?"

Anastasia looked at her watch. "What time, Miss?"

"No, is your period due?"

"No, Miss. That was last week. My boobs were ever so full and heavy, but 
they're better now. I think I prefer them not too big, Miss, even if it does 
mean not being Head Girl. There's such a thing as being too big, Miss."

One had to agree with her, on the whole. "Have you seen Clark lately?"

She went bright red and her eyes filled with tears. I stood up and told the 
class to carry on for a moment. "Anastasia is unwell. I will be back soon." 
And I led the girl out of the classroom.

She poured out the whole story to me in the corridor. By the end, I was 
crying more than she was. We gave each other a huge cuddle and I sent 
her back to her room. "Go to bed, darling. Catch up on some sleep. It will be 
something simple. Perhaps the teachers caught him as he was sneaking 
out. He might have pulled a groin muscle or something. Anything! I'll ask 
Miss Mountains. She will know what to do."

"Oh, would you, Miss?" She looked up at me, her eyes shining behind her 
huge glasses.

"Of course. Go on. Off to bed."

We would invent some story. Four mornings, running ten miles each way 
with two hours of fucking - Anastasia's fucking - in between. It was a 
wonder the poor boy was still alive after a week of that.


**********

"Look out, Pan, it's Miss Thunderbolt!"

"What's she want? She never comes in here!"

"Ah, Pansy. Suzanne. The Woods cousins. Sexual Chemistry class? I thought 
that wasn't until Monday morning."

"Just a special project we're keeping an eye on, Miss," Suzanne quavered, 
blushing deeply and edging away from the store room door.

Pansy found herself with the key in her hand. Too late, she dropped it into 
her cleavage.

"Was that a key, Pansy Woods?"

"No, Miss. Yes, Miss."

"A key to which door, Pansy?" Moggie's eyes slid round to the door of the 
store room.

"Not the store room, Miss, no!" protested Suzanne hastily.

"I never said it was, did I? I merely asked to which door the key 
appertained."

Did real people use words like appertained, Pansy wondered. She felt 
uncomfortable. The key had slid down between her breasts, but had 
carried on down beneath the body band of her bra, which was held away 
from her body by the ever-increasing girth of her grotesquely swollen 
breasts. It had rested briefly on her lump, and Baby had objected with 
what felt like a flying drop-kick. Whatever it was, it had dislodged the key 
which had glissaded down into the crotch of her pants. Pansy was appalled 
to find it gently pressing against her clitoris. Beads of sweat broke out on 
her brow and she groped beneath her various enlarged body parts to try 
and ease the situation.

"What are you doing, Pansy?" Miss Thunderbolt asked, intrigued despite 
herself. A pregnant girl so horny as to be feeling herself up while being 
harassed by her headmistress was obviously a very horny pregnant girl 
indeed.

"The key has gone into my knickers, Miss," Pansy croaked hoarsely.

"Take it out and give it to me, Pansy."

Pansy was suffering so much that she hoisted her skirt without hesitation. 
A few seconds groping by Suzanne produced the key, which she handed to 
Miss Thunderbolt. To both girls' surprise, the headmistress sniffed it with a 
far-away expression.

"Now then." Miss Thunderbolt pulled herself together. "If this is not the 
key to the store room, it will not open the door. If it does open the door, 
there is a security problem, and we will need to change the lock ..."

The key turned easily, and the door opened. The girls hung back while the 
headmistress went inside.

The store room was empty.


**********

"Why did you give them the key, Chauntaille?"

Moggie wasn't at her most fierce. She was looking tired and careworn, and 
she asked the question gently.

"They needed access to supplies at odd hours," I told her. "If you 
remember, I cleared it with you that they could have a key to the stores."

"It was a terrible mess in there. Boxes and containers left open on the 
floor, half used tubs of FatLite and other stuff scattered about the place. I 
told them to clear it up immediately. You should be supervising them more 
closely, Chauntaille. They're only children."

I hung my head in shame at Moggie's criticism. I had failed her again, 
failed the girls in my care, failed St Catherine's High School for Girls. I was 
a failure.

"You have failed me, Chauntaille."

"Yes, Miss!"

"We had better think about a suitable punishment, hadn't we, Chauntaille?"

I felt a glimmer of hope. "Yes, please, Miss."

"Take it down, Chauntaille!" I already had my thumbs in the top of my 
skirt, and I yanked it down in seconds, following it with my ScatPants-E 
and my already sopping knickers. "Come here Chauntaille," said Moggie 
softly. "Let me see how big that bottom of yours is this week. Oh, my, 
Chauntaille, it is HUGE! Shamefully, shamefully huge! Bend over."

Half an hour later, we both felt much better. My disappointment at 
receiving only five minutes of thrashing with a whippy cane - followed by 
a further five minutes of spanking with the flat of Moggie's hand when the 
cane unfortunately snapped - was succeeded by the most intense pleasure 
when my headmistress covered the whole area of discomfort with soothing 
kisses.

"Your bottom is too big for me to kiss better all by myself," she admitted, 
and she sent Miss Labia out to fetch help. The secretary returned almost 
instantly with Sexy Amy, who had been hanging around just outside the 
door in case Miss Thunderbolt needed an experienced Fourth Form girl 
with massive breasts to help kiss Miss Gruntworthy better after her jolly 
good spanking.

So I was in excellent spirits as I made my way back to my room where 
Corinne was waiting with soothing cream for my sore buttocks.

"You could sue her for this, Shan," she said, stroking my bruises gently 
with a feather dipped in rose water.

"I suppose so. If only I didn't enjoy it so much." I thought for a moment. 
"Cee?"

"Yes, Shannie, darling?"

"There was something Moggie was asking me all the time she was spanking 
me. The same question over and over again. She said, 'what have you done 
with the girl you lost?' The same question all the time. What had I done 
with the girl I lost. I haven't lost a girl. What did she mean?"

"Perhaps she wanted to know what you'd done with the girl you lost. Are 
there any girls missing?"

"Shit, Cee! How would I know? We've got two hundred and thirty girls 
here. Dozens of them are in the maternity unit at any one time, dozens 
more are in bed with boys or off around the countryside getting laid. How 
am I supposed to keep an eye on them all. She's headmistress. They're her 
responsibility. Mine is only the Second and Fourth Forms."

"Well how many girls in your forms aren't accounted for? Ask around, see 
if any of the girls know if anyone is missing. They might have missed 
somebody."

"Toots might have sold them to the Pasha Mandingo of Cantelopia," I 
suggested hopefully.

Corinne bristled at the suggestion. "Toots is in my First Form," she insisted. 
"She promised not to sell any girls into sex slavery without asking me first. 
I trust and respect her. Why don't you ask your Victoria? She's Head Girl. 
She'd know if anyone was absent without leave."


**********

"I've been wondering when you were going to ask me that, Miss," sneered 
Victoria unpleasantly. "I suggest you try asking my little pregnant sister 
and her wretched virginal cousin if they know anything about the present 
whereabouts of the girl known as Goofy."

"Goofy's missing? Since when?"

"About a week. I notice these things on my rounds of the dorms. Little 
secrets do not escape my eagle eye, Miss. You should ask me more 
questions, take me into your confidence. I could have told you about 
Anastasia meeting a boy in the woods at dawn if you'd mentioned it. In 
fact, if you asked me, I would tell you she is being rodgered at this very 
moment in the back of a taxi on the way back from Lord Ted's!"

"She is WHAT?"

"She hitched over to Lord Ted's this afternoon when she got off school on 
some feeble pretext, sneaked into the sick bay and found Clark suffering 
from fatigue, sucked him off right there in his bed, then dragged him out 
to a waiting taxi. She is bringing him home to her bed for the weekend. He 
may survive. Of course, it's such a ridiculous fantasy that you will never 
believe it, so when she says she's feeling unwell all weekend, you will 
believe every word she tells you, the little tart."

"Victoria. You are letting your imagination run away with you again."

"Suit yourself, Miss! Now if that's all, I've got work to do."





Chapter 12:- No Age At All


Goofy hadn't turned up over the weekend. She had to be found. We 
couldn't have missing girls all over the place. Suzanne and Pansy looked 
decidedly shifty under questioning.

"Missing? Goofy, Miss?" Suzanne looked as if butter wouldn't melt in her 
mouth.

"No idea, Miss," Pansy confirmed. She looked at me with that placid, cow-
like expression that pregnant women do so well, lacing her fingers together 
and resting them on her belly. The effect was marred only slightly by the 
fact that her breasts overhung her seven and a half month bulge by a 
couple of feet.

I left them to their work and went to investigate the store room for 
myself. It was locked.

"May I have the key to the store, please," I demanded in a no-nonsense 
manner.

"Haven't got it, Miss," said Suzanne. Pansy said nothing, but held her empty 
hands out to the sides. She suddenly gave an involuntary shudder, for all 
the world as if a cold metallic object had slithered down out of her bra on 
to her pregnant belly, been kicked off by an indignant baby and had 
lodged in thecrotch of her knickers in close proximity to the very core of 
her sexuality, her love-bud itself.

"Is the key in your knickers, Pansy?" I asked with a sudden flash of 
inspiration and insight.

Pansy hung her head and blushed.

"Take it out for her, Suzanne."

Suzanne sighed theatrically and found the key immediately. I sniffed it 
briefly then remembered my position of authority.

"Thank you." The lock opened smoothly and the door swung open. No Goofy 
met my gaze as I stared into the gloom. I hadn't really expected to find her 
in there. The room appeared to be clean and tidy. Most of the chemicals 
were neatly stacked on the shelves. I was closing the door behind me 
when a movement caught my eye. It was a sudden brightening inside the 
room as if someone had shone a flashlight on the shelving.

I opened the door again and went in, feeling the hairs on the back of my 
neck stand on end. It was quite a pleasant sensation, as if Corinne was 
running her fingers through the soft hair there. Not now, Chauntaille, I said 
to myself, feeling an inappropriate wetness in my crotch. I fought the 
sensation back by sheer power of will and waited in the semi-darkness. 

There it was again. It was like a light behind the shelves. Then as I 
watched, one of the wall panels, almost hidden by cans of chemicals, 
moved, jiggled itself around, and slid to one side. Light flooded in through 
the aperture, then almost immediately, a dark, shadowy, humped shape 
blocked it out.

A heavy body was struggling through the hole in the wall. It sounded like 
something extra-terrestrial with its stertorous breathing, its sluggish 
movements and its wheezing effort. Two or three times, the effort became 
too much for it and it stopped, apparently resting before the next effort. A 
chill had seized my vitals, yet I stood transfixed. 

Somewhere, not three feet away, was the light switch. What would the 
creature do, how would it react to a sudden flood of light? It was almost 
into the room now, and crawling along the lower shelf toward me, pushing 
aside the tubs of FatLite and cream. I could smell its unearthly fishy odour. 
Panting, it stopped, and I fancied I could see its eyes gleaming pale green 
in the darkness. With a choking cry, I flung myself at the switch and 
turned on the lights.

"Oh, Hi, Miss!"

"Goofy!"

"They locked me out, so I had to get in the hole in the wall, Miss. I only 
went out for a Coke."

"You went out for a Coke, dressed like that?"

Goofy looked down at her self and grinned.

"Don't be daft, Miss. I took my clothes off so they wouldn't get ripped 
coming through the wall. The skirt's mine, but the blouse is one of Shona's. 
This bra belongs to Anastasia, I think, although it's getting a bit stretched 
now."

"You can say that again, Goofy!"

"Okay, Miss. This bra belongs to Anastasia, I think, although it's getting a 
bit stretched now."

I never expected to see one of Anastasia's bras under such stress. At that 
moment, one would have liked to have approached the ScatBra design 
team and shaken them warmly by the hand. Although the material was 
straining itself in every conceivable direction, and pounds of ghostly white 
flesh was protruding from every seam and aperture, the bra was taking it 
all without so much as a creak of protest.

"You are truly immense, Goofy!"

Goofy blushed prettily. "I didn't like them at first when they started to 
grow, but now, since I started rubbing stuff on them myself, they feel 
tremendous. I wouldn't mind if they grew ten times as big. Ooops! I've 
forgotten to switch my bra on. Sorry, Miss! I didn't mean to, honest. Don't 
give me detention, Miss, I'll put my blouse on and switch my bra on 
straight away, Miss ...!"

She rummaged beneath the shelves and emerged clutching an enormous 
blouse. Somehow, the buttons stood the strain as she fastened them. 

"It's all right," I told her, "I'll do the ones at the front."

She stood serenely while I fastened the front dozen or so buttons, the ones 
out of her reach, before she dived her hand into her cleavage and switched 
on her bra. The numbers on her readout card danced and flickered as if 
they couldn't quite believe it, then they settled to an unlikely 165-22-29.

"I think that readout card is faulty, Goofy. We had better have it changed."

"No, it's working, Miss." She scrutinised the upside down figures. "Golly! A 
hundred and sixty five. Wow!"

She seemed pleased.

"Let me see you walk, Goofy." I wasn't altogether sure that she would be 
able to, but she strode around the store like a catwalk supermodel, only 
colliding occasionally with the fixtures and fittings. A few cans and bottles 
were upset and crashed to the floor, but not too many.

The door opened a few inches, then stopped.

"Come in, Pansy," I ordered. After a moment's hesitation, Pansy came in, 
followed by Suzanne. They stood awkwardly side by side.

"Hi!" said Goofy happily. "I came back!"

"You were keeping her locked in here, imprisoned like an animal," I 
accused.

"No, Miss. She escaped on Friday. We thought she'd run away home." 
Suzanne's face was at its most shiningly innocent.

"That's why we didn't tell Miss Thunderbolt about Goofy when she made 
us clear up in here." She looked about her with disgust at the littered 
bottles and spilled chemicals. "I don't know why we bothered. Look at the 
state of this floor."

"Never mind the floor. You can clear that up later, after you have seen Miss 
Thunderbolt and we have decided upon your punishment for falsely 
imprisoning a classmate against her will."

"It wasn't, Miss. She rubbed the chemicals on herself. That's how she got 
that big." Suzanne was bristling with righteous indignation.

"We only wanted to get her up to Anastasia's size," said Pansy. "Maybe a 
little bigger."

"And anyway, Miss." Suzanne's voice had become quieter, more chilling. "If 
you take us to see Miss Thunderbolt, and she sees Goofy, she'll make her 
Head Girl. She's bigger than Toria, easy! Would you want to see Goofy 
become the new Head Girl of St Cat's, Miss?"

I was forced to bite my tongue.

"What are we going to do with her, then? You made her like this. Or at 
least, it was your crazy idea. How are you going to hide her from Miss 
Thunderbolt now she's this size?"

"I don't want to be Head Girl, Miss," said Goofy in a frightened voice. The 
Head Girl has to shout and whip people. I couldn't do that to my friends."

"You could send her home, Miss," Pansy suggested. "Tell her Mum she 
grew."

"She grew? To this ridiculous size?"

"She's not the only one at St Cat's with big tits. You could tell her Mum it's 
probably something in the water."

'Something In The Water'? Wasn't there a story called that once? About 
Dutch instant coffee and water softeners? It made women's tits grow. Not 
very believable, really.

"It's either that or Head Girl, Miss," suggested Suzanne.

"Take it or leave it, Miss," said Pansy.

"We'll arrange everything, Miss." Suzanne had a crafty look in her eyes. 
"We'll get Toots's Nigel to drive her home. Just walk away, Miss. We'll 
arrange everything."

I should have seen the danger signals. The mention of Toots should have 
been sufficient warning. But Goofy as Head Girl of St Cat's! It was 
unthinkable.

I reached out and shook Goofy's moist paw. "Take good care, Goofy, my 
dear. Good luck in whatever you decide to do."

Without another word to any of them, I turned and walked out of the 
Second Form Sexual Chemistry Group laboratory store room.


**********

"We were still getting those readings until supper time, Miss Thunderbolt." 
Clit tapped the screen as if it was a barometer. "She shot up to 165 on 
Monday, then the figures suddenly settled back to 125 and they've been 
there all day."

"No more indications of the 165 girl since then?" asked Moggie.

"Nothing. There's Anastasia now. She's slipped back to 124, 123. Unusual to 
see a St Cat's girl getting smaller all the time."

"It's starting to show," said Moggie, "I saw her earlier. Her blouse is 
hanging off her. She looks emaciated, the poor child. I wonder if she's off 
her food. Any more potential Head Girls about the place?"

"No, Victoria is out there on her own now. She's probably big enough to 
have matched the mystery girl anyway, although her waist and hips aren't 
as small."

"How is the system working, anyway? No problems?"

"One or two readout failures, replaced from stock. A few bras in for repair 
and calibration." Clit indicated a heap of satiny garments on the 
workbench.

Moggie strolled over and sifted through them.

"Christ, whose is this one?" She held up a stupendously vast chocolate-
coloured bra.

"That's young Cassandra's. Bloody expensive," Clit complained. "If we can't 
get that one working, it's the best part of three hundred quid down the 
Swanee."

"HOW much?"

"Three hundred. Those underwires are specially made from carbon fibre. 
We had to get a minimum of ten sets made at Grand Prix Developments. 
They only fit Cassandra's bra, and she's still growing, so we could end up 
throwing them away. They're even too big for Miss Meadowlark's bras, 
because her body is so much tinier than Cassandra's. I know we can 
recycle the bras if the transmitter is knackered, but ..."

"What's wrong with it?" Moggie inspected the tiny transmitter nestling 
between the great hoop-shaped underwires.

"It was giving readings, then it suddenly blew. We couldn't just change the 
transmitter, it's a special wide range sensor because of Cassandra's 
enormous circumference."

"Try and fix it, we're not made of money." Moggie's voice had gone 
strangely muffled. Clit looked up hurriedly to see that the headmistress 
had put one of Cassandra's bra cups over her head. It draped itself down 
across her shoulders and came down well past Moggie's waist, enveloping 
her whole upper body including her own substantial bust. "If only 
Cassandra was built a bit less like a Challenger tank, she would be Head 
Girl of St Cat's without any contest," she sighed.


**********

"Breathe in, Cassandra, a little more, go on ...!" Corinne urged the girl to 
greater efforts.

"It's no use, Miss. Girls must have been smaller in Victorian times."

Corinne sighed and laid the corset on the dressing table. "It's better than 
last night, Cassandra, another six inches and you'll be there."

"Six inches, Miss? That's loads!"

"You've lost twice that already, in a week. You can do it. Once we get the 
corset on you, we can start pulling the laces tight. I've checked the rules 
about the wearing of the Head Girl sash. They say nothing about 
foundation garments. If we can get your waist down to twenty-eight, you'll 
be wearing that sash for the rest of your stay at St Cat's. Nobody will ever 
get near your bust size!"

"Yours is, Miss Meadowlark!" Cassandra gazed at Corinne's astounding 
figure in awe.

"Mine is getting smaller, Cassandra. And you are no age at all, and still 
growing. By the time you leave St Cat's, you will have the Biggest Breasts 
in the World."

"Gosh, Miss! I don't know. Try that corset one more time. If I really 
breathe in, perhaps ..."

"Let's go for it, Cassandra! Here we go."


**********

I came in at what was obviously a climactic moment. Corinne was hugging 
Cassandra ecstatically. The room was bulging at the seams. The young girl 
towered over her teacher, who stood back proudly and showed me her 
creation.

"Ta-daaaa!" she announced and flung her arms wide.

A little gratuitous description is in order.

Cassandra was enormously tall. Her breasts, in their insanely gigantic cups, 
projected wildly from her powerful barrel chest. The girl's shoulders would 
have matched those of a weightlifter, yet her epic breasts made them look 
narrow and scrawny by comparison. She stood with her long, immensely 
powerful legs apart like a colossus bestriding the bedside rug, her calves 
and thighs rippling with muscle beneath the black fishnet stockings. Her 
hips were fully in proportion to her legs, wider even than mine, which was 
reassuring in a way. As she slowly turned around for my inspection, I saw 
the planes and curves of her sculpted buttocks, only partly concealed by 
her ScatPants-E, in what I fervently hoped was the largest available size.

And between all that, separating top from bottom, an obviously original 
Victorian corset, the kind that laces up down the back. There was still 
plenty of room for the lacing to pull her waist tighter, but compared with 
what was below, and especially with what was above, her hourglass shape 
was ludicrously exaggerated. She completed her slow gyration and came to 
rest facing me.

"What do you think, Miss?" she asked shyly.

For once, I was at a loss for words.

Corinne provided the answer. She produced a scrap of scarlet silk and 
stretched it around Cassandra's waist. It tied easily in a knot and the tails 
of the material hung down at her side.

"There she is, Shan. The next Head Girl of St Cat's!"

Corinne was right. There could be no doubt about it.


**********

The atmosphere in the school hall, the Great Hall of St Cat's, was almost a 
physical presence. 

"What's it all about?" The whispers went around the girls. No one knew the 
answer. 

Up and down the central aisle strode the Head Girl of St Cat's. Victoria was 
resplendent. She wore her tallest heels, her legs shimmered in seamed 
black stockings. If she felt any embarrassment that the hem of her skirt 
was four inches above the tops of her stockings, Victoria didn't show it. She 
had been forced to obtain a new blouse to accommodate her still-
burgeoning bust, growing at almost an inch a day. 

The buttons of her blouse were arranged in groups of four. There were 
literally dozens of them, appearing where the blouse was tucked into the 
waistband of her skirt, to droop downward for several inches before 
recovering in an upward and forward swoop to the peaks of her 
stupendously erect nipples, finally turning inwards in a great convex 
upward bulge eventually to rejoin her chest. Her tie was specially made, 
and rested on the upper slopes of her breasts, to dangle down between her 
quivering, never-still nipples.

She wore her hair up in a severe style, scraped back off her face. Her 
eyebrows were plucked into menacingly thin lines in a pale face 
highlighted with splashes of red on her cheekbones. The whole apparation 
was crowned by a top hat, brushed until it gleamed like a freshly-
shampooed mole.

Girls gasped as Victoria cruised by. Many of them had not seen the Head 
Girl for a week or more, and that was sufficient time for her constantly-
ballooning bust to boggle the mind. None of the girls would meet piercing 
Victoria's eye. She scanned the ranks of girls, slapping her horse-whip into 
the palm of her white-gloved hand, needing only the flicker of a glance to 
meet hers. She was ready to stop in her tracks and swell like a cat to twice 
her normal size if another girl as much as looked at her.

But now, not a girl in the hall was going to look at Victoria. Miss 
Thunderbolt had stepped up on to the stage. Her mortar board could have 
been placed on her coiffed hair using a spirit level. Her ermine and velvet-
trimmed academic gown streamed behind her, revealing her scarlet 
leather skirt which was so tight some of the girls wondered if it was a coat 
of red gloss enamel paint. She had her best fuck-me pumps on her feet, 
and stockings patterned with little spiders. Miss Thunderbolt made no 
effort to match her students in sheer breast size. She could not hope to 
compete with many of them. But her breasts rested on a platform bra, 
specially crafted by Flaps, and her lime green top was deep scoop-necked, 
revealing three quarters of her creamy breast flesh. A concerted gasp went 
up when Miss Thunderbolt turned to face the assembly: not only did Miss 
Thunderbolt's breasts actually project upwards from where they joined 
her chest, but the over-filled top revealed the whole of both nipples. With 
her usual immaculate dress sense, Miss Thunderbolt's lipstick matched the 
colour of her areolae.

Miss Thunderbolt was followed on stage by her second-in-command, Miss 
Mountains, conservatively dressed in an almost luminous orange trouser-
suit, cut so tightly round the crotch that the girls in the front three rows 
pointed surreptitously and giggled. Miss Mountains's pants seemed to be as 
well-filled as a boy's.

Side by side, and holding hands as unobtrusively as possible, came Miss 
Meadowlark and Miss Gruntworthy. Miss Meadowlark, wearing a newly-
created Microbus frock, was bravely walking without the aid of her boy 
breast carriers, so the entire squad of boys formed a guard of honour in 
their Autumn uniform of black spandex cycle shorts and matching singlets. 
Miss Gruntworthy wore a virginal white gown with black tights which 
were perhaps intended to minimise the size of her waist, hips and thighs. 
It was a brave attempt which failed utterly.

Miss Rhys ap Llewelyn Owen had a headache and could not attend.

**********

I wished I hadn't worn that white outfit. I felt so bottom-heavy I was like 
one of those dolls that refuses to fall over. And that was despite having a 
ten-foot bust which my ScatBra-E revealed as being less than ninety 
inches.

Corinne was great, clinging on to my hand when I was on the verge of 
refusing to go on stage.

"They won't be looking at you, Shannie, darling. Not with Moggie up there 
with her tits hanging out. And when the star comes on, they won't even 
notice Moggie."

"I'm scared, Cee!"

But before we stepped on to the public stage, Corinne gave me a lovely 
hug. I wanted another, but she whispered, "Later, darling!" and scratched 
little circles in the palm of my hand with her fingernail. One of those secret 
little signals known to every young girl.

Moggie was speaking.

"Victoria, would you come up on to the stage, please?"

The Head Girl swelled visibly with pride, unable to hide her smirk as she 
strode down the centre aisle, swinging her breasts and hips from side to 
side in  opposite directions. She sashayed across the front of the hall 
beneath the stage, reached the steps at the side and ascended into the full 
gaze of the school.

Despite the personal views of the girls, they had to concede that Victoria 
was totally awesome. She approached Miss Thunderbolt and stood proudly 
by her side.

"You are all aware of my new policy regarding the position of Head Girl of 
St Cat's. The girl with the largest bust shall be appointed Head Girl, with 
the proviso that the girl shall be slim enough to wear the Scarlet Sash 
which is the badge of office."

Victoria raised her arms and turned her body from side to side, 
demonstrating the slimness of her waist. She reminded me of an airline 
stewardess demonstrating the life-preserving equipment.

"Until last week, we had some potential challengers for the position. But 
those of you who have seen Victoria's readout will be aware of her 
constantly increasing bust measurement. Truly, she has been a credit to 
her school."

Did the student body appreciate the use of the past perfect tense in 
Moggie's last sentence? Perhaps Victoria did. She looked anxiously at Miss 
Thunderbolt for a moment as she continued.

"However, the rules state that as soon as a girl can show that she is more 
highly qualified for the position than the current Head Girl, she shall take 
over the Scarlet Sash immediately. That is the purpose of this assembly."

Victoria was now staring at Miss Thunderbolt in disbelief.

Down in the second row, I could see Suzanne and Pansy looking at each 
other. Surely Goofy hadn't returned to St Cat's to steal the crown. A 
nightmare scenario.

Moggie turned to Smegs. "Miss Mountains will now introduce to you one of 
your number who today will take over the Scarlet Sash from Victoria. Miss 
Mountains, please ..."

Smegs rose from her chair and stepped to the side of the stage where a 
screen had been erected. She held out her hand and instantly every gasp 
which had gone up so far - for Victoria, for Miss Thunderbolt - was 
eclipsed. Victoria seemed to wilt before our eyes. Even her top hat seemed 
to shrink and lose its gloss. And into the centre of the stage strode a vision, 
almost a giantess, certainly an Amazon.

Cassandra was even taller than Smegs, something I had never noticed 
before. It must have been something to do with the skyscraping heels she 
was wearing. Her great height normally didn't show, as she was so well-
proportioned. I looked at her, wondering if 'well-proportioned' was the 
right word. At least, the dimensions of her hips and legs were in 
proportion to her height. Where did she buy those stockings? They seemed 
endlessly long where they disappeared into her girlishly-flared miniskirt. 
But compared with her earth-motherly hips, her cinched waist looked 
painfully small, and her bust looked appallingly huge. Yet she moved 
easily and with an innocent grace.

Victoria could say nothing. Nobody would have heard her anyway. Meekly, 
she untied the Scarlet Sash and placed it in Cassandra's hand. Cassandra 
smiled sweetly at her and gave it to Smegs who handed it to the nearest of 
the breast carrier boys. He approached the towering Cassandra, as if 
fearing that she might crush him with a single blow. Warily, he stepped up 
behind her, and tied the Scarlet Sash round her apparently miniscule 
waist.

St Cat's rose to its feet and cheered Cassandra to the echo. The cheers went 
on for ten minutes. A Mexican wave started up somewhere and surged and 
flowed around the hall as the cheering went on and on. It wasn't so much 
that Cassandra was a favourite girl of the school - after all, she was a mere 
First Former and no age at all - it was simply that it was the end of an era. 
This was the start of a Golden Age. No St Cat's girl, never never ever, could 
have as big a bust as Cassandra Uddamore.

The Queen was Dead, Long Live the Queen.


**********

I managed to slink off the stage in all the noise and confusion. "See you in 
a while, Cee," I whispered, and she grinned and nodded, perhaps knowing 
where I was going.

It was quieter in the corridor outside the hall. The cheering was going on 
unabated in there. A new motif was making itself heard.

"Toria OUT, Cassandra IN! Toria OUT, Cassandra IN!"

I walked up to the forlorn and seemingly tiny figure leaning numbly 
against the wall outside.

"Toria, come with me, darling!"

She looked up at me, her tear-stained face crumpling. She came into my 
arms. "Come on," I said. "Let's get you away from here."

Victoria didn't say a word, she clung to me as we made our way out of the 
building and into the cool of the afternoon sunlight. She shuddered and I 
wrapped an arm round her shoulders. She still held the top hat in her 
hand. Now she looked at it, dropped it on the ground and kicked it 
petulantly away. It rolled in a circle in the dust, then stood itself carefully 
upside down, as if mocking her.

"Was I really that bad, Miss? Did they hate me so much? Do they *all* hate 
me?"

What could I say to that? Fortunately, I didn't need to say anything. A 
hand took Victoria by the elbow. A friendly girl's hand.

"I'll look after her, Miss. She'll be all right."

Victoria squeezed my hand. "Thanks, Miss. It wasn't your fault. Maybe 
there's something wrong with my character." Slowly, she set off across the 
quadrangle. She turned to her only friend and held out her hand. "Come on, 
Amy. Let's go and be first in the queue for tea!"

Amy clutched her fingers and hung back.

"Are you sure? I've got a much nicer idea."

"Better than food?"

"Do you really still want your tits to keep growing an inch a day?"

Toria aimed another kick at her top hat. "It didn't do me any good, did it?"

"Come on, then. I'll call us a taxi. I'm sure Miss Gruntworthy won't tell 
anyone. We're going to Lord Ted's! I know the best way in the world to 
stop your tits growing!"





THE END