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1

For the rest of their years Hank and Terry recalled the date of June 24, 2414 with a mixture of fondness and regret. On that date those two 18-year-old Earth boys arrived on Outback to attend New Darwin University. Over 30,000 male Earth students attend university on Outback each year. All-in-all they were well-behaved young men, but it only takes a small number of jerks to paint all of them with the same brush. One could find that metaphorical brush in the hands of Hank and Terry.
    Ostensibly, the duo arrived early so they could attend the second summer session. In reality, they only took two classes in the summer. That left loads of time for what Hank and Terry really wanted to do on Outback - observe the shapely sheilas that are Outback women. Unabashedly self-admitted admirers of the female form (especially breasts), the duo couldn't sate their desire by looking at Earth women. There were still natural busty beauties on the homeworld and some women have enlarged their busts with nanites. In the final measure, however, the average Earth woman was either flat as a board or a notable C-cup.
    Outback, thankfully, was more bountiful. The average cup-size of an Outback woman was D. The Flat Chest Society made much hay of the fact that 75% of D-cup Outback women used nanites. In return, the aforementioned women, along with virtually everyone else on the planet, regarded the FCS as whinny poms and ignored them. Besides, bosoms were only a part of a sheila's inventory. Slim waists, silky legs, cute bottoms, and sensual hips and thighs can make a relatively small-chested woman a knockout.
    Friends since grade school, Hank and Terry resolved to fulfill their higher educational needs and sate their taste for bosoms at the same time. Inherently bright, the duo easily earned scholarships and generous tuition assistance grants. For them, it was only the agonizing thought that seven days and 20 light-years separated them from the parks and beaches of Outback. Yes, parks and beaches fill with bountiful young women in abbreviated clothing and swimsuits. After arrival, it was another week of barely-contained impatience as the duo moved into their spacious dorm room and settled in. Then, with everything in order, the duo moved out into the busty world that awaited them.
    The first place to receive the duo's attention was Ivory Sands Beach. Looking at it as either the northern end of the Bass Sea or the southern edge of New Darwin, the beach surpassed Hank and Terry's expectations. Earth women were way too modest at the beach. They wore one-piece suits or bikinis with T-shirts. Outback sheilas had more abbreviated options. For this particular year thongs were all the rage. The duo appreciated the sea of cute, tanned bottoms that threaten to burn out their retinas with delight. Another popular fad was the use of bikini triangles held in place with body paste. Unfettered by annoying bikini strings, a woman's natural bust movement could be fully appreciated.
    Using genuine Zeiss binoculars, Hank and Terry found a spot on the beach that commanded an excellent view. They spied row after row of women sitting on towels, either applying skin-conditioner or sunbathing. The swimsuit materials allowed the women to sunbathe while still 'clothed', but it didn't take much to imagine the sheilas totally naked. The more bountiful women got the duo's attention, and it was thus on the ninth day of Founders Days, Outback's planetary holiday, that Hank and Terry had their first misadventure.
    "Lookit," said Hank, lowering the binoculars from his excited brown eyes. "That babe must be at least 38W! She has to turn in place in order to see anything under her!"
    "Show me!" exclaimed Terry, his blue peepers scanning the beach.
    "There, by the hotdog stand."
    "Got it!" After a moment of viewing Terry wolf-whistled. "God be praised, what a honey!" The object of Terry's comment was indeed a honey. Copper-brown hair reached down to the woman's waist, and her bosom was a mighty 155 centimeters. Her thong and bikini triangles just accentuated the impression of her virtual nakedness. If only more women were like...
    Terry's view was abruptly cut-off. Looking up, Terry and Hank were taken aback by the sight in front of them. Clad in the female summer uniform of the New Darwin Police, the nearly two-meter tall sheila was a goddess made flesh. She had dark red hair, blue eyes, brown skin, and a bust that thoroughly tested the short-sleeve shirt that covered it. Hank hazard a guess that the microskirt she wore barely covered the sumptuous round bottom she had to have.
    The two boys were gawking. Had their heads been tilted lower then drool would've trickled out of their mouths. The tall, exotic cop spoke. "Gentlemen, I have to say that what you were doing was legal. It's embedded into every man's genes that he must occasional gaze at healthy women. The only problem is the way you're doing it. Son," she said, holding out her left hand to Terry, "may I see your binoculars?"
    Without reservation, Terry handed his expensive Zeiss binocs to the officer. She gave the tool a quick look-over. "Pretty expensive, loaded down with every option."
    Yeah, Terry though as he admired the officer's beautiful arms and hands, she definitely loaded too!
    The officer tapped the binoc's sensory cluster. "These sensors can give you a plethora of information on the person it's viewing. Body heat, pulse rate, respiration, and body density. It's the infrared laser rangefinder that's giving me a problem."
    "How can that be, officer?" said Terry. "All binocs have them."
    "Not this one. This IR laser is military-grade. Most often you find them on precision rifles. Rifles that kill-crazed snipers use on crowded beaches." Both boys turned pale. "Don't worry. It's a common mistake. But I do need to get your ID. The next time you improperly use the IR rangefinder you'll be fined, and don't even think of using it the wrong way for a third time."
    Terry complied, as did Hank, for his binocs were the same as Terry's. The officer took down the information. She secured her minicomp and smiled generously at the boys. "Now, why don't you two go down on the beach and see those sheilas close-up? Only shy Earth boys resort to using binocs when there's plenty of babes within easy reach. G'day." She turned around and left. Her heavenly profile was forever burned into the minds of Hank and Terry. The duo kept their gaze on the officer's calves and microskirt-covered bottom until she was lost in the crowd. If she ever became a goddess, then the duo wanted to be the first sacrifices made in her honor.
 

2

Two weeks later the duo had their second misadventure. In one of New Darwin's many parks there was an amateur-level bikini volleyball tournament. The attending crowd was huge, so the duo had to use their binoculars out of necessity. The duo learned that their Zeiss binocs were associated with Earth tourists and professional 'body-gawkers'. It was a mark of either having more money than sense or creepiness, for Zeiss binocs were quite powerful. If you wanted to know if a girl had a mole on the small of her back from half-a-kilometer away then Zeiss binocs were for you.
    Terry gazed lovingly at the volleyball players. Though fitted with standard bikini bottoms, all the girls wore triangle bikini pasties. Unhindered by string, the bustlines were allowed their full range of movement. The girls had breasts as big as the volleyballs they were using. The teams played on while the crowd whistled and hooted in joy. Both Terry and Hank loved it when the girls dived to intercept serves, exposing their wonderful cleavage. They even loved it when the girls shook their chests for no other reason than making the crowd wolf-whistle in approval.
    An object blocked Terry's view. Looking up, his face transformed into a frown when he realized it was another police officer. Tall and lanky, the officer was grinning like a cat that caught a mouse.
    "Fine set of binocs you got there, Son. May I see them?" The officer held out his right hand. As before, Terry complied with the officer's request. "Hmmm. A Zeiss Optical 12A. I have a pair just like this, but it has a civilian-grade IR rangefinder. Yours has a mil-grade version."
    "Yes it does, Officer," said Terry naturally. "My father was in the Space Navy, and was able to purchase those for me."
    "Good connections." The officer frowned. "However, don't use the IR function when viewing a person. My minicomp detected your laser when I passed in front of you. The only people I know who use mil-grade rangefinders are police sharpshooters and kill-crazed snipers. Just why were you using it?"
    Terry flushed in embarrassment. "Ah, I heard that you could use an IR rangefinder to determine a girl's measurements. I was validating that theory for myself."
    The officer shook his head disapprovingly. "Potential voyeurs in training, I see. Let me check if you're in the database. Name?"
    "Terry Wescott."
    After a few moments the officer frowned at the results his minicomp showed him. "You've been warned once before, Mr Wescott. I have to fine you 20 credits. If you use the IR rangefinder inappropriately again then it'll be confiscated. Comprende?"
    "Perfectly understood, Officer."
    The officer did some input on his minicomp and had Terry place his thumbprint on the screen, indicating that he understood what the officer told him. "There, all done. May I suggest in future that you gentlemen get seating closer to the action, and ditch the binocs. Outback girls appreciate men who see them close-up rather than gawking at a distance. G'day."
    The duo nodded. They did find a spot near the volleyball court, and were lucky enough to see the winning team jump up in celebration. Hank and Terry were in heaven as they observed six pairs of glommable breasts bouncing in joy. They only wished that they could be in a position to make that scene go on forever and ever.

It is commonly said that bad things happen in threes. Hank and Terry came to know that all too well. Five days after the volleyball game had the duo in another park. They had made discreet inquires on city and underground datanets about Angelican females. The thought of women having watermelon-sized busts embolden the duo to seek them out and view them. Hank and Terry knew that Angelican women made themselves top-heavy to express their feelings of love, health, and fulfillment. They wanted to know if Angelican sheilas showed off as much cleavage as the FCS wanted everyone on Earth to believe.
    Near the center of the park were small fields sectioned off by trees and tall shrubs. Taking an occasional peek through the shrubs, the boys were rewarded by the sight of two Angelican women sitting on a bench. Each woman was nursing a baby. To facilitate this feeding, the women's blouses were unbuttoned. The boys whistled silently, their desire fulfilled. Terry pulled out his binoculars and focused in on the women. He could observe every slight movement the women made, not to mention the wonderful cleavage such big bosoms had to have.
    "Terry," said Hank pensively, "you better put that thing away. What if a cop finds us?"
    "Not just yet. They're securing their bras," replied Terry, his voice happy.
    "Well, well," said an authoritative voice. "What's all this then?" Hank and Terry turned. Their faces blanched both in embarrassment and lust. Standing just three meters away were two cops; two quite-shapely and endowed female cops. The short one had green eyes and platinum blonde hair. Her friend was taller by a head and had dark hair and brown eyes. Hank and Terry tried their best, but their eyes landed on the cop's busts and microskirts. Both boys tried to will the officers to take deep breaths. No such luck.
    "Ah... Hmmm... er.... Ahhh... Me and my friend were bird watching," Terry spewed out.
    "Yeah, that's the ticket, officer. Bird watching." Hank added.
    "Why don't I believe you?" said the short one. "You two were gawking at Angelican women breast-feeding their babes. In fact, you went out of your way to spy on those women. Didn't you read the rules of the park? Especially the part of not using mil-grade IR laser rangefinders? Only kill-crazed snipers use such things."
    Before Terry could talk his friend Hank stumbled into the conversation. "Err... well, that is, officer... me and Terry were performing some research for our paper in school."
    The tall officer scratched her chin in contemplation. "What sort of paper?" she said in fake interest.
    "Well, we were using the laser to determine the volume capacity of an Angelican woman's bust before and after breast-feeding. Precisely, we needed to know the amount of shrinkage after feeding."
    "That is the lamest excuse I've ever heard," said the short officer. "Everyone knows that Angelican women use nanites to enlarge their busts. Because of that, their bosoms don't grow when they fill with milk." The officer produced her minicomp, holding the screen out towards Terry. "Thumbprint, please."
    Terry complied. After an agonizing ten seconds the little computer beeped. The short officer kept a stone face, but her eyes blazed with condescension. "Boy, you've been warned twice before. Didn't officers Junker and Eddings tell you not to break the law a third time?"
    "Yes," said Terry before Hank could open his mouth.
    "And you used that laser anyway. I'm obligated to tell you that I have to confiscate the laser. It will be handed over to the New Darwin University Security Office. The laser will remain in that office until you graduate or disenroll from school. You've also been banned from buying a replacement laser at all registered supply and department stores on Outback." Her slight grin crushed whatever lecherous thoughts Terry still had about her body. "Oh, if you try to buy one on the black market and get caught, you'll have to spend a minimum of one month in jail. And jail time is such an ugly mark to appear on your permanent record."
    Hank had to say something. "Officers, just how did you know the IR rangefinder was in use?"
    The tall one spoke again. "The Angelican women you were ogling from afar were wearing infrared-sensitive bracelets. After twenty seconds of contact the women used their silent whistle function on their minicomps. That is the reason why me and my partner are telling you this instead of someone else."
    Terry looked sick; he had every right to be. "You mean, their husbands? Is that them behind us now?" Angelican men are known for their willingness to engage in dangerous professions, such as orbital construction work and asteroid mining. The two men that stood behind Hank and Terry where eager to do some construction work on the boys' faces.
    "They certainly are, Mr Wescott. I heartily suggest you and your friend go right now and don't look back. After all, those Zeiss binoculars allow a person to count the number of stitches on an Angelican bra from this distance. And Angelican men don't appreciate pathetic Earth jerks like you. Ogle women at the beach where that's expected."
    Without even saying 'thank you, officer' the two boys left with exaggerated haste. Both the husbands and the buxom police officers snickered and giggled at the boys' expense. Some Earthmen have to think with their glands all the time.
 

3

The fall semester started at NDU. Hank and Terry recovered from their close brush with the law and certain bodily pain at the hands of the Angelican husbands. Still, the duo were able to enjoy the sights and sounds of their environment. The Aussie accent that Outback people spoke with was amusing. The boys really liked it when the girls talked. Such honey voices could only belong to angels. Because of this, the boys were eager to get up early each morning for classes. Every opportunity to observe sheilas as they walk, talk, jog, and even perform Tai-Chi exercises had to be taken.
    September 11 was another date that Hank and Terry would look back with mixed emotions. It was that date they learned about the Delta Delta Sorority. Commonly referred to as Double-Delta or DD, this sorority held the distinction that every member must have at least a DD (really an E-cup) bra measurement. With joy, the boys did some research and discovered that the average bra-size of a DD-er was a K-cup. Lust working overtime, the boys made it their goal to see these girls wherever they made an appearance.
    It wasn't a long wait. The DD-ers had booths at the NDU Septemberfest. One booth was dedicated to the sale of homemade candies and sweets. Another featured a coin toss. But the remaining three booths offered a 'hug'n'kiss' from a DD-er for only 5 credits. Of course, those booths had the longest lines. In all fairness, the young men in those lines would've paid twice that amount, especially if they got a hug and kiss from one of the handful of DD-ers that where Angelican babes.
    Hank and Terry had the devil's luck. After waiting in line for ten minutes they got their turn. They ran the risk of heart attacks, for before them stood an magnificent example of over-endowed womanhood. Almost 1.8 meters tall, the Angelican-sized babe had a bust fit to crush a man's ribcage. Being short men (they were only 1.62 meters tall each), Hank and Terry ran the additional risk of having their shoulder blades dislocated when the babe embraced them. Acting as if they had done this everyday, the boys paid the money and got their peck on their cheeks and a short, but wonderful, hug from their goddess made flesh.
    Walking away, Hank rubbed his T-shirt like a lover. "I'm never going to wash this tee again. It has been graced by a beautiful thing."
    Terry hugged himself in an attempt to keep the warmth of the woman's bosom with him forever. "Why not seal it up in plastic? That'll keep the freshness of the feeling."
    "Good idea! Let's both do that."
    They did. The boys found a booth that offered the novel service of turning everyday objects into artworks. The booth owner gladly sealed the T-shirts in protective plastic, even though it was an unusual request. Happy, the duo went back to their dorm room so they could dream happy dreams with their preserved T-shirts tacked to the ceiling above their heads.

Alice Vitras, President of the Delta Delta sorority, walked into the common room of the sorority house. Due to her size, Alice looked like she was smuggling large balloons underneath her Barney the Bushbear nightshirt. "Has anyone seen the hair dryer? I have to get ready for Ward."
    Carla Buchen, the sorority vice-president, looked over the top of the sofa. "Can't say I have. Anyway, didn't your fiancé express the sentiment that you look lovely in everything you wear, birthday suit included?"
    "Sneak! I'm going to tell your mom!" Alice stuck out her tongue. "Really, who has the hair dryer?"
    Sitting in a reclining chair was the treasurer, Deirdre Kemp. She was mindful of her 36Q bust as she removed her headphones. "I believe Marlene is using it in the second floor bathroom."
    "Thanks." Alice went to aforementioned bathroom and knocked on the door. "Marlene, I need the hair dryer."
    "Why?" said Marlene, her voice muffled by the door. "Where's yours?"
    "I misplaced it."
    "Sure. Misplaced it at Ward's apartment I daresay. Or perhaps it's in your cleavage. Have you checked?"
    "And I daresay you'll swallow your toothbrush if I don't get that hair dryer now, Miss Imp."
    The door opened. Marlene Spirit Talker, freshman, handed the hair dryer to Alice. "Here you are. You took your sweet time getting ready for Ward tonight."
    Alice didn't waste time. She turned the dryer on and made for the bathroom mirror. With a free hand she cleared a spot on the glass, enabling her to see what she was doing. She spoke above the whine of the hair dryer. "I would've been ready if somebody had done the laundry like they're supposed to. Remember, your pledge duty ends on the 30th, not before."
    Marlene folded her arms over her comparatively small 34F bust. "It would be easier if everyone else doesn't go through clothes like there was no tomorrow. I'm practically washing clothes each night."
    "Don't be glum. See this as a character-building exercise." Alice gave her hair a final look-over. She handed the hair dryer back to the Amerind girl. "Besides, you're building up strength in your arms and back by folding and carrying laundry. Look," she flexed her arms and pushed out her bosom, stressing the nightshirt thoroughly, "it did wonders for me!"
    "Yes. One wonders if any buttons stay on your shirts when your breathe."
    "Marlene..."
 

4

It was dusk when Hank and Terry reached the Delta Delta sorority house. They had dressed in their darkest clothes and even blackened their faces with Halloween paint. Acting with an exaggerated sneakiness one would find in a cartoon, the duo crept up to the house. Each boy wore a pair of night-vision shades equipped with built-in video recorders. They hoped that the girls would engage in a pillow fight or even a strip poker game. Oh yes, the boys hoped that something would happen.
    The evening was no disappointment. The boys advanced on the bay window of the house with the skill of a North Korean sniper. The boys stopped just short of the shrubbery at the base of the window. Next, they extended the remote viewing rods of their video recorders. The insides of their shades acted as video monitors, allowing the boys to see what was happening in the common room.
    Hank felt a pressure rising in his loins when he spied the first girl. She had basketball lungs underneath her flowing T-shirt. Sitting on a beanbag chair, the buxom babe painted her toenails. Her dainty chin was planted on the upper slopes of her fabric-covered joy-balloons.
    Terry was growing anxious. He spied three sheilas resting on more than their tummies as the watched tri-dee. Proud basketball norks pushed the sheilas away from the floor. Terry could see the flatten breasts peeking from the bottoms of T-shirts like excess mustard on a cheeseburger. He actually licked his lips at the thought.
    Silent blessings were given when the duo saw no less than four Angelican babes, wearing nothing more than shorts and bras, walk into the common room. Caught up in the moment, the boys started to breath heavily as the girls complemented and touched each others' bras. Later, the boys wished they had controlled their breathing, for what was to follow could've been prevented.
    Deirdre was in the kitchen making a pot of coffee when she heard the security panel beep. "Computer," she said, "display source of intrusion." A flatscreen on a kitchen wall came to life. The external security camera showed an infrared image of two people near the common room bay window. It was clear that the intruders were men, judging by the body mass and heat emissions, not to mention the abundance of CO2. The system itself was a gift donated by the Alpha-Gamma-Psi fraternity. Last summer they lost a tug-of-war contest to the Delta Deltas. At least those men were good sports and had gland control, not like the perverts who were currently spying on the DD-ers. Those two must be deep breathers, Deirdre thought.
    "Please choose a course of action," asked the computer.
    "Turn on the lights and release the dogs," said Deirdre wickedly.

"Hey, what gives?" Hank whispered. The bay window went opaque, blocking out all emissions. It might as well be a window of lead instead of glass.
    The exterior lights turned on, illuminating the two boys as they laid prone on the ground. They felt like cockroaches caught out in the open. "Hellnation!" yelped Terry. "Lets get outta here! Serpentine!" Getting up with comical haste, the boys ran and swerve across the tree-dotted yard. Behind them they heard sounds of dog chains and growls. At least no-one was shooting at them.
    The DD-ers watched the unscheduled comedy show on the tri-dee. It wasn't often that perverts had the guts to sneak up to the house to spy on the girls, but rarely did they get away scott-free. If the trees didn't slow down a pervert's escape then the horde of guard dogs the sorority employed made sure they ran fast anyway. The few lechers that didn't run fast enough or got trapped in the trees were arrested by the cruiser patrols. Others were later arrested on the evidence collected by the DD-er's security system. Sadly, it was the few photo-freaks that did get away that inspired the others to try, even at the expense of getting a potentially embarrassing police record.
    There were indeed dogs chasing Hank and Terry. No less than eight, 15-kilo dachshunds were running after the men like rabbits flushed from a hedge. On any other occasion it would be an amusing sight, but for the boys it was terror. Dachshunds are rather ferocious when they bite. With the dogs at their literal heels the boys received unexpected salvation. With a collective yelp, the wiener dogs fell to the ground, unconscious. The boys stopped running and collected their breath.
    "Hey... how did... that happen?" Terry breathed.
    "Don't... care..." wheezed Hank. "Let's get back... to the dorm room."

Back at the sorority house Carla cradled one of the unconscious dachshunds in her arms. "Poor little things. Those perverts used a stunner meant for humans. Thank God none of the dogs stopped breathing."
    Marlene had one of the dogs in her arms and another on her lap. "Who were those guys, anyway? Who'd be desperate enough to spy on us?"
    "Earth boys," announced Ward, Alice's fiancé, as he entered the common room with the last dachshund. He handed the sleeping pooch to one of the girls. "In one way I can't blame them. Growing up in an environment devoid of bosoms and then coming to place that has them in abundance can make some men off-center. These two, however, weren't satisfied with passive gawking. They just had to look for themselves."
    "I can vouch for that, Ward. Virtually every boy in my high school back on Earth had a pin-up poster in their locker. Usually it was an Outback or New Sardinia girl."
    "Speaking of girls, where's mine?"
    Ward was embraced from behind by Alice. Her watermelons mushed warmly and firmly against his back. "Ward," Alice said, "I hope I'm the only girl you have in your locker."
    Turning around, Ward saw what his woman was wearing. Alice's chest was graced with a decorative laced-up bodice and western vest. Her quilt-pattern skirt reached her knees, below which she had her tall boots. All-in-all she looked ready to do some country dancing. "Alice, I would love to place a poster of you in my locker, but it's too small. Besides, it's a hard choice to decide between your face and your bust."
    Alice kissed Ward on the cheek. "Then get a tall locker. I'm ready to go."
    "Not just yet. You need something." Ward opened a thin box he brought with him and removed a single cinnamon rose. He placed the rose in the little bit of cleavage that Alice displayed. The other girls giggled and sniggered.
    Alice give her jealous friends a look. "You're being disrespectful to your president, ya'know. Then again, what can I expect of girls who allow themselves to be seen by two Earth perverts? Since they saw you in your undies, you'll never get married."
    The girls gave Alice a raspberry and giggled some more. Ward wrapped an arm around his woman, escorting her out the house and into his car. The couple was going to a dinner dance that night. Alice knew that all of her friends would be waiting up for her tonight. Just because Alice was the sorority president doesn't exempt her from telling what she and Ward did on their date. Girls will be girls, after all.
 

5

Hank keyed-in his code on the door's lock panel. "Boy, I'm thirsty. I hope some lollywater is left in the refrigerator." With relief, Hank and his friend entered the dorm room.
    "Throw in a pizza with that also." Terry removed his black jacket. He threw it towards his study chair. Inexplicably, the jacket hung motionless in mid-air. Gawking, Terry and Hank watched as the jacket floated over to a wall and placed itself onto a coat hook. Then a figure emerged out of thin air in the middle of the room. Whoever it was, the person used a camouflage cloak, as the garment itself became visible. The person took off the cloak and folded it over an arm.
    "Who are you?" asked a surprized Hank.
    The person was a man, a very short man that stood a bit over 1.4 meters in height. His face had the aged and worn look of a great grandfather, but his eyes were twinkling with life and mischief. Strangely, the painfully-expensive business suit and gold cufflinks the man wore looked appropriate. Clearly this man had refined tastes and wads of money. With a toothy grin the man bowed at the neck. "I'll give you three guesses," he said, "but the first two won't count."
    Hank looked closer as he tried to divine the man's identity. "Let's see - short stature, wrinkled face, and, judging by those clothes, obviously wealthy. I have to say you're Mr Big."
    "Mr Big?" Terry said. "Hank, that's stupid. Everyone knows that Mr Big is an invention of the news media. I mean, c'mon, no-one could do the things he's supposedly did."
    "Ah, a Doubting Thomas," said Big warmly. "What will it take to convince you that I'm the genuine article?"
    "Well, for one thing, Mr Big is supposed to be irresistible to women," Terry said in a smarmy voice. "I can see how a woman would love him for his wealth, but not for his face."
    Big harumphed and snapped his fingers. Next to the coat hooks on the far wall another person disengaged their camouflage cloak. It was a woman - a shapely, basketball-bosomed sheila that was on the verge of falling out of the tiny dress she wore. She slinked on over to Big and bent down. "Kathy," Big said, "that boy assumes you love me only for my money. What do you have to say to that?"
    Kathy embraced Big and smothered him with affection and kisses. "Oh, Biggy, there's so much that I love about you. I'd be with you every second if I could."
    Hank and Terry looked on as Kathy planted Big's face in-between her scarcely-covered ladybumps, hugging him tight. "Okay, Kathy, you've proved your point," said Big as he reluctantly withdrew himself from her warmth. "Put the cloak back on and get into Supercar. Tell Albert we'll be leaving in a few minutes."
    "Okay, Biggy-Wiggy." Kathy planted a kiss on Big's forehead. She donned her cloak and left the room via an open window. Only after the window was closed did Big break the boys out of their lustful stupor.
    "Seeing you like that, Terry, tells me that you're a believer now," said Big.
    "How did you know my name?" asked Terry.
    Big grinned. "I, too, was at the sorority house tonight. In my camouflage cloak, I was doing my own bit of voyeurism when I saw and heard you two make your approach. My surveillance gear got a good read on your faces. Assuming that you two were NDU students, I had Albert run a file-check. Getting access to your dorm room wasn't difficult."
    Hank gained a measure of courage. "Mr Big, why are you here? Are you going to rub us out for interrupting your evening viewing of the Delta Delta babes?"
    Big's face blanched in embarrassment. "Heck no! I'm not that petty minded. I appreciate the effort and courage you two displayed when you spied on the girls. Had it not been for your heavy breathing, you could've been there all night. I've spied on the girls earlier this year, you see. You two missed the opportunity of watching the girls as they massaged their boobs with skincare lotion."
    "Dammit!" said Hank. "We blew it! No way in Hell that we'll get another chance."
    "Don't be so quick to give up, young buck." Big walked around the room, admiring all the posters the boys had tacked to the walls. Every one of those pics were sheilas with incredible norks trying to escape from tiny swimsuits. Big patted the butt of one of the photogirls. "Rarely do I encounter men who are willing to take huge risks to satisfy their desires and lust. These posters just reinforce my conviction that you two love admiring girls blessed with oversized breasts." He turned, his grin transformed into a toothy smile. "I can help you, my bosom-loving friends. I can teach you skills and talents that will enhance your boob-loving pleasure. Care to take me up on that offer, yes?"
    The boys had no choice. Big spoke the words they wanted to hear. Sure, Mr Big was a supercriminal without peer and looks like a bag of skin, but boy, he sure does get the whoppers! The duo could only nod absently, their eyes glazed over.
    "Hmmm... I'll take that nodding and dead-carp expression as a yes. I'll be back tomorrow night at 8. Be prepared to take notes and," Big said with mischief, "the occasional pop quiz! Ciao!" Big put his camouflage cloak back on and walked out the door.
    Hank and Terry gazed up at their plastic-sealed T-shirts on the ceiling. They imagined seeing their dream women filling, and then exploding, out of those shirts. With Mr Big as their teacher, the duo knew their fantasies would come true.
 

6

It was 8 p.m. the following night. A firm knock at the door made both boys jump in surprize. They half-believed their encounter with Mr Big was a hallucination brought on by the mushroom-laced pizza they ate last night. Terry went to the door and looked at the security panel. Lo and behold, Mr Big was on the other side. What appeared to be a bodyguard stood next to Big, his plain looks hiding all emotion. Terry opened the door.
    "Good evening, gentlemen," said Big as he entered, followed by his guard. "I trust that you're ready for this evening's lesson." He placed a hand on his companion's forearm. "This is Albert, my faithful and talented assistant."
    "Pleased to meet you," said Hank. Terry just nodded his acknowledgment.
    "First off," said Big, "let's catalogue what materials and resources you two gather in regards to bosoms. What girly magazines do you read?"
    Terry counted off with his fingers. "There's Homegrown, Blouse Busters Monthly, Growing, The Bikini Watcher, and... what are the others?"
    Hank gladly stepped in. "Big Guns, Nude Attack Woman Comics, and Ouch! My Eyes!. That's it."
    Big looked perplexed. "What? No Playboy and Humongous?"
    "Well," Terry offered sheepishly, "those girls are kinda small."
    "That they are, Terry. Bosoms are important, yes, but a lady is more than a pair of walking norks. All the subtle valleys and curves that are found on a woman must be appreciated as well. Albert, get a subscription of Playboy and Humongous started up for these gentlemen. Also give them the last five years worth of back issues."
    "Done," said the laconic Albert.
    "So much with magazines. How about tri-dee shows?"
    "I'll handle this one," said Hank. "We watch The Girls of Ozland at every opportunity. There's also Nude Attack Woman, Search and Romance, and Clear the way for Claire."
    "Fine shows, each and every one of them featuring at least one girl busting at the seams, especially Claire." Big laughed, coughed, and hacked. "Oh, the stories I can tell about the actress that plays Claire. You see, she use to be one of my girls. She wanted to be a tri-dee star, so I blew her up and let her go. The show will be celebrating it's 250th episode next week."
    "Thanks for the reminder, Mr Big," Terry beamed. "I'll make sure to record it."
    "Record it? Hogwash? I can get back-stage passes for the both of you. Claire likes young gentlemen who opens doors for her, especially since she can only go through doors sideways." Both boys allowed their eyes to glaze over with pleasure.
    Albert cleared his throat. "Mr Big, about the exercises?"
    "Yes, thank you, Albert. Boys, as I said last night, I shall teach you skills that will increase your enjoyment of bosoms. However, in order to achieve that, you have to exercise control over your body. Tonight, at Ryner's Field, you two will sweat the poisons out of your bodies. A healthy body can sustain pleasure and ecstacy much longer than a flabby one."
    "You must know what you're doing," said Terry. "After all, you're Mr Big."
    "That's my name," Big beamed. "Don't wear it out."

Ryner's Field was nothing more than a half-kilometer oval track used by student joggers and practicing marathon runners. Hank and Terry were garbed in running sweats, as were Big and Albert.
    Big eyed the boys critically. "Okay, just about ready here. All I need now is to hear you breathe."
    "Breathe?" said Hank.
    "Yes. Breathe normally." Big endured twenty seconds of hearing the boy's natural breathing cycle before he stopped them. "Pathetic. Grandmothers with asthma can breathe better than that. If you can't breathe correctly, then you can't move correctly. Your muscles must be starving for air. Now, watch me breathe."
    After two minutes of attentiveness Hank raised his hand. "Mr Big, are you saying that the key to your stealthy moves is your controlled breathing?"
    Big let loose with a big exhale. "Yes indeed, boy. In a few weeks you two will walk silently like the wind. Now, start running."
    Hank and Terry went around the track with Mr Big right behind them. The gravel surface of the track was taking its toll on the boy's feet. "Mr Big," Terry panted after the fourth lap, "how long do we have to do this?"
    "Until I get tired," said Big. He hadn't broken into a sweat yet. "First, you must sweat out the poisons of lethargy and slothfulness from your body."
    "Great," said Hank. "We're sloths."

Early October. Three times a week Hank and Terry were coached by Big. After an hour of exercises the boys were then taught and quizzed on all matters relating to bosoms. They even learned the archaic measuring system, since bra makers still ascribed inches to bra measurements.
    "Okay," said Big as he held up two images of bra-clad women, "one of these women is a 30G, the other a 32C. Which one is the 32C?"
    "The one on the right," said Hank.
    "Correct." Big drew up two more cards. "One is a 32F, the other a 34D. Who is bigger?"
    "That's a trick question," said Terry. "Both have a bust measurement of 38 inches. However, the 32F lady is shorter, has the smaller bandsize, and the higher letter rating. So, in relative terms, she's the bigger one."
    "Correct." Big looked happy. "Boys, it's time for you to learn some basic 'hide-in-plain-sight' ninja tricks. Once you mastered this tricks you can observe women without fear of discovery. You can even enter a women's locker room and gawk, even glom, to your heart's content."
    "Mr Big," Terry said, "me and Hank are thankful, but..." Both boys knelt on the floor before Big, bowing and chanting. "We're not worthy! We're not worthy! We're not worthy!"
    "Oh, do get up," Big commanded. "Only grateful women prostrate themselves before me for the most inconsequential things. They're be an opportunity to thank me properly. You'll see." He stood up and stretched his arms. "Okay, boys, it's time for the bonus lesson."
    "What's that, Mr Big?" asked Hank.
    "I'm gonna teach you two to act like buffoons. Really big buffoons that will terrify your enemies into submission."
    "Gnarly!" said the duo.
 

7

Ward opened the door to his apartment and allowed Alice to enter first. With relief, Alice made for the bathroom. "I'm glad that's done. I'd though the traffic would never let up."
    Ward turned on the lights. "People just got to have bagels for their breakfast. At least you got overtime pay."
    "That was the only good part." Alice placed her bookbag on the table next to the bathroom door. She removed her Sunfresh Bakery work shirt, pants, and shoes, placing them in the bag. In a side pocket Alice retrieved a blue piece of cloth. "Give me five minutes to freshen up."
    "Okay, honey. I'll get ready as well." Ward blew a kiss towards his woman. Alice smiled and sent her own kiss. In his bedroom, Ward removed his clothes and donned a pair of swimming trunks. He gave his hair a quick check in the mirror before heading for the bathroom. At the end of the five minutes he knocked.
    "C'mon in, you rascal," said Alice seductively.
    The thickness of humidity touched Ward's face as he entered the bathroom. Resting in the huge bathtub was Alice. Only her head and the upper halves of her breasts broke the surface of the water. Ward looked down into the tub, admiring Alice's legs and blue bikini bottom.
    "Are you going to stand there all night and gawk like an Earth boy?" Alice questioned. "Get in here."
    Ward gingerly entered the tub. He made sure no water sloshed onto the bathroom floor. He maneuvered himself so that he could set Alice on his lap. Now situated, Ward wrapped his arms around his fiancé. "Now, what is it we're about to do?"
    Alice applied lotion to her breasts. She smoothed out the yellow puddles of skin softener with her fingers. "Forgotten already? Shame on you, Ward." She reached down into the water and laid hold to Ward's hands. Next, Alice placed those hands on top of her norks, making sure that they stayed there. "What we're about to do is commonly called breast play. For Angelican couples, there are only two occasions when they do such a thing."
    "Am I allowed to guess?"
    "No. I'll tell you the major difference when we arrive at that point. Now, this is where the man spreads the lotion all-over the woman's breasts."
    "I won't miss a spot," Ward purred. His hands worked the lotion into a rich lather, spreading it to every valley and curve of Alice's bust. He didn't realize just how big his woman was until now. Knowing that Alice had a bust/height ratio of 1 was one thing, but actually touching and caressing the proverbial watermelon bust was another.
    Alice hummed her approval. She felt Ward's hands moving all over her front. No fold or curve was left untouched. Every square centimeter was given richly-deserved attention. Her only discomfort came when Ward inadvertently tweaked her nipples. "Ward, honey," she said, "my rudes are not buttons or old-fashion light switches."
    "Sorry." Ward kissed the back of Alice's neck. "There, is the boo-boo all better now?"
    "Ward, I'll show you a boo-boo. No, make that two." Alice turned around in the bathtub. She cupped her lathered-up norks. "What we just did is what Angelican couples do for relaxation. It can stop right there. However, if breast play is used as foreplay," she grinned liked a naughty girl, "then I would've done this!" Gleefully, Alice spread her breasts apart and moved forward. When she felt Ward's stubble-covered chin and cheeks touch her breastflesh she pushed her mighty mams together, moving them up and down his face. After a vigorous 10-second face massage Alice pulled backed and giggled.
    Ward's face was red, both by friction and with happiness. His facial stubble held a beard made of lather. "Wow! Now I know what to look forward to in July. Our wedding suite better have liters of lotion waiting."
    Alice washed off her lathered-up lungs with a hand towel. She moved up to Ward and wiped his face clean. "I'm looking forward having my norks massaged by those sexy hands of yours." Alice then left the tub. Only after wrapping herself up in a towel did she undo her bikini bottom. "I'll change into my clothes in your bedroom. Do hurry; the movie starts in 45 minutes."
    "Not a problem. My stubble will be much easier to remove now since you saw fit to give me a good lathering beforehand."
    "Just don't expect to use my norks to lather your face every morning. You have hands."
    "I know," said Ward in a suave voice.
    "Ward!" Alice said in a tease.

"Boys, let me say that you've exceeded my expectations by a considerable margin," said Mr Big. Dining in an exclusive club in Victoria Tower, Mr Big and his 'students' were appreciating a fine meal of steak and potatoes with a side-dish of jackalope ribs. "Your ninja skill of invisibility has enabled you to go and do things that most boys only dream about. What was the title that the campus newsfile gave to the mysterious person that's been glomming females left-and-right?"
    Hank came up for air after downing the last of his ginger ale. "That'll be 'Glom Goblin', Mr Big."
    "Ah, yes. Glom Goblin. You and Terry have infiltrated the women's locker rooms for the past two weeks. No less than forty females have been glommed. And that incident at the cafeteria! Marvelous! It's fun to see those ice queen instructors get what's coming to them."
    Terry smothered his laugh with umming and awing. "All I have to say in my defense, Mr Big, is that some of those instructors deserved it. I bet that was the most excitement they had in years."
    "Ouch!" Big rubbed his ears. "You boys are beginning to think like me! Now is the time to extend your training to the next level. I have a special project that will require your assistance. But first, I shall reward you two for your achievements." He snapped his fingers with the authority of a mob boss ordering a hit. Two voluptuous vixens materialized at this side. "Kathy, Della. Take these two deserving boys up to your suite on 418. Go and make men out of them."
    "We'll be happy to do so, Biggy," giggled Kathy as she pulled up a lustful Terry from his seat. "It's nice to have some variety every now and then."
    Hank and Terry agreed. They considered the night of October 29 one of their best Outback memories ever.
 

8

Early November. An atmosphere of apprehension had settled on the NDU campus. The Glom Goblin was still on the loose. The number of reports went down, but the brazenness of the Goblin increased. Girls were getting into the habit of covering their chests with filepads and crossed arms, denying the Goblin the chance to glom them. But the girls couldn't keep their guard up forever.
    Campus security increased patrols and intensified its investigation. They knew they couldn't cover all the likely spots where the Glom Goblin could strike, so they called upon the NDPD for assistance. Volunteer off-duty police officers were sent to the NDU campus. Dressed as college students, these officers employed sophisticated monitoring equipment. The Police had a hunch on the possible identity of the Glom Goblin. Some officers were convinced that they knew who the Goblin was.
    Officers June Parlor and Nadia Junker were pretending to be students engaged in life-study sketching. The duo sat on a bench located along one of NDU's jogging paths. A sizeable number of glomming incidents occurred along this particular path. Odds are that the Goblin would strike again.
    "It has to be Mr Big," said Nadia. "Only he has the discipline and skill necessary. Anyone else would've been caught by now."
    "Agreed," said June. "Any other boy would've succumbed to their base desires. If one could glom a girl and not get caught, then why not try something more despicable, like ripping open their shirts in public or take indecent photos at close range?"
    "Or use IR rangefinders to take a girl's measurements from afar. I wonder what became of those two Earth boys that I lectured to back in the summer? The ones with the fancy Zeiss binoculars."
    June bit off a piece of jackalope jerky she had in her hand. "They're probably up in the bleachers during Razorback games, ogling the cheerleaders. Its the only safe place to use such powerful binocs and not get into trouble."

Officers Lynnae Wilcox and Zachery Vandecreek were paying a courtesy visit to the Delta Delta sorority house. Aside from the September voyeur incident, the DD-ers had no encounter with the Glom Goblin or any other perverts. This may have something to do with the fact that the girls had boyfriends in the football, soccer, and rugby teams. No peeping tom desires to have any kind of football shoved down his throat, unless he's a real sick puppy.
    The sorority's entire membership of 34 was assembled in the common room. Ms Emma Woodcot, the sorority house mother, was also there. Her job was a combination of housekeeper, mentor, friend, and advisor. Plus she had considerable sewing experience and could make custom bras. The DD-ers couldn't praise Ms Woodcot enough for the work she does. "Officer Vandecreek," she said, "does the Police have any idea on who the Glom Goblin might be?"
    Zach replied with the look of total honesty on his face. "Officially, the department considers this Glom Goblin to be a man with considerable dexterity and in possession of an optical camouflage suit. But," he said devilishly, "off the record, it's likely that Mr Big has returned to the NDU campus to get his fill of glomming breasts."
    The sorority girls hissed at the mention of the name Mr Big. The Flat Chest Society chapter on campus had long considered the DD-ers to be nothing more than a training ground of bedroom playmates for Mr Big. The FCS and DD often traded words in the editorial section of the campus newsfile and showed up at each other's campus events. Nothing stronger than words and the occasional fingers have been exchanged between them. However, the FCS had made it a part of their initiation that new members must tee-pee the DD house sometime before winter break. The DD-ers just take it as a sign that winter had arrived.
    "Officer Wilcox," said Carla Buchen, "could the FCS be involved? The FCS column in the campus paper said this Glom Goblin wouldn't exist if the female students had no breasts for him to glom."
    "I won't put it past the FCS," said Lyn. "They've caused trouble on this campus in the past. It would be a shame if they're the ones doing all of this, promoting the very activity they publicly despise. And, Carla, do call me Auntie Lyn. You don't have to act all formal and proper in front of your friends on account of me."
    "Okay, you sourapple." Carla gave her mother's friend a raspberry. The assembled girls giggled and laughed.
    "Just be glad you're too big and unwieldy to get a paddling, Carla. Plus you're too old."
    "Auntie Lyn, you've embarrassed me!" said Carla in mock shock.

There was a feeling of excitement in the air back at Hank and Terry's dorm room. Like conspirators in a smoke-filled back room, the boys watched as Mr Big laid out a paper-panel on the study table. After smoothing out the wrinkles, Big turned on the 3mm-thick viewing screen. "Boys, it's time to perform the job I've been telling you about for the last few weeks. After this caper is done you'll truly be in the same league with me when it comes to glomming and gawking."
    "That sounds wizard, Mr Big!" exclaimed Hank.
    "Yours is the superior intellect!" chimed Terry.
    Big waved the boys down. "You can heap praise on me later. Now listen carefully, my bust-obsessed friends. Next week, the night of November 12th will forever be remembered in NDU history. Yes, that date will be known as the night that Mr Big truly made the members of the Delta Delta sorority the biggest girls on campus!"
    The trademark laughing, coughing, and hacking commenced. Eager to imitate their teacher, Hank and Terry also laughed and hacked. Albert, every diligent, gave glasses of water to his boss and to the boys.
    "Thank you, Albert," said Big. "Now, for the fine details of my plan..."
 

9

November 12th, 5 p.m. Ward escorted Alice to the front door of the sorority house. On the porch Alice gave her man a kiss and a hug. "See you tomorrow at 8?" she said.
    "It's a done deal," said Ward, planting his pucker on Alice's left ear. "Promise to show me that new pair of shorts you bought today?"
    "Do you want me in them?"
    "Or out of them. Either way."
    "Ward!" Alice gave a final hug to Ward. "You incorrigible tramp. Leave something for the wedding next year."
    "A man can always dream, can't he?"
    "Now what did I just say?"

On the cluttered periphery of the sorority house property there were three crouching figures. Clad in dark clothing, these figures moved from bush to bush, tree to tree.
    "This feels stupid," said one figure with the voice of a girl. "What does this prove, anyway?"
    "Tammy, keep quit," ordered another female voice. "Their guard dogs might be out."
    "Dachshunds as guards? That's as silly as having a watermelon bust," said a third voice.
    "Laura, you be quite too," said the second voice. "The both of you know your assigned areas. Get to it."
    "Okay, Sue," said Laura.
    The three girls were members of the Flat Chest Society chapter on the NDU campus. As part of their initiation, the girls had to make a symbolic gesture against what they considered a prime example of mammical overindulgence, namely the Delta Delta Sorority. On Earth, centuries ago, girls often stuffed their bras with toilet paper in an attempt to make them look bigger. In the 25th century nanites made such efforts unnecessary. The FCS girls were going to 'tee-pee' the sorority house and nearby trees with rolls of toilet paper.
    The message of this juvenile action of tee-peeing was plain. The FCS considers the DD-ers to be nothing more than desperate girls who blew up their bosoms in order to attract boys. It was bad enough that girls go practically naked on the beach, but the line had to be drawn at blouses brought to the point of exploding trying to contain oversized breasts.
    For this semester, however, trees limbs won't be covered with streamers of toilet paper. One by one, the FCS girls were knocked out and dragged away by an invisible assailant. The person who captured the girls had a far worse fate in store than what any court judge could bestow upon them.

Once again the scene was that of the common room. The DD sorority was holding its monthly membership meeting. At the front of the room was the head table. Alice Vitras, the president, sat in the middle. Carla Buchen, the vice-president, sat at Alice's right side. The multitude of whispered conversations were silenced when Alice pounded the traditional gavel.
    "Okay, girls, stow the gossip until after the meeting." Alice waited until the room was silent. "I hereby bring the monthly Delta Delta meeting to order," said Alice authoritatively. "We will begin with a reading of the minutes of the last meeting. Marlene Spirit Talker, the Delta Delta Keeper of Record, will now read those minutes."

Mr Big gazed down at the three unconscious FCS girls at his feet. Like everyone else, Big considered the FCS a joke. The last thing Big needed was for these girls to ruin his plan this evening. He knew what to do with them later.
    Albert arrived. "Mission complete, Big," said Albert. "The dogs are all sleeping. Hank and Terry are at their designated positions. Video recorders are ready." He also looked down at the girls. "What about them?"
    "Excellent, Albert." Big pulled a camo hood over his head. "Once the deed is done, bring these three girls with you. They, too, shall partake of the gift that I'm giving to the DD-ers."
    "As you wish, Big."

"If that is all, then let us partake of the toast," said Alice. "Ms Woodcot, please bring in the drinks."
    "Right with you, Miss Vitras," said the matronly woman.
    "What's the toast going to be about this time," asked one of the sorority girls.
    "We're going to toast the good health of the boys and girls in the Children's Ward at Maryland Hospital. I like to think that our reading program has made a contribution to the recovery of all those wonderful kids."
    "Very good," said Carla, "I'll toast to that."
    Ms Woodcot returned with the cups and pitchers. There was just enough of the hot apple cider to go around. Alice stood up and held out her cups. "To the swift recovery of all the sick little boys and girls in the Emerson Childrens Ward."
    "Here-Here," said the sorority girls.
 

10

Big was on the roof of the sorority house. He used his thief tools to open a ventilation hatch. Thanks to his relatively small size, Big was able to squeeze through the hatch. He landed on his feet on the attic floor. After checking his bearings the little man made for the door. Electronic gear silenced the alarms attached to the door, allowing Big to open it. He tip-toed through the third-floor hall and then down the stairs. He could hear the girls making their toast. Shit-eating grin in place, Big cued his throat mic. "Okay, everyone," he whispered, "it's showtime!"

Deirdre gazed with a critical eye at her now-empty cup of cider. "Something wasn't quite right with this drink. The taste wasn't what I expected it to be."
    "It tasted a bit tart," said one girl.
    "Strange," said Ms Woodcot, "I specifically bought a natural-ingredient apple cider for tonight." She loosened the collar of her blouse. "Is it me, or is it getting hot in here?"
    "I'm practically burning," said Marlene. Sweatbeads appeared on her forehead. "Has the air conditioning been turned off?"
    "Eeep!" cried Carla. She cupped her breasts that were now noticeably larger than their normal basketball size. "My norks! They're growing!"
    "Mine too!" proclaimed another girl.
    "Same here," said another, "and you too, Cathy!"
    The volume level in the room rose higher as all the girls realized their already ample chests were enlarging at a swift pace. Blouses, T-shirts, tank tops, and vests were being sorely tested by expanding breast flesh. One after another those garments failed, revealing vast expanses of inflating womanhood.
    "Quick," said Alice, "someone call the Police!" Alice would've done so, but her bust had gotten so big she couldn't get through the doorway. She tried exit backwards, but was soon hemmed in by three other girls that tried to leave as well.
    "We're trapped!" cried Deirdre. "We're running out of room!"
    By now even the 'smallest' DD-er had a beanbag bust. Doorways that were previously wide enough taunted the girls to pass through them. Some girls had to clamber on top of sofas and even tables to make more room - it was just as well they did. In under 45 seconds the growth stopped. It was literally wall-to-wall bosoms in the common room. Just moments earlier the average bust size of a DD-er was 109cm, now the average was 525cm. Hardly any space remained for the girls to maneuver, assuming they could walk with the enormous weights they had on their fronts.
    "Is anyone wearing a minicomp?" asked Alice. She tried one last time to pulled her boobs through the doorway. They were just too darn big and heavy, despite her best effort.
    "I have one," cried a girl named Lily, "but my arm is pinned underneath my breasts. I'm stuck!"
    "Here's an idea," said Deirdre. "If we all take a deep breath, we could bust down the walls and crawl our way out."
    Alice sighed. "Great idea, except that'll bring the ceiling down on us. Any other suggestions?"

Hank and Terry's faces were fixed with the expression of wonder. Big told them that he had spiked the girls' drinks with the Nepalese breast-enlarging potion. The boys heard about this potion in the news earlier in the year. Over 500 females sailors and marines had birth-control implants that were tampered by Mr Big. The minuscule amount of potion in each of those implants gave the women basketball-sized norks. Hank, Terry, and even Big joked about how the Navy finally got some 'big guns' on their ships.
    It was clear that Big used virtually all of his remaining stock of the ancient potion. The girls in the common room looked as if they stepped off a page of a Nude Attack Woman comic book. One obvious difference was that Naoko wasn't around to save the girls and restore their bosoms to normal. There was no known antidote for the Nepalese breast-enlarging potion. Any breasts so enlarged couldn't be shrunk by nanites or even surgery.
    The comm channel crackled to life. More crackling came from Big's throat. "Hank, Terry! Come inside from the side door. Albert, bring in those three FCS babes. My enjoyment will commence immediately."
    "Aye, Aye, Big," replied the three mentioned men.

"Get off my foot!" said Reila. She tried to move her breasts onto the coffee table. The stout piece of furniture was unable to support the weight of three pairs of enormous breasts and collapsed. "Great, now my other foot is caught!"
    "Move or somethin'!" Mary tried to shimmy her way between two girls. "Who has their bony elbow poking into my rump?"
    "I would love to move, but someone's rude nip is boring into my back!" Chloe steamed.
    "Can anyone reach the wall phone?" Carla questioned.
    Marlene, like Alice, was stuck in a doorway. Her bosom was trapped in the crowded common room while her body was in the kitchen. The phone panel was tantalizingly out-of-reach. "If someone could push me into the kitchen I could reach the phone."
    "Ouch!" cried a girl in the middle of the room. "Who is on top of my boobs?"
    Those girls able to see over their bosoms did so. They gasped as one when they spied a small figure standing on top of Lindsey's breasts. "Eek!" They cried. "It's the Glom Goblin!"
    "Sorry, girls," said the figure, "but I can't claim that title." With both hands the figure removed his hood.
    Alice and Deirdre squeaked as one. "It's him! Mr Big! You're behind all of this!"
    Big grinned. "Actually, girls, your behinds are facing the other way!"
    "You'll pay for this," Deirdre vented. "Just don't lose your step. If you do, we'll make sure you suffocate! Right, girls!"
    "You tell him, Deirdre," Alice chimed in. "You don't know what you've gotten yourself into, Big."
    "Wrong, my dear Alice," purred Big. "I know exactly what I'm doing. Your monthly meeting was the perfect opportunity to use the last of my Nepalese breast-enlarging potion. I had to use it now before it lost any more potency."
    "Nepalese?" said one of girls with urgency. "You mean, just like what happened those sailors?"
    "Yes indeedy! That means you'll be stuck with your new size forever! But fear not, for you'll be joined by three of your FCS foes! Albert, I'm coming over!" Big made for the front door, bouncing from breast to breast like they were oversized pillows. Some girls squeaked with discomfort, while others were infatuated with the sensuous touch of Big's cloth-covered feet. He had to slide down one set of the enormous lungs that blocked the doorway leading to the front entryway.
    The three FCS girls were still unconscious. Albert had placed them sitting back-to-back. In a gesture of sympathy Albert also removed the girls' shirts and badly undernourished bras. At the very least the girls won't feel discomfort when they grow.
    Grinning again, Big looked down upon the girls. He drew out an eyedropper from a secured pouch. Filled with the very last sample of the Nepalese potion, the dropper was given one final glance by Big. With a confirming nod, Big had Albert open the mouths of the girls. Three short squirts later the potion was utterly gone.
    As with the sorority girls, the FCS babes underwent their own expansion. Breasts that barely topped out as A-cups moved briskly up the alphabet. With a lustful gaze Big watched as the breasts reached watermelon size, then beachballs. The inflating tits obscured and then blocked out all sight of the girls' heads. Big placed a hand on one breast. He felt the urgent flesh pushing up against his fingers. It was a pleasant sensation.
    When it was over the girls had oversized beanbags just like the DD-ers. Big ran his hand along the flesh as he made two complete transits around the inflated breast-haters. "Okay, Albert," Big proclaimed, "it's time for phase three!"
    "You are great and terrible, oh master! There's no end to your evil!" Albert replied.
 

11

Hank and Terry had done their invisible gazing in the kitchen. They had their fill of admiring the Amerind girl's jean-clad bottom and her attempts to pull herself into the kitchen. The boys moved to another doorway so they could admire the cute bottom of the girl named Alice. Her pale, giant lungs also got some attention.
    The boys saw Mr Big clamber his way through the assembled collection of giant breasts. The DD-ers were unable to halt his perverted progress. With a mighty leap Mr Big landed on top of Lindsey's breasts, making her squeak in discomfort. "Okay, my sweet sea of blossoming womanhood," he said magnanimously, "here's what I have in mind for tonight. There is, indeed, an antidote for the potion." Big waited a moment while the girls gasped in relieve and astonishment. "However, there's a condition attached. One of you must gives herself freely to me and becomes my bedroom companion for the next few years." His cheesy grin was on instantly. "Any takers?"
    Foul phrases and epithets spewed from the mouths of the rightfully-indignant women. Big playfully covered his ears. "Ouch! My Ears!" He laughed. "Actually, I have already decided on a girl. Carla Buchen, where are you?"
    "Touch me and you die, Big!" Carla yelled back.
    "Such a limited view, dear Carla. I might as well tell everyone here why I've chosen you." Big turned around in place on Lindsey's bosom. The girl was fit to eat a nail. "Carla is the goddaughter of Officer Lynnae Wilcox, my implacable enemy. By making Carla my bedroom sheila I shall have scored a victory over Wilcox. Besides, Carla was a bit naughty four years ago. She, along with her brother Sam, made use of a stolen nanite module. That's why she had, up to a few minutes ago, a basketball bust."
    "They knew that already, you jerk!" Carla steamed. "I have paid for my sins of pride and greed. Yours can only be paid by spending the rest of eternity in prison!"
    "Most unlikely, sweet Carla. Now, I put it to you. Shall you become my companion and thus let your friends be restored to normal? Or shall you condemn them and yourself to a life beset by unalterably large breasts." Big gazed at Carla's approximate position in the room. "Tell me that being unable to see past your own norks for the rest of your precious life is far preferable than knowing that your friends have been restored safe-and-sound."
    Trapped on the floor and hemmed in by three other girls, Carla's grimace went unseen by Big. She could sense that the other girls were also nauseated by Big's offer. The DD-ers stood up against the FCS on every occasion and held there own against every immature gaggle of losers that came down the pike. Carla knew the other girls would rather live the life of a pillow woman than see one of their own becoming one of Big's bed toys.
    Another part of Carla's conscious played on her heartstrings. Did she had the right to refuse Big's generous offer? Was it an unacceptable price to pay, restoring her friends' dignity and freedom and the expense of her own? Indeed, would Big keep his word at all? Carla wanted to do what was right, but could she live with herself after making her decision?
    Big guffawed. "Carla, you can make your decision after I have one final bit of fun." He started to remove his camouflage gear and equipment.
    "What's he doing?" said Carla.
    "He's stripping!" yelled Kathy. She would've covered her eyes, but her arms were pinned to the wall by her bust.
    "Grossburgers! Look at that skin! He's a prune!" yelped a girl.
    "Those liver spots on his calves! Hideous!" exclaimed another.
    "Look at that gut! "
    "No! You look at it. I'm bitter!"
    "Such ugly kneecaps!"
    "Does he have a hairy butt?"
    "Why don't you ask him yourself?"
    Task complete, Big stood up proud, wearing nothing more than a pair of briefs. On his backside were the words Macho Man written in red. He tossed his gear to Albert. "Okay, my beauties, here's the game. I'm going to do some cleavage crawling and boob climbing for the next hour. Once I'm done I'll ask Carla if she made her decision. You know what will happen if she says no." Big held out his hands. "Albert, throw the bottles! Boys! You're invited to join me!"
    Terry stared blankly at all the lovely flesh before him. "What a generous offer Mr Big has made. He's willing to share this unique opportunity with us. This is the moment that I've worked all my life to achieve."
    Hank was not so loquacious. "Let's climb some boobs!"
    Stripping like they were on fire, the boys were down to their underwear in record time. Like Big, there were bold, red-colored words on their briefs. Hank's bottom spelled out Mr Tripod while Terry carried the dubious title of Meat Packer. A bit of wisdom still held sway in their heads; the boys kept their camo hoods. Hank and Terry may have felt safe and secure knowing their faces were hidden. The girls, however, were made more distressed. Having Big cavorting about on giant breasts was bad enough. Adding two minions that, for all intensive purposes, look like headless, life-sized sex mannequins made the whole experience much more unpleasant.
    Big handed a bottle to each of the boys. Satisfied, Big opened his and dumped the contents over his head.
    Alice had to say something. "What is that stuff he's rubbing all over himself?"
    "It's vegetable oil!" said one girl. "He's making himself all slippery and smelly! Yuck!"
    Albert tossed a pair of swimming goggles to Big. Now the perfect image of an old man ready to swim, Big launched himself into Lindsey's cleavage. "Tallyho!" he barked.
    Despite herself, Lindsey had to giggle at the sensation of Big moving down her cleavage. Thanks to the oil, the little pervert slipped on over to his next woman. That girl had to laugh as Big fondled her chest flesh and bottom. It was as if a human seal was cavorting in a sea composed of huge breasts instead of ice. Big even came up between a girl's cleavage once in a while to get a lungful of air. "Oh, somebody spank me!" chortled the little man.

Hank and Terry were not idle. They, too, immersed themselves in the sea of breasts. While Big acted like a seal, the boys were more like dolphins. Pushing off from breast to breast, Hank and Terry left an oily trail that marked their path of pleasure. When Terry reached Marlene an erotic thought occurred to him. "Hey, Hank. Let's say we hug this girl's norks. You know what they say, 'the darker the berry the sweeter the juices'!"
    "I'm there, buddy!"
    Marlene couldn't see the boys but she felt them anyway. Oily arms and legs moved all over her front. Her face was a study of seething rage. "You won't get away with this, perverts! My uncle's a cop, and he'll nail your poopers to the floor with thumbtacks!"
    "I'm sooooo scared, girly," said Terry with stifling smugness. "You should be spanked, but me and my friend have to attend to the other girls. Ciao!"
    Indignant, Marlene actually tried to walk forward. There was just too much mass in front of her to budge a centimeter. Resigned, Marlene allowed herself to slump back. Her bust followed her for several centimeters. Hotdamn! she thought. It must be the oil on my breasts. If I could pull back a little more I just might reach the phone panel!
    Steeling herself, Marlene started to pull back. Thanks to the oil, her copious bosom moved into the kitchen. When about half of her oversized front made it in Marlene attempted to reach the phone. In her haste she missed and fell backwards. The rest of her bosom flowed into the kitchen - and on top of her. Now pinned underneath her enormous orbs, Marlene made a symbolic effort to get to the phone. If only there was a way I could will the phone into my hand, she thought half-jokingly.
    A flash of inspiration exploded in Marlene's mind. Her Uncle Dan, in addition to being a cop, was also a shaman. Earlier in the year Marlene had an encounter with Mr Big when she first tried her powers. Thanks to Uncle Dan and his friends Marlene was saved from Big's wicked use of a shaman's medicine stick. Uncle Dan taught his niece to develope her powers in accordance to tribal traditions. The breast expansion trick Mr Big used on her would never work again, but she was still years away from attaining the level of skill her uncle displayed. But still she wondered. A year ago Marlene saw an ancient science-fiction video in which the hero willed a laser sword to fly into his hand. With that in mind, Marlene held out her hand towards the phone... and concentrated.
 

12

After a bout of cavorting and fondling Big came up for air in-between a pair of  pale breasts. His face was that of a satisfied hedonist. Looking aroudn the room, Big took note of the few girls that were able to see him. Some girls were still furnace-red mad at him, others were giving him the evil eye. A few, most likely freshmen, were scared or crying. For them, Big might as well be the literal Bogeyman. Then there were the few guilty ones that liked what Big was doing. Their souls told them it was wrong, but their extra-sensitive oversized breasts sent pleasure signal fit to burn out a computer. All they hoped for was that the feeling wouldn't become addictive.
    Big turned to see Alice and Deirdre. Those girls turned their heads away in disgust. Wondering how Marlene was reacting, Big looked towards the kitchen. The light brown, oversized beanbags he expected to see were gone. "Albert!" Big commanded. "Get to the kitchen and make sure Marlene is still there!"
    "Understood," Albert replied from the entryway. He gingerly slipped past the huge FCS girls and made for the kitchen. Once there, he found the girl pinned to the floor by the incredible bulk of her bosom. Though she was in a hopeless position, Marlene was still reaching for the phone. Albert had to admit that the girl was still full of spirit after what happened to her.
    Then the unexpected happened. The phone on the kitchen wall shook every so slightly. With a dramatic suddenness, the phone flew off the wall and into the girl's outstretched hand. Before the startled Albert could collect his wits Marlene punched in a set of numbers. "What are you doing?" Albert demanded, his wits recovered.
    "I'm... err... ah... ordering a pizza?" said Marlene in a cute voice.
    "None of your lip, girl." Albert swiped the phone from Marlene's grasp. With minicomp in hand, Albert performed a data query on the phone's memory chip. He discovered the significance of code *102. Albert poked his head into the common room. "Big! We have trouble. Marlene punched in a code to summon her uncle. We have to leave now!"
    "Aw, shucks!" Big lamented. "And only halfway done. I suppose 30 minutes will have to do. Albert, go get Supercar ready. Me and the boys will be with you shortly."
    "Understood."
    Getting his balance on Jill's slippery breasts, Big pounded his chest like Tarzan. "I'm so sorry, girls, but I must take my leave. Marlene just had to call for help. Her uncle, being a cop, will undoubtedly have a cruiser patrol sent over to investigate. Cops were not part of my agreement. So, I will leave all of you like this - huge and proud. Oh," Big added quickly, "Carla, you'll be please to know that I won't take you with me. My current women serve me just fine!"
    Alice yelled before any of the other girls could. "Bastard! You promised! I bet that antidote wasn't even real!"
    "It is real. At the very least I can show it to you." Big removed an small vial from a pocket inside his briefs. He held it up for the girls to see.
    "Gross! He had it in his knickers!" cried Deirdre.
    "I'm gonna be sick," said Lindsey.
    Big secured the vial. "Don't look on his as a bad thing, girls. You're an incredible group of young, beautiful women. And, with the norks you have now, you'll make perfect pillow women on Cloud 9. A bit on the large size as pillow women go, but perfect nonetheless." Big laughed, hacked, and coughed. The girls felt defeated. Only a miracle could...
    "Hands up! This is the police!" commanded a loud female voice.
    Alice was able to see the kitchen doorway. To her incredible relief she saw her friend and mentor, Officer June Parlor. What appeared to be her partner Lynnae Wilcox was there also, but her head was obscured by several intervening giant breasts. "June! Thank God you're here!"
    "Tarnation!" exclaimed Big. "How did you get here so quickly?"
    June and Lyn clambered on top of a pair of breasts. "Chalk it up to feminine intuition, you miscreant," June seethed. "I knew the DD-ers where holding their meeting tonight. The FCS makes it a point to tee-pee the sorority house at such times, so the Chief assigned us to patrol the area. Our radio was set to receive the coded signal that was programmed in Marlene's phone."
    Big started to backpedal across the field of breasts towards the front door. "Keep away, Miss Brass Buttons. I've got the antidote to restore the girls. You don't want me to destroy it, do you?"
    June looked righteous. "You shouldn't have said that, Big. Now my punches will have an edge to them."
    "Too bad you won't get the..." Big slipped on some vegetable oil and fell backwards into a canyon of cleavage. "Boys!" Big yelled as he tried to extract himself, "get me out!"
    Hank and Terry, still fitted with their camo hoods, scrambled to assist their mentor. Lyn and June had other ideas. Gabbing one boy by the ankle, Lyn pulled her catch away and gave him a light stun. June fired her stunner at the other, turning her attention back to Big.
    It looked bad for the crimelord, but he was nothing but persistent. He tickled the female flesh that entrapped him. The girl giggled so heavily that her breasts convulsed, ejected Big from her cleavage like a watermelon seed. He caught the ceiling light fixture and hung upside down like a demented bat. "Nya Ha Ha! I foiled you! I have a micro stun-shield in my briefs! Watch as I use my ninja skills to escape your foul presence."
    Big wasn't allowed to gloat, for Lyn threw her shoe at the little man. The impact against his head made a satisfying sound. Big fell down, his landing cushioned by Lindsey's breasts. The poor girl felt like a human trampoline.
    June grappled with Big, but the oil made holding him impossible. "What's the matter, Ossifer?" Big chimed. "I'm greased up like a pig. Since you're a 'pig', would you care to join me?" With a resoluteness only he could muster, Big glommed June's all-so-glommable breasts.
    "Get your dirty paws off me!" June grabbed hold of Big's knickers by the waistband. With her righteous fist June punched Big full in the face. The impact was so violent that Big flew backwards, sans underwear, into and through the bay window.
    Had the circumstances been different, Big would've enjoyed being tossed about naked by a bosomy woman. He coaxed his body off the cold ground and staggered to a tree. "My left buttcheek!" he said. "Albert! Hurry up with the car!"
    A multitude of low growls made Big stiffen up (No, not that kind of stiffening!). Ever-so-slightly he turned. Behind him were the supposedly sleeping dachshunds, all eight of them. Eight nasty, snarling, 15-kilo balls of flesh-rendering terror wrought in the form of adorable little dogs.
    "Nice doggies. Nice doggies," Big said cutely. The dachshunds weren't amused. "C'mon, cut me some slack. That steak Albert fed you was exquisite, though it was laced with a sleeping drug." Big started to backpedal. As a group, the little dogs advanced, their teeth bared. "Be good!" he pleaded. "Be good and you'll get a treat!" Again, the dogs weren't amused. They charged. Big, wearing nothing but his birthday suit, ran away as fast his little legs could carry him. He acted as if a pack of velociraptors were after him (that actually happened, but that's a different story). Rest assured, Albert came through and rescued Big with the usual display of panache.

"Yuck," said June, throwing Big's underwear out the window after him, "now I'll have to wash my hands with oven cleaner." She admired the pretty blue color of the antidote she retrieved from the torn undergarment. "I wonder what's the dosage for this stuff?"
    "It has an eyedropper," offered Lyn. "Why not use one drop at a time?"
    Kneeling on top of Lindsey's breasts, June gingerly applied a drop of antidote to the girl in front of her. With wondrous relief, the girl watched as her bust shrunk back to its normal 38H size. Since there was floor space now, June got off of Lindsey and applied a drop to her. Restored to her 34G measure, Lindsey hugged the other girl in an expression of relief and joy.
    Drop by drop, the DD-ers were restored. With genuine concern June hugged Alice firmly. "Are you okay, Alice? Did Big torment you?"
    "I'm just relieved he's gone," said Alice. "He denied it, but I believe he was the Glom Goblin. He certainly got his fill tonight."
    "Don't you worry yourself sick on account of him. Why not call Ward and have him come over? I'm sure he'll restore your faith in good-natured men."
    "That's an excellent idea, June. A nice hug from Ward will make me forget all about that horrid little bugger."
    In another part of the common room Lyn checked up on her goddaughter Carla. She, along with Deirdre and Marlene, felt a bit weird after experiencing sudden and dramatic breast growth and shrinkage. Lyn reassured them that a good night's sleep would give perspective to what happened that night.
    "Auntie Lyn," asked Carla, "what about the three girls in the entryway? Have they been restored yet?"
    "Good question," replied Lyn. "Hey, June, is there any of that antidote left?"
    June stood near the three girls. "I dearly hope so. There's hardly anything in the vial." With a steady hand June drew out the last of the antidote into the eyedropper. A perfect drop landed on each of the girls. Breasts began to shrink, revealing the still sleeping faces of the trio. Sadly, the remaining antidote had lost some of its potency. June felt heartbroken when she realized the girls' breasts would stay the size of beachballs. Nanites will still be tried, but it was likely the Nepalese potion's hold would remain unbroken.
    Lyn looked at the two short men that she and June had stunned. She giggled when she read the words imprinted on their briefs. "Mr Tripod and Meat Packer?" she said whimsically. "More like Mr Bipod and Meat Slacker. Let's remove those camo hoods and see those naughty faces." Imagine the surprize Lyn felt when she saw those two faces, sleeping in stun-induced bliss. Accessing her minicomp, Lyn's suspicion was confirmed. "Hey, June, you'll never guess who we have here."
 

[Epilogue]

The Delta Delta sorority was in the news spotlight for only a few days before interest in the story waned. The girls were able to place the whole experience behind them, all thanks to the efforts of Lyn, June, Ms Woodcot, and the girls' boyfriends. Ward was especially keen to make Alice feel better. She was treated to another evening of affectionate bathing and breast play. That went a long way to reaffirm the young couple's commitment to each other.
    The FCS girls - Sue, Tammy, and Laura - had a more interesting recovery. At first they were scared of what was to become of them. Nanites and even Dan Spirit Talker's magic were tried. The Nepalese potion's hold on the girls norks was as strong as ever. Having beachball breasts wasn't that difficult or bothersome, but in the girls' minds they saw themselves as hostesses in mens clubs or something less honorable. Ms Woodcot, bless her heart, told the girls that they had the power to do whatever they wanted with their lives. All three became Delta Delta members and continued with their college work. They also participated in many sorority events. It wasn't long before the trio became the best-known DD-ers on campus. The little tots of the Emerson Childrens Ward at Maryland Hospital liked having the trio read stories to them. Angelican boys and girls especially liked the trio, because they reminded them of their mothers, but bigger. The girls manned the Delta Delta hugs'n'kisses booth at the next campus fair, earning over 6,000 credits in the process. The 15 credit charge wasn't a disincentive to the horde of anxious boys who wanted their ribcages crushed by such ample beauties. In the fullness of time the trio graduated, got jobs, and married sincere and honest men. The girls knew their men loved them more for their hearts than for their bosoms. Considering the size of the girls, though, the men loved them very much (wink)!
    Mr Big took his loss at the hands of Lynnae and June in stride. He consoled himself that he had experienced what no other man had done at the time. Cavorting in a room filled with wall-to-wall breasts was worth being chased several kilometers by a pack of dachshunds. As for the matter of Hank and Terry, Mr Big hoped that his former students would use the skills he taught them. The universe could do with more men servicing their vices like Mr Big.
    As for the boys, they wished they'd never even heard of Mr Big. The charges against them were daunting: aiding and abetting a known felon, breaking and entering, sexual misconduct, inappropriate behavior in public (glomming), and invasion of privacy. Aiding Mr Big alone would've made the boys serve jail time. But that would not come to pass. In return for providing all information they had on Mr Big, Hank and Terry signed a legal document stating they won't come within one kilometers of the Delta Delta sorority house or participate in any events sponsored by that sorority.
    The NDU Administration had their own punishment waiting. In addition to placing the boys on academic suspension for a year, the administration made them apologize in person to the Delta Delta sorority - and to the whole campus. With their reputations in ruins and meeting scorn wherever they went, Hank and Terry concentrated on their studies with vigor, for they had to maintain a 3.5 grade point average. They also had to take a full load during the summer sessions. Many excellent opportunities to view bikini volleyball or simply watching busty girls breath were missed. As for their ninja stealth skills, the boys still used them, if only for self-preservation. The boys quickly learned that if they gazed at a girl for a microsecond too long then they could expect a meeting from the fists of the girl's boyfriend.
    Hank and Terry's misadventure did leave one lasting mark on Outback's urban culture. The Glom Goblin became the new Bogeyman for all the little girls to be afraid of. If a girl became too proud and boastful with her nanite-built bust then she could expect a visit from the Glom Goblin. The NDU campus had at least five glomming incidents each semester, all of them attributed to boys carrying on the tradition started by Hank and Terry. The duo considered the Glom Goblin a perverse way to earn a page in NDU history.
    Thanks to their studious academic work, Hank and Terry graduated at the top 5% of their class four years later. Back on Earth, the duo did their postgraduate work and quickly got jobs in advertising. Ironically enough, their work entailed promoting vacations to Outback and other 'bountiful' locations. The irony wasn't lost on them, and they accepted the fate handed to them. Even getting married and raising families did not dull the duo's memories of Outback. When their daughters decided to attend university on Outback, Hank and Terry had one piece of advice. They told their girls that if they're going to get nanite augmentation then they better not get too big, otherwise they may run the risk of getting a personal visit from the Glom Goblin. Hank and Terry spoke from experience, of course.
 
 

END

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