Disclaimer 2: Kiddies, don't read this. Not only would that be illegal, but it this has little to nothing to do with real sex. It'll just confuse you for later in life.
Disclaimer 3: This isn't Shakespeare. If I promise not to complain about stories featuring gymnasium sized breasts, you won't complain about my broadly drawn characters.
Disclaimer 4: The BE is in there, but not quite at first. Be patient.
It was by pure coincidence that the strange goings-on happened at a town called Hooterville. Even the one man truly responsible for the ordeal never took the town's name into consideration when he did what he did. (The "hooter" in Hooterville derives from the small plastic keyboard instrument called a hooter that the player plays by blowing into one end. For a time, they were manufactured in the town, but that's neither her or there as far as this story is concerned.)
In fact, if you were to ask the citizens of the town what the hooter in Hooterville was, they would all say the same thing: Jenny Mills. In a small town such as this, the townsfolk never got tired of shouting out the same old pithy sayings like, "Jenny puts the hooter in Hooterville." Another thing about small towns was the amount of free time available for gossiping about each other. And no one was the subject of more porch front b.s. sessions than Jenny.
In a big town like Oklahoma City or Topeka, the fancy doctors might have said that Jenny's deplorable, overtly sexual behavior was a result of a medical condition. They would say that anyone sneaking out of the county fair with two blue ribbon watermelons down her dress like she was (if you know what I mean, and I think you do) could not help but engage in such promiscuous behavior.
Of course, the decent folk of Hooterville knew that all the girl needed was a little discipline, something she was not getting at home with that hussy mother of hers. Jenny's mother, the twice-divorced Pamela Mills, worked nightly at a local so-called gentlemen's club twenty miles east into the next town over.
The people of Hooterville knew that without some sort of outside guidance that the impressionable Jenny would follow right along her mother's tawdry path. Now when I say "knew" I truly mean the past tense, for today -- perhaps it's best to begin the story at the beginning.
It was a hot indian summer day. The date and year are of little importance. The high school halls were abuzz with Jenny's latest doings, specifically the doing of young Samuel Cobbler. Samuel was a shy boy of sixteen, who upon first glance would seem to have no problem finding a nice girl if it weren't for his inability to engage in any sort of conversation with the opposite sex.
The rumor that went around concerning the young man and the questionable girl was that Samuel's father decided that he would drag his son into manhood, kicking and screaming if he had to. Although the dollar amount varied depending on the person who would pass the story along, the consensus was that the older Cobbler paid a sum of money to the mother Mills in order for her daughter to shack up for the night with the unworldly boy. A common corollary, a comment if you will, that often followed the telling of the tale would usually go something like, "Why did he bother paying? Everyone knows she would have done him for free."
Tried as she might, Jenny could not ignore the whispers of her classmates as she went to her locker. There was one girl there who had long since given up on the tact of whispering behind someone's back. That girl was Cameron Albrecht, homecoming queen and probably would have been head cheerleader had the school enough willing boys to field a football team. She was a beautiful thing, one whose body threw off the shackles of teenage inadequacy with great verve, leaving in its place a seventeen year old girl who was more than able to compete for the affections of any adult male in the tri-county area. She bore a sultry demeanor, forsaking the whims of teenage fashion for a more grown-up look. Her appearance was simple and alluring in all things. The long auburn hair was straight and silky and purposely kept out of her eyes. She wanted nothing to stand in the way of her high fashion model face (the dainty nose, the high cheekbones, and so forth). She always chose to wear v-neck sweaters and blouses that came just shy of revealing any cleavage. This only made the boys want her more, as they could gauge the size of the bounty underneath (the betting pool was leaning towards a larger size B cup) but the actual sight therein was but a mystery.
Cameron only further contrasted the appearance of Jenny with the rest of her female classmates. Jenny showed no style, unless "now serving number ten" was a style. Starting from the top and working down, the platinum bleach blonde perm was a disarray of long curls that would block her vision at the most inappropriate of times. The face was surprisingly pretty although the make-up was quite overdone, adding to the overall cheap effect. The tops she wore were always small on her, often sheer, and rarely buttoned up more than two or three buttons, allowing the greatest amount of exposure possible to her bosoms. She wore a bra, only out of necessity, as her mummeries (the watermelons that I alluded to earlier, in case you missed it the first two times) would hurt when walking. Most of her bras were black so as to be more noticeable with a light, sheer top. Jenny would always be relieved when the brassiere was off, ending the pinching and allowing her womanly devices to jostle freely. Because few shirts were able to do little but cover her chest, often times her tiny midriff remained bare, only emphasizing more the melons she carried around with her. Rarely, did she wear pants, preferring the look and ease of miniskirts. God paid as much attention to her ass as He did her breasts when making her, so the tiny skirts often had trouble covering the necessary parts, in much the same way as her shirts had their troubles. Due to this, the populace of Hooterville knew another fact about Jenny: She never wore panties. Jenny was seemingly always in the mood (again, whether this was the fault of a physical nature or of a parental nature was unknown) , and when it became unbearable, she would sneak away to the girls' bathroom to relieve the pressure. She refused to wear stockings, seeing them as just another obstacle in her favorite thing to do. With the exception of physical education class, Jenny would only be seen wearing fake leather ankle boots or knee boots.
That particular day (the one that sent the town spiraling), Cameron joked to her best friend, Monette, about the one-night courtship of Jenny and the once-pure Samuel Cobbler, feigning a hushed tone but making sure she spoke loud enough so that the nearby Jenny and most of the students roaming the halls could hear.
"Does this girl have any standards at all?" asked Cameron rhetorically.
"I haven't seen any," the not-so-swift Monette answered anyway.
Please allow for a brief description of Monette for she was a rare breed in Hooterville. With the exception of Jenny and her mother, the families of the rest of the town managed to get by financially; but there was only one rich family in town, and that was Monette and the rest of the Worthers. Daddy Worthers owned a chain of supermarkets within the tri-county area. Since most of the competition were Mom and Pop stores, a hefty profit was made. This gave the family considerable pull in town affairs. While the town was not dependent on the Worthers for funds and jobs, if the family wanted something down there would always be someone willing to have their palm greased. It was this pull that allowed the ignoramus-child Monette Worthers to get as far academically as she had. Monette latched onto Cameron at an early age, seeing a mental spark in that girl that she had just enough smarts to know she did not possess. Cameron was willing to oblige, never one to turn down a completely loyal, rich friend. It was also the family pull (and the popularity of hanging around Cameron) that allowed the aesthetically displeasing Monette to gain suitors. A tad chubby, and not much facially, the girl tried to make up for it by following the latest trends. Unfortunately, the randomness of the cosmetics and hair combined with assorted mismatched fashions, gave her more of a clown appearance than anything else.
Back to the story at hand, Jenny always got the most flustered when the snide comments came from Cameron. Not wanting to feel the entire barrage of that day's attacks she scampered off into the ladies' room.
Seeing the whole thing was Valerie, one of the few people who showed any compassion towards Jenny, despite being revolted by her wanton actions. Being a very smart girl, Valerie saw Jenny's problem as one of lack of education. In other words. the girl did not know any better than to act that way. Valerie walked hastily into the ladies' room. In one of the stalls sat Jenny, hunched over and crying.
Valerie got to one knee in front of the stall and tried comforting Jenny by telling her, "Don't let them get to you like that."
"But they don't understand how hard it is for me."
While Valerie did try to help Jenny, she was not going to buy the argument that she was not in full control of her actions.
"Maybe if you toned it down a little," Valerie suggested as nicely as she could.
"You don't understand! You don't go out with boys!"
That was not entirely true. Valerie, while not a knockout, was a subtle beauty. (Yes, folks, it's exposition time.) Her hair in a bob, and a cute face which always wore a pair of fetching glasses, she knew how to make the most of her given looks. Her body was trim and appealing, featuring a pair of small but perky B-cups. She tended to wear clothes, such as turtlenecks and long skirts, which made her appear classy yet still retain some femininity.
While it was true that Valerie had never gone out on an official date with a boy, she had in a way gone out with a boy for several years. His name was Richard and he too saw a world beyond Hooterville. Many nights were spent engaging in deep conversations, and every so often they would try a little experiment in the areas of kissing. They were both fairly awkward romantically, so they never went too far. They already had decided to go together at the senior prom, where Valerie believed (and hoped) that their relationship would go to the next stage. Or two.
Valerie decided that, despite that little jab at her lack of dating skills, it was best not to go into detail about Richard to Jenny, since it was fairly immaterial to the situation at hand. She tried giving her a hug, lying to her by saying that "everything would be all right"
"HEY!" came a shout from behind Valerie, "Get your crybaby asses out of here."
The voice was that of Emma. Every small town needed a tomboy and she was it. Since the school was not big enough for any sports teams, she joined an independent team of high-school-aged girls in year round softball. She was very proud of her accomplishments there, and was willing to go to Yabboville three times a week to play. She saw little use in fancy get-ups and decided it was just easier to keep a head of short hair, which was rarely seen due to the caps she often wore. She was a tall and muscular girl who looked about as womanly as your average male baseball player.
The school bell rang, indicating that students needed to be in class. Valerie apologized and left, and Emma stormed out, leaving Jenny. She didn't budge a muscle as she really didn't care what was going on in class.
"Man, I wanna get back at those guys," she mumbled to herself.
"I'm sorry, I missed that last part" spoke a strange man in a beige suit and bowtie. Jenny was startled, and jumped to her feet, but fell quickly back on the toilet. The strange man extended his arm and helped pull her up. Jenny tried to say something, but her voice froze.
"Oh, I'm sorry," said the cheerful man, "Allow me to introduce my self. My name is Jan and I hear you have a problem."
"Oh yeah. You see--"
Jan was a cheerful man but not a patient man. "I know of your troubles, and I wish to help."
"Are you gonna beat up Cameron for me?"
"Nothing so crude, my lady. You need to be thinking on a grander scale. This does not just involve Cameron, but everyone in Hooterville makes fun of you."
"I know," said Jenny sorrowfully.
"I know you know," explained a less-patient Jan, "and that's why I want you to think back to all the abuse the people have given you. Tell me what you wish for and I'll grant the revenge you want."
She was too dumb to be truly vengeful. She simply thought that people did not understand why she did the things she did.
"I wish the women of this town understood how hard it is to be like me," she cried, not realizing their eventual impact.
Not the death and destruction that Jan had expected but he knew it would work.
"So you want them to get to know how you feel."
"Yeah, like my first daddy always said, 'Give them a mile, and they'll walk in your shoes.' Or something like that."
"Yeah, something like that."
The next morning appeared to be pretty much the same as the previous morning, but now the wheels were set in motion. Valerie woke up feeling pretty good. Normally it took a few smacks on the snooze button before she got out of bed, but that day, she was up and ready to take on the world.
At the breakfast table she saw that her mother was in the same kind of chipper mood as she was. Plus she was looking pretty good too. It was probably those Richard Simmons tapes she got for Christmas the year before. Speaking of Richard (not Simmons, but the young lad who possessed Valerie's heart), she was going to walk with him to school that day so she had to hurry.
She met up with Richard who she thought was looking extra nice that day. He was a little startled when halfway up the road, she took his left hand and held it with her right. She swung their arms back and forth as they walked onward. This was not the morning hater that Richard had walked with so many times before.
At class, while things in the halls seemed rather lively, there also seemed to be an air of confusion. One girl was standing in front of her open locker trying to remember what book she needed for first period. Another girl was having trouble remembering what her locker combination was, while the rich girl, Monette, was going from classroom to classroom asking if that one was the one she had to go to first.
As the kids say, a lot of people just seemed to be "out of it". It wasn't just the students that had a bit of rattling going on in their noggins, but a number of the teachers (namely, the lady ones) would stop in the middle of a sentence, or lose their place when reading. There were a few chuckles in a late study hall as students described one teacher who was speaking, then looked out the window. She stared at the trees for a good ten minutes before someone spoke up.
Valerie, Jenny, Cameron, and Emma shared last-period gym class. In the girls' locker room, talk was all about how the indian summer made wearing bras so uncomfortable. A number of the girls complained how the heat must be shrinking their various undergarments because they were feeling snug.
"This thing is so tight I feel like I've got Stripper Girl's chest," remarked the snooty Cameron, referring to Jenny, who sat quietly at the other end of the locker room. "So what are you gonna do tonight, Stripper Girl? You got some fourteen year old boys lined up tonight? You going to the old folks home and fine some big crusty old man and get him to stick big crusty old dick in you?" Cameron asked, each word losing a hint of its mocking tone.
As class progressed, the tightness in the girls' chests got worse, and there was a fair amount of moaning about having to do so much exercise on such a hot day. The girls were running laps around the school (as there was little need for a track), when Emma made it across the finish line, the coach decided he was not getting 100% from the school's best athlete (who he also coached in that softball league). He started a tirade, and the other girls that were there waited for the shouting match that usually started once he started yelling. To everyone's surprise, Emma looked a bit confused for a moment then quietly told him, "I'll try harder coach."
Later that evening, Richard called Valerie to invite her to the movies. Now, don't think that they had ulterior motives for being alone in a dark place. They were film buffs, and they always liked to go together and compare notes. Valerie's mother didn't always see it as being so innocent. She trusted Richard, but only to a point. She knew that he was an upstanding gentleman but that he also was a teenaged boy which meant he had thoughts that her mother had warned her about many years before when she was that age. Valerie asked her mom in as polite a manner as possible if she could go to the movies, quietly adding in that she would be going with Richard. Her mother smiled. She had her arm around her husband as they watched television.
"Of course you can go," she cooed, "Here's some money."
That was quite odd for a woman who stressed the value of a dollar whenever she could. Valerie decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth and simply joked, "You don't have to push me out of the house, Mom."
The latest and greatest psychological thriller of six months ago was playing for its first week at the Hooterville Cinema. When they first heard about it, Valerie and Richard hoped that it would be a movie filled with intricate plot twists and suspense, as opposed to the scripts by committee that Hollywood usually comes out with. But there in the theater, Valerie wasn't too concerned about foreshadowing and cinematography. She just got goose bumps watching all the scary things happening up on the big screen. Luckily for her, Richard was there to keep her safe.
Near the climax, Richard asked her if she guessed who the killer was. When he didn't get an answer, he turned to see if she was okay, and that was when she planted a big wet one on him. He didn't resist and they started making out in the theater, something they had never done before.
After the movie, Valerie was a little surprised at herself for what she had done. She asked to skip the usual discussion session at the pizza parlor and asked to go home. He walked her home, and she restrained herself enough to give him just a little peck on the kiss at the front porch.
Figuring that her parents were up, she expected to hear the television on when she went inside the house. The lights were out. She assumed they went up to bed early. She was only partially right, as she heard noises that she didn't want to be hearing in her state of mind: the rhythmic sounds of headboard smacking against bedroom wall.
Elsewhere, Cameron, the snob, was by the lake in her boyfriend's car. The lake was a traditional make out point, but some people would went well beyond innocent necking. Often times, Cameron would see Jenny here, and she didn't need two guesses to figure what her intentions were. Cameron vowed not to be like that. Sure she would neck with a boy, maybe let him go to second base if he bought her something nice, but she knew by giving it up she would lose any and all power. That night was going to be another ordinary night by the lake for her. But then the boyfriend started massaging her neck and she felt a spark. Her urges were beyond control. All for a boy who she had only gone out with for a week, and he had not yet even bought her anything. She took the initiative and though him down flat onto the backseat. She started taking off her clothes as fast as she could, and everyone by the lake could hear, clear as day, two words: "Damn stockings!"
Morning came around and no one (specifically no girl) thought it to be an ordinary day. Those girls who had not yet experienced in their lives a night of passion felt a certain wonderful yearning that they could not quite put their fingers on. Those who had, including Valerie's mother, Cameron, and most of the town's adult women, knew the feeling and were ready and willing to act upon it.
All the girls of high-school age and up looked into their mirrors to see that their womanly forms (tits, for the cruder among us) had grown about a cup size, they also saw that body fat decreased, and that their hair grew longer. None of this really concerned any of the girls as the changes made them happy and their minds were content and did not wish to try to figure out a why or a how.
Valerie decided to go without a bra as she couldn't find one that fit. She wore a big sweater which that day barely hit the top of her bellybutton. She wanted to show off her legs a bit so she wore the knee-length skirt that she only wore once before. Downstairs at breakfast were two happy parents. The father who looked physically spent but wore a big smile on his face. Then the mother, who had the makeup on and was dressed ready for a night on the town, despite it being just past the rooster's crow.
Richard and Valerie took their usual walk together up to school. Just like the day before, noting how bright and chipper she was, Richard quipped to Valerie about how she usually thought the best time for morning was noon. Valerie shrugged off the comment, not quite comprehending how it could be morning and noon at the same time. She just liked hearing her man talk and being with him. For the second day in a row they held hands, although not nearly as long. Soon, she took her hand and placed it into his back pants pocket. A little confused and all, Richard nevertheless did not object (gift horse and all that). He simply put his arm around her waist and continued onward.
The school was like a hurricane, a mass of controlled chaos. The principle, usually one to admonish Jenny for her bare-all fashions, roamed the hallway in her denim jacket and skirt complimenting the girls she saw on all their daring wear. And what they wore sent the young boys into a world-class tizzy. In fact, the men teachers were agog, not only by the young pupils rocketing light years into womanhood, but by their women coworkers sending their inhibitions to the town dump. In fact, one lady teacher had to leave a science class twice in one period to relieve the fiery stresses her body was putting itself through.
Talk in the boys' locker room was the same as it usually was, except the stories being told were not tall tales but blissfully real. Neither the boys nor the male teachers took an outside look on the situation. It wasn't that there weren't smart men in Hooterville, it was just that when the blood rushed away from the "there's something strange going on" portion of the brain and into the "I want this to go on forever" portion of the man's body, cause and effect weren't topping any guy's to do list.
In fourth-period French class, Valerie gazed out into space not paying attention to all those words the teacher was saying, that she really did not understand. Richard was in the same class and he noticed how oddly she had been acting.
"Are you feeling okay?" he whispered to her.
"Oh, I'm fine," she said honestly, flashing a big smile.
"What happened to your glasses?" he asked, noticing she wasn't wearing glasses, like she had for the past seven years.
"They were ugly. I only need them for stuff like reading."
In the girls' locker room, in the last period, it was all topsy-turvy. Normally the girls would snicker and harass Jenny about the things she did after school. That day, the girls, including Jenny, were giggling and comparing sexual conquests, including Cameron who went into great detail about her night by the lake. A few of the girls even asked Jenny advice on things such as make-up or how to please a man.
Valerie heard the wonderful tales being told by the other girls and realized that she had been missing out. She told the teacher, that she was sick and had to see the nurse. The teacher, too busy ogling the young ladies who all seemed to be braless, let her go with little fuss.
She headed over to Richard's math class, where the teacher had trouble concentrating what with the Morisson twins looking so lovely together in the front row. Valerie knocked on the door and said that Richard had a phone call from home. Not really caring, the teacher let Richard go with barely a mumble out of his mouth.
Outside the classroom, Richard asked, "Why is my Mom calling here?"
"No, silly, I just was having no fun in gym, so I came to get you so we could cut out early."
He decided not to argue, even when instead of using the cut to leave school, she led him into a dark maintenance closet.
"Just sit back and enjoy," was all he heard in the darkness, as he felt a tongue touch him where no tongue had ever touched him before. It took him all of about thirty seconds before he released his load.
Valerie walked in the door feeling very good about her oral performance that afternoon, finally feeling like one of the girls. She saw her mother's head from behind the couch and shouted, "Hey, Mom!"
Her mother jumped up, ripping her fingers out from in her slacks.
"I didn't realize you were coming home so early."
"They let us out early. I'll be heading upstairs until dinner."
Valerie thought her mom was acting very strangely. As she sat on her bed thinking about Richard, she thought maybe her mom had the right idea.
The next morning, the day that it all came to a head, Valerie woke up feeling great. She looked in her mirror and was pleased with what she saw, but saw nothing terribly peculiar. She opened her drawers, deciding what to wear, but again saw nothing peculiar. As she headed downstairs, Valerie just knew that today was going to be a very big day.
Valerie's father heard his daughter coming into the kitchen. Normally in the morning, Valerie's mother would have been up making breakfast for the family. That morning, though, she was busy planning to spend the day in bed with her husband (who decided that every so often in a man's life, an event of such potential and greatness warranted calling in sick to work).
While Valerie's mother was "in preparation", her father was downstairs, making himself a quick breakfast, so as to have enough energy for the day's upcoming events. He figured that if she did even half of the things to him that she said she would do, then he could dig himself a hole six feet under, jump in, and die a happy man.
As he looked in the refrigerator for something to drink, he told his daughter that she would have to make her own breakfast that morning. He then took the carton of orange juice out, and closed the fridge door, seeing for the first time that day what his daughter looked like. It amazed him so much that he dropped the carton, spilling juice everywhere.
He saw that she appeared to have bleached and permed her hair (or at least it looked that way, although that was how it was when she woke up). She had extra curly bleach-blonde locks going every which way. She wore a mask of make-up that shouted whore, from the multiple coats of lipstick and lip gloss, to the dark shade of mascara over each eye. The most startling change were the massive breasts and erect nipples that jutted out of her excuse for a shirt. On anyone besides his daughter, he would have refer to them as "huge jugs". The shirt was not buttoned, but instead tied off at the bottom, exposing her midriff which emphasized the breasts even further. She had on what looked to be one of her own skirts, although its hem line was visibly shortened by a pair of scissors. It was shortened to such a point, that the bottom of her ass was visible even as she stood straight up. She wore no stockings, just a pair of leather boots with extra high heels, and whose tops reached just above her knees.
"You are NOT going out of the house like THAT! What's happened to you?!"
"Nothing Daddy," she said, trying to sound like a little girl, "I just need to show off my big boobies so the boys'll like me. You don't know how much I want to suck their big pricks, Daddy," in as casual manner as if to say she wanted toast with breakfast.
"GO UPSTAIRS! YOU ARE NEVER LEAVING THIS HOUSE AGAIN!"
"What's all the yelling?" asked Valerie's mother, who stood mostly naked in the kitchen doorway.
She too had seemingly dyed and curled her hair (and it somehow had gotten longer, the father barely noticed subconsciously). She too wore an excessive amount of make-up, letting anyone who saw her know that she was ready for sex. She was topless, sporting boobs as large as her daughter's (much, much larger than they had ever been before). She wore a pair of white crotches panties and a pair of white go-go boots.
"What's the problem?!" he asked, a bit calmer seeing his wife naked in the kitchen. "Look at our daughter. She's become some kind of tramp."
Seeing nothing wrong with the way her daughter was dressed, Valerie's mother sauntered over to her husband. She kissed him at various points, starting as his neck and worked downward. Inbetween kisses she explained, "She's just going through a phase. We have a very good girl. We can trust her."
He was about to respond when he felt something. He looked down a saw that his wife had pulled down his pajamas bottoms and grabbed hold of his cock. She placed it between her tits and started rocking back and forth. At that moment, he forgot he had a daughter and just went with the moment, allowing Valerie to head to school.
Richard and Valerie were late for school. During the walk up, they hit a secluded area where Valerie threw her man to the ground and gave him a quickie. It did not matter they were late though since -- well it simply did not matter.
The hallways were filled with girls and boys and teachers having sex. To Valerie's left was her bestest friend Cameron, who looked really good with her bleach blonde hair and her big boobies. She was on top of science teacher Mr. Enwright, feverishly pumping away trying to get every inch she could inside of her. Next to her was Valerie's bestest friend Monette (who also was looking good with her frizzy blonde hair and giant, round breasts, was happily sucking away on Cameron's boyfriend's prick. To Valerie's right among the various groupings, she was happy to see that Emma decided to start looking like a girl (and getting "big boobies" like hers surely helped). Emma was working with the principal (also bleach-blonde, also stacked) to bang a nice boy from her homeroom silly.
Walking up to Valerie was her bestest of bestest of friends, Jenny. She was walking hand and hand with a young male teacher. Jenny proudly stood, drenched in sweat (among other things) and her blouse unbuttoned allowing immediate access to her wonderful breasts.
"Hey, guys, isn't this great? Everybody's having so much fun," said a giddy Jenny.
Valerie couldn't take her eyes off of the young teacher. She hoped that he wasn't too spent to have a go at it. She led him to a classroom that only had one couple in it. Richard was about to say something when Jenny wrapped her arms around his body, pressing her mounds of titflesh up against him. When she felt his manhood stiffly pressing against her, she fell to her knees and proceeded to unzip his fly. There, she spoke unknowingly profound words, "I like being me."
A few days later, the adult men of Hooterville had themselves a meeting. As any group men would when faced with such a problem, they came to the conclusion that it was absolutely not a problem. The only problem came from making sure nothing happened that would change their "problem".
A strip club was built just within the border of the town. It was called the "Hooterville Club" (the folks of the town were wise enough to create the club, but not smart enough to give it a better name). All the girls of high-school age and up (meaning all the women in town altered) worked at the club in one capacity or another.
Luckily, for Hooterville, Jenny was born with a disease which left her sterile, and this was yet another trait passed on to the townswomen (if she did not have the disease, Jenny probably would have been pregnant twice over by the time she hit seventeen). This would be important as the real money for the club came in the back rooms and the girls' hunger for sex needed to be met.
The men tried their best to keep outsiders out of town except when entering the club. Occasionally, a vacationer, or a wanderer, or a tax assessor would stumble into town. If that person was a man, he would be given the choice the stay or die where he stood (or else he might reveal the secret). If the person was a woman, they needed to knew nothing. For when Jan granted the wish which made the women in Hooterville see what it was to be like Jenny, the effect remained long after, affecting even those who unfortunate women who enter at a later date.
As for Jan (son of Janus, Roman god of beginnings), he stood outside of town heading anywhere else. He took one last look on the bit of mischief he made, seeing the beginning of a new era for the town. He noticed the Now Leaving Hooterville sign.
"This town's called Hooterville? Oh, that's funny," he said to himself.