Come to College II

by

Adrian Burns

Copyright 2001 © Adrian Burns. All rights reserved

Flatty Patty Strikes Back

Disclaimer: If you SHOULD NOT be reading this story — DON'T!!!

Author's Note: This is a sequel to Joe Average's story Come To College,
which I highly recommend reading.

The room was spotless. That was the judgment of Patricia Harding a.k.a. "Flatty Patty", who had already cleaned the room twice, but was seriously considering cleaning it again.
    "But it doesn't need cleaning," she said aloud, surveying her handiwork. "Surgical rooms aren't this sterile."
    Of course, that was just her opinion, and she knew it wasn't the one that counted. What would Mistress Titty think about the room? She asked herself. That was the question. She asked it, received her answer, and knew the room would receive yet another cleaning.
    "The things I do for tits," she said aloud as she vacuumed the dorm room for the third time that day.
    Cleaning a spotless room was an everyday thing for Patty. Her Mistress commanded it and Patty always did what her Mistress commanded. Who cared the room didn't need cleaning — Mistress Titty commanded it. Who cared about Patty flunking out of college because she spent so much time cleaning up a spotless dorm room — Mistress Titty commanded it. "Well, fuck you, Mistress Titty!" Patty screamed.
    Patty looked around nervously. She shouldn't have said that aloud. Walls have ears. Mistress Titty could have heard her. Then what would she do?
    As if to emphasize the seriousness of her question, she shut off the vacuum, instantly. She had to be sure. Her ears ringing, she listened...and heard nothing.
    That was all it took. Once Patty realized that Mistress Titty did not hear her, she experienced a great deal of peace of mind. She was now able to focus on something else entirely. So, she focused on what she always did when she cleaned her Mistress' abode: the full-size refrigerator in the kitchen area and the white line in front of it.
    The white line was a necessary guide enabling Patty's Mistress to clear the fridge without bumping her tits. All she had to do was stand behind the line and the door of the refrigerator could not touch her. It sounded like a simple system to Patty but, apparently, it wasn't. She could see evidence of someone moving the line backwards as if her Mistress grew, then forward again, as if she shrunk.
    "Ah, who gives a fuck?" Patty mumbled under her breath. She didn't care about lines or anything else outside the fridge. She only cared about its insides.
    Inside it was the Formula, the secret chemical that would give her breasts rivaling those of her Mistress. A Mistress who trusted Patty so little that she secured the fridge with two industrial strength chains and two Secure-Pro padlocks.
    She did this just before Patty officially moved in with her. It was, in her words: "A necessary precaution to prevent Patty from getting uppity like her previous slave".
    "Previous slave"? When Patty heard those words, she wanted to drop the little shy girl act she had going on. She wanted — so badly — to tell Mistress Titty she could take those jugs of hers and go tit-fuck herself. Then Patty's eyes caught sight of Titty's former slave — who happened to be her former Mistress, Busty Blossom — and changed her mind.
    Looking at this petite woman — standing no taller than five foot tall — wearing a threadbare man's T-shirt, cut-off denim jeans, and red fuck-me pumps, Patty knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was looking at the biggest... bounciest... sexiest pair of tits on campus. Tits that Patty herself wanted. Even if she had to be a slave to get them.
    What she didn't figure on was the time factor. The collegiate grapevine said that Busty Blossom acquired her tits virtually overnight. Patty felt she would get her tits just as quickly. However, it wasn't happening. Mistress Titty was holding her back. She was doling out the secret formula so slowly that Patty felt she would be in graduate school before she finally got the tits she wanted.
    It was torture. Everyday Patty would clean the dorm room and everyday she would face the fridge. She couldn't help it. The fridge contained the Formula. Who cared about the chains and padlocks? They were fucking jokes.
    Patty knew she could break the locks. Hell, she could probably even pick them. But what if Titty caught her? Patty's Mistress was the type to know the Formula's exact amount. She would notice if one drop were missing.
    Thus, Patty had to do it her Mistress's way. She had to bide her time and do as Titty commanded. Anything else would be like killing the goose that laid the golden eggs. "But damn, it's taking so long," she sighed.
    Patty forced herself away from the refrigerator. She couldn't let temptation get the best of her. Her future tits depended on it.
    As Patty thought about her future tits, she caught her reflected image in a mirror. Walking towards the mirror, she started throwing out her chest. She was bigger, she admitted to herself reluctantly. Even her best friends, Bertha and Mimi, could tell her breasts had done some growing. It just wasn't enough growing. Patty knew what was possible. Mistress Titty and Busty Blossom were what was possible. Anything else was unacceptable.
    "Hellooo," a voice boomed, interrupting her thoughts, as the door to their dorm room opened.
    "Mistress Titty," Patty said, putting on her best servant's accent, "you've returned."
    "Yes, Flatty, I have," she replied, not noticing the frown that passed briefly over her slave's face.
    "How may I serve you?"
    "By doing your job."
    "Pardon, Mistress?" a confused Patty, asked.
    "Your daily chores, Flatty, are still not done."
    "But Mistress, I've done your laundry, typed your homework, and waxed your car."
    "Yes, all the minor stuff," Titty said. "But my home — my castle..."
    "Has been cleaned three times today."
    Titty shot Patty an evil look for interrupting her train of thought. Her slave knew better. She waited a moment for the Flat One to realize she crossed the line and said: "I see lint."
    "Pardon, Mistress?"
    "I see a lint ball," Titty said, pointing at the object in question. "Remove it, Flatty. Remove it, NOW!!!"
    This was ridiculous, Patty thought. It's just a piece of lint. It's not like the thing is single-handedly destroying the ozone layer or something. Get a grip, Titty.
    Those were Patty's thoughts. Her actions, however, were a lot different. She leapt on the lint like a cat pouncing on a mouse. Holding it in both her hands — lest it get away — she lifted it towards her Mistress, preparing to show her that she had indeed captured the offending particle.
    "I don't want to see it! Get rid of the damn thing!"
    Patty ran to the dorm's bathroom with track star speed and flushed the lint.
    Returning to Titty, she announced: "The lint is gone, my Mistress."
    "Flatty, how you do disappoint me."
    "Mistress..."
    "Here, I was about to give you some of the Formula. Out of the kindness of my heart, of course, and you can't do something as simple as keep my castle lint-free."
    Castle? Patty thought, quickly biting her tongue. She didn't want to say anything Mistress Titty would find inappropriate.
    "I have male suitors, you know?" Titty continued.
    "Male suitors"? Oh, yeah, that's what she called her fuck buddies.
    "My male suitors would not approve of lint, Flatty. They would not approve at all."
    "Mistress, I'm sorry. I'm really sorry."
    "Sorry is not enough, Flatty."
    Oh, no, the bitch wants tears. Well, here goes nothing; Patty sighed, suddenly jabbing her fingernails into her hands. Not enough to draw blood, of course, just tears. How do those actors do it? She wondered, as the first tear came to her eye.
    "Please forgive me, Mistress," she sobbed to Titty.
    The tears running down Patty's face had the desired effect. They placated Titty. Flatty Patty was so much better than that bitch, Blossom, she thought, intentionally forgetting that if it wasn't for that bitch Blossom, she wouldn't have Patty in the first place.
    Titty let Patty's begging and sobbing continue. She probably — as she did many times in the past — would have let Patty cry all night, but then she thought about Jack. Make that, she thought about Jack's dick...all 12-plus inches of it. It was due to arrive in no time. Which was why she came home in the first place.
    "Your Mistress is a merciful one, Flatty. She will give you another opportunity to clean the castle before her male suitor arrives," she suddenly said, directing Patty to stop the waterworks. It had gotten old.
    Yes, Mistress," Patty said, thinking that her Mistress's fuck buddies never looked at the dorm room — or Patty, herself, for that matter — all they cared about was Titty's tits.
    Titty was heading towards the bathroom to make her beauty even more so, when she noticed her slave hadn't started the re-cleaning yet. "Do you have a problem, Flatty?" she asked.
    "Uh, Mistress, I was wondering about the — the Formula."
    "What about it?"
    "Well, it just seems like it's been awhile since, you know, you gave me any," Patty said sheepishly. Boy, she hated talking like this. It was so degrading.
    "And..."
    Bitch, bitch, bitch, chanted Patty mentally. "Well, Mistress," she said aloud, "I was just wondering if out of your grand and majestic mercifulness, you would be willing to bestow on your lowly servant a little of your formula."
    Titty stared at Patty, weighing her options. On one hand, she didn't want a repeat of the Blossom fiasco (good slaves were hard to get), and yet, on the other hand, if she didn't give Flatty something, she might have a strike on her hands. Ah, decisions decisions.
    "Maybe," Titty said, dismissing Patty by stepping into the dorm's bathroom.
    Patty waited until she heard the shower running. Then she waited a while longer. Feeling somewhat secured, she said in the loudest whisper she could muster: "Maybe? You bitch. You'll get yours. Just you wait you big-titted bitch, I'll show you..."
    "Did you say something, Flatty?" Titty asked from the shower.
    "No, Mistress," Patty said in her normal voice. Then returning to her loud whisper, she added: "You fucking bitch."
    That helped. Venting some of her built up rage — even by whispering loudly — always helped. Now Patty could go about her cleaning, or re-cleaning, of the room. She was doing her best to remove any lint or anything that remotely looked like lint, when she heard a knock on the door. Going to it, she announced formally: "Mistress Titty's residence, how may I help you?"
    "Open the door," a man's voice replied.
    "Who may I say is calling?"
    "It's Jack," the voice said more urgently. "Open the door."
    "Mistress Titty is still in the shower. Do you mind..."
    "Bitch, I said 'open the door'. Don't make me knock the fucker down!"
    The voice sounded serious. It also sounded like the speaker was more than capable of acting on his threat. Thus, Patty opened the door instantly. Before she could remove her hand from the doorknob, a rhino-like force flew through the dorm room knocking her on the ground.
    As Patty righted herself, rubbing her sore bottom, she noticed an overgrown young man with a brush haircut wearing a football jersey. At least, he was wearing a football jersey. It, like the rest of the man's clothes, was flying hither and yon as the man frantically disrobed.
    Thanks a lot, Patty thought, watching a room she meticulously and repeatedly cleaned become this guy's personal dumping ground. Now I'll be blamed for your sloppy ass.
    "Where is she?" the hulking slob asked.
    Patty looked at her Mistress' male suitor in all his naked glory. To say she liked what she saw would have been an understatement. "Hot damn," she said aloud, her eyes taking in his rugged good looks, hard-muscled physique, and horse-like dick. It was pointing right at her.
    "Oh, Jack," Titty said in her sultriest of tones, emerging, as if on cue, from the bathroom behind Jack, "I see you got yourself all naked for little old me."
    "No talk, Titty," Jack grunted, charging towards her. "Want fuck."
    "Oh, Jack, you do have a way with words."
    Patty watched as Jack scooped Mistress Titty up in his massive arms and deposited her roughly on the bed. He then rammed his flesh-rod; all 12+ inches of it, into Titty, causing her to yell the loudest and longest utterance of the letter sandwiched between "N" and "P" in recorded history.
    This was usually Patty's cue to leave. But not this time. Titty possessed something she wanted and she planned on collecting. Patty would just stand near her Mistress' bed and play voyeur.
    She watched Jack fuck Titty like a pneumatic pump. His machine-like strokes went up and down non-stop. Those were his actions below the waist. Above, his hands were occupied totally by Titty's tits. Tits so massive that even Jack's huge hands could not contain them. They tried their best, though.
    Patty watched the hands massage the mounds and tweak the nipples of her Mistress. She so wished her much smaller tits were the ones receiving all that attention. She got wet just thinking about it. To know that even Jack's massive hands could not fully encompass your massive mounds was enough to make a girl...
    "Flatty, what are you still doing here," Titty's voice interrupted. "I dismissed you."
    Patty missed Jack's hard and heavy piston-like strokes settling into a more gentle rhythm. This shifting from machine-like performance to something more human in nature allowed Titty to open her eyes for the first time since Jack impaled her with his flesh rod. Of course, the first thing she noticed was that her slave, Flatty Patty, was still in the room.
    "Uh, Mistress, I haven't received my Formula, yet," Patty said nervously.
    "And you're not going to."
    "But, Mistress," Patty said, trying her best not to cuss the bitch out, "being as merciful as you are, couldn't you give me the combination to the fridge's locks and let me, uh, help myself."
    Titty stared hard at Patty, her laser-like eyes trying their best to obliterate Patty. Jack was trying to continue their lovemaking, but Titty, suddenly and tightly grabbing hold of his cock, put an end to that. "Hear me loud and clear, Flatty," she said. "You will never, ever, under any circumstances go into that fridge without my permission. You hear me?"
    "Yes, Mistress, but..."
    "No buts! Touch the formula and that's it — no more tits for you. Is that what you want, Flatty?"
    "No Mistress," Patty said, her head slumping low.
    "That's what I thought," Titty said with a smirk.
    Patty felt like she was going to explode. How much more was she expected to do for tits? Clean, grovel, serve — it was all becoming too much. She had to do something and she had to...
    "Flatty," Titty called, interrupting her slave's train of thought.
    "Yes, Mistress," Patty answered.
    "Why don't you take a fucking hike now, okay? Jack and I want to fuck."
    Patty was stunned. She didn't know what to say or do. Her mouth opened but no words came out. She walked towards the bed, then walked away from it. Finally, she went to the dorm's front door and just left. There was only one thing she could do — only one place she could go — she had to see her friends.
    "That was pretty shitty, Titty," Jack said after Patty left.
    "What'd you say?"
    "How you treated, what's-her-name. I thought that was fucked up."
    "Well, fuck you," she said, shoving Jack off her.
    "That was the plan," Jack said, not realizing that Titty's mood was no longer a pleasant one.
    Titty exited the bed and started throwing Jack his discarded clothing. "If you care so much about, Flatty, Jack, then you can get the fuck out, too."
    "But, Titty..." Jack whined, while dodging a black Nike running shoe flying towards his head.
    "Out," she said, her index finger pointing towards the door.
    Jack was still in the middle of dressing when textbooks came flying his way. He thought for a moment of using his brute strength to teach Titty a lesson. Then he thought of Titty's massive endowments, which was somewhat easy to do since she hadn't covered them up yet, and changed his mind. He'd do as she said and leave. Still as he heard the echoing of Titty's dorm door — she slammed it in his face — he thought that there were other ways besides the direct approach to get him some revenge.

Patty, on the other side of the campus grounds, was also thinking about revenge. She had left her home a.k.a. Titty's castle, and walked to Nerd Hall where her friends, Bertha and Mimi, lived.
    At one time, Nerd Hall was prestigious. Named after one of the university's Founding
Fathers, Jefferson Joseph Nerd — scientist and explorer — the building used to mean something. Not any more, though.
    Patty, having once lived in Nerd Hall, had firsthand experience. It was like being a character in Revenge of the Nerds. Anyone remotely classifiable as a geek, misfit, weirdo, and, of course, nerd found themselves in Nerd Hall. It was straight-up segregation, downright discriminatory, and ignoble in its illegality. How did Nerd Hall even exist in this era of political correctness?
    Unfortunately, it did exist. Before she met Busty Blossom, the petite freshman with tits that dwarfed even Titty's, Patty was just another nerd stuck in Nerd Hall. Stuck was an understatement. She, and the other students like her, were apparently so plentiful that there wasn't enough room in Nerd Hall for them. Thus, overpopulation and overcrowding were the order of the day.
    As she walked towards her room assignment that first day, Patty couldn't help think that if the "nerds" were the majority on campus how come they didn't just mobilize and get the housing space they so richly deserved. As soon as she voiced that thought in her head, Patty heard it said almost verbatim aloud. She turned in the direction of the speaker, encountering for the first time her future best friend, Bertha Billings.
    Patty's first thought after noting that her and Bertha shared similar thoughts was a comment on her new roommate's size. The girl was a giant.
    Bertha was an African-American standing at a height of 6' 4" and weighing in the neighborhood of 300 lbs. Her smooth dark skin, full lips, and ample derrière seemed to bestow on her a regal beauty that coupled with her massive frame made Patty almost bow in her presence. Staring at Bertha's face, framed by an intricate arrangement of braids and beaded jewels, Patty saw what was once an intense look of intimidating scrutiny transform instantly into a grandiose smile of acceptance. She didn't know it yet, but Patty was just judged and befriended by Bertha.
    "And who might you be?" Bertha asked in a powerful voice that seemed to fill every inch of the room.
    "I'm — I'm Patricia, uh, Patty Morgan."
    "Well, Patricia, uh, Patty Morgan," Bertha said with a laugh, "I'm Bertha Billings and this here is Mimi Chang."
    Like a magic trick — "now you see her, now you don't" — Patty saw Mimi appear. One moment, Patty saw Bertha seemingly talking to herself, and the next she saw Mimi. All it took for this "magic" to take place was Bertha taking a single step to the side.
    "Uh, hi, Mimi, is it?" Patty asked nervously.
    "Like, hi, yourself," Mimi answered in stereotypical Valley-Girl speak.
    Patty stared at Mimi trying to reconcile the voice she just heard with the body she was looking at. Mimi was as small as Bertha was tall. Standing 4' 10" and looking like she would never see 100 pounds in this lifetime, Mimi's delicate features and long, black hair suggested subservient geisha. However, her manners, attitude, and voice were clearly California.
    "Patty, welcome to Nerd Hall," Bertha and Mimi said simultaneously, breaking into a laugh when they caught themselves echoing the other. "Jinx."
    Patty was having trouble thinking. She didn't know how to deal with her roommates just yet. Therefore, when she heard Nerd Hall, she said the first thing that came to her mind: "What the hell are you two doing in Nerd Hall?"
    The roommates stared at each other, then in unison said, "Pardon?" which caused them to start laughing again.
    "Well, you, Bertha," Patty said, pointing to the ebony giant, "with your size and height, shouldn't you be hanging out with the fem-jocks or something?"
    "Not really."
    "And you, Mimi," Patty continued, not hearing Bertha's response, "with your looks and cheerleader-like personality..."
    "Who you calling cheerleader?" Mimi asked Patty angrily.
    "Shouldn't you be hanging out with the Princesses or something?" Patty concluded, taking her first breath since she started talking.
    "Stereotypes," Bertha said.
    "And she showed such promise," Mimi said.
    "Guess we'll have to educate her," Bertha continued.
    "Indeed," Mimi said in her deepest voice. She was doing her best imitation of a Japanese wrestler she saw on WWF's Smackdown.
    "Patty," Bertha began, getting Patty's attention, "I'm not a fem-jock."
    "And, Patty," Mimi said doing her best Bertha, "I'm not, nor will I ever be, a cheerleader."
    "Why?" Patty asked.
    As if they'd been rehearsing it for weeks, just waiting for the right time, place, and audience, Bertha and Mimi withdrew matching pairs of glasses from their pants pockets. Patty watched, amazed, as her roommates placed their twin spectacles on the very tips of their noses. Turning towards Patty, slowly so they didn't drop their glasses on the ground, Bertha and Mimi said together in a voice dorkier than Family Matters' Steve Urkell's: "'Cause we're nerds!"
    "Indeed," Patty replied, mimicking Mimi's earlier response. Her roommates didn't hear her though, they were too busy snorting.
    Weeks later, she discovered the truth about her roommates: they weren't nerds, but geniuses. Patty had lucked out into getting the two brainiest women on campus as her roommates. She couldn't count on her hands the number of times their intellect saw her through an academic challenge that would have resulted in her having to leave campus. For the truth was, while they were geniuses — she was just a pretender to the throne, one lucky enough to maintain her C-average.
    Then Busty Blossom entered the picture.
    The petite freshman with the big tits instantly took a liking to Patty, adopting her as it were. Patty didn't know why she did this. Sure, Blossom received free labor from her, but so what. If she really cared about servants, she could always make use of the guys surrounding her. They were like trained animals willing to do anything for the treats of her tits.
    Patty knew the rumors about Busty Blossom once being as flat as she was. She didn't really believe them though. How could she, viewing on a daily basis the massive mounds on Busty Blossom's chest? However, if the rumors were true — and they could be — then maybe that was the reason she kept her around.
    Patty reminded Busty Blossom where she came from. Sure, it sounded like a lot of pop-psychology-mumbo-jumbo. Hell, it probably was a lot of pop-psychology-mumbo-jumbo. It was enough of a reason for Patty, though. What resident of Nerd Hall wouldn't want to be friends with the popular Busty Blossom?
    Answer: Her best friends, Bertha and Mimi, that's who.
    When she called them together and told them she was moving in with Busty Blossom, they laughed at her. That wasn't quite the reaction Patty expected.
    Patty thought her friends would be angry with her. She thought they might even be a little disappointed with her. After all, she was the one breaking up the Three Musketeers. She was the one leaving her best friends — the two people whom through their incredible intellects made it possible for her even to be on campus. She was the one doing all this and more. And she was doing it for the most shallow of reasons: She, Patricia Harding, wanted big tits.
    Well, shallow or not, Patty didn't feel her friends had the right to laugh at her.
    "What's so fucking funny?" she snarled.
    "You," a blunt Bertha said, continuing to laugh.
    "Breast creams be bogus," Mimi said with a smile. "They like, scientifically suck, you know?"
    Oh, so that's why they were laughing at her: they didn't believe Busty Blossom could give her big tits. Patty thought about that. It did sound somewhat ridiculous. However, after she explained it to them, she was sure they'd understand.
    "This is the real deal," she began. "It isn't one of those fake breast creams you see advertised in tabloids and infomercials. It's Busty Blossom's very own secret formula, guys. It's guaranteed to work."
    Bertha's and Mimi's response to Patty's explanation was to laugh even harder than they did before.
    "But guys, I got proof," Patty said, trying to yell over their laughter. "You hear me, I got proof."
    Sure you do," Bertha said.
    "Bring it then, why don't you?" added Mimi.
    Then like a magician doing a card trick, Patty revealed two pictures of Busty Blossom. One, before the secret formula, the other, after.
    "Let me see those," Bertha said, grabbing the pics in her large hands. After a moment of looking at them, she announced: "They're fakes. They have to be. Right, Mimi?"
    Mimi, the resident expert of photography, took the pictures from Bertha. She examined them with an almost clinical awareness. She rubbed her fingers on the pictures, sniffed them, and then excused herself to her makeshift dark room.
    Bertha and Patty just stared at the closed door. The room was soundproof, so they couldn't hear what Mimi was doing. They knew she was taking her time, though. Mimi always took her time. It was her way. She took thoroughness to the point of ridiculousness.
    Bertha was ready to barge in on Mimi — patience was never one of her strong points — when the tiny girl exited the dark room. She handed Bertha the pics, which were now slightly wet. She watched the giantess look them over. Mimi loved drama. Feeling she reached the height of anticipation, she suddenly announced: "They're real deal like Holyfield, B."
    "No way," Bertha said. She was staring at the "after" picture.
    "Yes, way," Mimi said, still having trouble believing the pictures, even after all the computer analysis and forensic-like tests she performed.
    Bertha still had doubts. She started to question Mimi, who cut her off. "Accept it, Bertha. The pictures are real."
    From anyone else that wouldn't be enough. However, this wasn't anyone else, it was Mimi. Bertha knew her roommate's reputation and skills were beyond reproach. If she said the pictures were real, they were real.
    "Okay, the pictures are real," Bertha said. "We now know this Blossom chick grew big breasts. So what? There's nothing in these photos showing she grew those breasts via a secret formula. I mean, Patty, how do you know she just didn't have a late growth spurt or something?"
    "Well, I don't know," Patty said simply.
    "And yet, you're going to change your life — just leave me and Bertha — on her say-so," Mimi said.
    "I can't help it, Mimi," Patty said and sighed. "I believe her."
    "And you want big titties that much, Patty?"
    "Yes, Mimi, I do. I mean I know its shallow. Believe me, I do. And as a woman, it's not doing anything for my pride and self-esteem. But I want bigger tits, I really do. And if Blossom can give them to me — which I believe she can — well, then I'm going for it. I have to."
    "Patty, come on."
    "No, Bertha, you come on."
    "What's that supposed to mean?"
    Patty started to answer, then stopped. "It doesn't matter, Bertha, okay? I've made my decision."
    "Naah, Patty, speak your mind. What were you going to say? Mimi and I would really like to hear it."
    "It don't matter, okay. Just drop it."
    "No, Patty, say what you gotta say."
    "Yeah, Patty, just bring it," Mimi added, referencing another wrestler in the WWF.
    "Well, I think..." Patty began cautiously. She didn't want to upset Bertha and risk getting her head pulled off. "I think your attitude is a little hypocritical, Bertha."
    "You do, eh?" Bertha said through gritted teeth. "Go on."
    "Well, we all want..." Patty said and then trailed off.
    "Yes?"
    "No. Bertha, forget it."
    "I can't forget it, Patty. Us, hypocrites, are like that you know."
    "Sorry..."
    "Don't be," Bertha said coldly. "Now, you were about to tell us what we all wanted. How about starting there, Miss Harding."
    Patty took a deep breath. Bertha wasn't going to like this. "Okay, I'll tell you what I want, it's..."
    "What I really, really want. I wanna, I wanna, I wanna, I wanna, I wanna really really really wanna zigazig ah," Mimi sang, instantly receiving the disapproval of both Bertha and Patty. Being her best friends, they accepted, without complaints, Mimi's wrestling and other pop references. But when she went "Spice Girls" on them...well that's where they drew the line. Mimi knew better.
    "Are you done spicing up your life, Mimi?" Patty asked.
    "Yes," replied an embarrassed Mimi.
    "Good. Now as I was saying, before Mimi Spice took the stage: what I want is the same thing you two want."
    "And that would be?" Bertha asked.
    "Tits."
    "Yeah, right," Bertha and Mimi said together, looking at Patty in disbelief.
    "You guys want them as much as I do."
    "No, we don't." Patty listened to her friends deny wanting big tits up one side and down the other. It was pitiful. Whom did they think they were fooling?
    "I'm out of here," Patty said in frustration.
    "Why?" Bertha asked.
    "You two are in denial, and it's not healthy."
    "I'm not in denial, Patty," Mimi said. "Are you in denial, Bertha?"
    "No, Mimi, I'm definitely not in denial."
    "Oh, so Bertha, you like being big everywhere but your chest," Patty said fearlessly. She knew her words were hurtful. She knew they might prompt Bertha to kill her. Nevertheless, she had to say them. It was truth time. Time for her friends to wake up and smell reality.
    "Watch it, girl."
    "No, Bertha, you watch it! I've seen you and I know how you act. Seeing some girl built like Mimi with way bigger tits than you...it drives you crazy."
    "Okay, Patty, you've made your point."
    "No, Bertha, I'm just getting started. I mean I haven't brought up Mimi stuffing her bras just to have an A-cup."
    "Well, implants ain't in my budget, yet," Mimi replied, trying to joke her way out of the situation. It was obvious that her heart wasn't in it.
    "Look, I don't want to hurt you two," Patty said, seeing and hearing the hurt she caused her friends. She had made her point and then some.
    "Well, for someone not wanting to, you sure are doing a damn good job," Mimi said. She was completely serious.
    "Sorry, Mimi," Patty said. "I just wanted to prove you two want bigger tits just as much as I do."
    "Okay, so what if we do?" Bertha said.
    "Well, I've found a way of getting them."
    "By being some big-breasted bitch's slave."
    "Bertha, I prefer big-breasted bitch's assistant," Patty said with a slight smile, hoping things were lightening up between her and her roommates. "But, yeah, that's my way".
    "And after you get them? What do you plan on doing then?" Bertha asked.
    "The usual stuff," Patty began. "You know, have them measured for new bras, parade them around in skimpy outfits, have them jug-fucked by some handsome football-throwing jock. You know, the usual stuff."
    "Oh, and just forget about Mimi and me. You know, the people who helped you pass all of your classes."
    "I'd remember you guys at some point," Patty said. "I'd just forget about you two for the first couple of months."
    "Bitch," Mimi said in response.
    "I'm kidding, Mimi. I wouldn't — make that couldn't — hold out on you two. Once I learn the secret formula, you know, I'll share it."
    "Really, Patty," Mimi said, excitement rising in her voice. "Well, then, sorry for calling you a bitch. Okay?"
    "No problem, Mimi," Patty said, giving a sly wink to Bertha. "After you and Bertha serve me awhile, to pay for your secret formula, of course, I'm sure you'll be calling me worse things than 'bitch'."
    Mimi looked at Bertha, expecting to see fury on the black girl's face. Instead, she saw Bertha trying to choke back a laugh.
    It was a good memory, Patty thought, but that was then and this was now. Standing outside Bertha's and Mimi's front door, she thought about the day she shared her plan with her roommates.
    Patty's plan was simple. Serve Busty Blossom, learn secret formula, and then share formula with best friends. That was her plan, and it wasn't working. All because Busty Blossom gave her away to Titty.
    That one, small, simple act made without any thought on the part of Busty Blossom ruined Patty and her friends. It ruined them, because it bought Titty into their lives. And that bitch was never going to tell them the secret formula.
    Patty knew this in her heart and soul now. Before, it was always something of a stray thought floating inside her head. A thought she chose to ignore. Now it was real — a fact of life — and Patty didn't know how to tell Bertha and Mimi. So, she just stood outside their door, waiting.
    "Are you ever going to knock on the friggin' door?" she heard a voice ask.
    "No," was Patty's response.
    Suddenly, the door opened and Patty saw Bertha's towering form looking down at her.
    "Get your ass in here," Bertha said with a smile.
    Patty entered the dorm room as if she was walking the last mile of death row. Her leaden steps scraped across the tile floor of the room until she sat next to Mimi on the couch.
    "So, like, what's wrong with you?" Mimi asked.
    "It's not going to happen."
    "What's not going to happen?" Bertha asked taking a seat in a chair adjacent to the couch.
    "Us, growing tits. It's not going to happen. I can't get the Formula from Titty."
    "Well, Patty, you knew it was going to take some time. We all did," Bertha said. "We just need to be more patient, I guess."
    "It's never going to happen, Bertha. I know that now. All this time...I've just been lying to myself and you guys. Titty's never giving up the Formula."
    Saying that, Patty started crying.
    Bertha, moved by Patty's tears, got up from her chair and went to embrace her friend and ex-roommate. A thought mirrored by Mimi who, with Bertha, formed a group hug.
    "There, there, Patty, we'll think of something," Bertha said, gently patting her on the head.
    Eventually, Patty stopped crying. The support of Bertha and Mimi did wonders for her. She was past the point of tears, which was a good thing. However, she was now entering the populace of profanity, which wasn't a good thing.
    The populace of profanity — You know that mental byway where the only acceptable language is language you wouldn't say in front of your mom unless there was a gun stuck to your head. Even then, there would be a lot of hesitation on your part.
    Well, there was no hesitation on Patty's part. She entered the populace of profanity just by saying: "That fucking bitch! Where does that cunt get off treating me like that? Why I ought to go back to the dorm and fuck her shit up. You know, kick that bitch's ass!"
    An embarrassed Bertha and Mimi could only look at each other in shock. They couldn't believe the shi — uh, garbage coming out of their friends mouth. They wanted to support Patty, but this was too much. It was like being stuck in an Andrew Dice Clay, Sam Kinnison, Def Comedy Jam hell. Their ears — their oh, so sensitive ears — were being bombarded by a nonstop barrage of profanity shouted at the loudest volume possible. When would the madness stop?
    Bertha decided now would be a good time. She couldn't take any more.
    "Patty," she said.
    "Yes, Bertha."
    "Don't take this the wrong way, okay?"
    "Uh, okay."
    "Shut the fuck up!"
    Patty heard the words and was about to take offense. Then she saw the look on both her friends' faces and realized she had gone too far.
    "Whew," Mimi said, massaging her right ear. "I'm thinking it'll be Disney for the rest of the year. I don't think my poor ears can take any more R-rated, NC-17 content."
    "You can say that again," Bertha said in agreement. She was rubbing her ears, too.
    "I'm thinking it'll be Disney for the rest of the..."
    "Mimi, please," Bertha interrupted, stopping her friend from repeating herself.
    Mimi was about to apologize, but Patty beat her to it. "Uh, sorry, guys. I guess I got a little upset."
    "A little," Bertha and Mimi said together, laughing. "Jinx."
    Patty looked at her friends laughing and couldn't help but join in. It felt good to laugh again, she thought, realizing how little she'd been doing under Titty's reign.
    "Sorry guys," she repeated.
    "Now tell us what's been going on with you and Mistress Titty," Bertha said.
    "Sans profanity," Mimi added.
    Patty began her tale with her friends and ex-roommates hanging on her every word. In no time, she was telling them about Jack's recent visit to Titty. This really perked Bertha and Mimi up. Patty knew that earlier in her narrative, she didn't have their total attention. Well, with one description of Jack and his massive flesh-rod, she not only had their attention but also commanded it.
    Bertha and Mimi absorbed the details of Jack's and Titty's sexual exploits as if it was a recap of a missed episode of their favorite soap. They were all ears. Hell, they were all tongues, Patty thought, watching the two salivate like Pavlov's dogs.
    Then Patty got to Titty's mistreatment of her. Instantly, Bertha's and Mimi's attitudes changed.
    "Why, that bitch," Bertha said.
    "That fucking bitch," Mimi added.
    Patty could only sit back and listen as her two best friends used every word of profanity they knew. It turned out to be a lot of sitting, since their vocabularies were so extensive...and educational. The two were saying words and phrases that Patty had never heard before. She made mental notes to herself, and vowed to use some of these discoveries in the not-too-distant future.
    Finally, Bertha's and Mimi's vocabulary of profanity ran out. They were just about to start their rant all over again, when Patty cut them off by saying: "So, would I be right in saying that we all hate Titty."
    "Hell, yeah," Bertha replied.
    "Fuck, yeah," Mimi seconded.
    "Well, okay, we hate her," Patty said. "But that's not enough. I want some revenge. Some payback."
    "I feel you, girl!" Mimi said, with a snap of her finger, causing Bertha to look at her as if she was crazy. "But what you got in mind."
    "I got a plan," Patty said, calling her friends into a secretive huddle, although they were the only three in the room. "Listen."

Later, by foot, three trench-coated figures made their way to Titty's castle. One giant size, one average, the third petite. They were trying to be sneaky, but to anyone interested, they stuck out big time. Fortunately, no one was interested.
    "Why are we sneaking to my room?" Patty asked.
    "Covert ops," Bertha said in a whisper. "And don't talk so loud."
    "But why should going to my room be a covert operation? I live there, Bertha."
    "You used to live there, but then you crossed the line," Mimi said in a serious whisper. "I'm sure the word's out on you, Patty. You're a dead woman walking now."
    "Uh, look, Mimi," Patty began in her normal tone of voice. "Titty's a little upset, but I'm pretty sure she hasn't put a mob-hit out on me."
    "The guys that Tony and his boys wipe out on the Sopranos never think there's a contract on them, either. But when they don't make it to the season's finale, well...you know what's up," Mimi said, no longer whispering.
    "Uh..." Patty began, then stopped. She didn't know how to refute Mimi's Sopranos knowledge.
    "Will you two big mouths be quiet," Bertha said. "I think I hear her coming."
    The three scampered to their pre-determined hiding place just as Titty exited her dorm building, singing. It was House Call Day. Most of the time, Titty's suitors — fuck buddies — came to her place, but once a week, she actually strode out amongst the commoners and visited them in their rooms. It was her way of giving back: A personal visit from Mistress Titty.
    Because she was the one to schedule these visits, Patty knew Titty's routine better than anyone, including Titty. This was one of the few times Patty's mistress ever left her dorm room. And since Patty's plan depended on Titty not being there, she knew the time to act was now.
    Patty's plan was simple: break into the fridge and steal the secret formula. It was a plan she'd thought about many times before, but never acted on. Well, she was acting on it now. Unfortunately for her, Bertha and Mimi wanted in on the action.
    Patty told them it wasn't necessary. She also told them that as Titty's roommate it was probably a lot easier and logical for her to just go home, pick the locks on the fridge, and nab the Formula. Bertha and Mimi still wanted in. "All for one and one for all," they said, stating that if they were going to benefit from the Formula, they sure as hell were going to steal it as well. Patty couldn't think of anything that would persuade her friends not to come along. With a sigh, she accepted their assistance, feeling all the while that her life was rapidly turning into an episode of the now-cancelled TV show, The Lone Gunmen.
    Patty, Bryer and Frohike — uh, make that Bertha and Mimi — saw Titty leave. They counted 1,000 Mississippis. Why, Patty wanted to know. But this was Bertha's and Mimi's mission now, she realized, she was just along for the ride.
    They dispatched Mimi, being the smallest of the three, to do some recon. She came back with dismal news: someone saw her. However, being the genius she is, she thought quickly on her feet and said she was a student visiting a friend.
    "But you are a student visiting a friend," Patty said.
    "Then you think my story was believable, really believable?" a worried Mimi asked.
    Patty was going to ignore Mimi's question. She and Bertha had to be kidding. Their little "mission" was becoming too stupid for words. Then she saw the looks on their faces and realized they weren't kidding her at all. They were being completely serious.
    Bertha wore a look of panic as if someone seeing Mimi was reason enough to scrap the mission and go home. Mimi looked scared enough to wet herself. What happened to my friends, Patty wondered.
    She wanted to see the return of the familiar joking geniuses she'd come to know and love. She needed to see them: The real Bertha and Mimi, not their scared-to-death counterparts.
    Patty started with Mimi. She reassured her that her story was believable...really believable.
    "Then you think the mission should continue?" Bertha asked.
    "Yes," Patty said, putting a lot of emphasis in that one word. She wanted Bertha to believe. She wanted Bertha to know, beyond any doubt, that the mission must continue.
    Patty succeeded. Bertha was ready to continue the mission...cautiously. She warned Patty and Mimi by saying: "Watch your backs. Anyone captured will be disavowed by the other two."
    That sounded like something out of Mission Impossible, Patty thought. When did going into a dorm room — your own dorm room — become an impossible mission? "And how come you can't think about Mission Impossible without that damn song — the original, not that Limp Bizkit crap — getting into your head," she mumbled under her breath.
    "You say something, P?" Mimi asked her.
    "No, just trying not to be captured," Patty replied sarcastically.
    "That would be wise," Bertha said, missing the sarcasm completely.
    The three walked to the dorm in a collective bunch. They bumped into each other one moment and tripped over each other the next. It made for a most entertaining and visible spectacle, one that went completely unobserved by Bertha and Mimi. If the two allowed themselves to think about how many people witnessed their secret mission, they probably would've died on the spot. Fortunately, for them, being tenants of Nerd Hall, most people who saw them just as quickly forgot them. Patty could care less. At this point, she didn't care who saw her or not. She just didn't give a fuck. All she wanted was to get the Formula and jet.
    The three of them approached Patty's building and stumbled into the entrance. Of course, this caused everyone in the lobby to stare at them. "Hi, Patty," the on-duty RA said, upon seeing one of her residence.
    "Hi, Judy," Patty answered in response, which didn't go over too well with Bertha and Mimi.
    "I see Titty's on the prowl tonight," Judy said with a laugh.
    "Yep," Patty said, trying hard to end this conversation. She felt Bertha tugging on her arm, pulling her towards the stairs and she saw Mimi staring at her with a hard, intense look. Subtlety wasn't her friends' strong point. Patty got the hints. She was ready to end the conversation with Judy, but the RA beat her to it.
    "I'll talk to you later, Patty," Judy said, turning her attention to something else. She was in the process of quickly forgetting all about Patty. The girl was nice and all, but everyone in the building knew she was only living there because she was Titty's slave.
    The RA did not have to forget Bertha and Mimi. They were never in her brain long enough to remember. She took one look at them, concluded they were not tenants of her building, and, thus, pegged them as nerds from Nerd Hall. Who cared about them?
    Bertha didn't know the opinion of the RA. She wouldn't believe it if she did. She just knew that everyone was looking at her, Mimi, and Patty. "We should abort the mission," she said, as the three approached Patty's dorm room.
    "Like hell," Patty replied. "We're here now. Let's just do what we came to do."
    Bertha and Mimi thought about what Patty said. They weighed the pros and cons of the mission. They calculated the odds, weighing this and weighing that. Patty saw and heard this impromptu war session and yawned. They're your best friends, Patty, she reminded herself. You got to stick with them through thick and thin, smart and stupid.
Remember...they are your best friends.
    Patty listened as her friends continued to debate the merits and detriments of continuing the mission. The more she listened, the more she started wondering how difficult was it really to get new best friends. Answer: not difficult at all. She'd found Bertha and Mimi pretty easily...odds were she could find their replacements just as easy. Yep, time to get some new friends.
    Patty was about to announce her decision to get new friends when a voice in her head stopped her. It was a nagging, whiny voice. The same voice Patty heard whenever her collegiate grade reports arrived. It was saying in a panic-stricken voice: "What about your GPA? What about flunking out? You need Bertha and Mimi, Patty, you really do. Without them, what are you going to do?"
    Ordinarily, at this point, the voice and its rhetoric of panic would have Patty against the ropes. Not this time. Patty wasn't falling for it. Sure, it was great having two geniuses around to help you with your homework and various class projects. However, upon reflection, Patty concluded that it wasn't necessary having two geniuses around to help you with your homework and class projects. Other students, lacking geniuses as best friends, successfully graduated college all the time. Thus, Patty concluded that she didn't need Bertha and Mimi — she just needed some new best friends smarter than herself. Based on that criterion, new best friends would be rather easy to find.
    The nagging, whiny voice heard Patty's mental argument. Damn, it was a good one. The voice couldn't come up with any real reasons why Patty should continue being best friends with Bertha and Mimi. Sure, there was the time Patty invested in the relationship and the resulting good memories. That stuff was nice and all. But, so what? The voice needed something better. The best it could come up with is for Patty not to be hasty. Like any life-changing decision, she should probably sleep on it — give it 24 hours, at least.
    Sleep on it? Patty thought. Well, she was outside her home. A good night's sleep would do her well. Especially, since Bertha and Mimi were draining her by the minute.
    Patty was just about to send Bertha and Mimi back to Nerd Hall, when Bertha announced — finally — the results of their war session. "We've decided to continue," she said.
    "Okay," Patty said, gritting her teeth. She really was looking forward to sending them home and going to sleep, but Bertha with her announcement just ruined it. Come on 24 hours, she thought, futurizing about the moment she booted her current best friends. Come on 24 hours.
    "Mimi, pick the lock," Bertha suddenly ordered.
    "Uh, look, that's not necessary," Patty said, watching Mimi pull a set of lockpicking tools from her purse. "I live here, remember? I got a key."
    Mimi, stepping to the doorknob, either didn't hear Patty or chose to ignore her. With lockpicks in hand, she was ready and willing to crack the lock on Patty's front door.
    Patty wasn't going to let that happen. Enough was enough. She shoved the smaller Mimi aside and opened the door with her key.
    "Excuse you," Mimi said angrily.
    Patty ignored her soon to be ex-best friend — come on 24 hours — and turned on the light of the room.
    "Not a bad place," Bertha said, surveying the room. "It has a lot more room than our place.
    Who is she, Martha Stewart? Patty thought, thinking the Bertha she knew — the old one, not this new one — could give a fuck about how a room looks. Was this new one planning to redecorate it or something? Best nip that in the bud. "The fridge is over there," she said, directing Bertha's and Mimi's attention to what was important: the fridge and the Formula inside it.
    "Do you have a key to it, too," a frowning Mimi asked Patty. She wasn't ready to let her non-picking of the front door go just yet.
    ""No, Mimi, I don't. Titty doesn't trust me that much."
    "Good," Mimi said brightening, withdrawing her lockpicking tools again. "I can pick the mother then."
    Well, it's not that strong a lock. We got a hammer that could probably..." Patty started to say, then stopped when she saw the cold, hard look on Mimi's face. "Or you can just pick it, Mimi."
    Mimi nodded her head and went to work. Bertha, meanwhile, kept examining Patty's living quarters.
    "You know, you could put two of our rooms in this place," she said.
    "Uh, yeah," was Patty's noncommittal response. Where was Bertha going with this?
    "A room this size really needs more color."
    "You don't say, Bertha."
    "I have some color ideas, Patty, that will just do wonders for this place."
    "Well, I'm sure your ideas are awesome, B, but that's really Titty's area, not mine."
    "Well, you can be the middle-man, uh, middle-person..."
    "What?"
    "Just tell her my ideas."
    "But..."
    It was no use. The black Martha Stewart now held Patty captive. There was nothing left to do but listen to Bertha and hope Titty liked at least one of her ideas.
    Time passed slowly in Titty's castle. Bertha continued talking and Mimi continued lockpicking. Patty, when she was able to ignore the decorating amazon, worried Titty might come back before they accomplished their mission. Of course, the odds of that happening were infinitesimal. Titty never left one of her suitors — uh, fuck buddies — before she was royally, uh, fucked. By Patty's estimate, that had her coming home in about 20 hours.
    "A-ha," Mimi suddenly said.
    "You got it open?" Bertha asked.
    "No, but I'm almost there."
    "We can still use the hammer, you know," Patty said, receiving a killing look from Mimi in response. "Okay, it was just a suggestion."
    Click.
    Mimi opened the lock. "I told you I didn't need no stinkin' hammer," she said.
    Quickly, Bertha and Patty joined her in removing the chain wrapped around the fridge.
    "I hope there's some Formula in here," Patty said.
    "What do you mean, 'I hope there's some Formula in here'?" Bertha asked her.
    "Well, Titty sometimes runs out."
    "And you just thought to bring that to our attention now."
    "Well, Bertha, you see..."
    But before Patty could finish her thought, they heard someone at the front door.
    "The bitch is back," Mimi squeaked. "Hide."
    Mimi and Patty — although she lived there — scurried around the room, looking for places to hide. Bertha, however, took a more direct and aggressive approach. She went to the door, preparing to confront whoever entered.
    Mimi and Patty saw what she planned on doing. Was she crazy? They wanted to tell Bertha to just hide like they were doing, but they knew that wasn't Bertha's nature. As big as she was, Bertha never backed down from anything or anyone. And after giving it some thought, the idea of Titty beating up Bertha was too laughable for words. Talk about your mismatches. Titty wouldn't stand a chance.
    In that light, Mimi's and Patty's fear vanished. Emerging from their hiding places, they realized they wanted this to happen. They wanted Bertha to take care of Titty by beating the bitch's ass.
    Mimi and Patty looked at each other, excitement showing on their faces. This was going to be great. Fuck pay-per-view...this was the real main event. They heard the key sliding out of the lock, saw the turning of the doorknob, and watched the door open. Five, four, three, two, and...
    Bertha grabbed Titty. Only it wasn't Titty. This person was both bigger and stronger than Titty. This person was a man, and he was putting up one hell of a fight.
    Bertha was no pushover, though. Thanks to some self-defense classes and wrestling pointers from her brother, she knew effectively how to use her size and strength. She was positioning the unknown combatant in a submission hold, when she heard Patty suddenly shout.
    "Jack," she yelled, recognizing Titty's fuck buddy, "What are you doing here?"
    Bertha, releasing Jack, took her first real look at the man. "Is he the Jack that, you know, with Titty?" she asked Patty.
    "The one and the same."
    Mimi, staring at Jack's crotch and liking what she saw, said: "I see you weren't exaggerating. This boy be packing some serious man meat."
    Jack, hearing Mimi's comment and seeing how she was staring at him, started blushing.
    "What you doing here, Jack?" Patty asked him again.
    "Well, uh, is it all right if I sit down?"
    "Sure, make yourself at home."
    Jack found a seat, doing his best to hide the sizable bulge in his pants from Mimi's prying eyes. Succeeding somewhat in his attempt, Jack noticed how his actions earned him a serious frown from Mimi.
    "Well, I wanted to get some payback on Titty," he said, keeping a careful watch on Bertha. She was stronger than guys on his football team.
    "Hmm," Bertha said, sounding like her old self. "It seems that Titty is pissing off a lot of people, Patty."
    "We wanted some payback, too, Jack," Patty said, in case Bertha's comment was too cryptic for Jack. He did have his moments of denseness.
    "Well, what were you guys going to do?" Jack asked. "I was going to jack off all over her bed, so she would get cum in her hair."
    Patty and company just stared at Jack. The football player presented his revenge scenario like it was a classic military strategy worthy of West Point study. He was incredibly proud of himself and it showed all over his face. Too bad, Patty had to burst his bubble.
    "Oh, Jack, do you think Titty would really be all that upset that you jacked off in her bed."
    "Uh, whatta you mean?"
    "Well, she's a slut, Jack. She lives for cum. In her, on her, it really doesn't make a difference. Finding out you jacked off in her bed and left would be like room service to Titty."
    "It would?"
    "Yeah, it would," Patty said. "In fact, she might like it so much that she starts having you jack off in her bed all the time she's not around."
    "She wouldn't."
    "Yeah, she would."
    "Well, I won't do it," Jack said, sounding like a stubborn four-year old refusing to pick up his toys.
    "Good for you, Jack," Patty said. "I wouldn't do it either."
    Jack thought for a moment, which really wasn't his strong suit. He looked at the three friends. Since they weren't big-titted, which was a shame, especially for the big, black one; Jack didn't really give them too much thought initially. But whatever thought he gave them was apparently enough, because Jack made a mental connection.
    Although a minor mental connection by most people's standards, it was a big one for Jack. Here was Patty, Titty's roommate, and she had no tits. Here were Patty's friends, in Titty's house, and they didn't have any tits either. Hmm, he thought, wasn't there someone else who used to live here who didn't have tits?
    "Are you all right, Jack?" Patty asked, seeing the glazed look on his face.
    "Give me a moment, I'm thinking."
    Oh, so that was his thinking look. Well, it wasn't very attractive, but it did have a sort of "watching animals in the wild" sort of fascination. Patty started to suggest to Bertha and Mimi they continue with their mission, but Jack's thinking had the girls totally entranced. Well, let's see where this goes, Patty thought, feeling a lot more patient after his arrival than she did before it. We still have time.
    Blossom, Jack thought. She used to live here. And, before she became Busty Blossom, she was flatter than these chicks. How did that happen?
    Then Jack thought about the secret formula. How he showed it to Blossom. How he introduced her to the wrestling concept of making weight.
    "Cum!" Jack suddenly blurted out.
    "Begging your pardon," Patty said.
    "Cum," Jack repeated, as if that one word explained everything. "Cum."
    "What's he talking about?" Bertha asked.
    "Yeah, homeboy seems to be losing it or something," Mimi added.
    "Jack what's wrong?" a worried Patty asked.
    "Cum," Jack replied rising from his seat. His eyes scanned the room and locked in on his target: Titty's fridge.
    "Jack, are you all right?" Patty asked, being brushed aside as he walked Frankenstein-like towards the fridge.
    "He's heading towards the fridge," Bertha said, stating the obvious.
    "Why?" Mimi asked, "Does he want big tits, too?"
    Bertha and Patty stared disbelieving at Mimi. For a genius, they thought, she sure could sound stupid. A thought, they were about to verbalize when they heard a tray of ice cubes hit the floor.
    "Cum," Jack grunted, rambling through the fridge, every now and then, discarding a refrigerated item on the floor. "Cum, where's the cum?"
    Patty looked at Jack horrified. He was messing up the nice clean floor. Didn't he know she had to clean up any mess around here. "Jack, stop," she screamed. "Bertha, could you stop him, please."
    Bertha didn't know what was going on, but to her Jack's behavior wasn't healthy. She charged the college athlete, wrestling his arms behind his back. Boy, is he strong, she thought, attempting to drag him back to his chair.
    Patty, out of a habit she didn't even know she possessed, dived on the floor in front of the fridge. An act resembling a soldier falling on a grenade in hopes of saving his troop. Once she hit the floor, Patty immediately started picking up all the items Jack had removed from the fridge.
    Mimi, watching the actions of her former roommate, could only conclude that Titty had trained her well. Thinking about her own place — her and Bertha hadn't cleaned it in awhile — Mimi could only ponder one thing: Did Patty do windows?
    Moments later, things were a lot calmer. Jack was sitting down and seemed to be his old self again. Patty was through cleaning up the mess in front of the fridge and seemed genuinely happy with the results. Bertha was a little sore from wrestling Jack, but she'd live. And Mimi — taking note of Patty's cleaning skills — figured she and Bertha could live with dirty windows (that's if Patty didn't do them, of course) if the rest of their house was as spotless as Patty's and Titty's place.
    "It's not there," Jack said, finally saying something beside the word, "Cum".
    "What's not there?" Bertha asked him.
    "Oh no, not that cum stuff again," Mimi said, seeing Jack's mouth form the K-sound.
    "Cum? Jack, what are you talking about?" Patty asked, not being as quick to dismiss this "cum stuff" as Mimi seemed to be.
    "In the Tupperware container," he said. "The cum, it's not there."
    "Tupperware container?" a surprised Patty said. "There wasn't any cum in the Tupperware. The Tupperware is where Titty kept her secret..."
    Patty trailed off, thinking. It couldn't be that, could it? Surely, that wasn't Titty's secret formula. She replayed the all-too-few times Titty had rubbed the secret formula on her chest. She re-experienced the stickiness on her skin. Why didn't she see it before? It made perfect sense, especially when you considered the company of Titty's male suitors — uh, fuck buddies — coming in and out of the house. Who would have a bigger supply of the secret formula than Titty?
    "Titty's secret formula is cum!" Patty yelled out in classic Eureka fashion.
    "What?" Bertha and Mimi said simultaneously, without yelling "jinx" afterwards.
    Patty wasn't listening to them, though. She had her eyes on Jack, who was nodding his head in affirmation of Patty's pronouncement.
    "Yep, cum grows tits," Jack said in a sad voice. "But there isn't any in the fridge. Titty must have taken the container with her."
    "Oh, fuck Titty and her old Tupperware container," Patty said. "Now that we know her secret formula, who needs the bitch?"
    "But where you going to get some cum?" Jack asked.
    "From you," Patty said, walking toward him, using the sexiest walk in her repertoire.
    "Oh," Jack said.
    He usually didn't get it on with flat-chested chicks, but, to be honest, he hadn't been getting it on lately at all. He blamed Titty and Busty Blossom. Their majestic mounds spoiled him. After fucking those two (or is that four?), your average woman could no longer compete. Average, in this case, being strippers with super-sized string implants, the virginal hypertrophy victims of VAST, and adult entertainers of the female variety appearing in Also on Video. In other words, Jack couldn't do it with any woman wearing less than a Z-cup bra.
    However, man made exceptions, Jack thought. Wasn't it he making an exception that transformed flat-chested Blossom into Busty Blossom in the first place? You, damn right, it was. So, since he turned one flat-chested chick into a titty goddess, why couldn't he do it again?
    Before Jack could form an answer to his mental question, he noticed a hand on his belt buckle. The hand belonged to Patty, and Jack watched as she expertly unfastened it with a deft flick of two fingers.
    "I hope you have a lot of cum for me, Jack," Patty said, removing the belt from Jack's pants.
    "I — I'm bursting with cum."
    "Good," Patty said, dropping the belt on the floor, her hands making their way towards the top of Jack's jeans, "I need all the secret formula I can get."
    Bertha and Mimi watched Patty and Jack with a mixture of awe and respect. When did Patty get so sexy? When did she get so confident? This was a side of their ex-roommate that they didn't even know she had. They couldn't take their eyes off her...and Jack, of course.
    Ordinarily, Patty had a reserved attitude when it came to sex. She was prudish, afraid to make the first move of any kind. She imagined a Prince Charming coming along, sweeping her off her feet, and taking her in his bed. Well, that never happened. Patty knew it wasn't going to happen...ever. The best she could do was start taking action right now, beginning with Jack and his 12-plus inch dick.
    Today is the first day of the rest of my life, she thought. The start of something big — like my future tits.
    Patty stripped Jack down to his underwear. He was wearing boxers, the baggiest size imaginable, which tried hard to hide Jack's manhood, but couldn't. Jack's dick was that big...and long.
    Patty saw the head of Jack's dick on his right thigh. It rose from the bottom of the boxers like a groundhog looking for its shadow. Patty, apparently, wasn't the only one who saw the head of Jack's dick.
    "Bertha, do you see what I'm seeing?" Mimi asked.
    "I'm seeing it, girlfriend, but I'm sure not believing it."
    "That can't be real."
    "I think it is, Mimi. I've never seen a dildo of any size move like that."
    Jack heard Bertha's and Mimi's conversation. It was easy to do. Neither one attempted to talk in a whisper. However, even hearing the conversation, it took Jack a moment to realize exactly what they were talking about... He did have his moments of denseness. When he realized they were talking about him — or rather talking about his dick — he looked down at his right thigh. Sure enough, his dick was sticking out.
    "My dick's too big," he said apologetically to Patty, easing his manhood back into his boxers. "I've been looking, but I still haven't found any underwear big enough."
    Patty couldn't believe her ears. Did she just hear what she thought she heard? Was Jack apologizing for having a dick too big for his britches? She replayed Jack's words in her head. Yep, he said what she heard. "I've been looking, but I still haven't found any underwear big enough." Patty answered Jack, saying the first thing that came to her mind: "Don't wear underwear then."
    "Don't wear underwear?" It was obvious that the idea never occurred to Jack. His parents raised him to wear underwear, so he always wore them. Now Patty bought up the concept of an underwear-free life. It was somewhat appealing. It sure would save on his clothing bill if he stopped wearing underwear. In that moment, Jack converted successfully to Non-Underwearism.
    Hearing this, Patty said "Good, let's start now," and ripped off Jack's boxers.
    Instantly, ooohs and ahs filled the room. Patty, Bertha, and Mimi liked what they saw. Jack's dick — so long, so thick, so hard — was jutting out prominently at an almost 90-degree angle. Pointing right at Patty, it held the former resident of Nerd Hall captive. She was torn. On one hand, she wanted to touch Jack's dick, feeling its hardness in the softness of her touch. On the other hand, the thing scared her to death. It was just so big.
    Patty's body acted out these thoughts. Her right hand moved towards Jack's dick, only to back away a moment later. This happened several times before Bertha and Mimi noticed Patty's hand. Once, they noticed the hand, they realized the problem. The hand needed some moral support. It was on the right path, it just needed that final push.
    "Touch it, Patty," they said in unison. "Touch it."
    Patty's hand heard their cheer. It moved closer to Jack's dick.
    "Touch it, Patty. Touch it."
    Closer.
    "Touch it, Patty. Touch it."
    Even more closer.
    "Touch it, Patty. Touch it."
    Bullseye! Patty successfully made hand-to-dick contact.
    Feeling Jack's dick in her hand gave Patty goosebumps. She couldn't believe it. She, Patricia Harding, not Titty, was actually holding it. It didn't seem real to her. It had to be a dream, she thought, slowly rubbing her fingers up and down its shaft.
    "Well, it sure feels real," she said, giving Jack's dick a good squeeze. Jack's resulting scream convinced her that her "good squeeze" was a little too good.
    "Release it, Patty. Release it," Bertha and Mimi yelled.
    Patty did so.
    She watched Jack protectively scoop up his dick in his massive hands. "There, there, Rod," he said, sounding more like a first-time dad talking to his kid than a collegiate jock talking to his sex organ. "She didn't mean to hurt you."
    "I really didn't," Patty said apologetically.
    "Rod?" a confused Bertha asked. "Who's Rod?"
    "Rod, Bertha," Mimi said. "Like an iron or steel rod. He's talking about his dick."
    "I see," Bertha said, thinking about the dick in question and just how appropriate "Rod" as a name was.
    "Well, I can't," Mimi said annoyed. "When is he going to move his hands?"
    "Mimi," Patty said, realizing you couldn't take that girl anywhere. "Jack's just suffered a painful injury. Are you okay, Jack?"
    "I'm not the one you should be asking."
    "What?"
    "You hurt Rod, Patty, not Jack," Bertha said. "Ask Rod if he's okay."
    "Rod? His dick?"
    "Yep."
    Patty turned towards Bertha. She had to be kidding. Bertha, seeing Patty, merely shrugged as if to say: "Hey, I wasn't the one who squeezed Rod."
    Patty turned back to Jack. This was ridiculous. Whoever heard of apologizing to someone's dick. Then, she thought about the dick in question — its length, width, and hardness. Hell, to get some of that, apologizing was the least she could do.
    She walked towards Jack. With every step she took, she noticed the massive football player shrink away in fear. He can't possibly be afraid of me, Patty thought.
    "Jack, what's wrong?" she asked.
    "You — you hurt Rod," Jack said, sounding like a toddler with an imaginary friend. An imaginary friend with a skinned knee.
    "I know, Jack, and I'm really sorry."
    "Sorry's not enough."
    "What?"
    "You really, really hurt Rod, Patty. Sorry's not enough. You're going to have to do something special."
    "Special, Jack? What can I do special for Rod."
    "Patty, you — you got to kiss Rod where it hurts."
    Hot damn, Patty thought. That's what she wanted to do all along. Of course, she wasn't going to tell Jack that. In his sensitive mood, he might take Rod and run off somewhere.
    "Jack, let me see Rod," she said.
    "Not until you promise," Jack blubbered. "You got to promise not to hurt him again."
    Patty sighed. Between playing slave for Titty and preparing to talk to Jack's dick, she wondered how she had any self-esteem at all. "Pride cometh before the fall," she mumbled to herself.
    "Are you going to promise?" Jack asked her.
    "Yes, Jack, I am," Patty said.
    After a moment, Jack said: "I don't hear the words, Patty."
    Patty mentally counted to ten. If she didn't she would've screamed. Calmer, she said in the sweetest voice she could muster: "I'm sorry, Rod, for hurting you. I promise — I absolutely promise — that I will never, ever, not in a million years, hurt you again."
    Okay, she apologized, where was Rod.
    Jack looked down at his hands. They were doing their best to protect Rod — sheltering him from harmful elements like girls who felt the need to squeeze — by covering him up.
Jack opened his hands slightly and said: "She apologized, Rod."
    Patty just received a preview of her future. Apparently, she wasn't going to be the only one talking to Rod, it seemed like Jack talked to him as well. She wondered if Rod talked back.
    "What do you mean, you don't trust her, Rod," Jack said, confirming the fact that if his dick didn't talk to anyone else, it at least talked to him. "Patty's apology seemed pretty sincere to me."
    Rod continued to express his reservations.
    "Look, Rod, Patty got excited when she squeezed you. She didn't mean to hurt you, she just got caught up in the excitement of seeing you. It wasn't the first time and I'm sure it's not going to be the last time something like that happened. You do have that effect on women, you know."
    Hmm, an appeal to Rod's vanity, Patty thought. She wondered if it would work.
    It did. A smiling Jack looked up from the still covered Rod and announced to Patty: "Rod will see you now."
    Finally, Patty thought, as she started towards Rod. She tried hard to hide her eagerness, but her feet had a mind of their own. They carried Patty towards Rod with Road Runner-like speed. Apparently, she was going to fast for Rod, because when she got within a foot of Jack — roughly Rod's maximum length — the football player held his palm out like a traffic cop and stopped her in her place.
    Jack was saying something about Patty's eagerness, but she didn't hear him. All her attention was on Rod who with a simple removal of one of Jack's massive hands became the room's main attraction. She couldn't see all of Rod — Jack's hand did provide some covering — but what she did see whetted her appetite for more.
    "Do you understand?" Jack asked her.
    Understand what? Since her Rod-fixation took over, Patty hadn't heard a single word Jack said. She wanted to have Jack repeat what he said. That would be the prudent thing to do. However, Patty didn't want to be prudent. That was the old her. The new her wanted to be Rod's bitch. Thus, without hesitation, she said: "I understand."
    "Good. Now without further ado, here's Rod!"

Patty swore she heard a musical fanfare. She couldn't escape the feeling that some back in the day talk show host of some kind was announced the same way Jack just announced Rod. Moreover, why was Jack announcing Rod anyway? She knew about him, it, whatever. In fact, she wanted to know Rod more. Like, for example, in the Biblical sense.
    Jack removed his hands. Again, Patty saw Rod pointing in her direction, jutting out prominently at an almost 90-degree angle. Again, she heard the ooohing and ahing of Bertha and Mimi.
    "Girls, control yourself," Patty said to them.
    "Look who's talking," Bertha said.
    "Yeah, Bertha," Mimi said. "Have you orange juice squeezed any guys dicks lately?"
    "Nope, Mimi, can't say I have."
    "Well, I know I haven't. What about you, Patty?"
    "Mimi, ixnay on the ueezingsqay," Patty said in her best Pig Latin. "Rod's sensitive."
    "You're right," an embarrassed Mimi said. "Sorry about that, I won't mention the ueezingsquay ever again."
    "Uh, girls," Jack said. "Rod is fluent in Pig Latin."
    "He is?" Patty, Bertha, and Mimi all asked at once.
    "Of course, Rod is an international lover of the highest order."
    Patty wanted to say something sexy in response to that. One of those double entendres or innuendoes women always say in Bond movies just before they bed Mr 007. Unfortunately, Patty's mind was blank. Therefore, she let her actions speak for her. After all, they were supposed to be louder than words.
    Kneeling so she was almost staring eyes to eye, Patty supplicated herself before Rod. Grabbing him by the shaft as gently as possible — she definitely didn't want a repeat of last time — Patty bought her lips to Rod's head. She gave him a little peck — an apology kiss — initially. Then she really went to work.
    Patty forced her mouth on Rod, trying to take all of him inside her. She couldn't do it. Rod was too big for her. She was lucky she didn't gag to death. Expelling what little of Rod fit in her mouth, Patty started gasping for air.
    "Are you okay?" a worried Jack asked. He'd witnessed this scenario several times in the past. An over-exuberant girl plus Rod at his most erect usually led to said girl gasping for air.
    "I — I'm fine," Patty gasped.
    Patty regained her breath and instantly started focusing on Rod. She had tried sucking the massive piece of man-meat and struck out. Hell, she almost passed out. Common sense suggested she keep her mouth away from Rod for the near future. There were other ways to get Jack's cum. That was the important thing, right, getting Jack's cum?
    Patty could always use her hands. That made sense. Can't take Rod in your mouth, take him in your hands. But where was the fun in that? That's something the old Patty would do. New Patty loved challenges. New Patty would get Rod off via her mouth or die trying.
    She went to Rod and started licking him. That was her new strategy. The logic being if you can't lick him inside, you might as well lick him outside.
    Her tongue ran itself up and down Rod's shaft...repeatedly. This got an immediate response of approval from Jack who said: "Rod said he likes the way you're doing that. Keep it up."
    "I'll keep it up as long as Rod keeps it up," Patty said sultrily, before returning to her licking.
    Mimi whipped out a legal pad and wrote word-for-word what Patty had just said. Spontaneously, lines like that were hard to come by.
    Bertha, seeing her write, asked what she was doing.
    "I'm noting Patty's sexual technique. You know? Her skills in fellatio, her seduction style, that sort of thing."
    "Why?"
    "To get paid, of course. Sex sells, you know. All I have to do is transform my notes into a book and — ka-ching, ka-ching — you're best friends with a millionaire."
    Bertha, being Bertha, planned to burst Mimi's bubble. She was going to tell Mimi how hard it was becoming a published author. She was going to tell her how it was even harder to become a millionaire published author. Bertha had the words on her lips. She was about to spew them in Mimi's direction, when she thought — really thought — about what type of book Mimi planned on publishing. She told the future author: "Put me down for the first copy. Okay, Mimi?"
    "Sure, B," Mimi said with a smile. She had thought for a moment Bertha was going to try to talk her out of writing her sex novel. "And since you're my best friend, I'll even autograph it and sell it to you at a discount."
    "You're kidding, right?"
    "Nope."
    "I'm your best friend, Mimi, but you're going to sell me your book at a discount. What kind of bull..."
    "Excuse you," Patty yelled, getting their attention. "Can't you see I'm working down here? I'm trying to get Jack's cum before Titty returns, remember?"
    "Oh, so that's what you're doing," Bertha said sarcastically.
    "What do you mean?"
    "Well, it looks like you're just licking Jack's dick to me," Bertha answered.
    "Yeah, I got to prime the pump. Get the cum out."
    "Then what, Patty? You gonna let it run on the floor?"
    "Well, no, I wasn't going to do that," Patty said.
    "Maybe, B, she's planning on getting on all fours and licking it up like a dog," Mimi added.
    "Cum's the secret formula, Mimi, remember? Maybe her plan is to let it hit the ground and then rub her naked body all over the cum spot."
    "Okay, guys, you've made your point," Patty said, just before she went back to licking Rod.
    "Uh, Patty..."Bertha said, trying to get her friend's attention.
    Patty continued her licking.
    "Patty," Bertha yelled.
    "What," Patty answered, annoyed, her Rod-licking again interrupted.
    "What are you doing?"
    "Isn't it obvious, Bertha, I'm giving Rod the best tongue-licking he's ever had."
    "First, how do you know that's the best tongue-licking Rod's ever had?"
    "Believe me, B, it is," Patty said confidently. This was the new Patty talking and she loved it. Old Patty didn't have enough sexual experience to say something cocky like that. New Patty didn't have that problem. Cocky was her middle name.
    Bertha chose to ignore new Patty. Let her be as delusional as she wanted. Life would soon slap her upside the head with reality. All Bertha would have to do is watch and laugh. Besides, that wasn't the important issue at hand. Jack's cum was.
    "Look, Patty," Bertha said as calmly as possible. "For the secret formula to work, you got to get the cum on your tits."
    "I know that."
    "Then don't you think it might help matters if you take your top off?"
    "Uh, well..."
    "No, Patty, leave the shirt on," Mimi said with a laugh. "That way it'll be the one to have tits and you can wear them when it's convenient and take them off when..."
    "Shut up, Mimi," Bertha and Patty said.
    "Well, I thought it was a good idea," Mimi said, trying her best to have the last word.
    "You're right, Bertha," Patty said, completely ignoring Mimi. "I need to take this shirt off. It's just that I saw Rod, started licking, and well, you know."
    "Yeah, I know," Bertha said, directing her attention towards Rod. "Believe me, I know."
    Patty, motivated by growing bigger tits and returning to Rod, started quickly removing her top. In moments, the shirt was in her hand. Patty was about to throw it on the floor but stopped. Throwing clothing on the floor would mess up her handiwork and that was a big no-no. Patty had to will herself consciously to throw the article of clothing on the floor. Titty really did train her well.
    Next was her bra. Patty unhooked it from the back, threw it on the floor, and watched as Rod went instantly soft.
    "Wha — what happened?" she asked.
    Jack looked down at Rod and said embarrassedly: "Uh oh."
    "Uh oh," Patty exclaimed, "What do you mean uh oh?"
    "I don't know — I don't know how to put this," Jack said.
    "Your tits aren't big enough, Patty," Mimi said.
    "Yeah, what she said."
    "I know they're not big enough. That's why I'm trying to get your cum on my tits. I know my tits aren't big enough."
    "Calm down, Patty," Bertha said.
    "No, Bertha, I will not calm down. This is ridiculous. This whole night is ridiculous. Us, sneaking around like Mission Impossible rejects. Us, trying to break into my own home when I have the key. Me, having to talk to Jack's dick. It's ridiculous. Now that dick doesn't want to perform because my tits are too small. Fuck that."
    "Patty..."Bertha started, but stopped. Patty had her full attention now. She was yelling at Rod. Finger waving, Patty said to Jack's flacid prick: "I order you to get hard, mister. I really do. You refusing to perform for us flatter girls is, uh, is...titism. That's what it is: pure and blatant titism. I can sue you for that, you know. So, if I were you, I'd get hard, Rod. You hear me. Get hard."
    Mimi, looking in Bertha's direction, rotated her index finger in a circular motion next to her temple while silently mouthing the word: "cuckoo".
    Bertha nodded in agreement. Patty had lost it. That child needed some mental help and fast. Or maybe she just needed to get laid. Either way, Patty needed something.
    "You're scaring Rod," Jack said, getting Patty's attention. "Look."
    Patty, Bertha, and Mimi looked at Rod. Jack did instruct them to do so. What they saw broke their hearts. Rod was so...so small now. Who would have thought it was possible? Jack's dick had gone from mammoth to miniscule.
    "Okay," Bertha said trying to control her panic. "Time to confab. We need to figure out something and fast. I mean, we're geniuses. Well, two of us are, at least."
    That wasn't necessary, Patty thought. It was true, but definitely not necessary. She knew she wasn't a genius and didn't need Bertha to point that fact out to her.
    "Bertha," she said, "I know I'm not a genius like you and Mimi, but I don't think..."
    "And that's why you're not a genius, Patty," Bertha said, "You don't think."
    "Good one, B."
    "Shut up, Mimi," Bertha and Patty said together.
    "Well, excuse me."
    "There's no excuse for you, Mimi." Thus, the, uh, friends engaged in a battle of words.
    Chicks fighting was cool...there was always the possibility of some lesbian sex action. That's what Jack and Rod thought initially as they watched Patty, Bertha, and Mimi. However, these chicks weren't fighting, not really fighting. They weren't ripping each other's clothes off and pulling hair. All they were doing was talking.
    "Yeah, Rod, I'm bored too," Jack said, talking to his still flacid dick. "Let's leave. Maybe we'll run into Titty or something."
    Rod twitched at the mention of Titty's name.
    "Yeah, I know we're mad at her," Jack said to Rod. "But next to Busty Blossom, she's got the biggest tits going."
    Jack was gathering up his clothes when he noticed something: the room was quiet. The non-fighting chicks finally stopped their loud talking. They turned towards him, saw that he was getting ready to leave and asked him where he was going.
    Jack wasn't good at lying. His mind didn't work that way. He tended to say the first thing that came to him, usually, the truth. Thus, he said: "Me and Rod are going to find Titty. We want to jug-fuck those tits of hers."
    "Titty," Patty screamed, "How dare you mention that bitch?"
    "Well, you asked," Jack said.
    "But what about me?" Patty asked.
    "What about you?" Jack replied.
    Bertha saw that Patty was about three steps away from charging Jack and attempting to wring his neck. It wouldn't have worked, of course. Jack would have overpowered Patty in a heartbeat. Still, one couldn't rule out adrenaline. Patty just might do enough damage to Jack that he couldn't supply them with the cum they wanted and needed. Time to play diplomat, Bertha thought.
    "Jack, please," she started. "We really do need you and Rod's help."
    "You do?"
    "Yes, we do. Right now you two are the only source of secret formula we got."
    "That's pretty sad, Bertha."
    "What's pretty sad?"
    "Well, you three," Jack said matter-of-factly. "I mean there's three of you and I'm the only guy you know that'll hook you up with cum. That's pitiful. What, you never heard of little black books? You've never heard of networking, flirting, and..."
    "We get your point, Jack," Bertha said through gritted teeth. Now she wanted to charge Jack and strangle him. Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she said: "Yes, it's sad. But, like I said, we really do need you and Rod's help."
    "I'd like to help, Bertha, but it just won't work. It just won't."
    "What won't work?" a confused Bertha asked him.
    "Rod coming on Patty. It just won't work."
    "Why not?" Bertha couldn't understand where Jack was coming from. She knew that his equipment — Rod — was functional. All three of them saw Rod in action earlier. Moreover, they knew via Patty's tales about Titty how often Jack serviced her mistress. Therefore, Rod should be working. What was the problem? Then the possible and probable answer to her question hit her: the obvious difference between Patty and Titty. Could that be it? Could that really be why Rod was no longer performing?
    It was. Jack confirmed it by saying: "Patty's tits are too small."
    "Well, if you would just cum on them, they'd grow," Patty screamed.
    "It won't work, Patty," Jack said. "Every time I look at your chest...well, Rod, he just goes...well, you know."
    Patty knew. She knew all too well. She was just about to give Jack a piece of her mind when Mimi said she had an idea.
    Patty watched Mimi walk over to Bertha. She signaled Bertha to lower herself so she was closer to her height. Once Bertha did that, Patty watched as Mimi whispered something in Bertha's ear.
    "Hmm," Bertha said thoughtfully. "That could work."
    "What could work?" Patty asked.
    "Mimi's idea," Bertha said just before turning to Jack, who she instructed to sit down.
    "I don't want to sit. I'm going to look for Titty."
    Bertha cracked her knuckles and said in her most intimidating voice: "Oh, Jack, you can go look for Titty, but she may no longer like looking at you."
    "What does that mean?"
    "Think about it, Jack. Just think about it."
    Jack did and sat down quickly. He didn't like those thoughts at all.
    "Okay, Patty, take your position," Bertha instructed.
    Patty, topless, walked over to Jack. She positioned herself perfectly for cumming. That is, if Rod ever got hard again.
    "Okay, Jack, close your eyes," Bertha said.
    "Why?"
    "Because if you don't close them, I'll black them."
    Jack closed his eyes.
    "Okay, Mimi, it's on you. Do your thing."
    "Thank you, Bertha. I will," Mimi responded. Only she wasn't speaking her usual Valley Girl. Instead, she was using her phone sex voice.
    Mimi's phone sex voice was really her Star Trek computer voice. Years ago, she had it in her head that Majel Barrett — the widow of the show's creator, Gene Roddenberry — would one day retire from all that was Trek. Sure, it was unlikely anything like that would ever happen, but Mimi could dream, couldn't she? Of course, she could.
    In her dreams, Star Trek producer Rick Berman would hold an open casting call for voice actors. Actresses Ming-Na and Lucy Liu — Mimi's only real competition — would be too busy doing ER and Ally McBeal, respectively, to even think about doing Trek. Without worrying about them, Mimi would seize her opportunity and become a part of the legend that is...Star Trek.
    There was a problem, of course. In life, there's always a problem. Mimi's problem was simple: she didn't have the voice for the job. But she had read the self-help books. She knew that every problem contained in it the seed of an equivalent or greater benefit. So, she started working on her computer voice. The opportunity to use that voice hadn't come — yet — but the voice itself did.
    One time, clowning around in the collegiate cafeteria, Mimi demonstrated the voice for Bertha. Some cute-looking guys at a neighboring table overheard this public display. One of them asked Mimi to do the voice again. She asked why and the guy told how sexy the voice sounded. "Really?" Mimi said surprised. The guy replied in the affirmative, telling Mimi that he knew guys paying two dollars a minute to hear people lacking half Mimi's vocal talents talk about sex.
    Mimi wasn't stupid. She took the phone sex comment as an opening and tried to set up a date with the guy. She almost succeeded, too. However, they started talking about their living arrangements and that was the end of that. Mimi inadvertently let slip that she was a tenant of Nerd Hall and the guy was gone faster than an Olympic sprinter in search of gold.
    Still, that was the origin of her phone sex voice. Mimi tried it out in some other mixed company situations — might as well stay in practice until Star Trek called — and got the same reactions. The guys loved the voice, always likening it to a phone sex operator. They never dated the owner of the voice but if she incorporated into a business, they would definitely pay whatever price she asked.
    Mimi thought seriously about that. Like most college students there were times when she could use extra money. Bertha and her even went to the trouble of coming up with a workable plan that would capitalize on Mimi's voice. They were all set to enter the lucrative and oh-so-profitable world of phone sex when Mimi bowed out. She couldn't do it. She could not sully her Star Trek voice by using it Ferengi-style purely for profit. Especially, porno profit. Mr Roddenberry would definitely not approve of that.
    Now, using the voice to get big tits was something altogether different. Sure, it was technically profit, but of the win-win variety. Mimi was sure Mr Roddenberry would approve. She thought about the various females featured in classic Star Trek and how buxom they appeared to be in their too-short mini-skirts. "Yeah," she said aloud to herself, "Gene was a tit-man, all right. He'd be all over this."
    "What did you say?" Jack asked.
    "I said think of Titty," Mimi replied using her phone sex voice.
    "Titty," screamed Patty, "Why in the world should he be thinking about that bitch? I'm the one that's here. Fuck Titty and..."
    Bertha clamped her massive hand over Patty's mouth and started whispering Mimi's plan. She thought Patty would be ecstatic with it. It was a very good plan. Patty wasn't happy, though.
    "Why do we have to do all that?" Patty asked.
    "Because your tits aren't big enough to get Rod hard."
    "My tits are bigger than yours, Bertha."
    That was a low blow. Patty knew better than that. Of course, she had bigger tits than Bertha she had access to the secret formula. Not too much of it — because of Titty's hoarding it — but enough of it to make Patty bigger than she once was. It wasn't fair her comparing the size of her tits to Bertha and Mimi who didn't have access to the Formula. It just wasn't fair. Bertha almost slapped Patty to protest just how unfair the matter was, but stopped. Now wasn't the time for that. Getting the formula was all that mattered.
    "Yes, Patty, your tits are bigger than mine and Titty's tits are bigger than yours. And the difference in both cases is the amount of Formula used by the respective parties."
    "Well, that makes..."
    "Yes, it should make sense, Patty," Bertha said, following Patty's train of thought. "The more Formula someone has access to the bigger their tits can get. It's simple and straightforward. It's the reason for all the stuff we've done today. We want and need the Formula. Jack and Rod have the formula. We're just trying to get some."
    "But to use Titty, Bertha, I just..."
    "Just what? You don't like the bitch. We got that, Patty. Unfortunately, Rod won't get hard for you and it's doubtful he'll get hard for me and Mimi. As you so eloquently stated, Patty, your tits are bigger than mine. However, they aren't as big as Titty's."
    "Well, uh..."
    "You got any better ideas, Patty?"
    "No, Bertha."
    "And you still want bigger tits, right?"
    "Yes."
    "Then it looks like it's Mimi's plan or nothing."
    Patty didn't say anything.
    "Right?" Bertha asked her, seeking an audible response.
    Patty didn't respond audibly, however she did respond. She nodded her head.
    Damn right, Bertha thought. You had better nod your head, bitch.
    "Can I open my eyes, yet?" Jack asked.
    "No," Patty, Bertha, and Mimi said together.
    "Why not?"
    "Jack, remember what I said about blacking them?" Bertha inquired.
    "Uh, yeah."
    "That's why you should keep them close."
    "Uh, yeah, that's right. I forgot, Bertha."
    Bertha was going to reprimand Jack for forgetting. She was going to say something intimidating like don't let it happen again, but what would be the point: If he forgot, he forgot. Also, Bertha didn't like threatening and intimidating their only source of secret formula. It didn't seem smart. What if her constant threats affected Jack's and Rod's performance to the point where they couldn't supply what was needed? No, better to leave Jack alone and go along with the plan.
    "Mimi, carry on," Bertha instructed.
    "Jack," Mimi began in her phone sex voice, "Do you hear my voice?"
    "Yes, I'm not deaf, you know."
    "Good, Jack, it is good — very good — that you are not deaf. I want — no, I need — you to hear every word I say. Can you do that for me?"
    "Uh, yeah, I can do that."
    "Good, Jack, very good. I want you to think about Titty, Jack. Can you do that for me?"
    "Ooooh, Titty," Jack said, seeing a mental image of his fuck buddy and liking what he saw.
    "Is Titty wearing clothes, Jack?" Mimi asked.
    "Yes, she is."
    "Get her out of them."
    "Pardon?"
    "I want Titty to strip for you, Jack."
    "I want that too," Jack said.
    "Well, make it happen then," Mimi said.

Jack's mental image of Titty was barefoot wearing a tight dress-like construction. It was hot pink in color and left little to the imagination. It was so tight that Jack could see that Titty wasn't wearing panties. She was wearing a bra, though. Jack couldn't figure out why she would wear one and not the other. It didn't make sense. Still, he had to admit he liked what he saw. He was going to love stripping this.
    Titty grabbed the bottom of the dress and eased it upward. Jack caught a glimpse of her pubic hair when she lowered the dress. She did this for awhile teasing him. Normally this type of activity — foreplay — ignored the hell out of Jack, but not this time. Titty was really doing a number on him...and Rod. Rod seemed to be enjoying Titty's show of tease even more than Jack. He was slowly but surely returning to his mammoth proportions.
    The mental image of Titty stopped messing with the bottom of her dress. She looked apologetically at Jack and said: "What am I doing, Jack? Here I've been teasing you with my pussy. That's not what you want, Jack."
    "Well actually, Titty..."
    "You're a breast man, Jack, you don't care about my pussy, not when I have these two melons just waiting to please you."
    Jack couldn't really disagree with that. He was a breast man and did care more about Titty's melons than anything else. Of course, he was an equal opportunity employer when it came to sexual matters. If Titty offered her pussy to him, he wouldn't exactly refuse it.
    Jack watched Titty as she worked the straps of her dress off her shoulders. She did this, revealing a new layer of straps: the ones belonging to her bra. Thick and black, they contrasted strongly with the hot pink material of her dress. They also had Jack's undivided attention.
    Jack was so fixated on the straps of Titty's mammoth boulder holder that he missed her removing her dress and dropping it on the floor. Somehow, he lost time. One moment he was looking at Titty working the straps of her hot pink dress off and the next she was standing in front of him bottomless wearing a massive black bra.
    "Do you like my bra, Jack?" she asked him.
    Jack couldn't talk. He didn't have the required words. So, he nodded his head in approval.
    "It's a 36-Z, you know," she said, her hands cupping underneath the bra. "But it's not big enough, Jack. I think I'm going to have to buy a brand new one this week."
    Jack came close to shooting a load. He couldn't believe his ears. Did Titty really reveal her bra size? She usually wasn't that forthcoming with that kind of information. She would always say a girl has to have some secrets. However, to find out she wore a 36-Z and was outgrowing it...it was unbelievable.
    "Can I — I go bra shopping with you, Titty?" he asked her.
    "Now Jack, you know you can't do that. Bra shopping's women work."
    Jack started frowning. He really wanted to go bra shopping with Titty. He couldn't think of anything else he desired more. "Please," he said.
    Titty heard Jack's voice. It sounded pitiful. It lacked Jack's usual confidence and strength. She also saw the look on his face. It was equally sad.
    "You can come, Jack," she said.
    "Shouldn't you take off your bra first," he answered.
    "What?" a puzzled Titty asked. Then she realized what Jack was thinking in that tiny little brain of his. "I wasn't talking about that kind of coming, Jack. I meant you could 'come' bra shopping with me."
    "Oh, goodie," Jack squealed. He sounded like a four-year old hearing his family was going to McDonald's for Happy Meals. "I just love seeing your tits in your bras, Titty."
    "Oh, you do, Jack," Titty said. "Well, how about my tits out of my bras. How much do you like that?"
    "A lot. I like that a lot."
    "Show me, then."
    Jack ran over to Titty. Grabbing the front of the bra, he pulled outward, and ripped the bra off.
    "Jack, you destroyed my bra," Titty said in mock astonishment.
    "You were going to buy a new one when you went bra shopping, right?"
    "Right."
    "Then what's the problem?"
    Titty thought about Jack's question and answered: "The only problem I can see is that your hands are holding the tattered remains of my bra and not my tits."
    "What?" Jack asked, looking confused.
    "Drop the bra and grab my tits, Jack."
    Jack did as Titty commanded. Sort of. He didn't grab both her tits, just one. His other hand was busy elsewhere. It was busy stroking Rod.
    Jack's right hand was trying its best to pleasure Titty, while his left was essentially doing the same with Rod. Of the two, the right was having the most difficulties. There was just too much tit-flesh on Titty for one hand to contend with.
    Jack tried manipulating Titty's nipples. He rubbed, pulled, and twisted them. He tried giving equal time to both, but couldn't. Every time Jack's right had a good rhythm going, Titty's tit-flesh — initially held back dam-like by Jack's forearm — would suddenly overwhelm the hand, moving it out of position.
    Jack thought of taking his left off Rod. It would really help his right hand out, two hands being better than one. But Rod was so close to coming. Two hands on Titty or keep stroking Rod — what a dilemma. Jack kept stroking.
    The resulting, uh, Formula from Rod was immense. It didn't come out in a gentle stream but a massive dollop. One moment, Patty's chest was bare, the next it was totally cum-covered. If she didn't know about Jack's and Titty's marathon fuck sessions, she would have sworn that Jack had been abstaining from sex for an extended period of time. That would explain the massive amount of cum generated by Jack and Rod. However, that wasn't the case.
    Where did all this cum come from? Patty's mind asked. That was the question. Patty couldn't escape the feeling that answering this single question would have a major effect on Bertha, Mimi, herself...and others. Patty didn't exactly know who these others were. She admittedly didn't know a lot of things. All she really knew was the importance of answering the question: Where did all the cum generated by Jack and Rod come from?
    Unfortunately, the answer to that question would have to wait. There were more immediate things to deal with. Like the cum running down Patty's chest.
    "He sure did a number on you," Bertha exclaimed.
    "And then some," Patty said.
    "Well, Patty, we asked for secret formula and we got secret formula."
    Patty was going to ask Bertha what she meant by all this "we" stuff. She, not Bertha and Mimi, was the one covered in cum. She was the resident guinea pig. However, Patty didn't say any of that. Instead, she said: "I think Jack overdid it. This is too much Formula."
    "Nonsense," Bertha said, "You can never have too much Formula."
    "But how am I suppose to get all this into my skin?" Patty asked worriedly.
    "Rub it."
    Patty did as Bertha suggested. It wasn't easy...at first. Initially, there seemed to be more cum than skin. "I don't know where to start, B," Patty said.
    "Just rub it in, Patty."
    "But there's just so much. My hands can't even touch my skin, let alone rub cum in my skin."
    Bertha was about to say, "rub it in" again, but stopped herself. Actions spoke louder than words. She signaled Mimi to accompany her. Together, the two friends went over to Patty and started rubbing cum into Patty's skin.
    "She's right, B," Mimi said, dumping her phone sex voice and talking her normal Valley Girl speak. "There sure is a lot of this stuff."
    "Not you too, Mimi."
    "Hey, I call it like I see it."
    "It sure is cold," Patty said.
    "Like, hel-lo? Cum starts to freeze after five seconds. What, you didn't know that?"
    "Keep rubbing," Bertha said with a sigh.
    And they did. The three friends doing their damndest to work Jack's cum into Patty. They made a lot more progress working together than Patty did working by herself. However, it wasn't enough. It still took too long.
    They thought about asking Jack for help. It was, after all, his (and Rod's) cum. But Jack was out of commission. Cumming the way he did, he became catatonic.
    Bertha thought about assisting him, seeing if she could administer some type of First Aid or something. It was the humane thing to do. Then she took a real good look at Jack. He looked like the subject of a cryogenic experience: a person literally on ice. He wouldn't be going anywhere soon. To Bertha, that was a good thing. Odds were they would require his service later — Patty had her share of the Formula, but what about Mimi and Bertha — so what would be the point of thawing him
    "Stay cool, Jack," Bertha said, continuing her cum-rubbing.
    Patty, Bertha, and Mimi knew they were ignorant about the Formula. All they really had to go on was Patty's personal experience and recollections of Blossom and Titty. They didn't know exactly what to expect. How much cum was necessary for breast growth? What factors, if any, accelerated the growth? The answers to these and other questions were unknown to the three. Nevertheless, they acted fast. Since no one really knew the effective shelf life of cum, they felt time was of the essence.
    Eventually, the cum was gone. It was all worked into Patty's flesh.
    "Now what?" Mimi asked.
    "Now we wait," Bertha answered.
    They didn't have to wait long. The growth was both immediate and extreme. One moment, Patty was a borderline C-cup — slightly bigger than the average woman was, but non-existent when compared to the likes of Blossom and Titty — the next she had breasts so large you could barely see the rest of her.
    Patty's rapid growth stunned Bertha and Mimi. Their scientific minds couldn't comprehend this sort of breast enlargement. Where did all that mass come from? What about energy, what fed the growth? To them, this wasn't reality, but fantasy. The sort of thing some breast obsessed wannabe writer with visions of gargantuan proportions impossible on Earth would write.
    Nevertheless, this wasn't fantasy. It wasn't the work of some breast obsessed writer so busy jacking off that he probably couldn't finish a story if he got paid to do so. It was really happening. They could see it with their own eyes. Patty was really growing the biggest tits on the planet. Tits they could have as well, because the Formula worked. Boy, did it work.
    While Bertha and Mimi observed the rapid growth of Patty's tits, the owner of those tits was doing her best to stand up. She didn't succeed. Patty fell on her ass, hard.
    "Oooh," she exclaimed.
    This got the attention of Bertha and Mimi who ran to assist her. Bertha, all 6' 4"and 300 pounds of her, tried lifting Patty. She couldn't do it. This amazed her since in the past she demonstrated on numerous occasions her ability to pick up simultaneously both Patty and Mimi.
    "I'm going to need your help here, Mimi," she said.
    "You are?" Mimi said dumbfounded.
    "Yeah."
    Mimi, being the smallest of the three, contributed what help she could. Admittedly, it wasn't much. However, it did prove sufficient in this case. She and Bertha were able to get Patty back on her feet.
    "Thanks guys," Patty said in a labored voice. Then, as if this was the first time she noticed her newly grown tits, she said: "Wow! Look at me, I'm huge."
    Huge was an understatement and it was impossible not to look at Patty. Bertha and Mimi said perfunctorily: "Yeah, Patty, they're really huge." Their minds were on getting their own huge tits, they weren't thinking about Patty.
    This was fine to Patty. She wasn't thinking too much about them, either. Oh, sure, they were an audience to the spectacle that was her tits. So what? There was a worldwide audience out there just waiting to see her tits. And if the audience was made up of cute guys with money and Rod-sized cocks so much the better.
    Speaking of Rod-sized cocks, Patty looked over to the catatonic Jack. "What's wrong with him?" she asked.
    "You," Bertha said with an edge to her voice. "Rod squirted so much on you that poor Jack went into cum-shock."
    "Oh, that's too bad," Patty said, saying the words, but not really meaning them. Sure, it was a little cold-blooded on her part, but she had hers now. She had the tits she always dreamed about thanks to Jack and Rod. Of course, It would be nice if Bertha and Mimi received their dream tits as well. Of course, it would. But, hey, you can't have everything. They were geniuses — resourceful and all — they could find their own cum-producing stud just like Patty. And if they didn't, well, one out of three wasn't bad. Especially, if that one was Patty.
    "Yeah, too bad," Bertha grunted. She heard the lack of concern in Patty's voice and noticed the "I got mine, forget about yours" attitude she was now displaying. Bitch, she thought, it sure didn't take her long to become another Titty.
    "So, does that mean I can retire my phone sex voice?" Mimi asked, missing the static going on between Bertha and Patty. Her attention was still on Jack and Rod.
    "Yeah, you might as well, Mimi," Bertha said. "I don't see Jack doing any more cumming."
    Mimi walked over to Jack. Bending over, she said to Rod directly in her phone sex voice: "You did well, Rod, you really did. I, of course, wish you were able to do a little bit more, but what you did was..."
    Rod came to life.
    "B, come here," Mimi screamed in her normal voice. "He's alive. Rod's alive."
    "That's impossible," Patty said, watching Bertha run towards Mimi, Jack, and Rod. She, of course, thanks to her newly grown bulk, was unable to run anywhere. The best she could manage was a sort of waddling forward. Patty did this, thinking all the while that if Rod was functioning then it was now possible Bertha and Mimi could outgrow her. That thought didn't exactly bring a smile to her face. She, damn it, wanted to be the biggest...of all.
    "I don't believe it, Mimi," Bertha exclaimed, "but look at it. Rod's back, and he's looking bigger than ever."
    Patty, finally arriving on the scene, saw that Bertha was right: Rod was not only back, but he looked even bigger than he did earlier. "That's impossible," Patty said, repeating the thought going through her head.
    "You're right, Patty," Bertha said, shifting into her analytical genius mindset. "Ejaculating cum the way he did — with such force and large quantity — Jack and, of course, Rod should be unable to perform for about a month. However, I believe — not without absolute certainty, of course — we would have to do some more scientific experiments for me to really believe. But I believe, using my modified definition of the word, that somehow we stumbled on a sexual catalyst. A foreign agent; some unique chemical, frequency, or other property unfamiliar to us that enabled Jack and Rod to perform when said performance should have been impossible. I also believe that in addition to boosting performance, the sexual catalyst boosted the output of that performance, which is..."
    "Bertha could you speak English," Patty said. "I don't know what the hell you're talking about."
    "I am speaking English," Bertha said annoyed. "I'm just speaking it on a college level, not a pre-school one like some people I know."
    "What's that supposed to mean?" Patty asked.
    "I'll get Barney or Big Bird to tell you, Patty, they seem to speak on your level."
    "Bitch, I'll..."
    "What, Patty? What are you going to do to me?"
    "Let me handle this," Mimi said, getting between her friends and playing peacemaker. She took a deep breath and noticed her friends were doing the same. Good, she thought, blows weren't thrown and everyone was trying to calm down. "Patty?"
    "Yes," Her tone sounded harsh even to her ears. Mimi wasn't who she was angry at, though, so she tried to take some of the edge off. "I mean, I'm listening, Mimi."
    The voice still sounded harsh, but Mimi noticed Patty was trying to make an effort. If she wasn't then Mimi wouldn't tell her shit. "Okay, Patty," Mimi began, "remember all the cum that Jack and Rod squirted on you?"
    "Yeah."
    "Remember how that cum hit you like a fire hose?"
    "Yeah."
    "Well, Patty, that ain't normal."
    "Uh, I guess..."
    "And the way Jack recovered, Patty?"
    "Yes."
    "That really ain't normal."
    "So." Patty said disdainfully. In many ways, Mimi's blunt dissertation was worse than Bertha's know-it-all scientist routine.
    "So, all B. was telling you was that somehow we stumbled on something that can make a man cum like a fire hose and instantly recover afterwards."
    "Oh," Patty said, finally understanding what was going on. "Then how come Bertha didn't just say that."
    "I did," Bertha said in a voice laced with annoyance.
    "Well, do we know what this 'something' is, Mimi?" Patty asked, ignoring Bertha.
    "No, Patty, we don't."
    "Well, shouldn't we try to find out?"
    "Yes, Patty, we should," Mimi answered, annoyance creeping in her voice.
    "Well, when...when are we going to find out?"
    "After I get my tits," Bertha answered, beginning the removal of her clothes.
    "Excuse you," Mimi said.
    "Excuse you, too," Bertha said.
    "No, B, I'm saying that if anyone should be going next, it's me."
    "And why's that?"
    "Uh, well..."Mimi began, trying to think up an excuse. "I'm the shortest."
    "Sorry, Mimi, that's not good enough."
    "What about alphabetically, then?" Mimi blurted out reflexively.
    "Okay, Mimi. Bertha comes before Mimi..."
    "But Chang..."
    "Follows Billings," Bertha finished with a smile. "I got you either way, Mimi."
    "Damn," Mimi said, realizing her error in choosing alphabetically. She should have said chronologically. "But what if Jack and Rod run out of cum?"
    "Then you'll get your tits tomorrow or whenever," Bertha answered.
    "But I don't want to wait tomorrow or whenever," Mimi whined.
    "Well, figure out the sexual catalyst and you won't have to."
    "You mean, solve a scientific problem?"
    Knowing how much Mimi liked solving problems of any kind, especially those of a scientific nature, Bertha replied enthusiastically: "Yeah, Mimi, solve the problem."
    "I can do that," Mimi said confidently.
    "Good," Bertha said. "While you're doing that, I'll be getting my tits."
    Patty cleared her throat. Still wanting to possess the biggest tits on the planet, she was about to voice an objection and try to stop Bertha from getting bigger tits. Then she saw the look on Bertha's face.
    The look persuaded Patty to clam up. It said — rather clearly, Patty might add — that Bertha was definitely going to get her tits and no one and no thing was going to stop her.
    "You have something to say, Patty?" Bertha asked.
    "Uh, no."
    "Good, bring on the tits," Bertha said, moving towards Jack and Rod.

Bertha started removing her clothing before her "who goes first, who goes last" conversation with Mimi. Therefore, once she stood in front of an erect 90-degree angle-pointing Rod, the only thing she needed to remove was her bra. This should have been easy. Bertha's bra was a sports type — more of an undershirt than a traditional brassiere — which she could pull effortlessly over her head. But Bertha wasn't doing the necessary overhead pulling.
    Mimi noticed this and said: "Get a move on, Bertha, we don't have all day."
    "Okay," Bertha said, but her hands stood where they were.
    "Look, B, if you're just going to stand there and not do anything then you forfeit your turn," Mimi said. "Move your big ass out of the way and let me do it."
    "Maybe, she's lost her nerve, Mimi," Patty said. "Big tits aren't for everyone, just the special people."
    When Patty said her "special people" line, she rubbed her tits in an exaggerated manner for emphasis. It was an act witnessed by both Bertha and Mimi. Which was good, Patty wanted them to see. She was trying to make a point — that she had special tits and was special because of them — and to make that point she needed an audience. Bertha and Mimi (and maybe Rod), being the only people (and non-people) lucid in the room, were chosen for the job.
    Patty saw that Mimi heard the special line but that it didn't have any visible effect on her. Patty's point was lost on her. Mimi was too concerned with being the next recipient of Jack's and Rod's cum to care about Patty and how special she was. Bertha, however, was a different matter.
    Patty saw her shudder. She didn't know why — Bertha was a friend (at least, until her 24 hours was up) — but watching her shudder like that gave her an enormous sense of pleasure. A part of Patty's consciousness warned her to check herself before she wrecked herself. It told her to be careful of becoming another Titty. This last part made Patty laugh. "Become another Titty"? That was impossible. To do that, Patty would have to give up a minimum of six or seven cup-sizes. There was no way she'd ever let anything like that happen.
    Bertha knew what Patty was trying to do and she didn't like it. Patty was trying to psych her out. Why? Bertha didn't have to look far for an answer to that question. It was the old line of absolute power — or in Patty's case, absolutely enormous tits — corrupting absolutely. Patty was power-tripping pure and simple.
    Bertha knew the best way to deal with power-tripping Patty was to give her a dose of her own medicine. All Bertha (and Mimi, for that matter) had to do was grow their own pair of enormous tits. Faced with equals, who she couldn't laud her bounty over, Patty would return to her normal self. That made sense. All Bertha had to do was get bigger tits.
    Then why wasn't she getting them? Rod was ready. Hell, he was more than ready. All she had to do was touch him and he'd probably squirt as much on her as he did Patty. It was so straightforward and yet she wasn't getting her dream tits.
    Bertha looked down at her chest. That's where the problem was. She, like Patty and Mimi, had a complex about her tits. In fact, since she was so much taller and bigger (except where it counts) than them, Bertha would swear her complex was worse than theirs was. And rightly so. There's nothing as pathetic as a big girl with no tits.
    "B, either shit or get off the pot," Mimi yelled at her.
    "Yeah, Bertha, stay flat," a smiling Patty said. "We know how much guys like flat-chested amazons like yourself. In fact, real amazons used to cut off a breast to have your look."
    That did it. Where the fuck did Patty get off saying some shit like that? Bertha not only heard the words but also saw Patty's face when she said them. It wasn't a pretty sight. The girl looked positively evil.
    "Complex or no complex," Bertha said to herself as she removed her sports bra, "Time to nip that bitch's attitude in the bud."
    "Oh, Bertha, you're even flatter than I remember," Patty said. She had one chance to get rid of Bertha as competition and this was it.
    It didn't work. Bertha ignored her, grabbing hold of Rod with her right hand. She started sliding her hand up and down Rod's shaft, but that wasn't necessary. The mysterious sexual catalyst — which Mimi was still trying to figure out — had Rod so keyed up that with one stroke he squirted on Bertha. Amazingly, the resulting cum was greater than the amount that transformed Patty.
    "Mimi, can you and Patty give me a hand?" Bertha asked, her hands already rubbing the cum in her skin.
    Mimi said yes without hesitation, but Patty was another matter. She knew Rod squirted more cum on Bertha's chest than he did on hers. There was no way she could miss it; Bertha was literally dripping with the stuff. That meant Bertha would have bigger tits. Sure, no one knew exactly how the secret Formula worked, but the odds were the more cum you used the bigger your tits would get. That was bad. However, Bertha was now requesting Patty's assistance in making her tits outgrow Patty's newly grown pair. That, to Patty was a full-fledged nightmare. But what could she do about it?
    She went over to Bertha with Mimi and started rubbing in the cum. That's what she did. But she didn't like it one bit.
    Bertha liked it though. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the tactile sensations that threatened to overwhelm her. The combination of the warm cum slowly turning cold, the ministrations of Patty and Mimi, and Bertha's own massaging hands sent sensual shivers up and down her body. She could feel herself getting wet in her nether regions.
    "Don't stop," she whispered.
    "Did you say something, B?" Mimi asked her.
    "Don't stop," Bertha said. She hadn't heard Mimi, "don't stop" were just the words that came out of her mouth.
    "We have to, B." Mimi said, "There's no more cum left to rub in."
    "Wha — what?" Bertha asked, snapping out of her erotic pleasure. This effectively stopped her from coming. She'd have to do that another time. Her tits were the important things now.
    Bertha looked down at her chest. Damn, I'm still flat, she thought, before realizing that she spoke too soon.
    Her tits didn't grow as fast as Patty's, but they grew fast enough. It was as if they were air-pumped. Bertha could imagine some invisible angel-like figure going up and down on the pump's handle: Up, Down, B-cup...Up, Down, C-cup...Up, Down, Bigger than that bitch, Patty. Bertha was waiting for that moment: the moment her mighty mams dwarfed Patty's. All that was necessary for that to happen was for Bertha's invisible pumper to continue the way he or she was going.
    "C'mon, pumper," she said.
    "Did you say something, Bertha?" Patty asked.
    "Yeah, I was commenting on how quickly I seem to be gaining on you, Patty."
    "You are..." Patty began. She was going to say: "you are not, Bertha," but something told her she wouldn't get away with saying that. That something was Bertha's tits. They had gotten huge. Bigger than huge, even. What word best described them?
    "My tits are bigger than yours, Patty," Bertha said proudly as if she had just read Patty's mind. "And they're still growing."
    Patty's mind was still reeling from the fact that Bertha's tits so quickly surpassed her own newly grown tits. How can you have the biggest tits on the planet one-minute and then be runner-up the next? It didn't make sense. There ought to be a law that the holder of the biggest tits on the planet can at least keep the title and position for a whole day. A measly 24-hours wasn't asking that much, was it?
    As if to add salt to Patty's already open wound and play on a line that's beyond played out, Bertha announced: "I'm Queen of the World. I must have the biggest tits on the planet."
    "Enjoy it while you can," Patty grumbled. "The queen has a bad habit of being dethroned rather quickly...like a lousy 24-hours."
    Bertha wasn't listening to Patty, she was too busy watching her tits grow past the alphabet. Mimi heard Patty, though, and she wasn't happy. She said: "Well, at least you and B. have your tits, Patty. What about me, I still haven't found the sexual catalyst."
    That's right, Patty thought, Mimi was still flat. She was, in fact, flatter than flat. She still had someone to taunt with her former biggest tits on the planet. A smile crept on her face as she thought about the weeks, the months, hell, even the years she could torture Mimi. Genius or not, there was no way she was finding this so-called sexual catalyst. So, let the torturing begin.
    Patty was about to throw a flat-chested zinger Mimi's way. She had the words and the right delivery of those words firmly in mind. It was going to be hilarious. For her at least, Mimi might not have enjoyed it as much. However, one look at the newly grown Bertha and those words died where they lay: on Patty's tongue.
    Bertha stopped growing, which was a good thing, since there was only so much space in the dorm room. Between her tits and Patty's, space was becoming a limited commodity. It was enough to turn a person claustrophobic.
    "Well, look at you two," Mimi said, her eyes doing an evaluation of Bertha and Patty. "Bertha, your tits...they just leave me speechless."
    "That's a first," Bertha said.
    "And you, Patty," Mimi said, ignoring Bertha's comment, while all the while proving its accuracy, "for a moment I thought you had the biggest tits on the planet."
    "So did I, Mimi, so did I."
    "But B makes you look flat-chested."
    "I wouldn't say that," Patty said.
    "You don't have to. All you have to do is look at B's tits. They dwarf yours."
    "Well, Bertha is an amazon. She's 6' 4"and..."
    "Bertha's not an amazon," Mimi said in a serious tone of voice. "Those women cut off their tits. Bertha not only has her tits, but she has so much tit-flesh now that, if she wanted to, she could replace every tit an amazon village lopped off."
    Patty thought Mimi was exaggerating. She had to be. But a quick look at Bertha made her unsure. Bertha might actually be able to do what Mimi said she could.
    "You find the sexual catalyst yet, Mimi?" Bertha asked.
    Patty, thankful that Bertha changed the subject to something other than her tits, said: "Yeah, Mimi, how is that scientific puzzle of yours going?"
    "I want to see if the breast expansion resulting from Jack and Rod is operating on a geometric progression basis," Bertha added.
    "Excuse me, but what are you talking about, Bertha?"
    "Well, Patty, seeing as how my tits outgrew yours so much and I was the second person to benefit from Rod's secret formula, I was just wondering if Mimi would outgrow me in the same fashion."
    Mimi outgrowing Bertha. That thought never entered Patty's mind. Could it really be possible? "Mimi outgrowing you wouldn't really happen. It wouldn't make sense. Your tits got so big because you're such an ama — uh, I mean because you're so tall."
    "Maybe, but who's to say? None of us here really knows how this secret formula stuff works. I might have outgrown you because I'm taller and have a larger frame. On the other hand, I might have outgrown you because I was the next person to benefit from the Formula. We really won't know the truth, Patty, until the sexual catalyst is discovered and Mimi gets her super-sized tits."
    "And unfortunately, I'm clueless," Mimi said. "I'm totally, starring Alicia Silverstone as Claire, Clueless."
    "Ahh, that's too bad," Patty said.
    Mimi heard the snide manner Patty commented on her predicament. Oh, since I'm the flattest person in this room, I've been singled out to receive her Mistress Titty act, she thought. Fuck that. I should sick B. on her. That's what I should do: make her feel as flat as I am. But no, I know a better way to handle Bitchy Patty.
    "Yeah, Patty, it is too bad," Mimi said. "All my studying seems to suggest that the formula works on a geometric progression model. Based on my calculations, I've concluded that I have a 95% chance of outgrowing Bertha on the same level she outgrew you."
    "95% chance?" Patty asked in wonder.
    "Give or take a percentage point."
    Bertha laughed inwardly. She knew Mimi was talking shit. There was no way; without experimenting further, for her to come up with those statistics she was quoting. Bertha knew Mimi's act was all for Patty's benefit...or detriment.
    "Well, I hope you don't mind being immobile, Mimi," Bertha said, playing along. "'Cause if your tits are going to be bigger than mine, I really don't see you moving around that much."
    "Hey, I'll have the biggest tits on the planet," Mimi said proudly. "I'm sure I'll find someone willing to serve me. I mean, I can always use Patty."
    "Excuse me," Patty said.
    "Yes," Mimi said, as if noticing Patty for the first time. "May I help you."
    "What do you mean 'I can always use Patty'?"
    "Oh, that. I was just telling Bertha how being immobile isn't such a big deal when you can get someone to serve you. And with your experience serving girls with bigger tits than yours — you know, Titty and Blossom, although you dwarf both of them now — I just felt you'd be a natural for the job."
    "Oh, that's what you thought?"
    "Yeah, once I have the biggest tits on the planet, I would..."
    "Well, you don't have the biggest tits on the planet," Patty said harshly. "In fact, you don't have any tits."
    Mimi refused to take the bait. She wasn't going to be bothered by Patty's verbal jab. Instead, she said in a matter-of-fact voice: "I know I don't have any tits, Patty, yet. That's why the S.C. — sexual catalyst — is so important. It's only a matter of time, you know. I'll unravel this mystery, use the S.C. on Jack and Rod, get my super-sized tits, and take my rightful place as owner of the biggest tits on the planet."
    "I don't believe you, Mimi."
    "Why not?"
    "'Cause if it was that easy to get this S.C. of yours, you would have done it by now. You're busted — except where it counts — you are all out of ideas. You've done everything to try to get Jack and Rod ready but use that stupid phone sex voice of yours."
    "My phone sex voice is not stupid."
    "Yes, it is."
    "I made it for the late, great Gene Roddenberry."
    "He's stupid too."
    "No, he's not."
    "Earth to Enterprise, beam me a clue," Patty said, doing her best William Shatner. "There's nothing on this planet but fanatic fan-boys and stupid phone sex girls."
    "Tha — that's sacrilege," Mimi screamed. "How dare you soil the name and reputation of Original Star Trek and the Great Bird of the Galaxy by..."
    "Shut up, Mimi," Patty said. She was so through with this conversation. She refused to waste any more time arguing the stupidity of Star Trek and Mimi's computer/phone sex voice. Patricia Harding was done.
    Mimi Chang wasn't. Instead of another dissertation on the greatness of Star Trek and its creator, she started grunting at Patty.
    The grunts were of the same timbre as Mimi's computer/phone sex voice. They sounded sort of like words and yet they didn't. Patty wasn't sure what Mimi was doing or trying to do. She replied to Mimi's grunts by saying: "What's a matter, Mimi, your voice having an identity crisis? It no longer knows whether it's a Star Trek computer or a phone sex seducer. What's the problem, Mimi?"
    "You're the problem," Mimi screamed. "That wasn't my phone sex voice and you know it. I was speaking Klingon, damn it. I was cussing you out in Klingonese."
    "Klingonese? One moment you want to be a computer on the Enterprise, the next you're a phone sex operator. Really, Mimi," Patty said, "you ought to have a chart. You and your stupid voices can be so confusing."
    "Arrrgh!" Mimi screamed, charging Patty like a rhino.
    Patty expected this sort of attack from Mimi and planned accordingly. She waited for the smaller girl to get within range and then twisted the trunk of her body...hard. This simple movement caused Patty's mammoth mams to swing like a homerun seeking batter, sending the incoming Mimi flying back in the direction from whence she came.
    "Homerun," Patty squealed.
    "Bitch," Mimi screamed, preparing for another, smarter, hopefully more successful charge.
    "Patty, Mimi, stop," Bertha yelled, trying to get their attention. "I've discovered the S.C. I've discovered the sexual catalyst."
    Patty and Mimi ignored Bertha; thus, she would have to take matters in her own hands...literally.
    Bertha walked over to Mimi. The smaller girl was unsuccessfully trying to penetrate the barrier formed by Patty's newly grown tits. Pushing and shoving forward, she tried to get her hands around her tormentor, but it was no use, there was no give in Patty's tits. The two mountains of tit-flesh bounced Mimi around like a corn kernel in an air popper. It was so frustrating to Mimi, but she refused to give up. She'd do this all night if she had to.
    Bertha knew all about Mimi's determination. She couldn't count the number of times her roommate pulled an all-nighter trying to solve a so-called impossible math or science problem. Mimi was relentless that way. She was fatigue-proof, able to energize herself in situations that would drain most people. Unless Bertha bought it to a swift and final ending, Mimi killing Patty looked to be like one of those situations.
    Bertha got as close to Mimi as she could without KO-ing her with her tits. It wasn't easy judging distances when you were in one zip code and your tits were in another. Not that Bertha was complaining, after years of being the big girl with no tits, having tits the size she had now was a dream come true. It could be a dream come true for Mimi too if she would only stop trying to kill Patty and listen.
    Like that would ever happen, Bertha thought, knowing the futility of that particular scenario. Mimi could be so stubborn and Patty wasn't helping matters either. Well, like the saying says: "If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself."
    "Come here, Mimi," Bertha said, yanking her squirming form off Patty. It wasn't hard...Mimi weighed nothing to Bertha. The difficult thing for Bertha was grabbing Mimi with one hand and shifting her tits out of the way with the other. She more or less succeeded. Her tits only hit Mimi once. Okay, twice, but the second time wasn't as hard as the first, so Bertha decided not to count it.
    "Oww!" Mimi exclaimed, "I think you need a license to operate those things, B."
    "Sorry, Mimi, I guess I'm still getting used to them."
    "Well, if you'll put me down, you can go off somewhere and practice controlling your tits and I can go back to kicking Patty's ass."
    "Yeah, right, like you were really kicking my ass," Patty said snidely. "Who are you kidding, Mimi? You couldn't even get past my tits to see my ass, let alone kick it."
    "Put me down, B," Mimi said, trying hard to escape from Bertha's grasp. "Put me down."
    "Later for that, Mimi," Bertha said. "There are more important things to deal with."
    "What could be more important than my giving Patty the ass-kicking she so richly deserves?"
    "The S.C., Mimi. The sexual catalyst, remember? Well, I know what it is now."
    "You know what the sexual catalyst is?" Mimi asked. "Well, then why didn't you say so sooner?"
    "I did say so sooner, Mimi, but you and Patty were fighting like two-year olds."
    "For us to be fighting like two-year olds, Bertha, Mimi would have to make some sort of contact with me first," Patty said. "I repeat, she couldn't get past my tits."
    "I can get past your tits, Patty," Bertha said coldly. "Do you want me to make contact with you?"
    "Well, uh, no."
    "Then shut the fuck up, then."
    Patty had something to say in response to Bertha telling her to shut the fuck up. It was on the tip of her tongue. Then Patty gave Bertha's suggestion a little bit more thought. It was a good suggestion to say the least. It was stated in a clear, forceful, and powerful manner...emphasis on forceful and powerful. Moreover, the person stating it, unlike Mimi, could back up any threat she made. Knowing this fact, Patty had only one real option left to her: shutting the fuck up like Bertha told her.
    Bertha waited a moment for Patty to say something. She wanted to see if she was stupid enough to challenge her. Fortunately for Patty's sake, she wasn't that stupid. Bertha would've hurt her bad...and enjoyed doing it.
    "Okay, Mimi, now that Big Mouth is done flapping her gills," Bertha said, knowing she was stooping down to Patty's level. "Let me tell you the sexual catalyst."
    Bertha saw the look on Patty's face when she said her "Big Mouth" comment. Normally, she would have been embarrassed saying something like that. It was so juvenile, totally unlike the genius Bertha knew herself to be. However, today, she didn't feel juvenile or anything negative. She actually felt pretty good. Whether it was because she now sported her dream tits or she was protecting Mimi, Bertha couldn't decide. To be honest, she figured it was neither of those reasons. Instead, she was simply enjoying the joyous feeling of putting Patty in her place. This made sense, since that girl was really pissing her off today.
    "Yeah, tell me what the S.C. is, B, you never know when Big Mouth's gills are going to start up again," Mimi said, getting a little payback of her own at Patty's expense.
    "It's you," Bertha said.
    "It's me, what?" Mimi asked confused.
    "It's you, Mimi. You're the sexual catalyst."
    "What you talkin' about, Willis, uh, I mean Bertha?"
    "You're the sexual catalyst, Mimi or to be more accurate your voice is the sexual catalyst."
    "I don't believe it, B. Everyone says my Valley Girl voice is played out and here it is a sexual catalyst. Who would have thought such a thing? No wonder Moon Unit Zappa had such a big hit with that song. Valley Girl was an aphrodisiac, I knew it..."
    "What are you talking about, Mimi?" Bertha asked.
    "My voice — which some people say sounds like a Valley Girl, although I disagree with those people, of course — being the sexual catalyst. I mean, B, you wouldn't believe the people who said my voice was played out..."
    "Yes, I would believe those people, Mimi. In fact, I happen to be one of them. Your voice is played out."
    "Oh, but it's a sexual catalyst," Mimi said smugly. "So what do you have to say to that."
    "That I wasn't talking about your normal, Valley Girl voice, Mimi. I was talking about your computer/phone sex voice. That's the aphrodisiac."
    "It is?"
    "Yeah, it is."
    Mimi opened her mouth to say something, then stopped. She started thinking about her computer/phone sex voice being a sexual catalyst. She found the inherent implications overwhelming. The idea that a voice she trained with the specific intentions of getting her a job on Star Trek was able to bequeath almost mystical qualities to males...who would have thought such a thing was possible. And for her, little Mimi Chang, to be the possessor of such a gift...it made her feel both incredibly powerful and scared shitless. "What do I do now, B?" she asked.
    "Duh, you go over to Jack and Rod, do your thing, and get your tits. What else would you do, Mimi?"
    That made sense. Bertha usually did make sense; she was rational like that. Mimi would go over to Jack and Rod, do her thing, and get her tits. That was a sensible plan Bertha made. Her plans usually were sensible. Mimi wished she were as sensible and rational as Bertha. If she were, this whole sexual catalyst thing probably wouldn't be overwhelming her. Nothing ever seemed to overwhelm Bertha. Why couldn't Bertha's computer/phone sex voice be the sexual catalyst? Answer: Bertha would never spend the time developing a computer/phone sex voice; she was rational like that, you know.
    Mimi walked over to Jack. She noticed that Rod was semi-erect. He was in the process of going flaccid after a period of being hard. Damn, Mimi thought, if she'd been a little quicker, she wouldn't even have needed the sexual catalyst. Rod would have still been hard.
    "Rod's going limp," she said, summing up the situation as she saw it.
    "So," Bertha said.
    "I was just thinking that if I'd been a little quicker getting over here, I wouldn't even have needed the sexual catalyst. Rod was already hard."
    "Well, just talk to him, Mimi, he'll get hard again."
    "Do you really think so, B?"
    "Of course, I think so. How do you think he got hard in the first place? When you were cussing Patty out in Klingon that's when I noticed Rod getting hard."
    "Then why did you say it was my computer/phone sex voice if me cussing in Klingonese did the trick? My Klingon voice and my computer/phone sex voice are way different, Bertha."
    "No, Mimi, they're not."
    "They're not?"
    "No, they sound 'bout the same," Bertha said. "Your Klingon voice may be louder, speaking unpronounceable gibberish, but to our ears it sounds the same as your other voice."
    "Bertha, if you were any other woman I would kill you," Mimi barked.
    "What'd you say," Bertha said, going instantly on guard.
    "Sorry, B," Mimi said in her normal Valley Girl voice, "but you called the Klingon language unpronounceable gibberish. I couldn't let that remark go unchallenged."
    "You said you would kill me, Mimi."
    "What do you want, B" Mimi shrugged. "It's the Klingon way."
    "Just get your fucking tits," Bertha screamed.
    "Okay, okay, what do I have to do?"
    "Say something — anything — in one of those voices of yours."
    "Anything," Mimi said in her computer voice. She was trying to be funny. She didn't expect anything to happen. Boy, was she surprised.
    If Rod was a sports car he would have went from 0 to 200 miles per hour in one second. With one word, Mimi dispelled any doubts she had about being the sexual catalyst. She was the real deal all right.
    "Holy shit," she exclaimed, "look at what I did."
    The light speed erection of Rod surprised Mimi so much that she still spoke in her computer/phone sex voice. This resulted in Rod — already twelve inches long — getting even longer. His thickness and circulation — judging by how the veins visible on Rod's shaft — also seemed to increase.
    Whereas Rod looked fantastic, Jack appeared to be having problems. The football player looked drained. All his energy and stamina seemed to be flowing into his cock.
    "Mimi, look at Jack," Bertha said. "That boy isn't looking too good."
    Mimi did as Bertha instructed. Damn, she was right: Jack looked horrible. It was as if someone or something drained a great deal of his blood from his body, giving his skin a pale look. He would make a great victim in a vampire movie, Mimi thought, quickly catching herself. It suddenly occurred to her that she was at fault. She, the sexual catalyst, did this to Jack.
    Everything in this world has a price to pay. Everyone knew this. It was a universal law. Was turning Jack into an anemic the price Mimi had to pay for the gift of being a sexual catalyst? If that was the price to pay was Mimi willing to pay it? She didn't know.
    Patty sensed this doubt in Mimi and attempted to capitalize on it. Mimi wasn't going to outgrow her if she had anything to do with it. With the right amount of manipulation, she might forget about having big tits all together.
    "Look what you did to Jack, Mimi," Patty said. "He looks sick. He looks like he might...like he might die."
    Patty was exaggerating. Jack looked weaker than normal, true, but then Jack's normal state was that of a highly conditioned collegiate athlete. To someone who didn't know him very well, Jack just looked like someone who overexerted himself and needed some rest and fluids. Patty knew all of this. Her job, however, was to make sure Mimi didn't realize any of this.
    Patty succeeded. She caused Mimi to fixate on the word "die" and start believing she was actually killing Jack. Backing away from Jack, Mimi cried tears of sorrow. She couldn't be near him any more. Leaving the room was the only option. Her presence was killing Jack. Her voice — the sexual catalyst — wasn't a gift, it was a curse, one that she would never use again.
    Patty watched Mimi head towards the door. Excellent, she thought, one down and one to go. Now how can I rid myself of Bertha and become the owner of the biggest tits on the planet?
    While Patty thought of ways to rid herself of Bertha, she made an initial decision to exclude Bertha's death as an option. She did this for two reasons: First, Patty wasn't a killer and second, Bertha — big tits or not — was still Patty's friend.
    However, who said Patty had to be the one to kill Bertha? She could hire someone to do the dirty work for her. Hell, with her tits — and Bertha's death — she probably wouldn't even have to pay this person. Who would refuse the request of the owner of the biggest tits on the planet? No one Patty knew.
    Moreover, as for Bertha being Patty's friend, so what? Mimi was also a friend of Patty's and look how she treated her. Yeah, in her book, she thought friendship was a bit overrated. Power — the kind of power that came from having the biggest tits on the planet — was what counted. Patty learned that lesson firsthand from Titty and she was no where near the size Patty was now. She wasn't even as big as Blossom and she commanded respect. Imagine what she could do if she possessed the biggest tits on the planet like Patty would. She would be able to do anything, literally everything. The sky was truly the limit.
    "Fuck friendship," Patty murmured. "The 24 hours are over and I've made my decision. I'm giving Bertha and Mimi the boot."
    Bertha and Mimi didn't hear Patty, they were busy with a conversation of their own. A conversation that Patty — had she known about it — would have done everything in her power to prevent. Bertha, seeing how Jack's condition combined with Patty's words upset Mimi, physically restrained her, refusing to let her exit the dorm room. She explained that Jack's condition wasn't fatal, he wasn't, as Patty stated, dying.
    It was a tough sell at first, since Mimi really believed she was killing Jack. Bertha didn't think Patty had it in her, but she really did a number on Mimi. Because of this, Bertha made a mental note not to ever underestimate Patty again.
    Mimi listened while Bertha talked. Using all her powers of persuasion, Bertha tried everything in her oratorical arsenal to make Mimi stay. Ultimately, it was Jack, though, who convinced Mimi to stay.
    Bertha told Mimi for the umpteenth time that Jack's condition wasn't that bad and he wasn't going to die. And for the umpteenth time, Mimi didn't believe her. So, Bertha — to the best of her ability — moved her tits out of the way, picked Mimi up, and took her over to Jack.
    "Look at him," she commanded.
    Mimi looked at him. She could see that already color was coming back to his face. He wasn't 100% of course, but he was definitely not dying. In fact, Jack was trying to talk to her.
    "Ro — Rod wants to know...he wants to know..."
    "What does Rod want to know?" Mimi asked.
    "Jack — jack him...jack him off," Jack forced out. "He wants to know Mi — Mimi...when — when you're going to ja — jack him off and get...and get your tits."
    "Never."
    Mimi's response seemed to renew Jack's strength. He was about 85% now. He said in a loud voice: "What do you mean, never?"
    Jack's response shocked Mimi. She wasn't expecting that. Jack was angry with her for not jacking Rod off. His reaction, to Mimi's way of thinking, should be the exact opposite of that. She almost killed him for Christ's sake. What was wrong with him?
    Jack answered Mimi as if he heard her unvoiced question. "There's nothing wrong with me," he said. "I'm just a little tired, that's all."
    Patty glared at Jack. She didn't appreciate what he was saying at all. Why couldn't he — as she told Mimi — just die or something? Why was he offering Mimi Rod's cum? This wasn't looking good at all.
    "Jack," she said warmly walking in his direction, "I'm so glad that you're feeling..."
    Patty didn't get to finish her statement, nor did she reach Jack. Bertha, intercepting her, put her large arms around Patty and steered her in the opposite direction. She also said to Patty in a low, ominous voice: "Come with me, we need to talk."
    "Uh, what about Jack," Patty said nervously.
    "Mimi's with him and that's all the female attention he's going to need for awhile. Wouldn't you agree?"
    "Uh, yeah, B."
    "That's Bertha to you...Patricia."
    Uh, oh, Bertha only called Patty "Patricia" once — because once was all that was needed — in the years of their friendship. It happened early in their relationship. Patty still lived in Nerd Hall with the two and hadn't yet learned their idiosyncrasies and pet peeves. Her and Mimi were playing a video game between classes. Mimi was winning, as she always did, being the gaming fanatic she was. That's when Bertha barged in, almost taking the door off the hinges.
    Mimi ignored Bertha's dramatic entrance. That should have been a clue for Patty to do the same, but she didn't. She figured Mimi was too engrossed in her game to notice Bertha's entrance. Sure, Bertha hit the front door loud enough to wake a deaf person, but, then, Mimi really loved her games. If anyone could tune Bertha out, it was she.
    "Bad day, Bertha?" Patty asked.
    "I don't want to talk about it, Patty."
    Now if Patty were paying any sort of attention, she would have noticed that Bertha's response to her question — that she didn't want to talk about it — came through angry, gritted teeth. Unfortunately, Patty wasn't that observant back then. She developed her observational skills a little later...like after this particular incident.
    "Oh, come on, Bertha, it can't be all that bad," Patty said.
    "It is that bad," Bertha said, "I got a B on an oral report."
    "A B on an oral report? Is that what's bothering you?"
    "Drop it, Patty," Mimi whispered. She was aware of Bertha; she just didn't want to get involved. She knew an angry Bertha wasn't someone to trifle with. However Patty and that big mouth of hers were putting her in a situation where she would have to play Good Samaritan. Damn.
    Patty didn't hear Mimi. Actually, she did, but she didn't see any reason to "drop it". So, she continued: "You know, Bertha, I'd kill for a B of any kind. That's the problem with you and Mimi, you two are too grade obsessed. You need to learn..."
    "Patricia," Bertha screamed.
    "That's Patty, Bertha, I don't really like to be called Patricia."
    That was it. The next thing Mimi knew Bertha was yelling, running rhino-like in Patty's direction. Mimi, in response, could only do one thing: she paused her video game — she was in the midst of racking up a new high score — and turned in the direction of Bertha and Patty. There was no way she was going to miss this.
    Bertha collided with Patty like a rhino. In fact, to the professional wrestling obsessed Mimi, Bertha hit a move worthy of the Alliance superstar, Rhyno, who routinely speared his opponents. In honor of this accomplishment on Bertha's part there was only one thing Mimi could say: "Gore!"
    "Gore," that was the usual response of one of sports entertainment most infamous commentators, Paul Heyman. He tended to say it whenever Rhyno speared one of his opponents unexpectedly, just like Bertha did Patty. This made Mimi wonder what else Heyman would have to say about the impromptu bout going on between her two roommates.
    Mimi wished Jim "J.R."Ross, Heyman's commentating counterpart, was next to her. She knew how one-sided commentary tended to suck. However, J.R. wasn't next to her, he was probably in Oklahoma watching a Sooners football game or something. So, Mimi did the best she could.
    When Bertha grabbed Patty by the neck and slammed her to the ground she noted what an awesome "neck-breaker" that was. When Patty tried to stand up and, instead, ran into Bertha's massive forearm, knocking herself back on the floor, Mimi said that Patty had just received a "clothesline from hell". When Bertha took their non-wireless phone and wrapped the cord around Patty's neck, she noted — as J.R. would — how that was an illegal use of phone and that Bertha was taking things a little too far. This earned Mimi an ugly look from Bertha. It also caused Mimi to think about the time Stone Cold Steve Austin physically abused J.R. in front of his wife and kids for some of his unfavorable comments. That sort of thing didn't usually happen, but, in that moment, Mimi made a mental decision to comment solely on the technical moves being demonstrated in this match. She would leave her personal thoughts and opinions out of her commentary. It was safer that way. She only wished, so the match wasn't so one-sided, that Patty would land a move or two on Bertha.
    Patty had a wish of her own. It wasn't, unlike Mimi's wish, that she could land a move or two on Bertha — she wasn't that crazy. Without any encouragement on her part, Bertha was already administering a great deal of physical damage to her body. Why up the ante by trying to retaliate? No, Patty only wished one thing: that Bertha would get tired of pummeling her.
    Eventually, Patty got her wish. Bertha calmed down and left her alone. Like the Hulk turning back into Dr Banner, once the rage was gone, Bertha transformed back into her kinder and gentler self. She, also like the fictitious Dr Banner, had no memories of what she did in her more violent state. Patty wasn't going to tell her, even when Bertha asked her what she was doing beat up on the floor. That didn't stop Mimi, though. Nothing ever does.
    Mimi, the bitch, told Bertha a detailed account of everything that happened. Patty watched a frown appear on Bertha's face. A frown that seemed to worsen with every syllable uttered by Mimi. Patty was sure Bertha's Hulk-side would soon be making another unscheduled appearance. She only hoped that when it appeared, it left her alone and went after that bitch, Mimi. That would show her.
    Fortunately (if Patty was the target) and unfortunately (if that bitch, Mimi, was the target), Bertha's Hulk-side didn't return. She stayed her normal, friendly self. She even played nurse for Patty — feeding her, dressing her, and generally assisting her in every way imaginable — during her week-plus of recovery. That was nice...and necessary. Patty's insurance didn't cover beat-downs administered by 6' 4" 300-pounds Hulkettes who lost their minds when they got a B on an oral report.
    That's what happened the last time Bertha called her "Patricia", Patty thought rubbing her neck. A neck that even now — over a year later — still hurt when it rained. Bertha did that and more in a situation in which some people — not Patty, she knew better — might argue that Bertha overreacted. Getting a B on an oral report, yeah, that's a reason to beat up a friend. But what if Bertha had a reason to beat up Patty, a real one; a reason like, say, avenging Mimi. What would she do to Patty then?
    Patty thought about the worst case scenario and gulped. It wasn't a good mental picture. Turning her head towards Bertha — which wasn't easy since she was in a hammerlock — Patty asked a question she really didn't feel like asking. Why did she ask it, then? Because if she didn't ask it now, she might not be around later to ask it. The question: "Are you going to kill me, Bertha?"
    "The thought has occurred to me."
    Patty wet herself.
    "Titty's not going to like that," Bertha said, seeing and smelling the pool of urine formed by Patty.
    "Fu — fuck Titty," Patty managed to get out. "Dead women don't clean dorm rooms."
    "I could give you a slight reprieve, Patty," Bertha said. "You know, spare your life long enough for you to clean up. It might even help you get into heaven with cleanliness being next to Godliness and all."
    Patty seriously thought over what Bertha said. On one hand, she didn't want her last act on Earth to be cleaning — slaving — for Titty. On the other hand, she wanted to get into heaven. Who didn't? But she couldn't help wondering if cleanliness really was next to Godliness. She would hate to clean up Titty's room for nothing.
    Suddenly, Bertha broke out in laughter. "You kill me, Patty," she said.
    "Uh, isn't that the other way around?"
    "I — I'm not going to kill you, Patty," Bertha said, still laughing.
    "That's a relief," Patty sighed. She was going to live. Good. She knew it all the time. Bertha was more bark than bite. She would never kill Patty. It was all a joke. A bad joke, but a joke nevertheless. The idea of Bertha murdering her: what a riot.
    "No, I'm not going to kill you," Bertha said seeing a smile form on Patty's face. "I'm just going to rough you up a little bit." Bertha cracked her knuckles and watched as Patty's smile instantly disappeared. Now that was a riot.
    Meanwhile, Mimi was a step away from getting her dream tits. Actually, she was about fourteen inches — Rod's current length — away from getting her dream tits, but who was measuring?
    "Are you and Rod sure this is okay?" she asked, the idea of Jack's demise still vivid in her mind.
    "Rod would have it no other way, Mimi," Jack said. "Go for it."
    "Okay, Jack," Mimi said in her computer/phone sex voice, putting her tiny hand on Rod's bulbous head, "this one's for Rod."
    That's all it took. Mimi's touch combined with her sexual catalyst of a voice caused Rod to erupt like a volcano. There was only one problem.
    "Aren't you going to take off your top?" Jack asked.
    "Oh, pooh," Mimi said in disgust, "I just made a Weird Science mistake."
    "I beg your pardon."
    "A Weird Science mistake, Jack. You know, when you do everything right but one critical, vital step. Like when Garry and Wyatt tried to make another Lisa and forgot to hook up the doll."
    "Garry and Wyatt? Weird Science?"
    "It's a 1985 movie by John Hughes."
    "I'm afraid I haven't seen it."
    "You got cable, right?"
    "Yeah."
    "Keep it on TNT, Jack. They're always showing that movie — edited, of course. Hell, I bet they're showing it right now. Let's turn on Titty's TV and..."
    Suddenly, the impossible happened. Something was able — to quote one of her wrestling favs, Chris Jericho — shut Mimi the hell up. Her tits were growing...fast.
    Mimi, not realizing the erotic implications of watching a petite woman outgrow her top, started undoing her top. Jack, of course, realizing full well the erotic implications that Mimi didn't, tried stopping her from doing something that her expanding bosom could do a hell of a lot better. Jack's efforts weren't necessary. Weird Science mistake or not, Mimi's tits were growing a lot faster than she could react to.
    Mimi didn't wear a bra. She was too flat-chested for that. She didn't have to watch as her mighty AA-cup bra — providing maximum coverage and then some — become little more than a Band-Aid surrounding her ever-expanding bosom. Nope, Mimi didn't have to concern herself with that little experience. Damn.
    Fortunately — for Jack, at least — there was a top for Mimi to outgrow. It was a nice white one with buttons. Virtually transparent — Mimi didn't fear anyone spying what she didn't have — Jack realized that if he kept his eye on the ball (balls?), uh, Mimi's chest, he wouldn't miss a thing.
    "My tits are growing," Mimi said, stating the obvious.
    After Titty, Blossom, Patty, Bertha, and now Mimi, Jack thought of himself as something of an expert when it came to coming on chicks and making their tits grow. In every case, he noticed, they always said the same thing when their tits started growing. They always stated the obvious. Why? Was it that hard to come up with something original to say about their growing tits? Hell, if his tits started growing, he'd probably kick Titty out of his life for starters. He wouldn't need her, he'd have his own tits to play with. But he was sure, if his tits started growing, he wouldn't just say: "Oh, my tits are growing". He'd say something a little more profound than that and he wasn't even a genius like Mimi was suppose to be.
    "Yeah, Mimi, they sure are getting big." Okay, his response wasn't all that either. It was difficult saying something fresh and exciting to all these chicks growing tits off his cum, Jack thought. He didn't need the pressure of originality. It was a hell of a lot easier for him merely — like the chicks themselves — to state the obvious. But don't get him wrong, though, let him grow some tits of his own and not only would he dump Titty but he'd come up with the most original response heard by man. He guaranteed it.
    "Look at them grow," Mimi exclaimed. "I wonder how big they're going to get."
    "I have a measuring tape." Ooops, he wasn't supposed to say that. Rod constantly warned him about that. Not every well-endowed woman wanted some nut with a measuring tape finding out her measurements. That was Rod's constant refrain to Jack, and every time, he forgot it. Oh well, time for his working construction excuse.
    "Did you say something, Jack?" Mimi asked.
    "Uh, no." Good, he wouldn't have to tell her the only reason why he carried around a measuring tape was because he was working at a construction site. Jack hated lying unnecessarily. It was so much easier for him — and his brain — just to tell the truth. Besides, the buttons on Mimi's shirt were popping off. Who wanted to talk about a measuring tape when that was going on?

Mimi's shirt was now taut. Her newly grown mounds pushing forcefully on the too-small clothing. Her buttons, forced into a tug-of-war battle of shirt and tit, did their best to maintain Mimi's modesty. But it was an effort in futility.
    Jack watched and dodged the buttons flying machinegun-like in his direction. "It's Tit-time," he exclaimed.
    Mimi looked down at her exposed chest. She saw the tattered remains of her obliterated shirt...barely. Tit-flesh dominated her vision now. Everywhere she looked, she saw tits, her tits. On her petite frame, they were larger than life; bigger than any pair she ever imagined having.
    They weren't as big as Bertha's tits. Nothing was that big. And, unfortunately, they weren't as big as Patty's. She really wanted to put that bitch in her place. Of course, being the sexual catalyst and all, there was nothing that said Mimi couldn't further — sometime in the near future — augment her newly augmented pair of tits. No, nothing could stop Mimi from going bigger if she wanted. But why rush it? There were worse things in the world than being number three in the Biggest Tits on the Planet contest.
    Patty suddenly screamed in pain.
    "Take that, for instance," Mimi said. "Getting your ass whipped by Bertha is a lot worse than being number three in the Biggest Tits on the Planet contest."
    "Well, you're number one in my book," Jack said.
    Mimi heard Jack's comment and started laughing her ass off.
    "Wha — what's so funny," Jack said, getting upset. He didn't like people laughing at him, especially when he didn't get the joke. He often didn't get the joke, but this time no one told a joke. He — to the best of his ability — replayed what he and Mimi recently said. Nope, no one told a joke, he was sure of it. "What's so damn funny, Mimi?" The word, "damn" would let her know he was serious.
    "You are," Mimi squeaked, still laughing.
    "I didn't tell a damn joke."
    "Oh, yes you did, Jack. That "number one in my book" line of yours. It was the cheesiest thing my lacto-intolerant ears have heard in awhile."
    "Ro — Rod told me to say that."
    "He did?" Finding out Rod — Jack's monster-sized dick — told him to say that line took Mimi aback. On one hand, she had some dick-cheese comments to make (you know, playing on the fact that Jack's dick made a cheesy comment). But the thought of dick-cheese grossed even her out. So she focused on her other hand, the one that had recently touched Rod's massive shaft. That hand told her to give Rod her undivided attention, which she did.
    "Rod told me that saying that line would make you happy, Mimi."
    "That's nice, Jack, but why does Rod want to make me happy. I mean, he's already with your help given me the third largest tits on the planet. If that doesn't make me happy, believe me, nothing else will."
    "He — he wants..."
    "Spit it out, Jack."
    "He wants to jug-fuck those tits of yours."
    She told Jack to spit it out and he did. She wasn't expecting him to say that. Of course, now that he said it, now that he put it out there, she had something to think about...seriously.
    Mimi thought about Jack's — or was it Rod's — request for a fraction of a second. Being a genius and all, she didn't need any more time than that. Looking Jack in the eye, she gave her answer: "Fuck, yeah, you can jug-fuck these tits of mine."
    Getting the go-ahead, Jack, with Rod literally pointing the way, charged towards Mimi. He didn't make contact with her, though.
    At the exact moment Jack took his first step towards Mimi, the front door of Titty's abode slammed open.
    "I'm home," Titty announced. "Flatty are you..."
    Titty concluded that her eyes were playing tricks on her. They had to be. Somehow, they were showing her a mixture of the real and the fantasy. And that wasn't right.
    The real was Jack and his massive flesh rod. That was a sight, both familiar and common. And even though Jack wasn't really scheduled to be in her home, she somewhat expected him to be. Thus, she had no doubts — none whatsoever — that she was really seeing Jack.
    But she was also seeing something that couldn't possibly exist. For starters, there were the tits. Those fuckers were bigger than Blossom's. That was impossible. No one could be that big. Especially — and she knew she was dreaming this — some short, Oriental girl who looked like she escaped from Nerd Hall. Everyone knew Oriental girls were flat- chested, right? That was a fact, not a stereotype. And when that girl lived in Nerd Hall...well, it was a double fact. Girls — dream or not — who had tits like this one would never be placed in Nerd Hall in the first place.
    "Hi, Titty," Jack said.
    "Hi, Jack," she responded.
    "That's Titty," the figment of Titty's imagination said, "I thought her tits would be bigger."
    Titty didn't like people criticizing her tits. It only happened once before, when that bitch Blossom outgrew her, but once was enough. She certainly didn't want nor need some mammary mirage getting in on that particular band wagon.
    "You don't exist," she said.
    "Yes, I do," Mimi said.
    "No, you don't."
    "Yes, I do."
    Jack watched this back-and-forth verbal volleying between Titty and Mimi as if he were watching a tennis game. "Maybe they'll start catfighting," he said to Rod, still hoping for a little lesbian sex action.
    It looked for a moment like he might get his wish. Profanity had entered the verbal volleying. Instead of addressing the existence of Mimi's existence, the conversation shifted to the use of the F-word.
    "Fuck you," Titty screamed.
    "No, fuck you," Mimi screamed back.
    "Cool," was Jack's response. He knew once the profanity started, it usually didn't take that long for the hair-pulling and scratching to make their appearances.
    He was disappointed, however, when instead of hair-pulling and scratching, Bertha and Patty were the ones to make an appearance.
    Not at first, though. Initially, he thought — maybe, even prayed — Mimi's friends would take her side and stomp Titty into a bulbous pulp. That would've been cool; watching eight of the largest tits in the known universe bumping and bouncing each other. Unfortunately, it didn't happen.
    It was Bertha's fault. She and a battered-looking Patty came from one of the side rooms and saw Mimi and Titty yelling at each other. "What the hell is going on?" she yelled at them.
    "B, this is Titty. She said I didn't exist. I told her I did exist. She said I didn't exist. I told her I did exist. She said I..."
    "I got it, Mimi," Bertha said, cutting Mimi off. Then turning to the woman who questioned the existence of one of her best friends, she said: "So you're Titty, eh?"
    Titty blinked her eyes. What was going on? Did her delusions double? If she didn't believe this Oriental — Mimi — didn't exist, then she certainly wasn't going to believe in the existence of some black WNBA-wannabe who had to have the biggest tits on the planet. "You don't exist," she said.
    "See what I told you, B," Mimi said, "Now she's saying you don't exist either."
    "I do too exist," Bertha said.
    "No, you don't," Titty said.
    "Yes, I do."
    Jack sighed. Why do chicks spend so much time talking when they could — as a prelude to lesbian sex — pull hair and scratch faces? It was a good question. One Rod wanted an answer to as well, along with this one: Was it this hard to get some lesbian sex action started?
    Then Titty saw Patty. Not the Flatty Patty she loved to torture and belittle, but a new one. This Flatty Patty, for starters, looked more like Patty Plenty. She had the face of Flatty — although there were bruises on it — but that body...
    "Patty, where did you get those tits?" Titty screamed.
    "Hi, Titty," Patty said, then fell to the ground...unconscious.
    "What did you do to her, B?" Mimi asked.
    "We had a little talk."
    Both Mimi and Titty looked down at Patty lying on her back. Her tits blocked most of their view. They then looked at Bertha, who wore a forced look of innocence on her face. They looked back at Patty, then back to Bertha.
    "That must have been one hell of a talk," Mimi said.
    Bertha shrugged. "If you want, Mimi, I can give you a transcription of it."
    Mimi, taking yet another look at Patty, said: "That's all right, B, I'll pass."
    "How about you, Titty?" Bertha asked. "Do you want me to talk to you like I did Patty?"
    "You don't exist, and neither does she."
    Bertha decided to put an end to this line of Titty's thinking. Walking majestically, because (a) it was the only way to walk with tits like hers without falling down and (b) because it made for a grand and dramatic presentation, Bertha approached Titty. She signaled Mimi to get out of her way when she was close enough. Then Bertha turned towards Titty, did a quick calculation, and bumped the bitch with her tits.
    "Ow," Titty screamed.
    "Are those real enough for you, Titty?"
    "Yes, Titty said, rubbing where it was sore, "I guess."
    "You guess? What, you don't know? Guess I'll have to bump you again."
    "No, don't do that. I believe you exist, all right. I believe your tits are real. I believe, okay."
    "What about me, B?" Mimi asked. "Maybe, I should give her a bump or two, so she'll believe I exist as well."
    "No, that's not necessary," Titty said hurriedly. "I believe in you, too."
    "Damn," Mimi said, "And I was really looking forward to bumping you with my tits, too, Titty."
    "Later for that," Bertha said. "We have to figure out what we're going to do with Mistress Titty here."
    "What do you mean 'do with Mistress Titty here'?" Titty asked. "I haven't done anything to you two. Hell, I don't even know you two."
    "It's not what you did to us, Titty," Bertha said, "It's what you did to our friend, Patty."
    "Patty? The same friend who's lying unconscious on the floor?"
    A painful groan came from Patty.
    "Uh, yeah," an embarrassed Bertha said.
    "Is that your plan: to treat me like your friend, Patty?"
    "That's it, that's it, that's it!" Jack suddenly screamed.
    Titty, Bertha, and Mimi turned to look at him. Patty merely groaned.
    "What's your problem?" Bertha asked.
    "You, her, and Titty," he said pointing. "All you do is talk."
    "And...?"
    "You're three..."
    Patty groaned.
    "You're four hot women with probably the biggest tits on the planet..."Jack began.
    "You really think I'm — we're hot," Mimi said.
    "Of course, you're hot. But you, Bertha, and unconscious Patty over there don't work it enough."
    "Work it enough, Jack?" Bertha asked.
    "Yeah, what's the use of having big tits if you don't do anything with them. You two haven't even sucked your nipples yet."
    "Like this," Bertha said, grabbing a tit — it was incredibly heavy — with both hands. Lifting it, trying her best to corral the shifting tit-flesh, she was able to force the nipple in her mouth and start sucking. She repeated the words "like this" again, but it came out a garbled mess.
    "First, don't talk with your mouth full," Jack said. "But yeah, Bertha, that's working it."
    "How else can we work it, Jack?" Mimi asked.
    "Well, you can jug-fuck Rod like you were going to before Titty stormed in."
    "Stormed in," Titty exclaimed. "Do I have to remind you whose house this is?"
    "It's yours and Patty's, Titty. We know that already," Mimi said.
    "Patty's? This wasn't her house. We weren't roommates. She was help, my personal slave."
    "But that was before her tits outgrew yours," Mimi said. "Ain't that right, Patty?"
    Patty squeaked in the affirmative.
    This Mimi had a point, Titty thought. Not only were Patty's tits bigger than hers were, but so were Bertha's and Mimi's. She had gone from the number two position — behind that bitch, Blossom — to what, position number five. And Jack was about to jug-fuck the number three position, Mimi. That was not acceptable. Where would it end; certainly not at position number five.
    "I forbid you to jug-fuck her, Jack!" Titty screamed.
    "Oh, you do, eh?" Bertha said cracking her knuckles. She sucked one nipple and was about to start sucking on the other, when she heard Titty's comment. "Are you sure about that, Titty. Really sure?"
    "Uh, I mean...I mean he shouldn't jug-fuck without proper lubrication. I got some baby oil that he should be using. Let me go get it."
    Bertha watched Titty run into the bathroom. Seeing that Mimi would get her promised jug-fuck, without Titty's interference, she went back to sucking her second nipple. It felt so damn good. "Big tits rule," she said, but since her nipple was in her mouth, all that came out was indecipherable gobbledygook.
    Jack sighed. Bertha really needed to break that habit of talking with her mouth full. Biggest tits on the planet or not, one really shouldn't forget their manners.
    Titty returned with the oil. "Here," she said, tossing the plastic bottle to Mimi.
    Mimi not expecting Titty to toss her the bottle and, due to her tits, not being able to move quick enough to catch it if she did, whined to Bertha: "B, did you see what she just did? She threw that bottle of oil at me."
    Titty looked over at Bertha. Although acres of tit-flesh covered her face — which would make it impossible for her to see anything — Titty knew she would believe anything that Mimi said. That Mimi was speaking the truth was beside the point. Titty saw Bertha's tit-flesh receding from her face. She was ejecting her nipple. If that happened, there was no telling what she would do to Titty. "I got it, Bertha, I got it. The oil bottle slipped out of my hand. It was an accident. I'll oil up Mimi personally. You don't have to stop your nipple-sucking on my account. Keep on enjoying yourself."
    Bertha did. Mimi's situation was being taken care of, so why should she stop her nipple-sucking.
    Titty oiled up her hands. Approaching Mimi, excess droplets falling on the floor's carpet — droplets that Patty, when she was flat, would have to steam out — Titty asked: "Do you mind?"
    "Go for it," Mimi said.
    Titty did. Her hands were everywhere. Inside Mimi's cleavage — where Rod was sure to go, and outside, in places, that Rod would probably never go. Titty's touch was soft and sensual, her caresses deep and penetrating. She had already caused Mimi's nipples to erect to a length bigger than what she once called tits could ever hope to reach.
    "More," Mimi moaned, unconsciously slipping into her computer/phone sex voice.
    Titty obliged.
    Jack and Rod just looked. This was their dream come true: lesbian sex action. The proper things to do now were sit back and watch the show...and periodically stroke Rod. This is what happened.
    Titty was really getting into it: pleasuring the tits of another female. It was a totally new experience for her. Sure, she was used to guys pleasuring her tits. That was common beyond common. But since there were so few women who had tits as large as hers, besides Blossom, of course, she never had a chance to be on the other side of the fence. Titty wanted to be on the other side of the fence. She used to — once she got over Blossom outgrowing her — dream of playing with her former slave's tits. But, it never happened. Which soured her on the whole idea. Who knows if she and Blossom did it, then she might have been more forthcoming with the Formula and did it with Patty.
But that didn't matter now. She was doing it with Mimi now and the Oriental with the third largest tits on the planet seemed to be loving it.
    Jack and Rod loved it as well. They loved it so much that Jack increased the speed of his strokes. Faster and faster, he went, until Rod couldn't take any more. Rod loosed a glob of cum that landed on Mimi's right tit.
    Titty saw the glob and rubbed it in Mimi's tit-flesh. Of course, she thought that the Formula might make Mimi's tits grow some more, but so what? What would an extra inch or two mean to the third largest pair of tits on the planet? Answer: nothing. Besides, she was out of oil.
    Titty watched Mimi's tits grow. This surprised her. As big as Mimi's tits were, an inch or two of tit-growth shouldn't have been noticeable, but it was.
    "Mimi, your tits are growing," Titty said.
    "Are they?"
    Before Titty could respond, she watched as Mimi's tits surpassed the expected inch or two of growth. Instead of a couple of inches of growth, Mimi was on her way to a couple of feet. Titty had never seen this much growth happen at one time, even when she used an entire Tupperware container of Formula. Moreover, the growth — Mimi's growth — was caused by a single glob of cum. That shouldn't have been possible.
    "What the hell's going on?" Titty asked.
    "My tits are growing, remember? It's only been, I don't know, one second since you told me, duh."
    "But they're growing so fast. That's not possible."
    "Oh, that," Mimi said dismissing Titty's comment. "I'm a sexual catalyst."
    "A sexual catalyst? What's that?"
    "I'll explain it to you...later, okay?"
    "Uh, sure," Titty said. She didn't know what was going on. Sexual catalyst; what the hell is that? How can one glob of cum outdo a whole Tupperware container full of the stuff? Nothing was making sense.
    Mimi's growth eventually stopped. Using her hands, limited amount of vision, and genius for mathematics, Mimi tried calculating just how big she was now. Well, for starters, she was still smaller than Bertha, a great deal smaller. But Patty? Mimi thought she just might have overtaken her. It would be a close call — no more than a few inches difference — but she might actually be bigger than Patty. Wow, from third to second with a single glob of cum, this sexual catalyst stuff was awesome.
    "If you're through growing, Mimi, we're going home," she heard Bertha say.
    Bertha was standing next to the front door, her hand on the doorknob. Beside her, swaying drunk-like, was a disoriented Patty.
    "Yeah, I guess we have overstayed our welcome a bit," Mimi said, walking towards her friends. "See you later, Titty."
    Titty, still stunned by the amount of Mimi's recent growth experience, could only wave her hand. Speech, presently, was beyond her.
    Speech was beyond Jack's ability, though. He ran, Rod bouncing up and down, towards Mimi and said: "You ladies aren't really leaving are you?"
    "Yeah, Jack, it's been a long night," Mimi said. "But we'll see you later. I mean, c'mon, you're the one responsible for our tits growing. You definitely da man in our book. Am I lying, B and P?"
    Bertha said: "No girl, you ain't lying". Patty, trying to use the wall to hold herself up, missed and fell on the floor. But Mimi and Bertha took that for a "No, Mimi, you're not lying".
    "I'm da man, right?" Jack asked.
    "Yeah, I said that. I did the whole 'am I lying' bit and everything."
    "Well, as da man, I think I should be rewarded."
    "Look, Jack, I'll jug-fuck you tomorrow. I'm sure Bertha and Patty will jug-fuck you, too. But it's late, we're kinda tired, okay."
    "No, no, no, I don't want to jug-fuck you, that's Rod's request."
    "Well, look, we don't have any money."
    "I don't want your money, Mimi."
    "Well, what do you want?"
    "This," Jack said, withdrawing his measuring tape. It was a construction worker model with the metallic dispenser. Jack dramatically sent over ten-feet of measuring tape flying across the room.
    "Wow, Jack, it's so long," Titty said, snapping out of her mental fog.
    "Uh, what's up with the measuring tape?" Mimi asked him.
    "He wants to find out your measurements, Mimi," Titty supplied. "Yours, Bertha's and Patty's."
    "He does, eh? Why?"
    "It's an experience, Mimi, letting Jack measure you. He is so experienced. His hands, the tape...wow!"
    Mimi ignored Titty; what a flake? She was actually getting off on the idea of Jack taking a measuring tape — a cold, metallic one at that — and measuring her tits. That was some crazy-sounding shit. What kind of weirdo got off on learning a bust measurement? Answer: No one she wanted to be around. Maybe, Jack wasn't da man.
    Looking Jack in the eye, Mimi asked: "Are you a licensed bra-maker or something?"
    "Well, uh, no."
    "Then why do you want to know our measurements?"
    "Well, uh, I like the numbers. The bigger they are, the more turn on I seem..."
    "Well, I don't want you learning my numbers."
    "You don't."
    "No, that's info only my personal bra-maker — if such a person exists — will know," Mimi said. "Besides your ten-foot measuring tape is too small for Bertha, Patty, and myself."
    "It's twelve feet, Mimi."
    "Doesn't matter, it's still too small."
    "It's not too small for me," Titty said.
    "Good," Bertha said, "then he can measure you. We're out of here."
    "You don't want me measuring you, Bertha."
    "Hell no," Bertha exclaimed. "I'm with Mimi on that one. In fact, the more I think about it, I'm not sure I want you even around me."
    "Why not?"
    "You number freaks — be it computer or brassieres — freak me out."
    "Let's go, guys," Mimi said, watching Bertha — with some effort due to her tits — assist Patty off the floor.
    Jack watched as the six largest breasts on the planet — breasts that he wasn't able to measure — walked out of Titty's dorm.
    "You three are topless," he screamed. "Do you want me to make shirts or something for you."
    "It won't be necessary, Jack," Bertha said. "Topless titties of mammoth proportions are going to be a common site on this campus."
    "What?"
    "We're going to change Nerd Hall," Bertha said.
    "Yeah, when I, the sexual catalyst get through," Mimi added. "Nerd Hall is going to be called Hooter Hall."
    Laughter followed Mimi's comment. Then they were gone.
    "You can measure my tits,"Titty said.
    "Why would I want to do that. I already know you're a 36-Z."
    "But I might've done some growing."
    "Yeah, right," Jack said, putting on his clothes and heading for the exit. "I'm sure Bertha, Mimi, Patty and Blossom are worried, number five."
    Ow, that hurt. "Where are you going, Jack?"
    "To Nerd Hall, where else."
    Well, that was it. She lost Jack. She lost Flatty Patty. Worse of all, she lost her place as the second largest pair of tits behind Blossom. She lost everything. There was only one thing left for her to do now:
    Go to Nerd Hall.
    "Wait for me, Jack," she yelled, "One of them may want a slave or something."
    Hey, if you can't beat them, join them.

The End