DR. HOOTERS - Part X by Servax Bigger and Better Things Blair and Amanda's mother was astounded at her daughters' new growth. Blair was poking out all over from under her shirt, and slender Amanda looked like two melons glued on a broomstick. Mary laughed and embraced them both. "My little booby-girls!", she laughed, secretly delighted at her girls' development. "You've passed your poor old mom behind! Well, we'll just have to buy new bras to cart around those big new tits of yours, won't we?" She called in to work, and took Blair and Amanda to the doctor. The doctor examined them both thoroughly, then spoke quietly to Mary. "There's nothing medically wrong with them", the doctor said. "It's unusual for breast growth to be this exuberant, but girls who develop early, like Blair and especially Amanda, tend to be somewhat larger anyway." She wrote the girls a sick pass for the day. "Take good care of them, they'll need it", she warned Mary. Next stop was the Hialeah Wal-Mart. Mary found that, unfortu- nately, larger breasts meant larger clothes, as both Blair and Amanda were literally busting out of their old clothes. Bras were first, and Mary found that Blair was now a very voluptuous 36-DD, and little Amanda was too large for a 32-D, but was just a hair under a 34-D. They hunted and hunted, and finally, with the help of one of the salespeople, found a couple of 32-DDs, which fit Amanda's new breasts perfectly. "Odd", said the saleslady, "usually girls that small don't have figures that well-developed." "*** I *** do", gloated Amanda, cupping her hands under her gen- erous new breasts. They passed the cosmetic counter, where Blair and Amanda assault- ed their mother for lipstick, blush, eyeliner, and all the rest of the feminine armory. Mary gave in. "If you two're gonna be such big girls, you might as well look the part", she sighed. Mary bought each of them four or five new blouses, and Blair and Amanda stayed awake most of the night, while their mother worked, trying on their new outfits, and making up their faces. Blair found she had a natural flair for applying makeup, and spent an hour fixing Amanda up until the dark-haired little beauty just glowed. Then she made her own face up. There wasn't anything funny about the way they looked when they saw themselves in the mirror. Blair was wearing her new tennis outfit, a light beige top buttoned down the front, with small green stripes. Her big new breasts peeked out of the neckline, even though she was buttoned up as far as the blouse would but- ton. Amanda was wearing a jeans skirt, sandals and a red stretch top. The outline of her enlarged nipples were clearly traced in the fabric of the blouse. "God, Blair", stammered Amanda, "we look so, so old." Blair nodded her head. The head that nodded back at her in the mirror was not a ten-year-old head. Blair added some brown eye- shadow to her sister's eyes. Amanda looked nothing like an eight-year-old girl anymore. "We look like grown-up women, Amanda", said Blair soberly. "Not old, just grown-up." "I'm scared", whimpered Amanda. "Now everyone's gonna treat me like a big, grown-up lady, and I don't know if I know how to act!" Blair embraced her sister. "Don't cry, Mandy, you'll, you'll ru- in your makeup!" They both laughed heartily, little girls again, even if for the last time. They fell asleep in each other's arms. ************************************** School was a challenge. If Blair felt out of place before, she felt like a freak now. Her large, aggressive-looking tits in- timidated all her old friends. She was much larger now than even the most advanced girls in the sixth grade, and she was universally resented. What made her life bearable was that she was also universally feared. After a couple of days, some of her old friends started to approach her again, but Blair let them know she was in charge. Amanda coped. She found her best defense was a good offense. When the girls teased her, she merely thrust her large breasts out more prominently, as if to say, 'you're not even in my league, no-tits, so get out of my face.' The boys left her alone at first, until one day, sweaty little Ricky Jackson, a third- grader, came to her with a proposition. "I'll give you five dollars if I can see your big tits!", Ricky bargained. Amanda at five-two was still a good six or seven inches taller than he was. She glared at him over the tops of her big boobs. "Ten dollars, and its a deal", she snapped back. Ricky thought for a moment. "Six dollars, and I'll let you bor- row Street Fighter 3 for a week", he countered. Amanda didn't own a Super Nintendo. "Ten dollars", she said, standing firm. "Uh, I'll be back", replied Ricky. A couple of minutes later, he put a five and five ones into her hands. She took him back be- hind the cafeteria, and unbuttoned her blouse. She stood there in her big bra. "Take off the bra, Amanda", Ricky demanded. "I paid to see your tits, not your bra." Amanda glared at him with a cool eye. "Are you sure you're ready for this, little boy?" She began undoing her brassiere. Ricky choked. Amanda's large, dark breasts with their wine- coloured areolae emerged from the confines of her enormous bra. They were beautiful. He had seen other bare breasts in his father's magazines, but Amanda was bigger and more beautiful than all of them. He stood slack-jawed as Amanda buttoned her- self back up. "Was it worth it?", she asked. Ricky slowly nodded his head. "Thanks", he murmured. After that, Amanda always seemed to have plenty of money. ************************* One day, an amazing thing happened that gave Blair cause to think. She was standing in line in the cafeteria, and three or four boys from the sixth grade were waiting in line behind her. They were pointing at her breasts and snickering. Blair looked down at them with almost infinite disdain. It was incredible. She was two years younger than they, yet she towered over them by eight or nine inches. She was beginning to find them entirely juvenile. The boldest of them, a strapping blonde boy of twelve, began to berate her. He puffed his chest out and pulled his neck back like a little fighting rooster. He was a little taller than the other boys, so his eyes were just about level with Blair's tits. "You little overgrown fourth-grade bitch! You think you're better than everyone else, 'cause you got big tits now. I'll kick your ass, then I'll fuck you." "With whose dick?", replied Blair, turning away from him in dis- gust. The other boys guffawed. "She got you, Kevin ", they snick- ered. Kevin hung his head in shame and anger. Then he reached a hand out. Blair felt his hand clamp down on her left breast. "God *damn* she's got big 'uns", Kevin exclaimed. Then Blair reached over with her right hand, grabbed Kevin's wrist, and tossed him into the tables, about three feet. The other boys ran for their lives. One day, late in the school year, while she was trying to concen- trate on some bullshit of Ms. Harrison's about complex fractions, she began to see the classroom fade before her, and sort of move back into the distance. Then she saw Ms. Suarez, Amanda's teach- er, drawing a figure on the blackboard. She saw all of Amanda's sweaty little classmates, holding their big pencils and feverish- ly writing. Then she saw the tips of Amanda's dark brown hair, and her jutting breasts on her slender rib cage, and she gasped, and immediately her own classmates and her own teacher swirled back into view. She asked Amanda about it that night at home. Amanda said she didn't know anything about it, but she verified the little de- tails that Blair supplied, Who was wearing what, who was doing what. "It was like, like I was in your body, Mandy, looking out through your eyes.", Blair said. Amanda just shrugged her narrow, shapely shoulders and said noth- ing. Amanda had also taken to reading, no, devouring romance novels on the balcony. It was well into springtime now, and the sun was hot. Amanda and Blair had both bought skimpy little bikinis that displayed their new figures in flattering ways. Blair would watch as her sister would sit out on the balcony for hours turn- ing pages on a stack of romance books, letting the sun toast her lithe body to a deep coconut brown. "You read those things awful fast, Mandy.", observed Blair one day. "About one or two a day, Blair. Schoolwork just doesn't seem to take as much time as it used to." "You never seemed to be much for reading, Mandy, You used to watch more TV." Blair stared at the cover of the book propped open between her sister's nut- brown breasts. It depicted a black haired woman crushing a half-naked man's head into her abundant bosom. The woman looked like a lady, or a noblewoman from a long time ago. The man looked like a pirate. He was holding a long sword in the hand he wasn't using to embrace the woman's waist. "Looks like pretty hot stuff." "Reading's easy once you get the hang of it.", replied Amanda in- dolently. "TV is pretty boring." She traced a slender finger along the inside of her brown thigh, to the border of the bikini bottom. "These books make me feel all loose and tingly down here." Blair knew about that loose and tingly feeling. She had been starting to feel that way herself, mostly when she saw some of the boys from McArthur High in track or football practice in the field adjacent to her school. She and some of the other, more developed girls in the fifth and sixth grades hung out by the fence during recess, and watched the boys do their Phys. Ed. class. Once in a while, one of the boys would glance over to them and wave, or smile. This made Blair quiver all the way down to the center of that secret little place between her legs. After school, Amanda would join them, and the group of them would stand and watch the track team run wind-sprints. Blair noticed a tall, dark Cuban boy watching them intently. After practice, the large-breasted girl named Mary Lou Rodriguez came and sat down with him. He kissed her on the cheek, then he pointed in Blair and Amanda's direction. "Why do you suppose he pointed at us", Blair wondered aloud. "He wants to meet you", laughed Candy Suarez, who was standing with them. "I want to meet him", chimed in Amanda. "I think he's cute!" The other girls laughed. "You can't even see him good from here", Blair mocked. "He looks like a Cuban blur". "** I ** think he's cute", Amanda continued, "and he's gonna be my boyfriend. So there!" ******************************* A week or so before the end of the school year, Blair and Amanda were skipping school, and hanging out at Candy Suarez' house. Candy stood up and said, "I want a bottle!" "A bottle of what?", asked Amanda. "A bottle of liquor, silly", replied Candy. "Haven't you ever drank any liquor?" Blair and Amanda both shook their heads, feeling for the first time in quite a while somewhat young. Their alcoholic grand- mother made them kind of contemptuous of drinkers, but they didn't want to seem unsophisticated to Candy, who was in the sixth grade, and whose family had a lot of money. Candy was delighted. Amanda and Blair, with their big tits and grown-up looks, usually made her feel small and little-girly. Now, the table had turned. "I get drunk a couple of times a week, sometimes", she lied. "Can you sneak a bottle from your mom, Candy", Blair asked. "Naah", replied Candy. "She marks her bottles now since she caught me a while ago." There were a couple of other sixth-grade girls there too, Joanne Rubio and Lourdes Gonzalez, both of whom thought it would be a great idea to get a bottle and get drunk. "I got four dollars", Lourdes exclaimed, throwing it into the center of the circle. The other girls followed suit, and soon they had more than twenty dollars in small bills and change. Candy explained that there was usually a homeless woman outside the liquor store who, for an extra five dollars, would buy them whatever they wanted. They trooped down to the store, but couldn't find the woman. "I bet she got herself arrested again", snorted Candy. "What we gonna do?", asked Lourdes. "Blair can buy it for us!!!", shouted Joanne. "She looks twenty- one easy, with those big tits of hers!" The other girls got excited about the plan. They returned to Candy's house, and there they rummaged through Candy's mother's clothes looking for something Blair could wear into the liquor store. Most of the stuff in the closet was way too tight across the chest. Candy's mother was not a busty woman. Still, they found a business suit that Blair could wear over her own blouse. The bottom fit well, and Blair put on a pair of panty-hose and a pair of five-inch heels. She draped a string of imitation pearls around her neck, and applied Candy's mother's makeup until all traces of the busty little girl who had left for school that morning had vanished. Blair stepped back to admire her handi- work. "Damn! I'd kill for those tits!", hissed Lourdes, a variation on a theme Blair had heard hundreds of times in the past week. She threw her shoulders back and sauntered out the door. "You'd better let me go alone", said Blair. "It'll look better." By the time she navigated the four or so blocks to the liquor store, she had mastered the high heels. She strutted into the liquor store. The clerk looked up, saw her chest, and nothing else registered. She walked up to the counter and pulled the money from Candy's mother's borrowed purse. "Give me a bottle of Bacardi Light", she stammered, repeating what Candy had told her. The clerk removed the bottle from the shelf, bagged it and put it on the counter. "That'll be $13.48", he said. "Do you have any I.D.?", he added. Blair's mind raced. Then instinctively she thrust her large breasts out into the clerk's face. "Thank you so much, boy", she laughed. "I haven't been asked that in years!" Blair waved her tits back and forth in front of the clerk's face. Seeing that he followed their motion with his head, Blair put the money down on the counter and picked up the bottle. "What a joker!", she laughed, "As if I could grow these in less than twenty-one years!" The clerk just watched as she walked through the door. When she got outside, she realized she had done it, and ran nervously but triumphantly, in the high heels, back to Candy's house. The girls mixed the rum with Coca-Cola and 7-up. Candy, Lourdes, and Joanne got roaring drunk, but Amanda and Blair, although they drank just as much of the fiery liquor as their friends, didn't feel any effect whatsoever. Lourdes came close to the reason. "Those damn big tits of yours, Blair", she said belligerently, "they're soaking up all the liquor! I bet you couldn't get drunk if you tried." Blair and Amanda left as one by one their friends slipped into incoher- ence, then sleep. *******************************