Dr Hooters - Pt. XLVI by the Road Dog SURPRISES AND ARRIVALS The big day finally arrived. To Mrs. Mallory's credit, she had all her girls scrubbed, packed, brushed, pinned, and ready to go when the company minibus turned up at the door. Katie had phoned to say she would be meeting them at he airport, and there was quite a sizeable crowd of village youth waiting outside to see them off. Hugging each one in turn, Mr and Mrs Mallory fought back the tears. "Don't worry, Mum", Penny consoled her. "Its only for a month, and Katie'll take good care of us!" Sukie, her huge creamy-white breasts poking up through the neck- line of a blue shift, in white knee-length stockings, looked like a pedophile's wet-dream. At least she'll leave the country look- ing respectable, her mother thought. Heaven knows what she'll be wearing in Florida. She didn't want to admit it, but Sukie had a knack for looking slatternly no matter what she was wearing. "Here's the bus! Here's the bus!", shouted Tricia from the win- dow, her oversized breasts surging and heaving underneath her white blouse, despite Joan Shaw's custom-fitted undergarments. Each girl grabbed a bag, and Mr and Mrs Mallory opened the door. Within seconds, they were innundated with volunteers for the rest of the baggage, as the local lads fought for the honour of carry- ing the sisters' bags and duffles. When all the gear was set- tled, good-byes were made all around. "Liam, look after yourself, yeah?" "That's a good Danny! We'll miss you!" "Colin! Now don't let that awful Belinda run your life any more. You deserve better than that little slag!" "See ya later, Brian. Drop you a postcard from Disney World, OK?" "Thanks for the hand, Jerry. Watch what you get up to while we're away, right?" "Off to Newquay for the summer, are you then, Garry?" Tricia found Martin off to the side, away from the other boys, with his hands in his pockets. She ran up to him, and, looking around to see if anyone was watching, gave him a quick kiss on the lips. "You be good, Martin, okay?" "Oi'll try, Trish. It'll be right boring around here with you and your sisters gone, though." "We'll be back." "Yeah. Right." Our big little girls, thought Mrs. Mallory as the minibus drove off in the direction of London and Heathrow. They certainly were popular with the kids in the village. Big breasts alone couldn't account for that, not by themselves. No, there had to be some- thing more. She turned to her husband. "You know, love. I can't help but feel we've done a pretty good job with those girls." Mr Mallory put his arm around his wife's shoulder. "We'll have a month to ourselves. Want to try for a repeat performance?" The calm and tranquility of the English countryside gave way gradually to the hustle and noise of the suburbs, as the minibus pulled in to Heathrow Airport, and deposited the sisters and their baggage at the British Airways terminal. True to her word, Katie was waiting for them, bright, blonde, and busty in a cream colored outfit designed and executed by Ms. Joan Shaw, Ketters- ley. The Tropicalia agents met them as well. Poor bloody bastards. They **had** hoped for some fresh-faced English girls for their upcoming promotion on the virtues of orange juice. Fresh-faced they got, but the rest of the package made one think rather more about dairy goods. Still, with good humour, they greeted Sukie and her sisters, took the requisite photos, and shook hands all around. Then they handed Sukie the check for the balance of her win- nings, four thousand five hundred sixty-two dollars US, and had Katie fill out the insurance papers for the Cadillac they were putting at her disposal when they arrived in Orlando. "You'll be staying at the Corona Real resort in Century Beach. Its five-star all the way, you'll find, Miss", said the ringlead- er, Farthingay or Fasserwill or some such. "Its about two hours from Orlando and Disney World, and right on the beach! You and your sisters will love it, I'm sure." He handed Katie a card. "If you have any problems or questions, call this number in Florida. Its company headquarters. Congrat- ulations and have a wonderful time!" "Pinch me", said Sukie. "I still can't believe this is happen- ing!" The company agents took leave and left them to await their flight. Apart from the usual commotion the sisters Mallory cre- ated among members of the masculine persuasion every time they went out together, no one could have thought the day more per- fect, until the announcement came over the airport speaker. 'Call for Miss Kate Mallory! Call for Miss Kate Mallory! Please pick up on the nearest line.' Katie ran to the counter and grabbed a phone. Minutes later, she returned, smiling from ear to ear. "That was my boss, girls. Miss Walters, remember?" Sukie jumped with excitement. "Jennie!", she shouted enthusias- tically. Sukie had fond memories of the dark-haired woman who had changed all their lives so dramatically. "Yes, Jennie", continued Katie. "She phoned to let us know she'll be joining us in Florida next week. She has some things to wrap up at the Lab, then, well, it'll be just like old times, won't it? *************************************************** Jeremy opened the refrigerator and stared inside. Just like his dad, he though. A six pake of beer and a pepperoni. Shit! Where was he going to get milk at one-thirty in the morning? Scratching himself, he returned to the dining room table where his dry bowl of Shredded Wheat awaited him. Looking through the window, he saw a light on next door. Steve's fiancee lived over there. Now, as almost almost-family, he felt a tenuous right to run over and ask for a few staples. He made a few quick mental notes. Milk, for certain. Maybe a little sug- ar, and a little butter. Maybe his dreams would come true, and Amanda would come to the door Just the thought of those massive beanbag-chair-sized breasts greeting him at the door made his crotch tingle. It was worth the risk! Pulling on his bathrobe he crossed the short patch of grass separating his house from the girls' cottage and knocked on the side door. He heard some bumping and thumping, then the freckle-faced brunette opened the door. "Oh, hello, Jeremy", she said. "What do you want? Its one-thirty, and I was just going to bed." I'm sorry, Ginnie", Jeremy apologized, remembering her name in the nick of time. "I didn't want to drive all the way to Albert- son's this time of night, and I was wondering if you could loan me a couple of things until tomorrow?" "What sort of things, Jeremy?", asked Ginny. She was wearing a t-shirt cut off at the midriff, revealing an only slightly pudgy and very freckly tummy. The top of the t-shirt barely covered a substantial amount of jiggly breast-flesh obviously unencumbered by any underwear. Jeremy felt his cock twitch despite himself. Funny, thought Jeremy, I don't remember Ginnie being this big on top. She looks pretty good. "Uh, kitchen things, Gin", he replied. "Milk, butter, sugar, you know." "Baking a cake at this hour, are we?", she teased. "You're going to have to invite me over when its finished." Suddenly, that sounded like a splendid idea to Jeremy, although it had never occured to him before. Ginnie returned with the items he had mentioned. A gallon of milk, a stick of margarine, a plastic bag full of sugar. "Here", she said, putting the items in his hands. "Have a good cake! You can bring it back whenever. We aren't going to starve!" Carrying the groceries back over to his own house, Jeremy found he couldn't stop thinking about what was jiggling away under Gin- ny's cut-away t-shirt. Crushing another biscuit of Shredded Wheat into his bowl, he untapped the milk and poured it on. Why hadn't he noticed Ginny before, he wondered. And why did this milk taste so damned good? *************************************************** It was only lack of communications that kept outright chaos from breaking out at 1401 Ocean Drive on the last week of June. All the girls had grown, some one cup size, some, almost two. No one had been left untouched, except, oddly, little Ashley. Bras and blouses treasured for years were discarded callously, and a lot of comparison and cross-checking went on, but, since all of the residents of the cottage were never together at one time, no one was able to get a picture what had occured as a house-wide phenomenon. Still, breast growth being a much more positive occurence than breast shrinkage, each of the girls accepted the outbreak as a private stroke of well-deserved good fortune. The girls who had formerly been nearly flat-chested, like Karen, Susan, Courtney, and Chrissy, enjoyed themselves much like poor relatives recently come into an inheritance. They all spent much more money than they should have on chest-revealing clothing; halter tops, 'boob tubes', skimpy swim suits, tight T-shirts and the like. Candy, Tarah, and Ginnie, who had been more generously endowed to begin with, now found themselves, to their delight, on the verge of being truly stacked. Still, no one suspected Amanda, who continued giving between four and five gallons of milk nightly, or Ginnie, who concientiously bottled it and stored it in the common refrigerator. Watching her new housemates grow out of their shirts, Amanda felt a chill run down her spine. It could be a co-incidence, she thought. Most of these women were quite young, she thought, just one or two years out of high school. Then too, nothing had hap- pened to Candy's daughter, Ashley. Amanda remembered her own transformation. It had been gradual enough. First, she grew several inches, almost overnight. Still flat-chested, she and her sister Blair had had to buy a whole new wardrobe. It was only after that that their breasts began to sprout, growing quickly from small to medium to decent to their present eminence. Still, Amanda took the precaution of asking Ginny if she was pouring out the milk every night after each milking session. 'Right down the drain, Amanda', Ginny had answered. Amanda did a quick mental scan of Ginny. My God, she's lying, thought Amanda. All these girls have been drinking my milk for the past week. Then Ashley shot up almost a foot in three days, going from four-four to five-three between Friday and Monday.