Dr Hooters - Pt. LIII by the Road Dog OVERSIGHT AND UNDERWEAR Amanda woke all the girls in the cottage up at four, according to the plan. By five-thirty, they were all in the cars, still sleepily munching on doughnuts and sipping coffee, and the cara- van pulled out of the lot while the ocean horizon was just begin- ning to glow with the first hints of dawn. Pulling out onto I-95, the four cars turned south, towards Miami. Even with seven drivers for the four cars, they had to pull over frequently to change, and those few fortunate souls abroad on the roads that Sunday morning returned to their homes with some mar- velous tales. Driving slowly, the caravan slowly wound its way south through Daytona, past the Cape and Melbourne. Then came the long, dull drive through the little coastal resort towns of Vero Beach, Fort Pierce, Port St Lucie, Stuart. Almost without warning, the city sprang up around them, and they were in urban Palm Beach County. Delighted, Amanda reached over from the back seat of Karen's car, filling the passenger's side of the front instantly with her im- mense boobs. She switched the car radio to a Cuban music station and cranked it up full volume. "Oiga! Mi musica!", she shouted in Spanish as the distinctive salsa rhythms poured out. Carefully, Amanda guided them past Boca Raton, and instructed them to leave the freeway at Pompano Beach, and turn down towards the ocean. It was just past noon. Following Amanda's instruc- tions, Karen weaved in and out of the unfamiliar streets until they stopped in front of a low white building about a block from the beach. The sign in the window read ALTERATIONS/CONFECCIONES in Spanish and English. "Are you **sure** this is the place, Mandy?", asked Karen. "It doesn't look as though anyone's home." "She's here", replied Amanda confidently, who had just completed a mental scan of the place and verified Marina's presence. "And if she can't help us, there isn't anyone else who can!" Amanda got out of the car and rang the doorbell. She heard a voice and footsteps inside, the n the door opened, and there was the grey-haired little lady who had come to her and Blair's res- cue what seemed to be years ago now. Amanda almost cried, it was so good to see a face she remembered from before her captivity and shipwreck. "I remember you", the little lady said in her heavily accented English. "You com' wit' Mary Lou that time. I 'member. How she is, Mary Lou?" She glanced at Amanda's extraordinary bust, about eye-level with hers and filling her entire field of vision. "You grown since I lass' see you, mi hijita! Come inside!" Before she stepped inside, Amanda indicated the caravan of four cars parked at the curb. "Little mother", she said in Spanish. "We need your help. Please. I have some friends here that, well, you understand..." Marina stepped out of the door and waved to the cars, inviting them inside. She gasped as the doors opened and the passengers filed out. All of them were wearing the largest T-shirts possi- ble, but were stretching them to the limit. Great unwieldy mass- es of breast tissue heaved and wobbled under the T-shirts as the car doors closed and the girls filed into the shop. "Come in, come in, my daughters", invited Marina. "You com' to the right place." She hugged each girl as she stepped into the small shop, and gave each one a slight peck on the cheek, in the Spanish custom. "Amanda, your name is, right?", the little lady beamed. "I don' never fo'get none of my special girls. See! I go' your name right here." She showed Amanda a notebook from early June with her name and her sister's, and their measurements, and their pur- chases. Tears came to Amanda's eyes as she remembered those in- nocent days, not even two months ago. How much had happened since then! Amanda introduced her new friends around, and asked if Marina could fit them. "Two weeks ago, I no could do it, Amanda", she replied. "But since then, I go to a convention in New York City. There was an Englishwoman there. Meese Shaw, that was her name. Beautiful tall girl she was, I r'member. We start talking." " 'Marina', she tells me. 'The market for our products is going to explode! If you get ready now, you can make a lot of money!' I tell her I don' mind making a lots of money, and we go into beezness together. I gotta factory in Haiti working around the clock. She busy too, that Meese Shaw. Calls every other day al- most, asking for the most largest sizes." She turned to the assembled young women in the shop. "Hokey, ev- er'body!", she commanded. "Shirts off!" "Les' start with the smallest first, 'Manda", Marina said, indi- cating that Chrissy should step forward. Encased in a grossly oversized T-shirt that fell almost to her ankles, Chrissy jiggled up, her great gelatinous breasts shaking and heaving on her slen- der chest. Pulling the T-shirt free with a practiced hand, Marina asked her to lift her breasts, not an easy task, as she slipped the tape measure around her rib cage. "Twenty-four eenches, hijita", she told Chrissy, giving her a pat on the left breast. "Ban' size thirty." Then, concentrating, she pulled a good deal more of the tape out, fastened one end on Chrissy's impressive left nipple, passed it around her back, and drew it across her other nipple, to join up where she began. Marina let her breath out slowly. "Fifty-seven inches", she said respectfully, shaking her hands out. "Meese Shaw 'n me, we gotta new measuring system. After Z, we start over, and you a 30 A- prime, mi amor. Good thing you com' now, not three weeks ago. Then, the biggest I have a 30T or 30V I t'ink. Moch too small for soch a beeg girl like you!" Chrissy beamed with pride. Ma- rina took her waist and hip measurements as well. "Eighteen inch waist, Thirty-one inch hips." She wrote the improbable numbers down in her notebook. Patting Chrissy lightly on the rump, Marina called Susan up the stand. Susan's car didn't have any air conditioning, and her long coal-black hair had been flying out the window like a flag since Daytona. She mounted Marina's step brushing out her hair, her bobbling breasts barely covered by one of her old T-shirts. "You nee' more suppor' then that, hijita", scolded Marina, peel- ing the T-shirt away like an unwanted candy wrapper. "Now, you gots leeft 'em for Marina, hokey?" She passed her tape measure around Suan's narrow rib cage. "Twenty-seeks", she announced. "Thass' ban' size 32. Good. I got lots them. Now, the teeties!" Susan dropped her breasts into place once again, where the jig- gled and bobbled for what seemed to be the longest time. When they had stabilized, Marina drew her measure across the fullest part of Susan's golden-brown breasts. "Wow! Sixty-three eench- es! I canna' believe. You need a 32-D, no a 32-E-prime!" Lowering her gaze, she measured off Susan's waist, finding it to be twenty-one, and her hips measured off at thirty-four. Susan stepped off the stool with a radiant smile. Of all the girls, she had ended up with the biggest breasts, and she was delighted. "Now you, sweetie", said Marina, indicating the dark-haired Ash- ley. To her surprise, Ashley measured in at sixty inches even. "34ZZ", Marina put in her notebook. "Twenty three inches waist. Thirty five inches hips. Next!" Her mother, Candy, broke the tape at fifty-nine. Marina pen- cilled in 34X in her book, and measured out twenty-four inches at the waist, thirty-seven in the hips. Candy glanced at her daugh- ter and winked. "Si! Si! Tha'ss righ'", Marina clucked. "Both you beeg girls. You sisters, no?" "Mother and daughter", corrected Candy. Marina nodded her head, signalling her approval. "Runs inna family, no?" "You could say that", Candy laughed. Tarah stood up next. "Liff' 'em, please", Marina requested. "They're too beeg for me to leeft myself!" Tarah complied, and Marina got her measurement. Thirty-one eenches, geeves you a thirty-eigh' ban'", Marina explained. "Now, the teeties, hokay?" Marina stretched her tape measure across Tarah's huge breasts, pausing to lift her glasses. "Wow! Seexty-three eenches. I gotta 38Y jess' for you, darling." Tarah's waist turned out to be twenty-six inches, and her hips thirty-seven. Marina consult- ed her little book again. Next, it was Karen's turn. Easily the most beautiful of all the girls there, Karen was complemented by Marina on her slim ath- letic physique. "Moss' girls built like you, honey", she ex- plained. "They don' pay attention to their other parts. Think all that a man's gonna look at's up here." She patted her own capacious bosom. "Bot you got soch beautiful legs, too. Tha'ss so nice." Karen lifted her breasts to allow Marina passage. "You a ban' size 34 too, honey", she purred. Pulling her tape measure across Karen's abundant breasts, she wrote 34-B-prime in her book. "Se- exty-two eenches. Waist, twenty-two, and heeps, thirty-six." Pulling off an oversized man's shirt which she had tied off at the midriff, Ginny displayed her freckled finery. She turned out to be a 36Z, sporting a sixty-two inch bust, a twenty-eight inch waist and forty inch hips. "You lose som' weight, hokey? Bot not where eet counts." Finally, Courtney stepped up onto Marina's measuring platform. "Feefty-nine eenches!", Marina exclaimed. "You need a 34Y." Courtney's waist measured in at twenty-one, breathtakingly narrow for a girl of five-ten, and her hips topped the tape at thirty- six. Clutching her notebook, Marina disappeared behind a cur- tain, and returned carrying a large cardboard box. She tossed the bras freely among the girls, always the correct size to the correct girl. "She's amazing", remarked Karen to Amanda, as she lowered her great watermelon-sized breasts into the soft fabric of Marina's spacious cups. Pulling the shoulder straps up, she had Susan fasten the bands from behind. "I can't believe it!", Karen said as she massaged her breasts through the soft cotton of the huge cups. It felt as though there were a thousand tiny hands pushing her enormous boobs up and off her abdomen. "The woman's a ge- nius! I don't know how she does it!" "I had lots ahff practice, Meese", replied Marina. "I even haff som'thing for my fren' Amanda here." Reaching into the box, she pulled a huge, hammock-like aparatus out. Amanda thought she had never seen so many snaps, hooks and fasteners. Marina helped her in. It wasn't a bra per se, it was more like a body-holder. Amanda had to step inside of it, as a portion of it was a pair of women's briefs. There was a thick strap running down the back, attaching Velcro to Velcro just above the crack of Amanda's ass. Astounded, Amanda watched as Marina wrapped two great folds about her ash-can sized breasts, swaddling them in cool white fabric. The folds wrapped themselves around Amanda's shoulders and an- chored themselves with more Velcro down the sides and finally clipped onto a row of snaps on either side of Amanda's thighs. To her complete astonishment, the apparatus lifted her one- hundred plus pounds of breast up off her upper thighs, shaping and molding it about her chest and abdomen. The fabric was cool, and appeared to breath normally. It was cut to a V in the front, so that all of Amanda's precipitous cleavage was visible. Most importantly, it anchored her solidly, so that could finally tell her breasts which way to go, instead of vice versa. She broke out into tears. "-Mamita linda! Que rico!", she cried in Spanish. "Marina! This is so wonderful, but I can't even begin to pay you for it!" Susan and Courtney pulled out their checkbooks simultaneously. The other girls followed suit. "Amanda", Ginny finally said. "Think of today as our treat, after all you've done for us!" A minor explosion of excited laughter broke out in the small shop as the girls tried on their new undergarments. There was only one full length mirror in the rear of the shop, and it got a lot of traffic. Then Marina opened a lock on a side door, and threw it open. "I open another section seence the lass' time you been here, Amanda", she boasted. "I know how hard eet ees for you girls to find cloths, so I open theese, the Supergirl Bou- tique. Ees no officially open yet, and I send mos' the clothes to Meese Shaw in London, bot your frien's, they're welcome to look aroun'" The girls all gasped. Tucked away in a little corner was a sump- tuous collection of outfits, all stylishly tailored and executed, but obviously made with the well-endowed woman in mind. There were business suits, sportswear, casual outfits, even dinner gowns. Even the aisles were wider, to allow larger figures better ac- cess. All the girls in the party fell to with great delight, trying on outfit after colorful outfit. "A girl shouldn't have to dress een a potato sack, jost because she haffs beeg breasts", laughed Marina, sharing the girls' delight. Karen hunted and hunted, until she came face to face with a glo- rious white bridal gown, draped over a mannequin of extraordinary dimensions. Squeaking with delight, Karen had Marina take the gown off the mannequin so she could try it on herself. A few minutes later she re-emerged, glowing, all sixty-three inches of her strategically but spectacularly displayed. Needless to say, the gown went onto the growing stack of outfits piled up on Mari- na's counter. Courtney turned over the tag on one of Marina's silk blouses. Confecciones Altamira, it read, one hundred thirty dollars. She threw it onto the pile of must-buys stacking up on Marina's counter. She stroked her fifty-nine inches of mammary spendour firmly anchored in their new harness and thought to herself, I can make that back in a half an hour with these babies. Just you watch. Finally, all the girls had finished making their selections, and Marina jockeyed her way behind the cash register to ring up their purchases. The final bill came to over four thousand dol- lars, including Karen's ornate gown. Marina passed the checks through her verifying machine and smiled broadly. "Meese Shaw was right. Beezness **is** good!" Then, she offered thick cups of frothy Cuban coffee around to her satisfied customers. Just as the group was preparing to leave with their parcels, Ma- rina remembered something. She handed a slip of paper to Amanda. "Now I 'member, Amanda", she confessed. "Your seester com' here with another woman. Blon' lady. She tell me to geef you this number eef I ever see you. I tell her, hokey, I do that!" She handed Amanda a slip of paper with a number written on it. "Your seester, she tol' me eef you call, ask for extension 4319. Tha'ss very important, she say. Hokey?" Bursting into tears of joy, Amanda tried to throw her arms around Marina's neck. "Careful, careful, Amanda. You no drown poor Ma- rina in teety, hokey?", she laughed. "I tol' you you com' to the right place!"