"CAN you put this in the washing machine, Mum?"
    Mrs Smith turned pale. "What is it?"
    "Sian's T-shirt."
    "But it's covered in blood! The poor child. Where is she?"
    "In the bathroom, probably. But it's only tomato ketchup. If you scrape it off carefully, we can put it back in the bottle. That's the last there is."
    "You dirty little girls. You're a disgrace. What's she wearing now?"
    "I borrowed one of Zara's old tops out of the laundry. It nearly fits Sian. It's got some funny white stains all down the front, but Sian said it's okay. They look like cum. And Sian says they smelled like cum. They must have been cum."
    "Pandora!" Mrs Smith finally realised that her youngest daughter was standing in the kitchen still wearing an outsized dressing gown. "Go and get dressed at once. What do you think you look like!"
    "There's another thing. My bra doesn't fit and my jeans won't do up."
    "What? Since when?"
    "Since this morning. They were okay last night. But I just tried, and nothing fits." She peeled the top of the dressing gown open and peered inside with evident satisfaction. "I've grown," she announced proudly.
    "Let me see." To Mrs Smith's surprise, Pandora turned round and bent over, hoisting the tails of the dressing gown up to reveal her bum. "I meant your bust. Although your bum does look rather large. Are those panties the biggest you've got?"
    "No."
    "Change them, then. Find a bigger pair. Those look obscene."
    "Mine are all smaller than these. These are yours." She flashed her backside again. "See?"
    "I wish you'd asked, Pandora!"
    "There wouldn't be any point. You'd only have said no. Anyway, can I have some bigger ones? And some bigger jeans?" This time she did reveal her bust, disturbingly naked beneath the dressing gown. "And a bigger bra, of course."
    Mrs Smith blinked. Things seemed to have happened rather suddenly. "I suppose so..."
    "Tomorrow morning?"
    "What about school?"
    "We've only got Science. If I get a new bra in the morning, I can wear it in the afternoon. We've got Maths. With Mr Lombank." Pandora blushed prettily and adopted a simpering expression.
    "All right, then. I can't send you to school without a bra anyway."
    "Woweee! All right!"
    Sian came downstairs. "I should stay away from the bathroom for a few minutes if I were you, Mrs Smith. What's the matter, Panda?"
    "I'm getting a new bra and panties tomorrow, in time for Mr Lombank's class!"
    "You can't wear bra and panties for Maths," said Sian, deeply outraged.
    "Why are you wearing a towel, Sian?" Pandora demanded.
    "Erm. I had an accident in the bathroom..."
    "What happened? Didn't you get there in time?"
    "No, not that sort of an accident. You remember Zara's T-shirt you lent me? The ones with all Barry's cum-stains down the front?"
    "Yeah."
    "Well, I'd got it on, and I was sitting on the toilet, kind of straining a bit, you know?"
    "What happened?"
    "It split. I think all that cum of Barry's must've rotted it away or something. Anyway, it's no good any more. It's nice and soft, though; it will make good rags for polishing the car."
    "Oh, dear, Sian. I don't know what Zara's going to say. You should never have given it to her, Pandora. Sian was obviously far too big for it. You shouldn't borrow other people's clothes without asking."
    "I told you there's no point in asking," Pandora sighed. "They always say no. What's Sian going to wear now?"
    Mrs Smith tried rummaging through the laundry basket. "Here's a sweater of Betsy's. It's very loose on her."
    "It'll be even looser by the time Sian's finished with it," Pandora muttered.
    "I took my bra off, Mrs Smith. That way, I don't stick out so far."
    Mrs Smith stared helplessly as Sian somehow hid inside her towel and struggled into the sweater. Ominous creaking sounds came from it until the girl flung the towel aside and presented herself for inspection. "Goodness, girl! You're huge!"
    "Tell me about it, Mrs Smith! It seems to fit, though."
    That was a matter of opinion. The sweater was long enough to reach to her Sian's thighs, but her extremely heavy and unsupported bust was obeying the rules of physics. It was a fluid, and it steadfastly refused to be compressed.
    "Your nipples are right down there!" Pandora pointed out delightedly. "And your tits are hanging out the bottom!"
    "Ouch, Panda!"
    "I'm only poking them back in. You can't go out like that."
    "I don't know what I'm going to wear for school, either," said Sian. "All my blouses were getting tight last week. I'm tons bigger than that now."
    "You can come with Mum and me to Gerard's tomorrow. If you stay over here again tonight, we'll be able to go early in the morning."
    "Thank you for organising everyone's lives for them, Pandora," sighed Mrs Smith. "Don't you think we ought to discuss it with Sian's mother first?"
    Pandora was still on her knees. She flapped her hands in frustration. "She won't mind. Her mum's used to her girls needing new bras all the time. Every time I shove one of your tits back in, the other one falls out!" She heaved the bottom of the sweater up, releasing the lower ends of both Sian's breasts, including the well-chewed nipples.
    "Pandora, put the girl's boobs away!"
    "In a minute."
    "What are you doing?"
    "Just sucking them a bit. There, it's working already!"
    "Wow, Panda! They're filling up ever so fast."
    "Right! Now, if I push them up, the sweater will be so tight, that ... there, see? I knew it would work!"
    Both breasts were crammed into the sweater and swelling fast. It would take high explosive to get them out now. Either that, or...
    "That's good," said Pandora, standing up and dusting her hands off. "We can go for a walk now."
    "You're coming for a walk in that dressing gown?"
    "Hang on a minute and I'll find something." Pandora roared away upstairs. Thirty seconds later she was back. "Ready. See you at twelve o' clock, Mum!"
    "Pandora! Come back! You can't go out like that, you'll get locked up!"
    "She always says that," said Pandora comfortably as she slammed the back door. "I've never been locked up yet. There's no law against eleven-year-old girls not wearing bras." The two girls wobbled down the lane in the direction of the cow field.
    "There's a law against it when you're getting measured," Sian reminded her.
    A stream of cars drove by and the girls waved happily to the passing drivers. Horns tooted in response and there was the occasional sound of minor impact between vehicles and their environment.
    Sian grinned and shook her breasts at a truck driver who was leaning out of his window as his wagon crawled past up the hill, his eyes out on stalks. "Everybody's so friendly round here. Even when they're driving cars and vans and lorries, they still wave back to us." She cupped her massive curves and hefted them, one at a time, six inches higher. They stayed put for a while before sliding down again. "Wow, they've never been this huge! I'm going to need milking real soon."
    "That's all right. I'm thirsty anyway." Pandora skipped ahead, stopping her breasts bouncing with a forearm.
    "Let's go in the field," Sian called to her. "I can't walk much further like this."
    Pandora unhooked the gate and squeezed through into the cow field. Sian was laughing behind her.
    "Panda? You know your bottom?"
    "What about it?"
    "Your bottoms are hanging out of your shorts. Both sides. They must be ever so much bigger."
    "They're not that big, are they?" Pandora tried to see, but as fast as she turned round, her buttocks always turned faster.
    "They're enormous. You can see where they kind of hang over like a pair of boobs. And in between your legs, half your pussy's kind of hanging out."
    "Why didn't you say?" Pandora felt with her fingers and stuffed her stray labia out of sight. "Is that better?"
    "It should be okay as long as you don't walk. There, it's popped out again. At least, with half your pussy hanging out, the policemen won't notice your nipples sticking out of that crop-top like chapel hatpegs."
    "It's Tina's. Do you like it? What's a chapel hatpeg?"
    "Dunno. Dad always says it. Can we sit down now? It's ever so hard walking with no bra."
    Pandora had stopped again, fumbling between her legs.
    "Now what?"
    "It's ripped. My shorts are so tight, they've split. I can't push my pussy back in!"
    Sian giggled. "Let's see. Wow, Panda! It's hanging right out both sides of your shorts crotch. You've got an enormous one, Panda!"
    "Don't be horrible!" Pandora pouted. "I'm not going to drink your milk now."
    "You've got to! You started it coming in. If you don't drink me, I'll explode!"
    "I bet you don't."
    "You've got to drink me." Sian sat down on a tuffet. Already, the cows were making their leisurely way over to watch the fun. She struggled with the hem of her sweater. "They won't come out. It's too tight round the bottom!"
    "You've got to take them out one at a time." Oblivious to the fact that she was exposing herself to a circle of fascinated cows, Pandora got down on hands and knees and addressed herself to the problem. The sweater was now so appallingly tight that she couldn't even get a hand inside. "You've really done it now," she said. "Betsy will kill you."
    "No she won't. She'll kill you. You were the one who stuck my tits in here then made my milk come in."
    "It was my mum's fault for giving you the sweater in the first place."
    "It don' matter whose fault it was," said Sian. "Here it goes."
    "Don't breathe!"
    "I'll die if I don't breathe. I've got to! Oops, it's started! All down this side."
    "No! Let me try again and see if I can get one of your tits out. If one comes out, you'll be able to get it off over your head."
    "It's no good, Panda. It's split all the way down. Wow! My tit!"
    The whole of Sian's right breast burst out into the fresh air. One of the cows lowed in appreciation. Pandora gasped at the sight.
    "I can get it off now. It's no use any more." Sian pulled the ruined sweater over her head. It was still in one piece, but that was the only bit of good news. Betsy was going to go ballistic. "I thought you weren't going to drink me," Sian said, as her friend crawled closer. Both girls closed their eyes and enjoyed the moment.
    They didn't hear the voices, they were making too much noise themselves.
    "...The buggers must've come through this gate 'ere, cos you could see the tracks of their bloody Land Rover..."
    "You're sure it was a Land Rover, Frank?" PC Murphy was always so pedantic when he was on an investigation.
    "Whatever it bloody were. It were a four-wheel drive, and it had a trailer on the back big enough for a bloody cow. They've drove in, bold as brass, in broad daylight, large as life, cool as cucumbers..." Farmer Briggs ran out of clichés and paused. "An' they've nicked one of my cows."
    "So you told us, Frank. I'd better take a few measurements."
    "'Ang on. What's going on over 'ere. What's up with them cows?"
    The policeman hung back. He'd heard about cows. They could give you a nasty poke with their horns. The farmer had moved closer with his walking stick.
    "Bloody hellfire! Come 'ere and 'ave a look at this little lot, Bert!"
    Constable Murphy advanced. His jaw dropped, while his official mind struggled with the scene before him. Was an offence being committed? Was it an assault? An affray? The miscreants appeared to be both female — in fact, they were arguably the femalest females he had ever seen — so perhaps there was no indecency as such. Conduct likely to cause a Breach of the Peace? That sounded likely.
    "Now then," he pronounced sternly. "What's all this?"

Constable Murphy closed the door of the interview room and leaned against it to mop his brow. How had he become mixed up in this? He'd set out this morning to look into the theft of a domestic farm animal, namely and to whit, a cow, and he'd ended up arresting a couple of raving lezzies in the middle of a field. This was a job for a policewoman. Where was the cow when she was needed? Not the cow, he corrected himself with a shudder; where was WPC Kesselring?
    The front door of the police station slammed shut. Ah, that would be her now. Probably been out visiting one of her girlfriends.
    "Oi! WPC Kesselring! Can you spare a minute?"
    "What do you want? I haven't had a cup of tea all morning. I'm spitting feathers."
    "Something for you. I've got a couple of young ladies in the interview room..."
    The policewoman's ears pricked up. Not a pretty sight.
    "What have they done?"
    "I came upon them ... I apprehended them exposing themselves in a field. A field of cows."
    "I'd better look into it," she said, adjusting her severely-cropped hair. "Who are they? What do you know about them?"
    "I don't know! They won't stop blubbering like kids. Two bloody grown women acting like eleven-year-olds. They gave me their names, but that's all."
    "Names?"
    "A Miss Smith and a Miss Jones. Or maybe Ms. Could be false names, of course."
    "Just possibly. I'll see them straight away. Send us in some tea, okay?"

Pandora and Sian looked up as the woman came in. Then they started sobbing again, hugging their grey blankets round them for comfort.
    "Now, then, what's all this?"
    The crying continued.
    "Which of you is Smith and which one's Jones?"
    "I'm Smith," said Pandora.
    "I'm Jones."
    "You're quite sure? What about other names?"
    "Pandora."
    "Sian."
    "Well, that's an improvement at least. A little more imaginative than Smith and Jones. Where do you live?"
    The howling started once more.
    "All right, all right! We'll come back to that later. What were you doing in the middle of a field full of cows?"
    Pandora stopped snuffling for a moment. "Nothing. Sian's sweater had split. Well, it was Betsy's, actually, 'cos she'd already burst Zara's T-shirt and none of her own stuff fits her any more. So I was milking her to make her smaller..."
    “Milking...?”
    Sian decided to get in on the narrative. "She was on her hands and knees 'cos I was sitting down and her shorts had split 'cos she's getting such a big bum and that's why her pussy was hanging out..."
    "Wait a minute. Hang on. Quiet. How old are you two?"
    "Eleven," admitted Pandora quietly.
    WPC Kesselring leaned forward across the table. "I thought as much. Don't you think it would be better if you went home to your mummies instead of wasting valuable police time with your little girl fantasies?"
    The two girls went white as chalk.
    "All this nonsense about milking. It's cows that get milked, not girls, Pandora. And Sian, little girls shouldn't use words like 'pussy', should they. Unless they're talking about cats."
    "I wasn't talking about cats," sobbed Sian. "I was talking about Pandora's big slippery cunt hanging out of her shorts."
    "And I was talking about Sian's tits. They were so big, she'd split her sweater. Betsy's sweater. Look, here it is." She reached down and picked up the sweater from the floor. She'd brought it along in case it could be repaired, against her better judgement which suggested she ought to throw it in the hedge and swear she'd never seen it before in her life.
    WPC Kesselring stared at the sweater as it lay on the table. It was obviously nearly new, quite expensive, and too big even for her own substantial bust. She held it up, and discovered the frayed, jagged split right down one side. She laid it back down on the table, her eyes drawn to the imprint of what appeared to be two giant nipples right down by the hem.
    "What are you wearing under those blankets?"
    "Not much," said Sian. "Pants and jeans."
    "My shorts," said Pandora. "And a crop-top. It's one of Zara's, only I borrowed it, 'cos my stuff's all in the wash and it's been getting too tight anyway. We're getting new bras tomorrow morning instead of going to schoo..." She stopped, aware that her audience was not really listening. Grown-ups never listened. This grown-up was scraping back her chair and getting to her feet.
    "Stand up, both of you."
    The girls did as they were told. This was a lady policeman, after all. Probably. She was wearing a skirt, at least, and she had bumps under her blue shirt.
    "Take your blankets off. It's all right, I'm a woman."
    The woman's mouth opened and she sat down suddenly.
    Not wishing to be impolite, the girls sat down, too.
    "Ouch!" Sian's breasts had hit the edge of the table before slithering into her lap like a pair of unruly labrador puppies.
    "P-p-put them back on, th-thank you."
    Grown-ups could never make up their minds.
    "How would you two like a nice ride in my police car? With pretty red stripes on the side, and a nice flashing blue lamp on the roof? I'm going to take you home to your mummies!"
    The howling started once more, just as PC Murphy backed into the room with his tray of mugs of tea. Ah, good to see the investigation progressing satisfactorily.

"It must be all that breakfast you had." Eirlys leaned against the bathroom wall and touched herself intimately through her towel. The girls had just shared a much-needed shower.
    "Breakfast goes to your tummy. My tummy's still the same size as it was. More or less, anyway. The problem's up here." Tina demonstrated the problem.
    "It don' look like no problem from where I'm standing, baby," Eirlys gulped. "It looks like you've grown a couple of inches since last night."
    "Impossible." Tina continued turning from side to side while looking in the mirror for confirmation that it was not only possible, it was really happening. Her breasts, normally a generous double handful, were definitely bigger. Big enough to see the difference. She tried cupping one from beneath, then added her other hand. There was more than she could hold. Eirlys came over and lent a hand. Between them, they safely captured it. "It's half as big again as it used to be," Tina whispered, wide-eyed. "Wow! Why?"
    "Why not? Girls of our age do grow."
    "Yeah, but not this much, and not this fast. This bra's a 34F, I think." She picked at the label but it had faded away to a blank. "It used to nearly fit me. Look at it now!" She tried it on again, with no more success than last time. The bra was wholly inadequate.
    "Come back in the bedroom and let's measure you. You might have to go and see Gerard in the morning. I wish I could come with you."
    "You could come. Tell your mum you're sick." She gathered up her clothes off the floor, wrapped herself in a towel and followed Eirlys out of the bathroom.
    "Stand over yer in the light, where I can see the numbers." Eirlys encircled Tina's chest with the tape.
    "No, don't do my bust yet." Tina chewed her lip. "Measure the rest of me first!"
    "Why?"
    "Why not?"
    "All right. But I'm gonna need another shower after this."
    "I'll help you. Just get on with it!" Tina stepped out of her pants and stood naked by the window.
    "How tall are you?"
    "I don't know. You're the one with the tape measure!"
    "Stand against the wall, then." Eirlys, concentrating hard, leaned close to her friend, rested a pencil on top of her head and made a mark on the wall. "It's not easy, you being so much taller than me," she said as she pulled Tina away from the wall to measure the distance to the floor. "Hold the top of the tape up there." She got down on all fours. "Five feet two," she said at last, speaking directly to Tina's crotch. She laughed suddenly.
    "What's up?"
    "I ought to measure your inside leg."
    "What's that?"
    "All the way up yer. Like when you get measured for trousers. Right up to the top! Dad needed a new pair of trousers and Mam had to measure 'im. I didn't know he was so ticklish. They went to bed straight after that..."
    "They don't measure girls legs like that. They couldn't."
    "Why not?"
    "Well ... it would be too rude! Zara had a pair of trousers made to measure, 'cos she's so tall. They measured her leg up to the waist, she said, then made her sit down and measured the height from her waist to the seat of the chair."
    "That's no fun at all! Let me do yours the way Mam did Dad. I'll just have to be careful not to lose the end of the tape, that's all..."
    "Ei!"
    "Too far up?"
    "Ei!"
    "Thirty-six can't be right! Let's do your hips anyway, before I start coming all over the place again. There, thirty-four."
    "That's getting bigger, too. Still, at least, it's not as big as Pandora's arse. She's disgusting!"
    "Yours is just perfect. So's your waist. Twenty-two."
    "So's Pandora's," said Tina gloomily. "She's a little hourglass, the cow."
    "I bet your top's lots bigger than hers, though. Right, twenty-nine round there, and..."
    "Yes...?"
    "I need to stand on a chair. Keep your face out of my crotch, okay?"
    "You never complained before."
    "I'm not complaining now. First things first, that's all! Right. Hold still..."
    "I'm not even breathing..."
    "Forty ... one ... two ... three ... four! And a half!"
    "Eirlys! I'm huge!"
    "I reckon it means you're a J-cup now! That's pretty big."
    "It's as big as Betsy! She'll go ape-shit when I tell her."
    "Don't tell her."
    "Why not?"
    "Don't tell her until tomorrow, anyway. You might be even bigger by then. If you've grown three and a half inches in two days, I doubt if you've finished yet! At least, it's solved one problem."
    "What's that?"
    "As long as you don't mind wearing pink bras, Mam can give you some of her old ones!"

Tina's tits felt as if they'd been eaten alive. Eirlys had been sucking at them all afternoon. Not that Tina was complaining, but it felt good to get back home and roll on to her own bed. Carefully, so as not to squash her new monsters. They felt even bigger than when Eirlys had measured them that morning, but they felt so puffed up and sore anyway that she wasn't inclined to check the figures. She'd have a word with Mum about seeing Gerard tomorrow. Meanwhile, this ex-Mrs Jones bra felt like a harness on her. She got up, unhooked it with extreme difficulty and liberated her aching tits.
    "That's better," she told the dressing table mirror. "Shit! Would you look at those things!" The mirror said not a word. It didn't really need to. "They are bigger. They're bigger than Betsy's, easy. I bet if I..."
    A knock on the door.
    "Just a minute...!" Tina looked for something to put on, quickly! She flung open a drawer and found a T-shirt. "Coming!" She opened the door, rubbing her eyes and yawning unconvincingly, then quickly folded her arms.
    "Who were you talking to?" demanded Betsy, marching in and standing with her arms akimbo."
    "I - I was asleep. I must have been dreaming!" She tried to hide the big pink bra on the chair, but it slid to the floor and she tried to kick it out of sight. It clung to her foot, but Betsy somehow hadn't noticed. She was too busy glaring round the room.
    "You've got it, haven't you?"
    "Got what, Bets?"
    "My new sweater. I've got to pack all my stuff for the new school and I need my best sweater. Where is it?"
    "I haven't seen it."
    "Nobody else would want it. You're the only one anywhere near my size."
    "I haven't! I've been next door with Eirlys all weekend."
    "Where is it, then? I looked in the laundry basket and it's ... what's that on your shoe?"
    Too late, Tina kicked the bra away under the bed. Betsy pounced on it and brought it out like a trophy.
    "You must have pinched this from my room. It's one of those that Mrs Bloody-Jones kindly gave me. Pink bras! Yuck!"
    "No, she gave that one to me."
    "What for? You're not a 34J!"
    She was right, Tina thought. That 34J was too small!
    "Mine were all dirty. It ... doesn't fit very well..." Tina turned away, hunching her shoulders.
    "Hang on!"
    "What?"
    "What's that on your shirt? It wasn't there a minute ago. It's wet!"
    "I just put it on, it's clean..." Tina folded her arms again, but realised that the position was tightening the shirt across her bust. Besides, Betsy was right. The front of her T-shirt was wet. In two places. Blind panic struck her. She must have been dribbling or something...
    "That's milk, Tina!"
    "Milk?"
    "There's more of it, look, the patches are getting bigger! Take your shirt off."
    "I can't! Where are you going?"
    "To find Mum. You can't suddenly start giving milk, just like that! You haven't got a baby."
    "Sian and Keri haven't got babies either..."
    "It's pouring out! Take your shirt off, quick!" And Betsy leaped forward to help. She yanked the shirt up over Tina's head, and Tina felt her breasts flop massively down on to her belly. So heavy! "Bloody hell! Look at them!"
    "I can't," Tina said from inside the shirt. "What about them?"
    She popped out into the daylight in time to see Betsy grab one of her breasts then step back, trying to brush off the drops of milk that had sprayed out all over her shorts.
    "Look at the size of them!"
    Tina looked as if seeing them for the first time. "Wow," she said, feeling that it didn't really do justice to the situation. "They're bigger."
    "They're miles bigger," Betsy screeched indignantly.
    "I s'pose they are," Tina agreed, thinking that they were now certainly a whole lot bigger than a 34J-cup bra.
    "Whaddya mean, you suppose so? You walk in here, gushing milk, with a forty-four inch bust or something..."
    "And a half," Tina interrupted before wishing she could bite her tongue off.
    Betsy narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "And a half what?"
    "Oh, nothing. I mean they're not half big. Not half as big as Keri's. Or Ei's. Only they are, I suppose..." she ended weakly. "Half as big, I mean. Or maybe more..."
    "Stop blathering, girl." Betsy found a towel and threw it at her sister. "Soak it up with that. I'll tell Mum. She'll probably call Dr Wallace..."
    "Doctor? There's nothing wrong with me. I'm giving milk, that's all." She peered into the towel which was fast becoming soaked right through. "Quite a lot of milk. If you're going downstairs, you could fetch a bucket, or something..."
    "You sodding little cow!"
    Betsy flounced out and pounded downstairs.
    "She didn't seem very pleased," Tina said to herself, clutching the soggy towel to her chest. It didn't feel bad at all. In fact, it felt simply amazing! "I wonder if cows feel as good as this..."

"Why shouldn't I give milk, Mum? Keri does. So does Sian."
    "I've heard quite enough about that little slut for today, thank you," said Mrs Smith sharply.
    "Slut? Sian? What's she done?"
    "She's got our Pandora arrested, that's what," said Betsy from the bedroom doorway. She was trying to see inside, but her mother was very much in the way.
    "Arrested?" That's it; spend one night away from home, and the whole world goes crazy. "What's she done?"
    "No comment," her mother snapped.
    "It's sub judice," Betsy offered. "But they were exposing themselves to a field of cows."
    "Betsy, that's quite enough of that. Go and finish packing."
    "Exposing themselves...?" Eleven-year-olds seemed to have all the fun.
    "Leave it, Tina! Now, what are we going to do about this milk problem?"
    "Cancel the order with the milkman? Buy me a pump like Keri's? Buy me a new bra. In fact, I definitely need a new bra. All of a sudden I'm a big girl."
    "You've always been a big girl, Tina."
    "I'm a bigger girl now."
    "You're not taking this very seriously."
    "It's only milk! Ask Mrs Jones what she does about it. All we need is somewhere to keep it all. There's going to be quite a lot, I think. Look at the state of that towel."
    Mrs Smith thought about it. Perhaps speaking to Mrs Jones would be the best thing to do. The woman had reared a family of milk-sodden little sluts with gigantic breasts; at least she had first-hand experience.
    "You'd better lie down for a while."
    "I'm not sick, Mum! Can I see Gerard tomorrow? Please?"
    "I suppose so."
    "I wonder if I ought to," Tina gnawed at her knuckles thoughtfully. "What if I'm still growing?"
    "Don't. Even. Joke. About it," said Mrs Smith dangerously. "I'm going next door!"
    Tina waited until the back door slammed, then she edged out of her bedroom and along the corridor, her breasts rebounding massively, even supported by Mrs Jones' bra. She knocked lightly on Pandora's bedroom door, and slipped inside.
    "Hi, Sis. What's up? You've been crying! Come on. Give your big sister a cuddle and tell me all about it. I've got things to tell you, too!"

"She's how big?" Tina gasped.
    "You know how big she was on Friday?" chirped Pandora, restored to her usual good spirits by a loving hug or two.
    "Not exactly, no."
    Pandora hugged her dressing gown round her and snuggled down amongst her pillows. "Well, she got a bra from Gerard and it was one of those milking ones. And she put it on in the shop and it fit when she was full, 'cos I'd been sucking at her until the milk came in and she was massive. Spraying out, it was. Anyway, it was a 30E2. That's the size."
    "A 30E-cup's not very big. Well, I mean, it's big for a eleven-year-old, but Sian's bigger than that."
    "Not a 30E. It was a 30E2. I'm useless with numbers but I think it means after you reach Z in the alphabet, you have to start again? So it's like E on the second time around."
    "No, don't be silly, Pandora. That would mean Sian had a sixty-inch bust or something like that!" Tina laughed.
    "That's right!" Pandora's little face lit up with earnest enthusiasm. "Sixty-one inches! I was there when Gerard measured her."
    "Surely not."
    "I was there, Tee."
    "Sixty-one? That's massive!"
    "I know. She is massive. Only she's even massiver now. She can't wear that bra any more. That's why she's got to see Gerard again tomorrow morning. It's too small."
    Tina's throat had closed up. "How much too small?"
    "I don't know about numbers, Tee. But they dangle right down to here." She had to stand up to demonstrate.
    "Bloody hell! What time's she going to see Gerard?"
    "Nine o' clock. Mum's letting me go, too. She wanted to stop me, 'cos of Sian and me getting arrested and everything, but Sian's mum said we'd need nice bras and nice clothes in case we had to go to jail."
    "Jail? What did you do?"
    "Maybe it wasn't jail. Court? We were only in the field with the cows, and I was milking Sian so she could get her sweater off. Betsy's sweater, actually. Anyway, she couldn't, 'cos it broke in half."
    "You what? Was that Betsy's new sweater? She was looking for that. She thought I'd pinched it."
    "No, Mum did. But Sian broke it in half. I left it at the police station. There was a woman policeman there. What do you call women who like each other?"
    "Friends?"
    "No. I mean like you and Eirlys. It starts with an 'L'."
    "Lovers? You mean Lesbians!" Tina found herself blushing crimson.
    "That's right. The policeman was one. And when she saw Sian's titties, she sat down in her chair and cummed..."
    "Pandora!"
    "She did! We could smell it all the way home in the police car."
    "Where's Sian now?"
    "She's grounded, same as me." Pandora wandered over to the window and stared down into next door's back garden.
    "That dressing gown looks tight across your bum."
    Pandora laughed and tied the belt really tightly round her waist. "It's tight round the top, too," she said, whirling round and thrusting out her chest.
    "Pandora! What's happened?"
    "I've grown."
    "I can see that. Show me properly. Take that dressing gown off."
    "No, you'll laugh."
    "Why should I laugh?"
    "'Cos my bum's so big. Mrs Jones said it's shameful."
    "How much bigger is it?"
    "I'm useless at numbers. It was thirty-six before."
    "Yeah? And...?"
    Pandora blushed deeply. "Thirty eight and a half."
    Tina blushed too. "Pandora! You're eleven years old. That's magnificent! You've got to show me!"
    "You mean it's good, having a big arse?"
    "Mine's only thirty-four. Yours is so womanly!"
    "So are my tits," said Pandora, gaining confidence. And she untied her belt and opened the top half of the dressing gown. But my middle's still the same size. Twenty-two. Is that good or bad, Tee?"
    "Good or bad? Fucking hell!"
    "You mustn't swear. It's rude."
    "I don't care. My little sister's suddenly turned into a big buxom woman. That's rude. How big's your bust now?"
    "Forty and a half," Pandora admitted shyly.
    "You can wear my bras then!"
    "What will you wear, Tee?"
    "I'm going to need some new ones. I'm bigger, too! Only my breasts, though. I'm lactating!"
    "What for?"
    "No reason, I just am. It's not my fault. I've just started giving milk."
    "Milk? Why didn't you say so?"
    "That's what lactating means, Pandora!"
    "Oh." Pandora looked crestfallen. "I'm useless at words." Then the implications seemed to hit her and she lit up like a beacon. "You've got milk? Can I have some?"
    "There isn't any. I've only just finished, so I'll be empty now for ages."
    "No you won't," Pandora assured her. "Get your tits out. I know how to make the milk come in again."
    "You can't! Even cows only get milked twice a day."
    "You're not a cow, though. You're a girl. Take that shirt off."
    Fascinated and wildly turned on, Tina unbuttoned her shirt. Her teats looked thicker and longer, and very dark. Her breasts were not quite as full as they had been an hour so earlier, but without a doubt they were bigger than last night or even this morning. What was her sister going to do? What was she doing?
    She was taking her dressing gown off. "I don't want to get milk on this; I stole it from Mum's wardrobe." She folded it immaculately then tossed it on to her bed and dropped to her hands and knees in front of Tina. Her breasts swinging from side to side and hanging down in heavy points, she crawled closer and reached up to grab a teat with both hands.
    "Are those Mum's panties as well?"
    "Mine don't fit any more," Pandora explained, then her lips closed around her sister's tit. Loud suckings filled the air.
    "Those don't fit, either. Does Mum know you've got them?"
    "Not exactly. She's got plenty more. These were brand new ones, in a pretty box with flowers on it, so she won't miss them."
    "They were a Christmas present. She'd have been saving them for a special occasion. Now look at them!"
    "What about them?" Pandora disengaged and looked round nervously.
    "You're hanging out of them. You've got great big hairy bits sticking out of the leg-holes. You really do have a very big pussy, Pandora."
    "Is that good or bad? Big tits are good, and so's a small waist. I can't work out whether a big bum's good or bad. I thought boys liked big things, but everybody tells me about my pussy sticking out as if it's something to be ashamed of."
    "Most girls do try to keep them hidden, Sis. I don't think the size matters, really, but it's very rude to let people see it."
    "They won't be able to see it when I've got a skirt on. You can sort of see the shape of it through my jeans..." She considered for a moment. "Is it very hairy, Tee?"
    "Quite hairy, yes. Why?"
    "It's good to be hairy. I could get excused!"
    "Oh, Pandora! You're so silly!"
    "You mean it's not good? I'm useless at good and bad things." She suddenly broke off and latched on to Tina's breast again. "Something's happening," she mumbled indistinctly. "It's coming!"
    'So am I,' thought Tina. Pandora's ridiculously innocent chatter and the suction of her lips were having an arousing effect. The girl was right, too. There was a remarkably full feeling. Not more milk already, surely?
    "Yes!" Pandora exulted. And she transferred her mouth to Tina's right breast. At the well-chewed tip of the left one, a droplet of milk quivered on the end of the nipple, then it dropped off and was replaced by another.

End of Chapter 7