Part 42: Does your mother know that you’re out?
“How much?”
Dora’s voice almost broke.
“800 Euros. At least.” The young man looked at the bruised Porsche. “You’re lucky it isn’t worse. Most of it will just be flattening the dents.”
“800! We’re dead!”, Mel groaned.
“That’s… is there’s nothing you can do about it? Or that we can do?”
Mika puffed herself up and threw a radiant smile at the guy.
He did look a bit overwhelmed, surrounded by three beautiful buxom young women… but he didn’t budge.
“Not a chance. It’s already only the material and paint - I’m not charging you for the time. And, honestly, I wouldn’t even do that on such a short notice, if I didn’t owe Mika’s brother.”
“We’re dead! Dead!! Deader than dead!!!”, Mel cried.
Dora sighed. “Well, okay, we’ll get the money. But you can fix it by Sunday? Without any traces?”
The young man hesitated.
“Please, please, pretty please! We’ll be so grateful!” Mika inhaled deeply.
“Okay, okay, tone it down, I’ll do it. But I really can’t advance you the money.”
…
“80, 130, 150, 155… that’s it.” Dora looked down at the pitiful heap of coins and bills on the bed between her friends. “Can’t you ask your mom, Mel?”
“And admit that I crashed Mika’s dad’s new Porsche? She would ground me for the next hundred years. I… haven’t… err… re-registered my license to a German one yet.”
“At least you have a license.” Mika looked crestfallen. “I will never get my parents help me pay for mine, if they find out I invited you girls for that little cruise.”
A cruise that had ended rather quickly at the end of the driveway in intimate contact with some trashcans.
Three calculating faces turned around
“Well, don’t look at me. I’m a lowly apprentice. I’m happy to be able to pay for room and food… and you know I cannot ask my parents for money anymore.”
I looked at Teddy. “That leaves you.”
“I… don’t have that much. I already had to ask Mom for the cash for, you know, the credit card thing. Sorry, sis.”
“We’re deeeeeeeead!” Dora, Mika and Melanie howled in unison.
“Well… there still might be a chance.” I reached for my jacket. “You could earn some money.”
“How? Babysitting? Delivering newspapers? Walking dogs? Go-Go-Dancing? We need the money before Dad is back home!”
“You’re not too far off with your last idea. Andrea was involved in, ehm, a pageant of sorts. But I didn’t think you would want to…”
Dora groaned silently as I dropped the newspaper add on the bed.
TITS! TITS!! TITS!!! The Foundry presents: the 5th annual contest for Miss Boobilicous Bavaria!!!! First Prize: 1000 Euros!!!!! All ages above 18 are welcome in the quest for Bavaria’s biggest bouncing boobies!
The girls gathered over the paper.
“That’s the first thing I hear about that,” Mika said, “You wouldn’t have been trying to keep that for yourself, would you?” She grinned broadly at Dora and me.
“No!” Dora exclaimed. “It’s just… Well, I don’t know. It just… didn’t feel right. All those people, staring at me… and that place…”
I knew exactly what she was feeling, even better than herself. But I tried to make light of it.
“You are just worried you wouldn’t win.”
“But we could win… it would be just the thing we need.” Mika’s spirit rose. “Between the three of us, we’re guaranteed to win! This Friday? That’s perfect! Pity we don’t have the time to bring our little dance routine up to date for Mel. Oh, that would be so much fun! For all of us… well, except for you, little brother. You’re much too young for such things.”
She started to jump up and down and began to sing “I just want your extra time…”
Teddy huffed. “I’m not much too young. Two months, just two months!”
“…and your... TITS! Hey, Melons, do you dance at all?”
The newest addition to the Boob Troop had been silently staring at the paper since I had presented this proposal.
Mika danced over to her and poked her in the side. “To shy to show your tiddies for a good cause? You’re not a prude, are you? I mean, just look at your mom…”
Mel’s temper flared up: “I’m NOT my mother! But that’s not… I’m not… I can’t…”
Mika wouldn’t let go. “… can’t let us down now. We’re sisters! Cousins! Well… bosom buddies.”
“Yeah, sure, but…”
“Nothing but! Remember: you had the wheel. Can’t wiggle out of that! Accept your responsibility and bare those boobies!”
Melanie threw her hands up. “Stop it! I’ll do it. It’s just… aw, never mind. I’ll do it. But I’m…”
“…that’s the spirit!” Mika bounced around on overdrive. “One for all, all for one! We’re the three Breastekeers! You’re not afraid to lose to Dora? Or tiny little me? Nah, you’ll get your tits out for… for… for friendship!”
…
Dora’s little vintage Fiat was barely big enough to fit the four of us. It was still early in the evening. No rain, quite warm, barely any traffic… a pleasant fun ride on a pleasant night.
But the mood was a bit gloomy.
Dora had been quiet most of the time.
“Second thoughts?” I asked her. “Bad memories?”
“Of the Foundry? No, not really. Or, not much memory at all. We have been here for carnival, I remember that. I know I was supposed to do a show, with Andi. And I think we did. But beyond that, I don’t recall much, except being horribly sick the next day.”
I didn’t offer any further details, but Mika’s interest was woken. “Now that must have been a party. And a show? What kind of show? You never told me. A boob show? Did you win? Surely you won!”
Then her enthusiasm encountered a huge bout of doubt. “What do you think the competition will be like tonight? Andrea is on the jury, right? She’s not competition. But do you think she will rather favor us or be extra harsh on us?”
“Dunno. Could be both. Andi can be a bitch.”
“Yeah. But still… I mean… who could beat us? Or at least you two? Or Mel? Oh, we just have to win!”
They fell silent again.
“It’ll all be fine,” I tried to cheer them up, “She’s right… who’s there to beat your bust? Except for Mel’s mom, of course.”
That joke fell flat.
“Do you think she… I mean, she wouldn’t… would she?” Mel sounded nervous.
“Gods, I hope not,” Dora exclaimed, “But then, she’s much too old for these things. And didn’t she have some sort of business date tonight? She was rather happy you spend the night with us. So don’t worry, it’ll all be fine. I hope.”
…
The club was packed… a good Friday night crowd, but not all were here for the pageant which was set in a closed-off side venue. At the front entrance, a small group of women had gathered around a counter.
“See? Andi was right… we can sign in right here!”
Mika sprinted ahead to join the short line of girls filling out forms and presenting their cards to the young clerk.
“Err… what are they doing?” Mel asked in a small voice.
“Register and age check, it seems.” Dora responded
“Oh… fuck!” Mel turned on her heels.
“Hey! Hey, what’s the matter?” Dora caught up with her after just a few steps.
“I didn’t know they would do that! I hoped they wouldn’t do that! My birthday is not until two weeks!”
Dora stopped her. “What? And you didn’t think to tell us that? But the rules clearly said… how did you think to pass?”
Melanie jabbered. “Well… I have this.” She held up a small plastic card. “It’s a fake driver’s license. I got it so I could go and have a beer with my friends, only I didn’t really like the beer and I never used it again and I don’t know if…”
Dora grabbed her arm. “…it has to work. If we go… you go, too. Come on!”
…
“Hey, hey, no children, even if you are stacked.” the clerk announced.
“I AM eighteen, jerk!” Mika slammed her ID card on the counter. With her diminutive stature, she was used to this… though her schoolgirl outfit and the pigtails in her short blonde hair didn’t really help.
“Oops, no offence meant, Missy!” The clerk took her data and handed her the registration form.
“And what’s that meant to be?” He looked at Mel and her plastic chip.
“That’s a driver’s license. She’s American.” Dora explained for the tongue-tied Mel, “They don’t have ID cards there, but, see, it has her date of birth right there. She’s… what? Err… twenty-two.”
“I don’t… I’m not sure that’s allowed…”
Dora stopped him short. “You do want to see what’s under that shirt, don’t you?” She pointed to Mel’s filled-to-capacity hoodie.
“Fine. In you go, Miss America. And you? What’s your problem?”
Dora courtly handed over her card and breathed in. Her half open jacket allowed a perfect view on her massive cleavage. “100% certified problem free.”
“Err… just go in… and have a nice night,” was all the poor guy could respond.
…
“Phew, made it. But seriously… twenty-two?”
“What’s twenty-two?” Mika had rejoined the bunch, and Dora brought her up to speed.
“You need to be twenty-one to buy alcohol in the States, and I had the card for a year”, Mel explained.
Mika wasn’t satisfied with that. “So you are…? Ooh, naughty girl! You have some nerves! That could have blown up the whole thing.”
“Hey… I can leave if you don’t want me here.” Melanie countered quickly.
“Stop it, you two! Don’t make me even more nervous than I already am.” Dora tried to intervene before the tempers got out of control… but then an outside interruption came to her aid.
“My, my, if that isn’t, err, Doris… and her beau.” The newcomer dismissed me without a further glance, instead turning his full attention to the three girls.
“And you brought some friends. Good, good! Are you all participating? Even better!”
The fat little man bobbed up and down, making his double chins jump with him.
“Oh, DJ… Two Tons, wasn’t it?” I wasn’t certain just how much Dora remembered about our carnival outing, but she sure wasn’t happy to be called “Doris”.
“TonTon”, the overweight DJ corrected her, also a bit indignant. “But you can call me Tony. You’ve earned it, Booty Queen!” His 500 watts smile was up again.
Before Dora could figure out that remark, he was already herding the girls across the corridor.
“This way to the change rooms, my lovelies! Only for the girls, I fear, dear boy! And the organizers, of course. That’s me, hah hah!”
And off they went. I hoped the three of them could manage this fat maniac. I paid for my own entrance to the main event and waited for things to happen.
…
The friends were greeted by sheer chaos. The old factory’s locker room was filled with a gaggle of talking, laughing, singing or dancing women. Not all of them seemed to be participants, some girls were there as moral support.
DJ TonTon had to call for attention a number of times. “Listen up, my beauties! That’s how it’s going to be. General introduction of the whole line-up, then some music to increase the suspense. Next, I’ll call you up individually. We’ll start with some small talk, and off with the clothes. We’ll measure them: Circumference, upright, hanging, weight… a bit of candy for the audience. Then you can dance a bit or shake them or whatever you like… just remember: keep it above the belt!
At the end, an interlude with more music, all of you together again, jury will confer and present their decision and you’ll get your crown. Simple. Any questions? No? Fine! Then I’m off to stir up the crowd. And never forget: you all are winners!”
He bowed comically, smiled at all the female opulence around him and turned to strut out to the main hall.
The chaotic chatter started again. Dora, Mika and Melanie retreated into a quieter corner and took a first glimpse at the competition. Only half a dozen of those present seemed to be participants, of varied ages and sizes. There was a young adult with nice round boobs, a small one with an impressive pair, a middle aged woman who showed some massive cleavage, and…
“You!” said a voice filled with contempt. “I should have known you wouldn’t be missing out on this. Oh, and there’s your mini sidekick. And Number three… where’s the scrawny one? Have you replaced her? With a little savage jungle girl?”
“Who are you calling a savage, bitch?” Melanie was about to charge forward, but Dora held her back.
“Hi Jessy. Been a while. You look… healthy.”
The speaker was a young woman, not much older than the three girls, of Amazonian physique. Broad face, heavy brows, square chin. Her shirt covered muscular arms, a broad torso… and a very large round bosom.
“And you look fat, Doormat! You have no chance. You never had a chance against me! I’m going to win tonight, and neither you, nor your fat darkie can do anything about it! Out of my way!” She snarled at one of the bystanders and stomped to the other side of the room.
“Who in all Hell’s name is that monster?”, Mel asked, looking at the pale Dora and trembling Mika.
“Jessica the Jerk. Our old school bully. She couldn’t cope with not being the best and brightest… and bustiest… and tormented Dora and me horribly. I haven’t seen her for a while… she was a few years above us. It seems she, hm, grew a bit.”
“Into a freak, Mik! Hey, don’t be scared. All for one, remember?” Mel tried to calm her still shaking friend.
“Scared? I’m not scared! I’m FURIOUS! Who does this fucking bitch think she is? We will smash her! We will FLATTEN her! Right, Dora?”
“Dora?”
Dora was giggling manically. “I always thought she was mental. Have you seen the size of these things? I wonder where she found a surgeon for these monstrosities.”
“But she’s not as big as you, is she? I mean, you will still beat her, will you? We still have a chance, right?”
“I…”
“Well… no plastic boobs can be better than your all-natural beauties. Come on, we have to get changed.”
Mika grabbed a bunch of the provided plain-white oversized T-shirts. “You, too, Mel. Don’t let big bad Jessy frighten you.”
Melanie was still fuming. “Frightened, pah! She can’t frighten me.” Deftly she pulled her sweater over her head.
Mika got her first glimpse at Melon’s bra-encased melons. “Fuck me! Oh yeah, baby, we will win this!”
…
Whatever grudges I held against that fat little DJ, I had to admit that he knew his job. He played music from the 80’s and 90’s, guiding the crowd through the classic and old-fashioned dances. Finally, the volume was turned down, and TonTon announced the start of the competition. “Ah, the 80’s. What a great decade that was! Great music, skinny jeans and big hair… and silicone. The material for everything… even tits! Do you like silicone tits?”
Shouts of “No!” and “Yes!” and a few “Who cares?”
“But today it’s different! Today we don’t discriminate! Today we will worship the huge, pendulous, natural breasts of the Earth Mother, or the fantastic creations of modern technology! BRING IN THE VIRGINS!”
The audience cheered as the contestants paraded in, some nervous, some giggling… some bold, some caught by a bit of stage fright. Nine women had registered, older, younger… and just a bit too young.
Their to-be-evaluated treasures were still hidden under the oversized shirts, but they did well presenting their other physical advantages. Limber legs, wide luscious hips, flowing manes of shining hair or muscular physique.
Mika and Melanie did their best not to be outshone. Dora on the other hand tried to keep hidden behind the rest of the line-up.
Mika pushed her forward. “What’s the matter?” – “Nothing, really. Just a bad case of déjà-vu.”
“A large cheering crowd clamoring to see your mams? Can’t have been a bad memory. Come ON! We have to win this, dammit!”
Dora forced a smile onto her lips.
…
“Look at all these curvy beauties! Isn’t that a sight to behold! Who of you could choose between all those gloriousness? But you don’t have to. Let me introduce our incorruptible jury for tonight!”
The fat little man bowed towards the other side of the stage.
“First, Dr. Feinschlief, our honorable notary, who will make sure that everything is according to the rules!” He winked at the small elderly man, whose spectacles showed a tendency to fog over.
“Second, Mr. Albert Alberti, editor of the famed “Fronts Out” magazine and sponsor of the grand price.” Also a man of advanced age, perfectly groomed and slightly reminiscent of Hugh Heffner.
“Third, Ms. Andrea Hoffmann, our generous sponsor for the runner-up prices this night.”
Andi beamed at the three friends and even gave a little wave.
“Fourth, an honored guest from beyond the Great Water, a local girl who made it big, really big, in Hollywood: Fräulein Wunder!”
Gundi’s eyes were aimed like target lasers at her daughter. She didn’t smile.
Mel went pale and groaned, “Her? How? Why? A business event, she said!”
“No need for our contestants to worry… the two ladies are not in the competition. More’s the pity!”, DJ TonTon joked.
“And fifth and final juror… why, that’s humble me!” He pirouetted and bowed deeply.
“Now let’s give our lovely girls a final moment of respite… and then we’ll get to the naked truth!”
The contesting girls were walked from the stage again, to be replaced with a bunch of extremely skinny go-go-dancers. TonTon wanted to keep the audience’s expectations focused.
…
“What are we going to do?” Mel asked despondently. “My mom! She knows my real age!”
“Perhaps she won’t say anything?” Mika suggested. “Come on, we need you! With all those other titties around, my chances are 50:50… and even Dora might lose to Monster-Jessy… but you’ll be guaranteed. Dora, help me!”
But Dora was just standing there, muttering to herself. “First that DJ, then Jessica, now Aunt Gundi… I knew this was a bad idea. This is not going to end well.”
Melanie pulled herself together.
“Well, if she hasn’t snitched on me by now… okay, I’m fine. I’ll go on!”
“That’s the spirit! Chin up, chest out! You, too, Dora! Sheesh, do I have to do it all on my own?”
…
My stomach dropped when I saw Aunt Gundi on the stage. She scanned the crowd and found me eyes. A questioning look. Disapproval? Anger? I tried to look back in an encouraging, pleading way. She frowned… but then a smile appeared on her face. A cunning little smile, and her mouth formed something like “OK”. Or “I’ll get you.”
But she didn’t raise a hue and cry among her fellow jury-members. That was… hopeful.
TonTon returned, together with the first contestant. He was building up the suspense… she was the about the smallest of the bunch.
Bea, 23, trained retail saleswoman, giggled nervously as she responded to his questions. No, she hadn’t done anything like that before. Yes, she did have a boyfriend. Yes, she liked it when he played with her boobs. No, she… what? Between her tits? NO!
Laughter from the audience.
He emptied a pitcher of water over her shirt, and she gave a little scream. The thin wet fabric clang to her curves.
F-Cups, she explained after she had removed the wet shirt, and TonTon started to fumble with the measuring tape.
She seemed smaller than the Dora of my memories, two years back now. But I admit my perspective had become a bit warped.
The crowd hooted when she bounced her pretty titties around for the final lap.
Mika came next. TonTon feigned surprise at her repeated “Yes, I am 18.”, but then she gave in and played along with her “I’m just an innocent little girl with big honkers” routine.
The DJ wasn’t content with criss-crossing her huge breast with the tape. He got out a set of kitchen scales and had Mika sit down in from of them. She was happy to oblige to this test, lifted her heavy breasts into the measuring cups and gave a surprised yelp when the scales showed a nice 2.5 kilos on each side. The camera guy went in for a close-up, transferring the view of her pert nipples poking from the flesh filled cups to the large screen hanging over the stage.
Number 3 was a snotty almost-30, whose E-Cups were obviously enhanced. She was happy with that size, she said as she presented the perfectly modeled globes, and didn’t want to be any bigger. She wasn’t a freak, she added haughtily with a glance towards the two women in the jury, and was almost booed from the stage by the audience.
Number 4 was tall, a bit on the heavy side and dark as ebony.
TonTon joked: “But you aren’t from Bavaria, are you?”
The crowd laughed rowdily when the girl responded in broad Berlin dialect: “Nee, det bin ik nich. Is det een Problem?” (No, I’m not. Is that a problem?)
Her large dark areolae shone through the fabric as TonTon poured the water over her… and of course it wasn’t a problem.
Even if her breasts looked smaller in contrast to her body, she sported one cup size and half a pound more than Mika.
The fifth contestant had brought her own fan club. A handful of rowdy men and women directly in front of the stage cheered and clapped when she walked forward, her heavy tits swaying with every step.
Sabine was 43, as she proudly proclaimed, and loved to show off her toned, muscular body that had given birth to four children. “They grew three sizes with each new baby.”, she declared.
Her massive dangling tits hung down to the hem of her tight jeans, crowned with huge dark areolae and nipples as thick and long as TonTon’s thumb. Yes, he made a direct comparison, and the camera did its best to show all the details.
“Four kids… well, they sure didn’t go hungry.”, joked the DJ as he tried to lift one of these heavy udders.
The woman laughed, “I have enough for all!” She wrenched her tit from TonTon’s probing hands, gave them a practiced squeeze and milk shot from her engorged nipple.
“Don’t waste it, Sabine!”, came a shout from her personal entourage. Sabine advanced to the edge of the stage, knelt and let her long fat milkers hang down. A heavyset man from her group reached up and latched to one of the teets, a younger fellow next to him to the other.
“They are permitted”, explained the laughing woman to the astonished audience. “That’s my eldest and my husband. Enough now, boys!”
She withdrew her bounty from the suckling men, bowed to the audience and went backstage, her swinging saggers still dripping milk.
Number 6 on the list seemed extremely cowed by either the performance or the figure of her predecessor. Just beyond 30, a bit chubby, but with nice full H-cup titties, she was nervous, almost too shy to answer any question and finally developed a heavy hiccup. Her firm breasts jumped with every “hic”, which only made her more nervous and self-conscious. TonTon graciously cut her performance short.
The contrast to Number 7 couldn’t have been bigger. Full of confidence this young woman stomped onto the stage. She was tall and broad shouldered, and the way her shirt stuck out pronounced clearly that she was enhanced. Massively enhanced. Her breasts were as big as basketballs, and just as round and firm.
She towered arrogantly over the much shorter DJ, but TonTon didn’t have any problems addressing his initial questions to her mammoth globes.
21 years she was old, and went by the name of “Jugsy Jess”. Yes, that was her stage name. She was a professional exotic dancer, and everyone here was welcome to see her show. Which was the best in the world, because she had the best tits in the world… and she would continue to improve on her current 6500 ccm. Each one, of course! How much bigger she would get? Well… until she was satisfied, of course.
She didn’t wait for TonTon to continue his spiel, grabbed the pitcher of water and emptied it over her chest. The nipples sat almost sideways on her enormously blown-up balloons. Chest out, she strutted over the stage, bouncing her wobblers.
“You wanna see them? You do wanna see them! Tell me how much you want to see them!”, she teased the audience. On the frenzied response of “Yes, show us your tits!” she grabbed the wet T-shirt and ripped it apart. First, a good shaking… and the crowd howled. Then, she went on her knees and leaned forward, pressing the mighty mounds into the floor. Slowly she crawled forwards, to the edge.
Teasing. Withdrawing. Offering. Shying away. And, finally, hoisting her gargantuan set over the edge and into the hands of the wild crowd. Everyone tried to get a feel of these monsters, until she finally rose again, spun around and danced to the back of the stage.
“THESE are tits. You won’t see any better anywhere. And definitely not today!”
A final spin, a final shake, and a hiss, at the other girls, still audible over the crowd. “Beat that, bitches.”
DJ TonTon did his best to calm the atmosphere after that performance.
“Now that was certainly something else. Something special. Something huge. But we’re not done for tonight. Not by far. Can we top that? I say we can!”
The next in line was Dora. My beautiful, radiant, mischievous, buxom Dora… but right now she didn’t appear to enjoy the outing. Her gait was wooden as she stepped forward. She threw a glance back to the women already waiting in line and held it for a moment on Jugsy.
I also noticed the look that came back… it was one of pure hatred.
I didn’t know what had happened between the two, but this short exchange seemed to give Dora the resolve she needed.
A smile appeared on her face as she approached the DJ, and she greeted him like an old friend.
Yes, it had been so long since they had seen each other, and, yes, she had grown even bigger in the meantime. Oh, yes, for the audience: she was 19 and her name was Dora. And she was all natural.
She gave her unfettered bosom a little shake, which was enough to send quivers through the masses of breastflesh… and evoke stunned noises of disbelief from the audience. The typical Dora-reaction.
Oh, yes, she was a big girl in all regards that mattered, she said.
She was about the same height as TonTon, which put him in the dilemma of whether to look into her eyes or down at her swelling curves.
She was from a big family, she continued at his questioning. She had relatives that were even bigger than her. Yes, really! The audience murmured in disbelief and I saw Aunt Gundi suppress a laugh.
How big were they? How much did they weigh? TonTon tried to keep to his spiel, while the audience had taken up a chant of “Tits out! Tits out!”
Dora was happy to oblige. “It’s much easier to measure them without that stupid shirt.” She jerked up the top in one fluid motion. A motion that transferred into her gigantic soft flesh pillows. She had to reach down and bring them back under control.
“Sorry. That tends to happen when you have tits that size, that are (breathe in for emphasis) all natural.”
Andrea had the honors of applying the measuring tape. Just for the show, of course: Andi knew Dora’s measurements by heart. But she did her job. The camera moved in for a close-up, almost touching the soft flesh.
“124cm” Andrea and the numbers on the screen proclaimed.
“That seems about right,” Dora proclaimed nonchalantly. “My bras are 75Qs, custom made by this very talented woman here.”
“And how heavy are these babies?” came a call from the audience.
DJ TonTon brought back a bathroom scale. No simple kitchen scales for tits of that enormity. With exaggerated care, Dora placed her left meat mountain on the scale. “This one is just a bit smaller,” she said as the numbers settled on 5760g. “Just a bit”. The right came in at 5880g.
“More than 11kg. What’s it like, to carry such a weight around all the time?”, TonTon asked.
“You get used to it,” Dora laughed, “You surely would know that.”
That brought a laughter from the audience, and even the fat DJ laughed and made his big belly jiggle.
“And I love their weight! It makes you truly feel that you have big tits, and I love to have big tits. You can have so much fun with them.”
Dora cradled her huge bosom in her arms. “Hm. Soft and warm and heavy. Yep. I love my boobs. What more is there to say?”
With that, she pulled her shirt back down and turned away. The crowd went “More, MORE!”, but she just gave them a coy look.
“You want more? Just you wait… you ain’t seen nothing yet.”
“I still am bigger than you!” hissed Jugsy from the back. Dora just smiled, and joined the line-up, as far as she could from the massively enhanced woman.
…
Melanie waited patiently behind the stage. She had expected to be the last. She always had been the last to be picked. For games, for sports, for clubs. For dances. Especially for dances.
Through the curtains, she could hear the audience cheer, the funny fat little DJ do his routine, the other girls softly chatting.
Right now it was Dora’s turn. She had been so nervous, but her anger at The Monster had given her a grim determination
She could hear her now, laughing and bantering with the audience.
“Do you want something to drink?”
The spotty youth who operated the lighting equipment held out a cup of water. “Yes, thank you.”
“It’ll be your turn soon. Don’t worry… they haven’t eaten anyone yet.” – “I know. Thank you.”
Her turn. Soon. Then she would have to face the crowd. And her mom. Damn her! Why did she have to show up here, now?
But then… hadn’t her mother always told her she had to make her own decisions, her own mistakes?
She had to do it. By sheer size, The Monster would beat Dora. She knew. She had an eye for that. So it was all up to her.
Spotty looked up from his instruments. “Aaaand… the big one leaves… now go and show them what you got!”
She would. Show them all. And then she remembered that last line of her mother’s talk: “… and accept your own responsibility.”
…
“You ain’t seen nothing yet.”
Dora’s final words rang through the hall.
Melanie. She would be the last.
I hadn’t had a chance to evaluate her assets firsthand yet. Not that I was hell-bent on it. It wasn’t that I was addicted to huge tits or something. Not like Teddy. No. I was just… curious.
Melanie didn’t put out. The way she dressed made it difficult to assert her real size... beyond: really big.
Seriously really big.
Just curious. And there’s Dora up on that stage. Remember that, boy!
DJ TonTon started into his final introduction. “And now’s the time for our final contestant. Our last two girls have shown us a new meaning of the word ‘big’. So… can we top that? What do you think? CAN WE TOP THAT?”
The crowd went silent as Mel entered the stage. She staggered for a second, momentarily blinded by the spotlights. Then she went forward, her smile fixed on her face, more a show of determination than happiness.
“So, our final beauty for tonight. What’s your name, beautiful?”
“I’m Melanie. Melons for my friends.”
“I can guess why. And where are you from? Not Berlin, I assume?”
“I’m from the USA. I just recently moved here.”
“Your German is excellent, if I may say so. And how old are you?”
I noticed that Mel was looking at the jury, at Aunt Gundi. And she, in turn, was staring daggers at her daughter. Now was the moment of truth.
“I’m twenty-two”, Mel said with a firm voice.
“A great age! And I can already see why you are one of our contestants tonight. You really have a huge pair, don’t you?”
Mel raised her chin and looked around, a challenge to all, to her mother, to the audience, to the other participants.
“Oh yes! I have the biggest pair of tits in this hall!”
And with a streak of honesty she added, “… that you will get to see.”
TonTon turned, grabbed the last pitcher of water and poured it over her. “THEN SHOW THEM TO US!”
Covered up, Mel had already seemed gigantic. With the water turning the fabric translucent, she was, I don’t know… brobdignagian? Her large breasts hung almost to the hem of the massively oversized shirt. But they weren’t saggy, empty, flat. They hung wide and full, massive and round. Like her mother’s.
‘Her mother’s daughter,’ Dora had called her. Aunt Gundi at Dora’s age had been a lot bigger than Dora. And now Melanie proved to be her mother’s daughter.
For a moment, I looked away from these spectacular mammaries. I found Dora’s eyes, looking triumphant. Aunt Gundi looked… proud. Andrea, hm… hungry? My boss, always looking for a new set of tits to play with. She hadn’t had her chance yet.
Meanwhile, TonTon had continued with his script.
“So, how big are they? What bra size do you need to hold up these marvels?”
“Err… I dunno. All my bras are tailor made. A W-cup perhaps?”
“W-cup?”
“Yes, for ‘Who knows?’”
The crowd roared with laughter.
“And how much do they weigh? Do you know that?”
“Not really. It’s a bit difficult to weigh them.”
“Well, that’s what we are here for!”
TonTon went for the bathroom scales again.
“You need to get them out. Is that ok? OK FOR EVERYONE?”
The crowd roared with cheer.
“Yes, please, the water is getting a bit cold.”
The moment of truth. The final moment of truth. Melanie got completely rid of her soaked shirt. Bare chested she stood before us. Proudly showing off her wet dark skin. Small droplets of water ran slowly down the slopes of her breasts, stopped for a moment hanging on her stubby peaks, just a few centimeters above her waistband.
“Let’s measure them first!” TonTon waved for Andrea and her tape measure. But this time, he was not shy to get hands-on himself. It took the two of them a minute to wrap the tape around Mel’s spectacular chest.
“138cm. As good as I can get it here.” Andrea proclaimed.
“And look at the size of her areolae! Let’s measure them, too! That’s 18, no 20cm across!”
They went crazy on Mel’s breasts. Length, from collarbone to the nipples. 36cm. Circumference of one breast. 64cm.
“Weight! Weight!” roared the crowd.
“Alright… let’s weigh them.”
It proved difficult to get a weight from the personal scales. The keen camera guy gave us all the dirty details: Mel’s tits were just too big. When they were placed completely on the scales, they hid the display.
“No problem, folks”, declared DJ TonTon and gave a short command to a stagehand. “We have prepared for all eventualities”. With that, they carried in a large beam balance set. “See… we can fit all sizes!”
Mel placed one of her enormous flesh mountains into one cup.
“Sit easy, girl. Let’s start with 5kg.”
TonTon hefted a large iron weight into the second cup. Nothing moved. Of course nothing moved.
“Let’s add a kilo.” Another, smaller, weight. Still no reaction.
“Another!” Nothing.
“One more. Whoops… that’s too much.”
He replaced the 1kg with a smaller one, observed the reaction, adjusted the weights. All under the faithful eyes of the camera, all followed by stunned silence in the audience.
Finally the scales balanced. A bit wobbly, but TonTon declared the result. 7.8kg. He didn’t repeat the experiment with the other side… what’s a kilogram more or less between friends.
“That makes it official. These are the biggest and heaviest whoppers in the house! Now there just one more question to answer: can you shake ‘em? MUSIC!”
The music started again, and Mel got up to dance. Slowly at first, but still enough to make her fat boobs swing. Faster, she got into the rhythm. A few skips send the tits flying and slapping back on her stomach.
She kept it up for a minute or two, until sweat ran down her skin. “Enough,” she gasped, “that’s enough. Hope you liked it, folks!”
“Oh, they did, baby, they did!” TonTon guided her to the back and beckoned to the other women. “And now we will take a short break. For us, to ponder this hard decision, for you, to calm down a bit. Just a bit. The show is not over yet… so DON’T LEAVE!”
And he followed the crew backstage.
…
The music started again, the go-go-dancers came back on stage. I wasn’t interested and tried to make my way to the back to my friends.
“Hey, this area is off-limits for guests!”, an employee tried to stop me, but from behind him came the well-known voice of my girl. “It’s OK, he’s with me.”
The guard gave a short: “If you say so. But don’t try anything!” and went on his way.
I went for a quick hug. “See, you did it. Nothing to worry about.”
Dora had cooled down by now, and remained skeptical. “The hard part is yet to come. I fear Jessy will beat me. She IS bigger than me. Well… she made herself bigger than me.”
She explained her relationship with “Jugsy”, supported by a chattering Mika and an exhausted Melanie. I laughed at “Jessy The Monster”.
“Pah!”, Mika went on. “Yes, she might be bigger than you, Dora, with her blown-up tits, but she can’t beat Mel here.”
Dora couldn’t stop being Dora though. “I do feel a bit bad for her. She always tried to outcompete us, back in school. And now she went to all these lengths and had to run into Mega-Melons here. We should look for her and apologize. Well, offer a bit of comfort.”
Mika’s refusal got overruled, so off we went. I stayed back when the girls looked into the locker rooms. “Hm… she’s not here. Where could she have gone?”
We went down the dimly lit corridor.
“She’s sitting somewhere, crying her eyes out”, Mika commented spitefully.
“Don’t be a bitch, Mika”, Dora chided her. “If she does, we need to make up with her even more. Hey, do you hear that?”
From a nearby room, soft sounds could be heard. Something that indeed sounded a bit like crying.
Carefully, Dora opened the door, just a bit. “Jessy?”, she asked softly.
And just a second later, loud and angry: “JESSY! YOU BITCH!” She yanked to door open, and we all saw her.
Jessy the Monster. She was lying on top of the little notary, with his face buried in her deep cleavage. Her mouth was closed around the erect cock of the Hugh Heffner guy… and DJ TonTon stood behind her, pounding her ass.
He noticed us. “Wait, it’s not…”, but Dora had already shut the door with a bang and turned around.
“This sheming, backstabbing bitch! She’s fucking the jury!”
“The males, at least. All of them at once. Wow, why didn't I think…”
“Oh, shut the fuck up, Mika!” Dora was livid. “Don’t you realize what this means?”
“Hi, girls, you look upset. No victory dance?” A curt voice cut off the conversation. Aunt Gundi.
Melanie, close to tear, ran to her mother. “She’s stealing my victory, Mom! I beat her, and she’s stealing it! That’s not fair!”
It took a moment for Gundi to sort out the three girls now talking all at once. “Ah, so that’s why the gentlemen all disappeared so suddenly. Well, we’ll have to talk about that. As we will about ‘fairness’, dearest daughter.”
…
“It’s not what it looked like”, said a small voice behind us. TonTon, now again half-decently dressed, started to speak, but Dora just had enough.
“YOU!” She lunged past the DJ at Jessy. “To think I felt sorry for you! You ARE a monster!”
Jessy was a head taller than Dora. Heavier. More muscular. But she had nothing to counter my girl’s fury. Dora’s fists hammered at her body, her arms, her face, over and over again, until a strong hand grabbed her and drew her back.
“Dora! Enough! That’s enough, you will stop it at once! Shame on you!” Aunt Gundi used her full bulk to force back her niece.
“Whatever happened, this is not the way to behave. Whatever she did, this is still a competition and you will act this way. You leave me no choice. You are disqualified for unsportsmanlike action.”
Jessy, her lip bloodied, sniggered. Too soon.
“And you! Trying to curry favors that way? Disqualified for unsportsmanlike behavior!” She glared at the three men. Her “And don’t you dare to object!” was met with submissive silence.
She turned to Melanie. “You… disqualified! You know why. DON’T OBJECT!”
“And you…!” She turned to me, but ended with just “Ah… men!”
“Now let’s pick up Andrea and bring this travesty to an end. There are still six women who have done nothing wrong and deserve their prices. MOVE!”
…
We managed to leave before the enraged crowd could storm the stage, after the disqualification of the three front runners was announced.
The journey back wasn’t filled with elation.
Mika especially couldn’t understand it.
“Her! Why did they pick her? She’s old and gross and breastfeeds her husband! On stage! Why her?”
“She was bigger than you. And I guess mom was in her ‘let’s teach them all a lesson’ mood. Sorry you got caught in the crossfire.”
“Sorry? What about the money? What are we going to do now, Mel? Can you tell me what we are going to do now?”
“Well… I guess it’s time to accept our own responsibility.”
…
“Dad, I’m really sorry. I wanted to impress my friends. It was stupid and I should have known better. I’ll make up for it”, Mika said.
“I am sorry, too. I bragged about my driving license, but I didn’t have the experience with manual and that kind of power. We’ll pay for the damage”, Melanie added.
“We all should have known better. I should have known better. It was irresponsible. We are lucky no one was hurt. I’m sorry, and we’ll get the money”, Dora finished the apology.
Mika’s father looked at the three repentant girls standing before him like in front of an execution command.
“It’s good to see you own your mistakes. You should have considered that beforehand. But don’t worry about the money… that’s why I have insurance.”