FICTION - Dora, A love story

The end of your last chapter seemed very promising for our male protagonist: Melanie, Mika, Dora and Andrea. Some group action with 4 very busty girls could be fun. Are you planning to carry this on?
 
Hi friends, I know it's been a while. Sometimes you get stuck and have to go back and start all over again. But now the next chapter is finished, and it's long one. I hope it's also one you will enjoy.

Merry Christmas, everyone!
 
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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.”
 
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Part 43: Remember, remember…

An angel soared, high up over the city.
Her hair sparkled like solid gold, her white robe shone like the pristine snow, and her clear voice rang out over the gathered crowd.
“Ihr Herrn und Frau’n, die Ihr einst Kinder wart, Ihr Kleinen, am Beginn der Lebensfahrt, ein jeder, der sich heute freut und morgen wieder plagt: Hört alle zu, was Euch das Christkind sagt!“

Melanie looked up to the girl on the balcony, her eyes big in childlike wonder. “Wow. This is so beautiful! This is all so beautiful!”
Her head turned, trying to take in all of the lights, the ornaments, the colorful stalls… all at once, if she could. All the people milling around. The children, their eyes shining with the same joy.
And the smells. Candied almonds, roast sausage, warm bread… and a strong, spicy aroma of…

“Glühwein. Hot wine with spices. You have to try it!” I turned to the vendor: “Five, please!”

Melanie looked a bit skeptical at her big mug, while the others greedily grabbed their own share of the steaming hot liquid.

“Go on. It’s fine. You’re 18 now, you can drink it. Though Glühwein would even be legal by 16. Now, you could even have it with a shot of rum if you wanted?”

Mel shook her head, took a sip from her cup and her face lit up. “Ohhh, that’s wonderful! Like a hot bath on a cold day, only from the inside!”
She took another, larger sip.
“Ouch, perhaps a bit too hot”, she said with a pained smile.

Slowly we continued our stroll through the world-famous Nuremberg Christkindlesmarkt. I tried to play the cool and nonchalant host… but it was my first time also. Not that the Christmas market in our hometown wasn’t also bright and gaudy… but here it was just on a different level.
We passed over the large plaza, now a labyrinth of little stalls and booths.
We visited the “Schöner Brunnen”, the massive gothic fountain at the edge of the market.
“There’s a legend… one of the rings here in the latticework can be turned. It’s a good luck charm to do so.” The girls lined up to take their turn.

“You don’t need luck?”, Melanie asked me.

“It’s a special charm, you see… it’s for children.”

“You think I’m a child?” Her temper flared up for a moment.

“No. Not for children to do. For children to… get.”

She needed a moment to parse that. “Oh. Oh! You….!”

“Relax, Melons… it’s just an old folk talk!”, Dora laughed… but she went for a second turn. “But you’ll never know, right?”

...

“Pity the castle’s closed at night. It’s a fantastic view from up there.”
Mel was impressed enough by the massive sandstone structure, the tall towers, the high roofs.
“Now that’s a fucking castle! They had a castle there, in England, but it was just a few walls and rubble on an empty hill.”

“Where you went to school? You have to tell us all about it. You never do!” Mika piped in.

“Yeah, all the trouble with boys. We want to know all about it.”

Even Teddy dared to add his voice. “Yes, what was that about?”

“Oh, shut up, nosy bitches! Do you ever think of something other than… that?”

“Sometimes. When I’m bored. Which I like to avoid.” Mika grinned and grabbed her moody classmate by the waist. “And you should relax a bit. Perhaps we should have another Glühwein on the way home?”



We had, and a tiny bit tipsy, we finally made our way back to my uncle’s cozy little apartment.

“Too bad Uncle Paul’s not here. He could do us girls, all together!”
“Do us?” Mel yelped. She wasn’t used to alcohol, and the other girls had to steady her up the stairs. She glanced around, as if she feared being assaulted by strange men any second in the narrow staircase.

“Relax, Mel. I mean, he could take photos of us together. Just nice, friendly photos. He’s an amaaaazing photographer. He took some photos of me, and they were amaaaaaaaaazing! Oops!”

Dora was feeling the last Glühwein just as much, and Mika wasn’t sober either. Together, the three fell down on the large cushy sofa.

“Just a few totally innocent photos, hihihi. Hm… he might still have copies around. Hey, you know what? You tell us about your school in England, and I tell you the story of my photoshoot.”

I groaned silently. Dora was going full exhibitionist again… but I had to admit I was interested just as much.
Teddy was as well and nodded enthusiastically.

“Yeah, come on, Melons! I’ll share the tale of our last New Year’s party in return… “, Mika started, then looked at her brother, grinning deviously, “… though maybe I shouldn’t. It’s… a bit indecent!”

“I don’t know. It’s embarrassing!”, Mel tried to escape the inquisition.

“Oh, please! What could you be embarrassed about. Your mom…”

“…I’M NOT MY MOM!” Temper flared, shortly.

“I’m not like my mom.”, Mel repeated, more softly.

“But at the show… You were…”

“Embarrassed. I’ve never been so ashamed in my whole life. I don’t know why I ever did that, and I don’t want to talk about that night again. Ever!”

“Wow… your mom really must have gave you some words!”

“I’m NOT like my mom! She didn’t do anything to me. She never punishes me. She’s always so understanding and helpful and just… She gave me tips! TIPS! Well… after she had told me I should have asked first, and that she would have told me no, of course. But… advise on stripping! I could have melted for shame. But that’s just how she is.”

The dam was broken. Mel continued her narration.

“She was always open about it. What she had done… what she did. Where I came from.”

“And your dad…?”, Dora asked softly.

“Don’t know. Mom doesn’t either, so she told me. Which is also a bit embarrassing… but she always had a lot of friends. Nice people, really. I used to play with the makeup artists while in the next room she was… well, you know.”

She blushed, and both Dora and Mika hugged closer to her. “Really, it wasn’t bad or something. She never did anything inappropriate. With me, I mean. But then I had to start school and we moved, and she talked a lot about ‘getting respectable’.”

“Was that when she started working for the television?”

“What? Oh, that! Yes, she did that. It was just a side gig, later. No, she cooked and did catering and stuff. She owned five high class restaurants, didn’t she tell you? She was quite the thing in our state.”

“And Fräulein Wunder became Gundula the respectable German business woman… what a story!”, Mika commented.

Melanie giggled. “You don’t know Mom. She made contacts, lots of contacts. Oh, the parties we had! With her famous foods, and famous musicians and lots of other famous people. Even the governor was there! Now, of course I was send to my room when the night went on… but Mom was always open about everything. Really everything! I knew all about sex before I went to High School. In theory. All in the abstract.”

“With her very own personal visual aids, surely”, Dora smirked.

“No! I’ve never seen her movies. She’s my MOM! Could you…? Of course I knew all about Fräulein Wunder, the German udder queen. How could I not know? She told me when…”
She patted her massive bosom.
“… when these started to show up, and boys started noticing, and I didn’t know how to react and one thing led to another and…”

“… you got pregnant in High School!”, Mika couldn’t stop herself.

“WHAT? No, I didn’t! I got… ehm… well… hm… well, I got violent, and send two guys from our football team to the hospital. And because of these and because they were jocks and I was just a girl, they admins were on their side and expelled me. Now I had a bad rep and still these and the teasing and taunting and… stuff… only got worse at the next school.”

“Hospital?”, I asked, feeling for her just as much as for her opponents.

“Only one this time. Two broken ribs and nose.”, she responded in a quiet voice.

“Thus England.”

“Yes, thus England.”

Silence fell.


“And what happened then? You did say that you had trouble with boys there as well. But different. So, spill the juicy details!” – “Mika! Don’t harass her!” – “Don’t pretend you are not bursting with curiosity as well, Dodo!”

“Do I have to?”, Mel wailed.

“No!” Dora put her foot down. “She shared… now it’s your turn, Mik. And then… we’ll see. So, dear Michaela… what happened on New Year’s Eve after we left?”



Mika had to explain first about the party. I found this part quite interesting… the girls’ point of view was new to me as well.

Mika had known what it would be like.
“But how?”, Teddy asked. “Singing songs and doing silly dances… I was expecting that. But you did a bloody striptease. How had you dared?”

“Why, brother dear? Surely you weren’t offended. We were all adults there. Well… almost. Well… the rest. But how I knew? I asked them!”

“You… what?”, Teddy sputtered.

“Asked the brothers. If it would get sexy, and if we might do something. Come on, you had seen how they had looked at our titties!”

“Yes, but… Mama and Papa, if they had known…”

“Oh, poor little baby brother! Hadn’t you noticed how we always had to leave the party early in the years before, and how they went back after they send us to bed? On New Year’s Eve?”

“You mean… they had… they did…?” Teddy’s tendency to turn bright red when embarrassed had not improved.

“For a serial wanker, you are such a sweet innocent lamb.”, Mika laughed and continued her story. “After the three of us had set the right tone, the rest of the night was going to go just fine. Hannelore and Elaine… that’s ‘fat mum’ and ‘mousy teen’ for you ignorant dolts… had gone for their first round. You only had eyes for your guy, Teddy was already half asleep – and no doubt dreaming of Dora shaking her mams, the little perv – and Karin was starting to have serious doubts about her boyfriend. I convinced her to get this creep out before he ruined everything… you left in peace… and I could start having my fun.”

“You mean… you had… you did…?” Theodor’s mind went in circles.

“Sure. What do you think I would be doing there?”

“So…” We could see his mind’s wheels turn. “The guy… the guy from Berlin… he was all over you. You slept with him?”

“Yes, him too.”

“Too? Who else?”

“Why… all of them! Well… not with Dietmar. He was the cuter one of the gay couple, if you remember. Such a pity, but he was exclusive.”

“You mean… you had… you did…?

“All round, multiple times and more than one at once, yes! Shocked, little brother? I admit that I had been be bit nervous… it has been my very first orgy, but they were all so nice and sweet and it was just glorious!”

“But… but… but… you’re my sister! I should have…”

Mika couldn’t stop laughing at Teddy’s shocked face. “What? Protected me? Do I have to remind you who arranged your first time, and who sat right next to you?”
She turned to Melanie, who looked almost as incredulous. “That’s a different story though. So, Dora, your turn. Tell us all about those innocent photos.”



Dora’s story got a bit longer.
The photos. Yes, she wanted a photo, as a present, for a good old friend. Yes, a topless photo. And so she started to explain. About Uncle Emil. About our vacation and the different events. About us… while she took my hand and looked at me with so much love in her view.

All the while Melanie’s eyes got bigger and bigger and still Dora kept talking. About her… her figure, her fears, her acceptance, her… fun, with her friends, with me, with Mika, with Teddy…

“Oh, oh, my tale, my tale! See, told you so.” Mika interrupted Dora’s life story.
“He’s a little wanker, if you must know. With a terminal addiction to huge breasts! But also terminally shy. So I said to myself: if I don’t do anything, he would never get a girl.”

Teddy could only whisper, “That’s not so.”

“Quiet! You know it is! Now I couldn’t do anything. Even if he can’t stop looking at my titties – don’t deny it, loser! – I’m still his big sis, and there’s things like moral and propriety. But I had this good friend with enohormous bazahongas, and she was willing to do me a favor and do a bit of experimenting herself, and also test her own relationship…”

A surprised look from me was countered by a sly Dora-type smile.

“… and there we were. There also was this Mark-creep we have already told you about. But fortunately, we were able to get rid of the guy, and then we all went to the sauna. You know about sauna in Germany? Naked! Totally! Everybody!”

I remembered that day, and from the look on Teddy’s face, he did also. With mixed feelings, it seemed.

“Teddy, the loser, couldn’t do anything but stare, as much as I tried to start a, hm, conversation.”

“You shamed me, bitch!” Teddy called out.

“Shut up, loser! Everything I said was true, wasn’t it? Well… so I didn’t mind to, err, take things into my own hands.”

Mel’s eyes grew wide in surprise. “No, not with Teddy. Urgh… he’s my brother! Nah… with him! Dora was inseparable from him, and I why was I to be denied a treat, and then Dora finally got the clue and soon we all were happily ramboozling like rabbits!”

Mika looked around with a proud grin. “And it worked. He even got a girlfriend… after that New Year’s party, when he faced Karin’s horrible boyfriend. Mission accomplished. Karin said he’s quite good in bed as well.”

Dora nodded. “Yes, he’s really not bad.”

“Could you please stop talking about me as if I was a bull on auction?”, Teddy cried, but to no avail.

“He’s single right now, if you haven’t noticed. Karin is a bit flighty… always on the quest for true love. Poor girl. But, so… he’s a good catch. Nice, intelligent, doesn’t talk your ear off and does appreciate your assets, isn’t that true, Teddy?”

Teddy looked as if he wanted to disappear. Melanie looked equally uncomfortable.
Mika wasn’t fazed at all though. “So, now you know all about us. The sexual perverts you call friends and family. Except we’re not. My brother is a really good guy, Dora is just a recovering lesbian, I… just want to have my fun, and this one…” She looked squarely at me. “This one is a bit boring. Sorry, Mr. Nice Guy!”

Her hand shushed Dora’s objection. “Yes, I know he’s totally devoted to you. But I mean: where’s the spice? Where’s the drama? Where’s the fun?”

I admit to having been a bit offended. Boring? How dare she? Hm… was I?

Mika finished her monologue. “And now it’s your turn, dear sister in bust. England. What happened?”



Mel blushed again. “It was nothing, really.”

“Nothing wouldn’t get you expelled from another school.”

“I wasn’t expelled! I didn’t do anything! It was all their fault!”

“So something did happen.”

“You won’t leave it alone until I tell you, will you?” Mika shook her head. Dora joined in.
I pitied Mel… but if Mika wanted to have her spice, her drama… Teddy didn’t dare to look up.

“Fine! I’ll tell you! And you call yourself my friends!”
Mel’s annoyance was only half sincere. After all that she had heard, she wanted to join in the sharing.

“It was a joined boarding and local school. Mom had chosen it because we had old friends in the city, and so I wasn’t left stranded in a foreign country among a group of total strangers. I didn’t have to live in the dorm… but that also meant that I was a bit more isolated from the rest of the students… both the internals and the externals. It took me quite a while to find friends. Friends! I thought they were. And they betrayed me!”

She paused for a moment. “There was this clique. Of girls, of popular girls. And they accepted me. Because I was new and exotic and American, I thought. And they were absolutely fascinated by… by these, of course. They wouldn’t stop pestering me about them. So I agreed to show them. Privately. Only to them. We met in a lab, after hours. No lights, only torches. They… were impressed. Wanted to touch them. Feel them. Handle them. And did.

And then there were lights and flashes and noise. They had set me up. They had smuggled in boys, with cameras and cell phones and they took pictures of me… and they SHARED them all around the school.

I couldn’t stay for a day longer. Mom had to fly over and take me home, and she was totally desperate and then said I should be among family and we would move and, and, and… and here I am. That’s all. That’s what happened!”

“So… you weren’t…?” Dora carefully broke the silence that had followed.

“No! I wasn’t! I never was! You with all your talk of orgies and shared sex and what the fuck… I never had sex! I AM A FUCKING VIRGIN!!!”



She started to sob. Immediately Dora had her in a firm and tender embrace. “Shush, shush, I’m sorry. We are all sorry. We didn’t mean to pester you. We were just… we didn’t know.

Sob. “How could you? I’m the fucking virgin daughter of a fucking porn star. I’m a freak! A disaster!”

“No, you are not. You’re my cousin. You’re our friend. Come on, let’s get you to bed. The night was long.”

“Not a word!”, she hissed at us as she guided the bundle of misery from the room.



It was an hour or more until she finally joined me in bed.
“She’s sleeping. Poor girl. We should have been more careful. Tomorrow, I’ll apologize to her. So will Mika and Teddy. And so will you!”

“Me? But I didn’t do anything?”
“Yes, I know. Because you are nice. And that’s why you will apologize. Because you are nice.”

“… and boring”, I grumbled.

“Ah, shut up! Ignore Mika. I’m your girl, not she. I don’t need drama! I don’t need spice! I like nice. You’re nice. I like you. Come, I’ll show you how much I like nice.”


She did. Sometimes it pays to be nice. Even if I knew she did like drama.
 
Don't expect that to be a regular feature. Writing new stories usually takes longer than that. But there were a few things that bothered me about the last chapter, some inconsistencies that I felt needed to be fixed. And there were a number of other ideas I wanted to follow, and so one thing lead to another... and it might have turned out to be quite a mess. Maybe I have overdone it a bit.

I still had a lot of fun writing that one, and I hope you will have fun reading it. Please let me know what you think.
 
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Part 44: In loco parentis


„What are we even doing here? Oh, this was a bad idea!”

“It was your idea”, I told Teddy as we walked through the alpine village’s cobblestone streets. “My suggestion was to just ask your parents.”

“Crazy talk! How could I ever do that? Asking your parents about their habit of attending orgies… Dora’s licentiousness is rubbing off on you. Or her aunt’s. I’m… I’m just…”

His nervousness made me smile.

“You’re a prude, Teddy… who would have thought? I can’t remember you being averse to Dora or her aunt. And you are the one with the licentious sister.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re right. Sorry. It’s just… doing it in private is one thing, talking about it at the dinner table with your parents…”

“Hey, pal… I get you. Not a topic for dinner conversation. ‘Hey, Mom, how was your last gangbang?’ Hm… I haven’t seen much of your mother. Is she like Mika, up top?”

“Oh, will you stop it! You’re talking about my mother!”

He paused for a second before continuing. “No. Not quite as big. E-Cups. At least a couple of years back.”

“Why, Teddy? Spying on your mom? What would Mika say?”

“Don’t you even think of telling her! It was her bras I was looking for. I didn’t know that the smaller ones belonged to Mom until I realized what a bandwidth is.”

“Theodor, your dedication to breasts impresses even me! To analyze your mother’s brasseries.”

“Now stop it already. It’s my mother! I… would you think of your mother like that?”

“No. And now you might understand how Melanie feels about her mom.”

“I do, I do, believe me. It’s just that I can’t look at Gundi and not remember seeing her gigantic naked tits wobbling while she was getting it hard.

Do you think she likes me?”

“Aunt Gundi? Why, I have no idea. She might take your dedication as a compliment.”

“No. Melanie. I don’t want her to think that she’s only a pair of big boobs to me.”

“Isn’t she? Teddy, old chap, are you in love?”

“Might be, might be. I like her a lot.”



Sheesh, this boy – this grown up adult man – was such a naïve soul. We walked silently for a moment, but there was still something nagging me.

“So… when you found the bras, back then… Mika was…?”

“Thirteen. Oh, her size, you mean. 55F. She looked like a ten-year-old with ginormous honkers… you know how small she is, all around, except her boobs. Though she was much more shy about it back then. Not like now.”

Something Dora had told me once came back. “Yeah, I think my girl might have something to do with that. And Karin.”

“Ah, here we are. Alpine-Sport Hasslinger Brothers”.



“What are we even doing here? Oh, this was a bad idea!”

“It was your idea”, Dora told her reluctant cousin as they moved carefully through to stuffed and stuffy attic. “My suggesting was to just ask your mother.”

“And she would have told you everything she knew. Everything! With illustrated annotations! No, thank you! Why didn’t we ask your mother?”

“Why, she would have told us nothing. She never talks about the past. That’s why we are here, remember? You wanted to know your history.”

Melanie pouted. “You don’t know how it is, being alone. There’s always been just Mom and me. I didn’t even know I had a cousin until she packed up to move to Germany.”

“I didn’t know either.” – “Yes, but you have lots of other cousins. And uncles and aunts and grandparents.”

Mel's desperate envy was palpable. “They all seemed to like you”, Dora tried to appease, remembering last Christmas dinner, when all of her father’s relatives had descended on her home. For reunion… and to get a glimpse at the new exotic relatives (in-law).

“Come on… Mama never throws anything away. All the old documents and photos have to be here somewhere.

Ah, here we are! The family archive… junk trunk”



“What are we even doing here? Oh, this was a bad idea!”

“It was your idea”, Gundi told her older sister as they sped along the busy Autobahn. “But it’s still time for second thoughts.”

“I’m already at third and fourth thoughts, and I’m still not sure it’s the right thing.”

“You miss them, don’t you?”

“Miss whom?”, Regina asked, trying to concentrate on finding the correct exit.

“Not whom. What. These!” Gundula turned and pushed her oversized mams towards the driver’s seat.

“Hey! Watch where you point these things! I’m nervous enough as it is. Don’t want an accident happening.”

“Sorry. Buy you do miss them, right?” Gundi grinned widely, resettling her gargantuan assets.

“Not everything in life is about tits.”

“So you miss them! Hah, I knew it!”

Regina looked straight ahead, eyes on the traffic, lips pinched. Jaw grinding.

“Yes, hell, I do miss them! Sometimes I don’t feel like a real woman. Sometimes I don’t feel like the real me! With you around, and your daughter, and Dora… I feel… inadequate.”

“Peter not giving you enough attention?”

“What? No! He’s the best husband you can imagine. And he never knew the old me. What I used to be. Before…”

“Yes, I was wondering about that. This stiff perfect catholic soccer mom… that’s just not the sister I remember.

Hey, do you recall that day when you wore that transparent blouse at mass, and old Pastor Gottlieber lost his false teeth because he was drooling so much?” She giggled.

Regina joined in the mirth: “Oh, yes! But he did deserve it, the old lecher. He was always trying to get into my bra.”

“Yes, I know. Mine, too.”

“And the things he tried to get me to say at confession! All these lewd sins he wanted me to confess… sometimes I was so ashamed.” Regina reminisced.

“Not that you ever did any of them, right? Hm… say, did you ever confess the volleyball team?”

“Not in his confession booth! Did you?”

“Never! Well… it seems here we are. Institute of Plastic, Reconstructive and Cosmetic Surgery.”



“What am I even doing here? Oh, that was a bad idea!”, Mika thought. Well, she couldn’t blame anyone else. No way but to flee… or fight.

“Hi Mama… got a sec?”

Her mother looked up from her knitting. “But of course, dear. Always!”

“I was just wondering… we didn’t go skiing in the mountains this winter. Why not?”

The needles started their click-click again.

“Oh, there was so much on your schedule this year, with all your activities and your friends, and school… so we thought, well… let’s just wait on how you decide to come out. After what happened last year.”

Decide? Come out? Last year? Uh, oh!

“Why… that was just kind of an accident, and even if Dora had to take her boyfriend to the hospital, there still was Karin and…” Mika tried to remember what she had told her mother about that morning. Especially because she herself hadn’t been there to witness it firsthand.

“Oh, I don’t mean that. I’m talking about your night.”

“My… night?”

Dammit, how did that always happen? She was trying to get some answers from her parents, and in the end she was the one having to give answers. How did they do it?

“You stayed at the party.”

A statement. Not a question.

“And you sure had fun.”

Teddy must have slipped it, Mika decided. The little bastard! He would pay for that! He should have been right next to her, right now, sharing her discomfort. But no, he had to run off with his pal to who-knows-where! Coward, traitor, brother!

“Oh, I just know you did. We were so happy for you. Shame Teddy didn’t get to share”, her mother continued, knitting away as if there was nothing to it.

“Share… what are you talking about, right now?”

“Your first night out, of course, dear! There are so much more options when you’re bisexual, aren’t there?”

Mika choked.

“You… you knew?”, she coughed.

“Of course we knew! Your Da thought we should tell you, but I knew what a headstrong young woman you are, and that you would just have rejected your present because you didn’t take it for yourself.”

“My… my present?”, she coughed again.

“Perhaps we should have filled in Dora and her friends beforehand, but we weren’t sure how they would react and spoil everything… but in hindsight, it all worked out fine.”

Mama started humming.

”… your extra time… and your TITS!”, she lilted, “How I wish I could have seen that. Shame it didn’t work for Teddy, but perhaps he was just a tiny bit too young. I had considered that maybe we should wait another year, and be there with you, but your Da thought that this just wouldn’t have been appropriate.”

“App… appropriate?” She couldn’t stop that cough.

“A glass of water perhaps, dear? Hannelore had said she would bring her daughter this years – she doesn’t have your Da’s inhibitions on such things - and I thought she – Hannelore, that is – would make a good match for Teddy. The boy has such explicit preferences, doesn’t he? And I heard that you got very well along with her daughter.”

Mica recalled being eaten out by Elaine while the teen-girl was getting porked, and had to cough again.

“Err… yes… in a way.” She paused. “Wait a sec… HIS tastes? What… how do you know?”

“His online activities of course, dear. How do you think we know you’re bi? You never told us!” She managed to make that sound like an offense.

“His… my… you monitor our internet?”

“That’s what any good parents should do. Make sure their children are safe. And of course we don’t do it since you turned 18. You’re an adult now, and your body is your choice.”

“Thank you”, Mica responded blankly. Setup. It had all been a setup. Fun nonetheless, she couldn’t prevent this thought.

“But Teddy wasn’t there. How do you know all that?”

“Oh, your hosts told us, of course.”



“YOU DID WHAT?”

Teddy just barely kept from spitting his soup across the table.

The Hasslinger brothers, our old landlords and hosts, had invited us to lunch in a nice rustic little inn, and “that” conversation over lunch was a bit easier than with parents.

“Told them, of course. As they had requested. They wanted to know if their present was appreciated.

“Present?”

“Yepp.” Kalli Hasslinger savored his meal with the calm of a man with a clear conscience. “Shame you didn’t get to share, but it was to be a surprise, and then you left so quickly, and we both were a bit busy at that moment…”

“Yes,” Norbert Hasslinger reminisced, “spit-roasting that slender MILF with the big titties. A real pity, boy, she would have been just your taste.”

“Sheesh, Bertl! That was the year before that… and that was his mother!”

“It was? Hah, you’re right! Sorry, boy! My bad. Anyway… “ he continued narrating as if it was a trip to the market.

Teddy just stared at them while he slowly realized the scope of the whole misadventure.

“…and then your parents canceled for this year. Which was a bummer, because we think we still owe them, and especially you… and we had these Swedish girls as guests this year, twin sisters, with big juicy meatballs…”

“Swedish… twins?”

“Yep, and goodness gracious, these two were hot… but…”

“AHHHHH”

Teddy shrieked, jumped up and ran out of the door. I quickly apologized to our hosts and ran after him.

I caught up with him as he stumbled towards our parked car. Mumbling angrily. I touched his shoulder. “Hey, pal, I know it’s bad. But what your parents did…

“… oh, fuck what my parents did. They did… whatever. I’ll have to face it. I’ll have to deal with it when we get home. And give Mika the bitch my mind. But…”

He looked at me with a pained look. “…Swedish twins! With big boobs! And I missed them!”



“Look, that’s my… our… grandparents!”

Dora turned the large photographic album towards Mel.

“They’re quite the glum looking couple.”

The two newly-weds looked into the camera barely smiling. And the following pictures didn’t get much brighter.

Only some of the photos were in color, showing the vintage tint of the 60’s. But the depicted couple was always conservatively, even somberly dressed.

“Hm… you’re right. They don’t seem very happy. Well, not everyone was a flowerchild back then. I don’t remember them well. Oma was ill and died when I was still little, and Opa just a year later or so.”

“Maybe that’s why our moms never talk about them?”

“Yeah, maybe. Hey, look, here they are. And don’t they look much happier?”

Another set of photos had the stern couple now in leisure wear, and two little girls were standing, or more often running around in the images.

Dora took out the last picture of the set and turned it around.

“1978. Mom had just started school. And Aunt Gundi… when was she born?”

“1973. You do start school at 6 in Germany, right? Preschool then. That’s the last picture? Surely there have to be more.”

“The must be another volume. But the other albums all look older. Well, it has to be somewhere. We’ll find it later. Let’s get further back.”



Mel grabbed another of the binders.

“Wow, that’s old looking!”

As the volume they had just viewed, this one too started with a wedding photo. Carefully Dora removed the old black-and-white card from the clips and read the inscription in the back.

‘1930, celebrating the wedding of Klaus Alois Graf von Hochstetten to Komtessa Theodora von Altenstein.’

Mel looked up. “These are ancestors? The ‘von’ means they’re nobles, right? Hey, you are a noble. Hey, I am a noble! Your Highness!” She bowed comically.

“That is an Altenstein girl. Yes, she certainly has the dominant features.”

“So you do know them? Are they family?” Mel was excited at this find.

“No, they are… local hobnobs. Weird folk. Have a castle a bit further away.”

“A real castle? So they are nobles!”

“Yeah, old blue bloods. Weird, as I said.” She tried to remember her visit. “I think I have heard that name, Theodora, but this just can’t be…”

“But that’s just your name in reverse, isn’t it? Your full name is Dorothea, right?

“Yes?” Dora tried to put away the uncomfortable memory of her encounter with the old count… and the even more uncomfortable idea that she might have tried to impress some sort of grand-uncle with her bosom.



At least the photos showed a happy couple. Even if most of the poses were formal and the costumes stiff, they always showed a genuine smile on their face and when they looked at each other, you could feel the sincere affection. After a few sets, a baby joined the display, growing up to a young girl.

Then, a photo was black-rimmed, and a black band crossed the image of the uniformed husband.

“Urg… he was a Nazi?” Melanie was appalled.

“That’s a military uniform. He was a soldier.” Dora looked at the note. “Died in Berlin, September 1944. He might have been one of the resistance fighters who got executed after the failed assassination attempt. Yes, he might have been. Their families weren’t treated kindly.”

Indeed, the few remaining photos of the widow, always in black, showed a total lack of the opulent wealth demonstrated in the earlier pictures.

“So, these would have to be… our great-great-grandparents. And the girl, the daughter? What happened to her? She doesn’t show up in the pictures since… “ Mel did a check. “… since 1942. Do you think she was killed?”

“Before having children on her own? Yeah, sure, that’s how she became our great-grandmother. Dolt!”

Mel winced. “Oh, yes, that’s right. Is there another album? That must be hers then.”

There was another album. It didn’t start with a wedding photo… though it showed a couple.

“Hey… that’s an American uniform! And if this is… HOLY SHIT!”

The short girl standing arm in arm with the widely grinning G.I. was wearing a simple but cute dress… with a very well filled top. Extremely well filled.

“That must be…“, Mel did a few quick approximations, “… at least Mom’s size. At least! And she’s only… when was that picture taken? HOLY SHIT! I guess we’ve found our great-grandma!”

There were a number of other images with the girl and the G.I., dancing, flirting, smiling, having fun together.

“You know what that means? You’re American! I’m American. Well… I already am American, but now I’m even more American.”

“Or perhaps not.” Dora had flipped a few pages and finally found the wedding photo. The groom was not the smiling G.I. and didn’t look very soldierly at all. Or American. “Otto und Elisabeth Schmitz, née Hochstetten”, they had signed it.

“Oh.” Mel looked crestfallen. “What happened? They had seemed so happy.” She flipped back through the pages. There were more pictures of the soldier. And then a different soldier. And another one. And one of the young girl with a baby in her arms.

“A child out of wedlock! And with an American soldier. Well, I’m out of wedlock, and I’m fine. Hah, see, you’re still an American!” Mel declared triumphantly.

The rest of the images told a bleaker story. Otto Schmitz did not seem very happy with his buxom wife, or her half-American bastard child.

“That’s why Oma turned out so unhappy.” Dora decided when the final picture showed the gaunt aged hull of the formerly lively girl and her lanky, glum-looking teenage daughter.



“Now all we have to find is the album of our moms. But there isn’t another one. If one exists, it’s not here. Shame. But what a find that was!"



The bespectacled young man with the white coat and the receding hairline looked in gleeful anticipation at the full-figured woman sitting in front of him.

Yes. Finally! That was a worthy case. Something that would make his name. He already laid out the paper he would write about this immense case. Imagined the procedure, where we would make the cuts, how to reform the deformities into something more fitting, more appropriate, more aesthetic. Oh, yes, that must the biggest case of gigantomastia ever treated in this clinic. Perhaps in the whole country. He had never seen anything like it.

“You have definitely come to the right place. We can take the best possible care of your condition.”

“Err, Doctor?”

The annoying interruption could not stop his vivid imagination. He would give this poor woman her life back!

“Though a procedure of that magnitude isn’t standard and might come with some risks, we can assure you of very positive prospects, regarding your overall health as well as your physical identity. At that size, a reduction is…”

“Doctor, hello?”

With a jolt, he left the lecture hall of his imagination, where he already enjoyed the standing ovation of his colleagues for this magnum opus.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” He fell back into his practiced professionalism and turned to his prospective patient’s inconspicuous companion. “You have a question?”

“You seem to be confusing something. She’s not here for a reduction. It’s me you would be seeing… and I’m looking for an augmentation.”

The plain woman pulled a leather-bound photo album from her bag.

“You see… I used to be like my sister, but then I had a reduction in my teens… and I kind of regret it now.

The young doctor looked in horror at the photos the woman laid out on his desk. The two girls depicted looked so carefree and happy, and they were carrying such a heavy burden. Such a massive, gigantic burden!

“That’s how I used to be. So I am looking for something a bit bigger than the usual…”

...

“So we went looking for someone a bit bigger, to make it up to your brother… but the scene is so limited around here!”

Her mother chirped on, happily and freely, while Mika sat there grinding her teeth.

“Hah”, she thought, “so you don’t know everything! You don’t know about Dora’s escapades, you don’t know about the show, you don’t know about The Foundry, you don’t know about Aunt Gundi… and you think yourself so clever.”

“It’s so great to see your children grow up into strong and self-determined individuals. We never wanted to pressure you into anything… but it’s such a relief that we can now talk about everything!”, her mom continued.

Mika made some sort of affirming sound, while thinking for herself: “No pressure. Just surveillance and scheming. I’ll get you back for that. I don’t know how yet, but I will get you back!”

“Every generation thinks they were the ones who invented sex… but I could tell you stories. Stories!”

With one ear Mika kept listening to her mom recounting the wild days of her youth, the wild days of her early adulthood, the wild days of her marriage, the wild days of being an outwardly decent and sedate housewife… she kept listening with growing fascination. And she kept making her plans.

She would have to get Dora involved somehow. And Melons maybe, the poor little unkissed lamb.

It would be devious. It would be glorious. Whatever it was going to be. You just wait, Mom and Dad!


The idea was starting to turn her on.
 
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Part 45: Twisting paths


Dora’s mother was bustling in the kitchen when Mika entered.

“Hi dear! Also here for your homework?”

“Homework? I don’t have any ho…”

“Melanie’s already upstairs. Dora said she was given her some private tutoring lessons.”

“Tutoring? No, I just wanted t…”

“I prepared some milk and cookies. Take it up with you, yes?”

And she turned away, humming, lost in her own little private world.



Private lessons, huh? Mika balanced the tray carefully with one hand and knocked, just in case.
Faint words from within sounded like “Sure, come in whenever you like.”

She had expected something, anything… but not quite that.
Melanie was lying on Dora’s large king-sized bed. Completely naked, legs spread wide. Her face was buried under her gargantuan heavy udders… and layered on top of these massive flesh mountains were Dora’s own enormous milkjuggs.

Dora was kneeling between her stacked cousin’s legs, happily humping away until she noticed the door.
“Dang it, I said: wait a minute!”

From the position of Mel’s head, a sort of muffled cry could be heard. The dark-skinned beauty tried to sit up, but the sheer mass of titflesh resting on her face made that an impossible feat.

“Private tutoring, hah! I should have known it!”, Mika giggled. Dora calmed the terrified teenager beneath her: “Relax, Melons, it’s just Mika the klutz.”
She rolled over and released her younger cousin from at least part of the heavy burden that was placed on her.
“Oh, hi, Mik.” Melanie was subconsciously trying to cover both her glistening sex and her humongous hooters. It didn’t work.

“Relax, Melons”, Mika copied her friend. “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before. Hey, that’s not true.”
She had noticed the huge strap-on dildo Dora was wearing. “That is new, isn’t it? Advanced lessons already. Why, you could have waited for me. Hm… can I have a go at that thing?”

“Giving or taking?”, Dora asked while the petite blonde was already stripping out of her clothes.

“What a question! Both of course!”



A decent while and a dozen orgasms later, the three girls lay cuddled together in the pillows, munching on milk and homemade cookies.
Dora picked a few crumbs from Mika’s cleavage. “So, did you have something specific in mind when you barged in here?”

“Hm? Oh, yes! Now that you remind me.”
Quickly she shared her mother’s dirty secrets with her best friends.
“And she bugged our computers!”, she declared with indignation. “That’s Stasi-like methods. That’s inhumane, I say! Someone should do something!”
“I might be able to do something”, Mel said, “I’m quite good with computers.”

“You are? Oh, that would be brilliant! Hey, watch it with the glass! Oh, look, now you spilled milk all over your huge fat udders, you little cow! Hm, I might be able to do something about that.”

It would take another hour and another few rounds of mutual climaxing before the girls could return to discuss more serious matters.



Teddy was fidgeting silently all the way home.
“You can’t really be upset about these Swedes. Not even you”, I asked.
“I’m not. Not that much. It’s… all of it. It’s a bit overwhelming. And I do blame Mika! If she hadn’t been so… so eager to get layed, none of all that would have happened. Ever!”

I just couldn’t stop it.
“Well… except all of you would have been there this year again, and there would have been these two Swedish tittie-twins…”

“AHHHHHHH!”

...

Teddy was still fuming when we finally reached their home. His parents weren’t in… I don’t know if he could have faced them right now. But Mika and the girls were there, and the quarrel went off in a predictable way.
“If you just had… no, if you hadn’t… it’s your fault… oh, and you’re so innocent…”
Dora separated the two before it came to blows.
“We’re here for a reason, remember?”

Melanie had been working on Mika’s computer, unfazed by the sibling-squabble. “It’s nothing big”, she announced finally. “No major spyware, no parental control software. It’s just logging the sites you visit. Hm, no… it logs all the sites visited from this local network.”

A few more clicks. A few more keystrokes.

“Sloppy work. My mom got a much better system installed on my computer, “for protection”. Of course I then needed to show her how it worked. But this… it’s not even secured.”

“Hm… all sites, you say? So, we can see what THEY were looking at?”

“Not directly, but as a list, yes.”

We could see the proverbial lightbulb appearing over Mika’s head.

“Show me! … Hm, boring... Boring... Normal… That’s more like it… Isn’t that one of yours, Teddy? Boring… Now would you look at that! Oh, I think I have a plan!”



There was an exclusive swinger’s club operating from “The Foundry”… the old industrial-complex-turned-disco/club/convention-center. It didn’t advertise and it was only for members. Guests had to be sponsored by full members, and even the “open” events like the carnival ball we had attended a year before was by invite only.
It was very exclusive. You had to have access to an insider. Which we had. So we all went for a coffee.



Andrea sipped her cappuccino with glee. “Oo, I love some good pranks! So, you want to bait your parents with access to the club, have them arrive all eager and wet and then close the door in their face? Eeeeevil!

Mika replied with an evil chuckle. “Nah, that would be too easy. I want to bait them with the club, have them arrive all dressed up – or undressed-up – and then divert them to the dance floor. Give them a real good public shaming!”

“The dance floor? In the nightclub? I would strongly advise against that!”, the outsider on the table spoke up.
Mika glared at her. “Would you? And who are you again to destroy my brilliant plans?”

The young woman glared back. She could almost have been Mika’s twin: delicate elfin features, short-cropped blonde hair, large bust… but she was at least 30cm taller than our diminutive friend, and much more muscular.

“Oh, I forgot you don’t know her”, Andrea said. “But you two remember her, don’t you? This is Freddy, who runs security at the Foundry.”

“And that’s why I tell you that your plan is bull, little one”, the tall blonde continued curtly. “The dance club is always packed and there’s alcohol and other stuff, as much as we try to prevent it. Security is tight there. Always on their toes. You wouldn’t want to cause a stir there. Might not end gently.”

“Oh!” Mika’s enthusiasm waned. “I hadn’t thought of that. We couldn’t send them to church, or a school meeting… but I thought this might be a public, yet anonymous occasion… and we had the bait… dang it. It was such a good plan.”

“I think it still is”, Freddy said. “There’s other options. There’s events that are much more… civilized, and thus security is less stringent. I can think of some.”

She called up a list on her laptop, and the gang gathered around.
“What’s this? Dinner and Dance of the German Philatelist Society… sounds kind of pervy.”
“Stamp collectors. Oh, yes, that would be perfect!”

The evil gleam had returned to Mika’s eyes, and the mischief was reflected in Freddy’s face.

“It’s not as if something like that hasn’t happened before. It’s quite fun for the security team, but not without risk. For our job. So, what’s in it for me? I’d need a new bra again, Andi.”

“25% off” – “For free!” – “50?” – “75!” – “Ok, fine.”



So the plan was made, and it proved rather easy to implement.
Setting the bait fell to Andrea, who send out an invitation by proxy, and informed us it had been accepted. To the sibling’s relief, their parents hadn’t bragged about it, or, horrible thought, asked their offspring to join in.

A day earlier, we set out on a preliminary scouting mission. The building looked different in daylight, and without the crowds. Our steps echoed in the empty corridors as we traced the route from the club to the main stage.
There were people in the large hall, preparing the place for the big event next day. It looked different than in my memory, but I recognized the large screens all over the place.

Dora looked uncomfortable. I didn’t know how much she remembered of her big night-out here… we never talked about it. But Freddy didn’t know that. “People are still talking about your show, Dora. Will you be back this year?”
My girl winced, but kept it to some vague noises open to interpretation. “I don’t like this place”, she whispered to me. Now it was to me to make the noncommittal sounds.

Mika also had noticed the screens. “There’s cameras in here?” – “Yes, and a better quality than the surveillance stuff”, Freddy answered. “But they are separate and not controlled by security… you might have to bribe someone else if you want footage. Do you?”

Mika nodded enthusiastically: “Oh, yes! Lest they ever forget!”



The next day.
Melanie, Andrea and me had been going early, to prepare the traps. Dora, Mika and Teddy would trail, to ensure the elders hadn’t had a change of mind and were just going to a movie or something.

Freddy was waiting for us, handed each team a headset, and we set out for our assigned positions.
Everything was working perfectly to plan. Andrea had introduced the parents and send them off to the locker rooms… and set them for the wrong exit. Melanie was to make sure the doors back in were locked… and now the couple stood there in the empty corridor, wondering what had gone wrong.

Just as anticipated, they set out to find another way back in, after just a few attempts of knocking. The line of lit hallways should lead them directly into the main hall, into the direct view of a large group of stodgy old stamp collectors.

Teddy gave the first feedback. “They passed me. Urk… why did I have to see this? Mika, you’re crazy! Now turn off the lights… I’m out of here.”

“Coward!”, Mika’s voice came from our earpieces. “Don’t get lost in the dark!”
That was the plan. Use the lights to set a path through the maze of corridors, then switch them off and close the way back. And it worked. It worked indeed!

Dora and I had the next checkpoint. Our observation post was some sort of break room, just off the main hallway, and quite a cozy little place it was. Still, Dora was shivering as we sat watching the entrance. “This place gives me the creeps”, she confessed, snuggling deeper into my arms. “And I don’t even know why.” She hesitated for a second. “Say… what was it I did last year?”

“You really don’t remember?” – “No, total blackout. I… didn’t do anything bad?”
“Well… you drank a lot. And you danced. And showed off. And… and you had a lot of… fun.”
“And you?”
My hesitation gave me away.
“Oh! Sorry. Can you forgive me?” She leaned in to kiss me… and hit me with her headset. “Stupid things!”

Without them, her kisses were more on target. “I’m so sorry you had to see the bad Dora.”
“Dora”, echoed the empty room.

“There’s nothing to forgive. There’s no bad. There’s only one of you. The one and only you. My Dora!”
“Dora”, echoed the empty room.

“Oh, I love you so much!”, she purred. Her kissing got wilder, her hands went down to sensitive regions.
“I do love you, too, so much!” My hands joined hers, tracing the curves of her chest, her waist, her hips. “Dora, oh Dora!”
“Dora”, echoed the empty room.

“DORA!”, echoed the empty room. “Dora, are you there?” The echo came from the discarded headset.
My lovely girlfriend scrambled to grab it.
“Mika? Yes, yes, I’m here.”
“What are you two doing? Oh, never mind, I can imagine. What’s your status? Have they passed? They should have passed you by now?”

I looked out into the hallway. Empty. I shook my head.
“No, they’re not here.”
“You must have missed them! And they haven’t passed me either. We lost them! You lost them! How could you lose them? Dammit! Freddy? Teddy? Anyone? DAMMIT! Go after them!”

“Err… Mika… there’s several exits from here. And they are all lit.”

“OH, FUCK IT!!! We have to find them! Meet me at the security room!”



It took us a few minutes to get there. “Sorry, this place is a maze.”
“And my parents are lost in it”, Mika wailed. “Why can’t you find them?”

Freddy was unfazed, switching through the available cameras. “Most corridors don’t have surveillance. This is a community center, not a high security lab! But we’ll see them as soon as they pass another hall. Or get to the target.” The main camera was fixed to the great hall’s entrance, where the philatelists enjoyed their peaceful, undisturbed dinner. We would not miss them if they went this way.

Most other views were dark, but movement would have been noticed. Nothing. Then one monitor showed a bright scene. A party in full swing.
“Is that from the Club?”, Mika asked. Freddy was already at it. “No. Separate camera system in there, you remember? This here is a private event.” She checked a ledger.
A large banner was visible on the screen “Last Night In Freed…” it proclaimed.

“It’s a Stag Night.”

A very rowdy one, apparently, as we watched the crowd dancing to an unheard beat, and one, two, no, three young ladies starting to strip to the silent music.

“Shit! Can you switch to the corridor?”
A second monitor showed the mostly dark hall, with only tiny rays of light coming from a not completely closed door. A door leading to a raunchy party.

And then there was movement. Through the darkness, a shadow was moving. Two shadows were moving. Moving towards the light.

“Shit, shit, shit…”, Mika was panicking as the shadows turned in to silhouettes and disappeared into the light.

The other monitor did not have a view of the door, but we could see the reaction of the party guests to the newcomers. It wasn’t encouraging.

The strippers were a bit irritated, but only for a second. Then they turned back to their action. More actors just meant less work. The guest were more enthusiastic. More actors meant more action.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit…” Mika went into overdrive as it became obvious just what kind of action we could expect.

Mika’s dad was not a bad looking guy, I had to admit that. Though I got to see more of him than I was comfortable with. Other than a tiny black thong, all that was covering him was a dense dark mat of chest hair.
Her mother was almost conservatively dressed in comparison. If black leather, lace and chains can be considered conservative. At least she didn’t show anything indecent.

I had to revise this evaluation just ten seconds into the encounter. Dad, getting into full swing instantly, started to gyrate his pelvis on his missus’ ample ass, grabbed her by the waist and pulled down her bra. She, without hesitation, shook her impressive bosom towards the audience. Silent approval spread through the room.

The room of the party, of course. Our little closet filled with wails of disapproval.
“They are having FUN!”, Mika cried. “They aren’t supposed to have fun! Couldn’t they at least have the decency to get lost in the corridors? No, they must run into ANOTHER orgy! It’s so unfa… URG! TURN THAT OFF!!!”

Her mom had moved towards the welcoming hands of the prospective bridegroom, and thus revealed the nether parts of her own husband to the camera. Just for a second we could see his proud… and welcoming blackness hid that disturbing view from the eyes of his young daughter.

“I’m going to puke. I surely will puke! It’s all your fault! You should have… and Mel... and Teddy… where the hell are they?”
Mika pressed the button on her headset. “Mel! MEL! Goddamn, Mel, you cow, say something!”

Only silence answered her. Even Freddy seemed cowed by her fury.
“Is the whole world against me?”, Mika asked pathetically and walked out of the door. “Come on, you love-struck incompetents. We’ll collect my good-for-nothing brother and your empty-headed cousin and leave. LEAVE! I know when I’m beaten. AND WE WILL NEVER TALK ABOUT THAT AGAIN!”

After a short nod to security guard, Dora and I followed our enraged friend. Dora kept close to me, and I felt her shaking. Shaking from suppressed laughter.
“I can’t help it! That was even funnier than seeing her parents get exposed to a bunch of half-dead philisterists”, she giggled quietly. I barely could stop myself from laughing out loud.

Mika was too busy complaining about the cruelty of the world to notice, at first.
“Are you two laughing?”, she asked suddenly. “Are you laughing about me?”
She drew herself up in front of us, hands on her hips, to her full height of one-and-a-half meters. She looked as if she was about to explode… and she did. In a giggling fit.

We took her into our embrace and laughed until our sides hurt.
“Okay, okay, I admit: it was kinda funny. But still… never again a word about that. Now let’s find the others.”



In a much better mood we made our way back to the Club. It took a number of knocks before the door opened to reveal a disheveled looking Andrea.
“You’re back! How did it go? You have to tell me everything!”

“Later”, Mika replied shortly, taking in the state of Andrea’s clothes. “What have you been up to? Where are the others?”

Andrea grinned. “Oh, we got a bit bored just waiting here, so…”
With a grand gesture she showed us in, waved the circle of cheering attendants away and revealed an unexpected sight.

Melanie was down on all fours, eyes closed, breathing heavily. She was stark naked. Her massive tits swung under her torso, dragging over the velvet carpet as an equally nude Teddy pounded her doggy style from behind. Neither of the youngsters noticed us.

“They were a bit shy at first”, Andrea smirked, “but you could tell he wanted it, and that she wanted it. They’re quite enthusiastic, wouldn’t you agree?”

Mika collapsed into a chair. “Why me? Why this? Why everything? It’s just not my day! Fine! Let them have their fun! Let everyone have their fun! Just leave me to my misery!”

She let her head fall to the table, shaking under what I realized where just more giggles rather than sobs.

I felt soft hands probing my private parts. I turned to see my girl grinning into my face. “You want to join in?”
“Not here”, she responded as her hands got bolder and closer to my rising manhood. “But I believe I owe you something… and didn’t Andrea say they have private rooms?”

Oh, Dora. Never change!
 
Hey friends! I know it's been a while, but I finally got around to finish another chapter. Let's dive right in...


Part 46: A true professional


Dora’s head rested on my chest. It wasn’t the only thing resting on my chest. A bit further down, the heaviness of her breast pressed on my stomach. Only one of them, the other was squeezed somewhere between our bodies. I marveled how she managed to carry around all that weight the whole time.

A wisp of hair tickled my nose and I brushed it aside. She started to move.
“Morning! Am I crowding you?” She yawned.
“As if you ever could!”, I responded.
She turned to rise and the pressure of her body disappeared. A relief, but nothing I didn’t gladly bear.

“I… shower. You… breakfast.” She was still sleepy as she waddled towards my small bathroom. I took a moment to enjoy the sight of her swaying hips and swinging breasts.


I prepared the table – coffee, toast, jam, soft-boiled eggs - and took up enjoying the sights again when she came back. With no small pride I watched as she lowered her pendulous breasts into the huge cups of her new bra. Pride at the filling, pride at cover, which was my own handiwork.

“Fits like a second skin.”, she declared after adjusting the reinforced structure. “So… did you notice anything?”
“You haven’t grown. I used the measurements from last time, and you just said it fits fine.”
“No, I mean, further down.”
She lifted her breasts slightly to emphasize her abdomen. “Nothing you notice?”

I hesitated. She looked good. Great even, in my prejudiced eyes.
“Err… not really. What… you are not pregnant, are you?”

She pouted and tried to look down at her belly. Which was just not possible for her to do.
“Pregnant? Do I look pregnant? No, I’m not pregnant! I’ve started to work out again! And you can’t tell?”

She dropped down into a chair, grabbed a bread roll and spread a thick layer of butter and strawberry jam on it. I suppressed a chuckle as she took a huge bite and chided me, talking and chewing at the same time.
“You should join me. Wouldn’t hurt you.” She finished the first roll and grabbed another.

“Me? I’m just a poor tailor’s apprentice. What should I grow fat on? My responsibilities far outweigh my compensation.”

“Oh, yes, I almost forgot… you’re alone in the shop today. Andrea is working you too hard!” She reached for another bun and hesitated. “I’m not fat, am I?”
I looked at her voluptuous tits. Even supported by the heavy-duty bra I had constructed for her, they managed to rest in her lap. Don’t say it, boy! Don’t say it!
“If you were… you think anyone would notice?”
I said it.

“Idiot!” She still reached for a fourth roll. “But I have to run! I have a friend coming over for the day.”

“A friend? Do I know him?”

She enjoyed the comeback. “You might have run into… her.”
“Well… have fun then.” – “Will do. You too. Fun. At work, I mean. And tonight: my place, ok?”



“I cannot express how grateful I am!”, Martina sighed.

Dora cuddled the little squirming bundle on her lap: “Oh, it’s no bother at all. I used to babysit my younger cousins a lot. And my mom will be home soon. We’ll get on fine. Right, cutie?”

“Boo! Boo! Mama!”, said the little girl, grabbing for Dora’s chest.

“Yes, almost like Mama’s, aren’t they?”, Dora smiled.

“I’ve brought diapers. And milk as well. I pumped just before we left.”
“You’re still lactating?” – “All the time. But I should be good for an hour or so. It’s truly not easy.”

“You look stressed. Are you getting enough… sleep?”, Dora asked with a knowing wink.
The bulky woman sighed again. “My husband does not appreciate them, and even if he would be willing, there’s always the kids around, and I cannot even breastfeed the little one with these monsters. Truth be told… I haven’t had enough… sleep… for ages. I wish I… well, I just wish.”

“Yeah… well… if there is nothing I can do but keep you free for the afternoon…there’s always a way.”

They continued to talk. Then, after a while and a lot of giggling later, Dora accompanied the mom to the door, keeping the toddler close to her.
“Have a nice day, and I’ll see you in the evening. Don’t worry… it’ll all be fine.”



Dora was right, in a way. Andrea did work me hard. Professionally, of course. For the most part. But she also was a patient, understanding and overall great teacher. Plus, she showed a huge level of trust.

That’s why I was all alone in the shop now, while my master was off on some errant. True, I was a bit nervous, but there were no fixed appointments set for today, and I was confident I could handle any walk-ins.

I was very close to revising this position, when I heard the doorbell and my first customer came into view. Fortunately it was a familiar figure. Unfortunately there was quite a lot of figure.

“Hello again,” she said timidly.

My face smiled while my mind frantically tried to switch my loins to professional mode.
“Mrs. Müller, how nice to see you again.”

“Martina, please, I told you to call me Martina.”
She looked around nervously.
“I wouldn’t have barged in without an appointment, you know, but I’m so busy, and there was the chance, and I thought… I hoped… that you would be able to see me, and here I…”
“Of course we are always happy to see you. Though I fear today you will have make do with me. My boss isn’t in today. So if you want to come back another day…?”

I didn’t really want that. Andrea had been very zealous in keeping our biggest customer – literally – to herself. Sure, her bras needed special expertise that I was still lacking… perhaps even engineering knowledge… but there would have been tasks I could have performed. Something. Anything.
“Down, boy!”, I silently ordered my dick.

Martina fidgeted with her purse. “I… I… I don’t know when I have time to come again, and it’s a bit urgent and you could do the preparations, can’t you? I really need a new bra. I… I think I have grown. Again.”

I’m a professional. I’m a professional. A professional. I repeated the thought over and over again.
It was difficult to focus, with these gargantuan globes right in front of me, threatening to demolish her tight jacket. Difficult to focus on something other than the way they hung down to her hips, even kept in check by the best bra Andrea’s had to offer. Difficult to focus… I realized I was just standing there, though fortunately I had managed not to drool. Very professional, boy!

I snapped out of my reverie.
“Yes, sure. You understand that all of your bras are custom creations, so there is nothing here I can offer you right now.”

“I understand. But if you could start today…” She was so eager. Or just desperate.

And I wasn’t far behind.
“Sure, sure.” I led her to one of our curtained changing areas and went to collect my tools.
When I came back, laden with scissors, pincushions and measuring tapes, she had already rid herself of jacket and blouse.
I stared in awe at the marvel of tailoring ingenuity that was her brassiere. Andrea had used every trick in the books, all sorts of high tech and all her expertise to construct this true “Wonderbra”. Reinforced Lycra and carbon fibers, extra strong twines and fixtures, mixed with soft cloths and just a hint of lace… this piece was created to restrain massive loads without breaking and still be decorative. And it did its job perfectly. There was no sign of it breaking down, anywhere. It was still up to the task it had been designed for.
It was just that the task had outgrown the tool.

The massive fabric domes and bands – enough to produce a couple of “normal” sized bras… like the one I had made for Dora – weren’t built to stretch and expand. They were meant to sit snugly on the wearer’s torso, given the best possible support to the enormous volume of malleable flesh.
Now, it was more than snug.

Martina had tried her best to stop her growing boobs from falling out at the bottom. All that her efforts had accomplished was to push the soft flesh to the top, where it now bulged over the rim in an enticing display of pink skin and deep cleavage. Acres of skin and lots of cleavage!

She smiled nervously and started to undo the Velcro-reinforced clasps. She leaned forward and tugged at the cups. Shook her torso to loosen the grip of the clinging fabric. It took all my determination not to dive headlong into this wobbling mass. Professional! Remember that, boy!

“Sorry, it’s real work”, she told me apologetically. “And the reverse process will take even more time, I fear. There. Whew! All done!”

Her breasts were as massive as I remembered, her areolae large and round, the nipples thick and long. For their enormous size, they were extremely full. Bereft of all support, they now hung down to the hem of her skirt, but still flared out to her front and her sides like two overfilled beach balls.

“I know, they’re grotesque.”, she said into my stunned silence.
“No, no, not at all. You are… a uniquely beautiful woman.”
It was a stupid line, but she took it well. For the first time, her smile was genuine and relaxed.
“Thank you. So… what do we do now?”

That made me pause. Faced with the enormity of her breasts, the extra-long measuring tape seemed inadequate.
“Err… I’m not sure. Take your measurements, I suppose. What does Andrea usually do?”
Some sort of professional I was!

“I don’t know how to describe it. She takes all sorts of measurements. Round here, and here, and along here, and she has some sort of gadget to… “
She stopped, looking at my stunned face. “… I’m sorry. This was a bad idea. I should have made an appointment, but…”

I had to admit defeat. I didn’t know what she was talking about. There was just no way that I could do justice to these magnificent globes with just a bunch of mere numbers.
“No. I’m sorry. I apologize. I should not have made you…”
I gestured at her bra, lying forlorn on the floor. I felt like an immature teenager. Well… that wasn’t too far off, was it?

Still her smile was genuine. “It’s not as if you haven’t seen them before.”
That was true, but there was so much more I wanted to do with these gigantic udders. With the deepest regret I watched as she bend down to pick up her discarded bra. She almost keeled over from the sudden shift of weight.

“Oh, poot!”, she exclaimed, and I rushed forward trying to steady her.
“Thank you, but that’s not… I… I fear I’m leaking a bit.”
White droplets had formed on her stubby nipples, forming into little rivulets of milk, running down over her dark brown areolae.
“I need… could you… my bag… I need my bag. Quick, before I flood your shop!”

I rushed to fetch the required object, and Martina dug into the depths, taking out a strange contraption of wires and tubes, clear and white plastic.
“At least this time, I am prepared.”
She untangled the mess, took some wipes from a package and ran them over the concave disks.
“My breast pump”, she explained, as she placed the disks over her engorged nips.
With the press of a button, the little box began to whirr and wheeze, and suck her teats into the tubes. Click, click, in and out, in and out. Hypnotic.

“Ah,” she sighed in relief and sunk back into the chair. “Not my preferred method, but there isn’t always a hungry mouth or helping hand around, right?”

I couldn’t believe that she was sitting there, with such an inviting smile, while her full fat udders were getting milked. Professionalism be damned; I was about to dive into this bounty when I heard the most terrifying sound.

The door. I had forgotten to lock up.



“Hello, handsome! I just incidentally happened to be in the vicinity and remembered that I had a little problem with my bra. I thought you might be able to fix it.”

Was that some kind of joke? A dream? A nightmare?
I had expected a quiet day, selling some of-the-shelf items, doing some drawing, cutting and needling.
Now the biggest-breasted woman on our customer list was sitting in the backroom, hooked to a milking machine… and the only person who could ever come close to her had just walked through the door.

“Hello Aunt Gundi!”
“Oh, stop calling my aunt, dear! It makes me feel old. Do I look old?”

She didn’t. She looked gorgeous, as always, with Dora’s face just slightly aged, just slightly touched up by decent make-up. A figure that made you want to just sink in and drown. Breasts the size of…

What was that word again? Ah, yes: professionalism. I was a professional. Definitely a professional.

“Sure… Gundi. What is the problem? Can I see?”
I reached for her large shopping bag.

“No, no, no… that’s just some stuff I found. The bra… I’m wearing it!”
Of course she did.
There was a second, slightly smaller changing area next to where Martina was busy. It would have to do.
“Sure. Sure. Sure. Err… you can take it off over there and hand it to me.”

“Well… that’s kind of the problem. It’s kinda stuck, and I fear I’m going to break it if I try to wiggle… so… I need a helping hand.”

Of course she did. It had to be a dream, I had decided by now. Every second now I would wake up, with Dora in my arms.
But did I want to wake up before getting a glimpse of Gundi’s unfettered mams? No, I didn’t.

“Sure,” I kept repeating myself, “I’ll do my best.”



The reserve cubicle was smaller than the main one, and I kept close to the wall while Gundula removed the outer layers of her outfit. Finally she stood there, with just the massive brassiere covering her torso. She turned to present the offending detail. “I can’t get it open. Can you see anything?”

The clasp was broken. Slightly torn, and some of the… I counted… seven hooks had gotten stuck in the fabric. It had finally succumbed to its duty.
“I can remove it and fix it provisionally. But I’m not sure it will hold up.”
Carefully cutting the threads, I removed the clasp.
“Oh, that will be enough. I need a new one anyway. Maybe you could make it?”

“I… I don’t think I’m qualified yet to make something that… that…”

“…large?”
She had turned again and let go of the bra. Her bosom was just as impressive as I remembered it from her videos. Even more impressive.

Her boobs weren’t as full as Martina’s, but they reached down lower. I knew this proud curve, this swell, the prominent nipples. Dora’s breasts, just… bigger. Heavier. More saggy. More pronounced stretch marks. Phenomenal breasts.

“Like what you see?”, she interrupted my shameless staring.
“I… what? Err… sorry, I didn’t mean to…”
“It’s okay. They are something, aren’t they? And it’s not as if you haven’t seen them before.”

These words brought me back to the reality of the situation. “Err… yes. Sorry. Could you keep it down? There’s a customer waiting right next to us.”

She stopped. The cubicles were separated by a stack of shelves, hidden beneath a thick curtain, to give the best privacy possible. Still, a faint click-whirr-click could still be heard.
“Oh? Is there?

Another sound interrupted us. A horrible sound. The doorbell. I had forgotten to lock up. AGAIN!



I had to spend five minutes to convince the elderly gentleman than we did not sell orthopedic shoe inserts. He seemed a bit distracted by Gundi’s oversized bra I was still holding, but finally he left peacefully.

I decided against checking in on either of the women. Professional. I was a professional. This time I remembered to lock the front door and put the “private fitting in progress” sign in the window.
Back in our small office, the last of the separated areas, I started to work on fixing Gundi’s bra.

The shop was quiet- The thick textiles of the triple-layered curtains absorbed most sound and only if you listened carefully could you make out the faint clicking noise. Maybe something else.

Professional. First things first. Give Gundi her bra back. Have her leave without Martina getting noticed in her precarious situation. Get her… err… finished? Make a note to have Andrea set an appointment. Get some work done. Maybe make a sale. Meet with my girlfriend after work.

Professional. The second layer of my thoughts was anything but. I thought of Gundi, the young Gundi from the video getting gangbanged by three guys. I remembered Dora and me, suckling like calves on Martina’s gigantic cow udders.
Maybe I would have to do something about these thoughts before meeting up with Dora tonight. Properly and professionally, after I got both women safely out of the shop. It wasn’t worth losing good customers over.



It’s amazing what your hands are capable of doing while your mind is wandering. It had taken me almost no time to pick a fitting replacement clasp, align it properly, sew it on, run a successful test... all without really looking. I was getting good at that stuff. I was a professional!

With my mind now in a more relaxed state, I took the newly fixed piece and held it up. Upon closer inspection, it wasn’t that impressive. Beyond its size, it was rather bland. Not even that well made. Not like Andrea’s… not like ours, I added with a bit of pride.

We would make her a new one. Well, Andrea would. My mind started to wander again. Some day, I would create something like that, too. My masterpiece. A bra of that size. Or even of Martina’s size. For Dora!

Again, I shook out of it.

Take Gundi’s bra, hand it back to her, don’t stare while she’s putting it on again… deep breath… return to Martina, who would hopefully be finished by then, tell her that there was really nothing that I could do for her except make an appointment… get these two mega-mammed MILFs out of the shop and spend the rest of the day sorting yarn.

That’s the idea. That’s the plan. Breathe! Don’t explode! Survive, until the night, and then Dora and I would…
My dick agreed with the final stage, but wasn’t quite happy with the first steps. Didn’t matter, my mind was still the boss of my body! I was a fucking professional!



“Gundi? It’s done!” Carefully and quietly, I slipped into our secondary changing unit… and my professionalism level dropped. I seemed to have misplaced a customer – the cubicle was conspicuously lacking a big-breasted aunt.
I panicked, for a second, then paused. There had been no cries of outrage, no loud claims of violated privacy, no demands for the manager, the police or the court of human rights. She might just have gone to the bathroom.

My most private parts knew she had not. She was somewhere else. These two women, together, half-naked, engaged in… Stop it!
Taking a deep breath, I approached the main fitting room. “Everything OK in there?”

“Sure, come and join us!”, came the response from the other side of the curtain, then some giggling. Giggling, as if it was a couple of schoolgirls.
I expected the worst, but was met with an innocent looking scene. As innocent as it could look, with enough chest meat on display to fill a dozen titty magazines.

“You fixed it?”, Gundi beamed at me. “See, I told you he was a true artist!”, she addressed Martina, who was now starting to blush. She was still hooked to her machine. At least, one of her breasts was… the other had a smudge of bright red on it. A smudge that was just the color of Aunt Gundi’s lipstick.
“You were gone so long, dear, and I got bored, but a good job takes time, I know that, but now I have to run.” Chattering without pause, she took her bra from my hands. “Didn’t want to keep you. Both of you. It was so nice meeting you, Mrs. Müller, and I’m sure to see you again. Soon, I hope. Think about it, will you?”

Watching her dress was almost as enticing as the opposite. With practiced moves, Gundi lifted her huge breasts, put on the bra backwards, closed the hooks, moved it around and finally eased her famous assets into the deep cups.
Quickly she put on blouse and blazer and went for the door.

I unlocked it for her; she turned and, completely unexpectedly, asked: “Oh, what I wanted to ask you… do you sleep with my daughter?” – “What? No!” – “Not? That’s… good to know.”

She gave me a quick kiss on the cheek and was gone, leaving me alone with my embarrassment.
And Martina! Quickly I went back to my amused customer.

“She is quite…”, she started.
“Direct? Rude? Offensive?”, I blurted out.
“…special”, Martina finished her thought. “And direct, yes.”

“I must apologize. I wouldn’t have though she would just… bother you. I hope she wasn’t too intrusive?”

Unconsciously, her hand went to her nipple. The free one. The one with the smudge. It was a rather big smudge, I couldn’t stop noticing. Dammit: professional, remember that!

“It was nice to meet her at last. Dora had told me so much about her.”
Her fingers caressed the engorged teat.
“She’s… an impressive person. And very busty.”
Her hand took a firmer grasp on her own bustiness. She was still leaking. I was trying my best to keep my gaze on her face.
“She’s even bigger than Dora”, Martina kept going. “And her daughter? Is she as big?”

“Not quite as big as Gundula.” The image of Mel’s melons appeared in my mind, unbidden.

“But you don’t sleep with her. Do you sleep with Gundula?”

“What? No! No. No, I couldn’t…”

“You’re such a good boyfriend. Faithful, loyal. I can’t be easy, being surrounded by all these gorgeous women. But you’re true and steadfast.”

I wasn’t. Well, I was, but not really. The relationship and trust between Dora and me had reached a point where our bond was beyond the pettiness of jealousy. Though Dora kept her escapades to her female friends, and I… how could I find a girl with similar appeal, without Dora immediately pouncing on her as well?

“I can’t imagine how you do it, with women like Andrea or Gundula or her daughter around. Or me.”
By now Martina had removed the cup from her other breast and was giving the puppies a thorough massage.
Unabashedly, she looked at me, directly at me, and it took all my willpower not to stare at the masses of breast meat getting mauled. “Professional!”, the voice of my mind howled.

“I want you to fuck me!” – “What? No! I can’t…” – “Yes, you can! Fuck me! Here and now! I need to be fucked! Please!”



Oh, bugger it! What good is professionalism without the perks? I dove straight into the deep valley of her gigantic cleavage.
She smelled of milk and sweat and a subtle perfume. I felt her gargantuan udders surround me, engulf me, swallow me whole. My hands reached out, trying to grasp as much of the soft flesh as I could. She joined in, trying to guide my fingers to her nips.
It was impossible. They were somewhere behind my head. I shook myself free and emerged from the fleshy depths.
“Sorry”, she gasped, “they can be a bit too much too handle.”

I just smiled at her. Sure, both of these flesh mountains together were hard to grasp… but I was a professional! I knew how to pace myself, to structure my work, to divide the load.

I started with Mega-Mammary No.1, Right Side. The gigantic heap of creamy wobbling flesh overhung her knees slightly, and then just moved back to rest on her thighs as she reclined further into the chair. Getting down on ground in front of her, I had to lean just a tiny bit forward to have perfect access to the fat, still dripping nipple.
I shoved my hands under the heavy mass, just for a bit more control and caress. Lifting them in that position would have been impossible… just not enough leverage.

The nipple was enormously large in my mouth. I tasted her sweet milk and heard her moan softly.
“Yes, suck me! Suckle on my teats, Karl! I’m your private dairy cow!”

In surprise, I let go of my suck-toy and looked up to her.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she apologized again. “My husband… he never does anything like that. He doesn’t appreciate me! He doesn’t even want to touch me anymore!”

Instead of words, I just switched sides, to show that I could appreciate what she had to offer. Her left teat tasted like strawberry. Gundi’s lipstick.
“It’s a burden to be so huge! ... Oh! … Not the weight. That too. … Oh, yes! … The looks and the ridi… ai! … ridicule. Yes, suck me harder!”

I was only too happy to oblige.
“But I just love to be milked. I like to have my breasts handled… my… huge… UDDERS!”
Wetness spread over my chest, as she joined in and started to handle her other milktank again.
With both spigots now working at full capacity, she soon was overcome with a wave of ecstasy.

“That was… great! But I still need a real fuck.”
She looked around in the small secluded area, perched in her chair. “But…”
“… there’s a very comfortable and accommodating couch in the main showroom. Perfect for such a task.”

“Oh, you’re a bad boy!” She struggled to raise from her seat and, a bit unsteady on her feet, walked through the dividing curtains. The swaying motion of her fantastic melons was mesmerizing.
“You have done that before, haven’t you? Fucked your customers? Oh, I guess you get all sorts of beautiful busty young girls here, don’t you?”

“No! I wouldn’t… I never… I couldn’t… well… Dora and I did…”
“You’re blushing! That’s so cute! I can’t wait for you to show me what Dora and you did…”

She let herself fall to the couch, which indeed had seen some heavy action, and was constructed to withstand rough treatment. I checked to front door once more, while she got rid of skirt and slip.

“Come to me! Show me what I can expect!”
I quickly undressed… not very professionally, but efficiently. Her gaze fixated my erect member.
“Nice! You’re a well-build young man.”

I never had any delusions about my size. I knew I couldn’t compete with Teddy, or with the old grandfather from the lake… but I was comfortable, confident and competent.
Martina watched with hungry eyes as I searched my wallet for a condom.
“And a well-prepared young man. Now give it to me!”

Her private parts were covered with coarse dark hair, and I admired the way she reached around her magnificent whoppers to spread her labia for me. No need for extended foreplay… she just wanted to be stuffed.
I slid into her well lubricated hole and started to thrust. Her broad hips quickly adjusted to my rhythm, and her huge mountainous tits began to shake. She wrapped her arms closely around her chest to keep them under control. She managed. Barely.

“Come on, fuck me, my young bull! Fuck your little dairy cow! Oh, I can feel it coming! Oh, yes, yes…. Yes!”
She shook, lost the grip on her heavyweight hooters and almost fell from the couch.
Panting heavily, she raised herself up.
“Oh, it looks like you’re still up for a second round.”

I hadn’t even finished my first round yet, and I was burning to continue. “Turn around!”
She was quick to respond, getting on all fours and letting her super-sized saggers hang. As much as she was able to. On her elbows, her twin monsters were compressed up to her chin, and when she heaved herself up to extend her arms, her huge areolae were still pressed flat against the sofa covers.

I entered her from behind and took up my routine again. Her well-rounded buttcheeks shook more than her titanic tits, stuck between her torso and the couch’s cushions.
Under my hard thrusts and the enormous weight of her heavy hooters, she couldn’t hold that position for long. She collapsed over her soft pillows and struggled to get back up, finally managing to cross her arms in front of her undulating udders. They spread out underneath her to the sides as if she was resting on a pair of quivering, shaking, wobbling beach balls.

The sight was mesmerizing. She had a broad muscular back, necessary to carry all that weight around, and the few extra pounds that graced her stout body. Still, the sheer amount of tit flesh visible even from behind was unbelievable. Carefully and without pausing in my efforts, I reached out and grabbed as much of the soft flesh as I could reach.

Her moaning turned into short, staccato yelps as I relentlessly kept pounding her hot pussy. She writhed and wiggled her ass in sync with my movements, enjoying ever second.

This time, she lasted longer, but still she was first to climax. Her knees buckled, her body relaxed and almost slid from the sofa. Not far… but far enough for her saggers to collapse on the floor.

“I… I… oh, fuck, that was great. Could you help me up, please?”
It was a bit of a struggle, between her weak knees, her unmanageable mams and my still throbbing erection. She lounged on the sofa, helpless as a newborn kitten.

“Oh, you haven’t finished yet!”, she exclaimed when she noticed my aroused state. “I didn’t know a man could…”
She blushed at the involuntary admission about her husband.

“Dora has trained me well”, I grinned. “I usually can manage to make her scream three or four time before she allows me to come.”

“Three or four...? Oh, I’m sorry, I’m not sure I can manage the third round now.”
Indeed, she was breathing heavily. Her huge bosom heaved like an ocean.

“Don’t worry. I’m fine”, I assured her, but she wouldn’t have it.

“No, no, I cannot leave you like that! Would you like… I don’t know…” Her cheeks got even redder. “I’ve seen it in a naughty movie… come between my tits?”

Would I like? Of course I would! These mountains of flesh begged to be decorated. Quickly I got rid of the rubber and plunged my rod into her deep cleavage.

She didn’t need to lift them up. She couldn’t lift them up… but even resting in her lap, her boobs created a perfect shape to be fucked. All she needed to do was to apply a little pressure to the sides... as task in which I was only too happy to support her.

Her bosom was fantastic. The skin soft and warm, and her cleavage so deep that I could go in full length, straight in, without touching her ribcage. A tit fucking dream.

Now she started to moan, and I knew she was playing with her nipples again. I strengthen my grip to increase the pressure and felt her go along. The feeling was overwhelming. The sight was overwhelming… and I came, came, came… emptying my balls between her juggernauts. Not a drip was visible, not a splash escaped from her cavernous cleavage.



A short awkward silence followed. She hoisted her breasts to the side and looked down into the long valley where my cum slowly ran down her chest.
“Wow! So much! You… do you have some tissues?”

“Oh. Yeah. Sure. You can clean up in the bathroom.”
I pointed her in the right direction, and she got up, picked up her clothes and disappeared behind the curtain.

A great professional I was! First day along in the shop, and fucking the customers. Literally. Great job, boy! I observed the scene. We have made quite some mess. The sofa covers were wet with a variety of bodily fluids. Mostly milk. Well... I knew where Andrea kept the spares, for a situation just like this one. The air was musky… I would have to do something about that, before another customer came in.

I started to clean up the room, just as Martina had finished to clean up herself. She went past me, to the changing room, and when she returned, she was fully dressed again. Prim and proper, with the decorum suitable for a corporate representative.

But she smiled as she came close, stood up on her toes and gave me a chaste peck on the cheek.
“Thank you. Your service has been… extraordinary. I would recommend you, if I could mention it to anyone.”
Then she couldn’t hold it any longer and broke into a fit of giggles. “No, really! It was amazing. Don’t make a face as if you had broken the rules of professional conduct. I wanted it. I needed it!”

What else could I do but join in the laughter? Dora would find it hilarious… of course I had to tell her the whole story.

“And I’ll be back, I promise!” She got serious. A bit, at least. “For an appointment. I still need that new bra. I’ll call Andrea… and I do hope you’ll be there as well.”



I kept the front door open when she left, to air out the room. I cleaned up all potential inappropriate signs of illicit activity. I busied myself with going through the stock, ordering missing items, sorting the inventory… and my thoughts. And I couldn’t stop smiling like an idiot.

I even managed to sell a couple of items to walk-in customers. Standard models, out of the box, nothing special, basic G-cups. All the while thinking of the mammoth mountains I had had the pleasure to handle. All without dropping a step, saying a wrong word, casting a wrong glance.

I was a professional! I loved my job!



“Hey! So, how was your first day alone? I hope all went smoothly? I hope you’re not too tired?”
Dora had met me at the door of her parents’ house. She look at me sensually. Expectantly.

“Never too tired for you, beautiful”, I managed to respond as she came closer and started to rub my chest. She looked at me like a cat at a bowl full of cream.

Before I could get in another word, another figure entered the hallway. A stout, short, round and top heavy figure.

“I can’t thank you enough for taking care of her, Dora”, Martina said, hugging the sleeping infant to her chest. “It was so good to have… “ - she looked at me with a beaming smile – “… a bit of time for myself.”

“Oh, she’s a little angel! We had fun playing together… and I hope, you did, too.”
Dora also looked directly at me now, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

I was dumbstruck. I couldn’t find words.

“Oh, there’s my ride! Thank you again, both of you, for everything. And we’ll see each other, soon!”
With that, Martina was out of the door and into the waiting cab.

I was dumbstruck. I couldn’t find any words. I should have known. Dora, the Master Schemer.

“Cat got your tongue?” Dora the scheming cat rubbed herself against me. “Come on! You should have known! I’d do anything to help out a friend… but just so that you know… the next time, you’ll have to share her!”
 
Dear Groffi, I very much like the Dora stories and especially this current chapter in which you brought back Martina into the story line. Beautifully elaborated! I am not sure if you liked to receive ideas from your readers. Assuming that is the case can I submittier 2 ideas. First is that Dora agrees that Martina and our male hero go to a exclusive Hotel with pool and lots of saunas for a romantic Weekend. What our hero does not know is that Martina has invited a female friend of her who is even bustier than Martina and has long leg’s. A Weekend begins which is more sexy than our hero could have ever thought of. The all night long threesome will bring the stamina of our hero at a test of its limits.
The second idea is that Dora and her male hero Go back to the camping Site with the nudist beach. This time they are accompanied by Teddy and Mel. These 4 overly sexy Young people meet a couple at the Nudist Beach. This couple is a seventh Wonder of the world. The man is hung like a mule whereas the Woman has waist Long milkers that are huge beyond imagination. After a sunny day of Volleyball, Swimming and barbecue the fucking starts and each of the men get to fuck each of the women. Our hero is jealous at first as Dora gets fucked hard by the new male friend with the huge cock. But once he has the chance to be ridden by Mel with her knockers in his face he has the feeling that the sky has no limits. Everyone is happy and the fucking goes on and on until the morning sun rises at the nudist beach....
What do you think? :unsure::rolleyes:
 
Thank you all for your patience, and a huge "thank you" to Volltrotti909 for some story ideas. It may not be exactly as he imagined, but I still hope he - and all of you - will enjoy this new chapter.

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Part 47: Clash of the titans

“Push harder!”, Andrea commanded, “It has to go the whole way in.”
“Are you sure? It’s so tight… I don’t want to tear anything”, I managed to reply.
“Don’t you trust me? Push, boy, push, I say!”

I did as she asked, and the effort paid off. The stiff contraption overcame whatever resistance it had faced and slid into place.

“That’s it”, Andrea sighed with relief. “That should improve the structural integrity, while keeping it flexible.”
She looked down at the truly gigantic bra that we had just fitted with new carbon-fiber reinforcements.
“All that remains is fine adjustments, and we will have to do that on location.”

I asked, “At the show? You want to present it? But who could ever model that?”
Andrea’s face broke into the broadest grin I had ever seen.
“Who indeed… but the woman it was made for?”
“Martina?”
“The one and only!”

I couldn’t prevent a blush creeping up my face, but Andrea didn’t notice.

“In fact, she was quite eager to do it”, she continued. “Perhaps my charms have finally turned her.”
She touched the soft shiny fabric lovingly.

Martina was the one customer Andrea had jealously kept to herself. I hadn’t even been allowed in the recent fittings… that was also the reason I had missed this new development. It was also the reason why I hadn’t told my boss about what had happened before Mrs. Müller’s recent fittings.

Andrea was still monologueing.
“What better place than a well-equipped spa, right? A nice swim, a trip to the sauna, a relaxing massage… a fancy dinner… no, room service… a few drinks… soft, king-size beds… and then, finally…”
My shameless nymphomaniac boss was planning her conquest.

“You mean, you never had… before… with her?”
“No, I never had, before, with her”, Andrea aped me. “What do you think I am? A shameless nymphomaniac? I’m a professional! I have a reputation to uphold! And I have a well-tuned sense if someone is amendable to my advances. Dora… I had taken her measure within five minutes. But Martina had never shown any interest.”

She turned a questioning look at me. “Until now.”

Quickly I tried to change the topic.
“I wish you luck. So, what else do we take? Do you have any other models? What sizes should we pack?”


Her suspicion disappeared. “Nah, the normal stuff I’ll do myself. All by myself. No rest for the weary.”

She paused for a moment, considering the potential competition.
“There surely will be some big-titted bimbos, who will come up to my size. It’s the bi-annual plus-sized lingerie convention for a reason. But Martina will surely win us this year’s trophy.”

Her gaze went over the shelves, along the lines of bras that dwarfed her own massive M-cups.
“Still, it would have been nice to show off some of the non-standard pieces. A damn shame that Dora can’t come with us.”

. . .

“A darn shame I cannot come with you!”, Dora lamented for the fourth time.
“You have exams this week. How many exams did you have?”, I responded for the fourth time.
“Three. Oh, I know! I know it! I totally get it! But it’s such a darn shame!”

Still grumbling, she buried her head in the books again.

“A week! A full week! How will I survive all that stress without a tiny bit of relief?”

“Four days. There’s always your little black rubber friend.”

Her head shot up. “A dildo? I’m left behind with a toy, while you have fun with Martina and Andrea and whatever big-titted bimbos will be around. It’s so unfair!”

“I could… give you a long-term prophylactic.”
I moved closer and tried to go for a hug, but she evaded.
“No. Go away! I have to study, and you have to pack, and if we… just go!”

She didn’t evade when I started to kiss her hair though, and her “Miss you, miss you, miss you already. Till next week!” when we finally parted didn’t sound that angry anymore.

I would miss her just as much… but I still looked forward to whatever big-titted bimbo I would run into.

. . .

The journey had been uneventful. We had collected Martina, and the greetings had been nothing but professional. She had been polite but curt with me, and avoided my gaze, without being too obvious about it.
Andrea didn’t notice; she was very friendly and enthusiastic and didn’t even notice that Martina mostly was monosyllabic and noncommittal.

When we had finally reached our destination, Andrea went ahead to check us in. Martina and I had the first moment alone.

“You haven’t told her about…” we both said in unison, and started to laugh.
She recovered first. “No, of course not! I would be so embarrassed.”
“Yeah”, I agreed, “I would never want to embarrass you. She has no need to know, so why bother her?”

I paused for a moment. There was something else bothering me.
“Say… you’ve met with Dora a number of times. So… err… have you… did you ever…?”

Her smile returned. A sly little smile. “Is that something you have need to know?”
“No! No, not at all. It’s just… We have no secrets, Dora and I. We share everything…”
“… and for that, I am very grateful”, she cut me off. “So if Dora hasn’t said anything… what does that tell you?”

Not what I wanted to know. Not that I needed to know… I was just curious. And it might provide a chance to… well, I would have to ask Dora directly. Or not. Maybe just set her up, as she had done with me.
Though she might be easier to convince than Martina… Good heavens, what was I thinking! Remember, boy: professional!

Me and my big mouth. I tried to change the subject. Badly.
“So… it will be almost a whole week. Do you think you can manage it, without problems?”

Her sly smile got serious again and she seemed a bit shocked. “Why, I understand that you young folks have different needs, but when you get older… and I’m a married woman… so… yes, surely I can manage for a week without…”
She stopped as she saw me blush now.
“Oh… you mean about the milk! Yes… yes… I’m prepared. I’m always prepared.”
Her face turned towards the building, where Andi was now coming back to us.
“But maybe I may need some helping hands?”

. . .

“Will you look at that!”, Andrea exclaimed as she led us into the lobby.
It was impressive indeed. This wasn’t your run-of-the-mill international-hotel-chain concrete block architecture. This was a real true luxury hotel. From the polished wood panels, to the lush velvet drapes, the polished brass fittings, up to the huge crystal chandeliers… this proclaimed class. Nobility.

“Build in 1882 in the historism style, it was the preferred health resort of King Ludwig II.”, I cited from the brochure I had briefly skimmed at home. “Or Ludwig III. Or maybe Ludwig I.”
“Luiza!”, Andrea said between clenched teeth
“No, I’m sure it was a Ludwig”, I said, but my boss was already turning away - away from the tall woman at the front desk.

Too late. We had been noticed.
“Andruśa!”, the woman called out and stormed towards my squirming boss.
Andrea tried to escape from the bear hug, but without success.

I marveled at the way their bodies met. The new woman was already a sight to behold.
She was tall, taller than Andrea. Taller than me. A cascade of long wavy blonde hair poured down to her hips, playing along nicely with the yellow dress she wore. A short dress, that perfectly set of her legs, long legs, right down to the floor. She wore plain white slippers, which accentuated just how tall she was.

She was at least 20cm taller than Andrea, which meant Andi’s face was flush with the yellow woman’s cleavage. An enormous cleavage, formed by two full firm globes of flesh sitting high on her chest.
Andrea’s own massive udders were much softer, squishier and hung much lower… they were getting pressed into Yellow’s curves.

“Oh, Andi, darling! How very nice to see you again!”, the yellow lady fluted, took a step back and did an intense survey of my boss.
“You look… fine… but… forgive me if I’m prying… is your business not doing well?”

Andrea’s face turned sour. Usually so well-dressed, she had chosen just a casual shirt-and-jeans combo for comfort on the journey. I knew that right now, she regretted that deeply, but before she could answer, the woman in yellow had already gone on.

“Darling, don’t you remember what they taught us? Presentation is the most important part of business.”
She deigned to take notice of Martina.
“But it seems you always find something extraordinary to present, don’t you?”

Andrea grumbled an answer that didn’t sound either happy or polite, but Yellow had already grabbed her and Martina’s arm and dragged my companions away. Her only acknowledgement of me was a short turn of her angelic face. “Take the luggage to my room, while you are at it. Good boy!”



Yes, I know, I’m a pushover. Or maybe I had just become too accustomed to being ordered around by big-breasted women.
It had taken me three runs in total, before I had figured out our rooms and distributed all the trunks, bags and suitcases respectively.

The hotel complex was large and the layout not very intuitive. I wandered around aimlessly, looking for the rest of the crew, until a friendly staff member set me on the right course. To the bar.

I heard them before I saw them. Or, more precisely, I heard her, telling my friends and everyone else within earshot: “… nothing of that Russian slapdash. I’ve found a fantastic surgeon in Riga, just a jump across the border, who does terrific work. I’ve gotten to 12,000cc. For now - there’s always room for improvement, right?”

Her gaze went to Martina, who tried to be invisible behind her glass of sparkling water.
“How much did you get yours filled with? They’re quite sag… hm… well… not very firm. But I guess you were trying for the natural look.”

“Err… they are natural”, Martina peeped shyly.

“Natural? All of it? My, my, my, Andrea, just where do you always find these… specimen?”

“They find me. Because I do good work. For real people”, Andrea mumbled, but Yellow was not deterred.
“Sure you do, sure you do, darling! But still… what you couldn’t have done, if you had decided to work for me. What we couldn’t have done with material like that!”

Before Andrea could respond to that, Yellow’s attention had shifted to a small spindly man trying to push a huge trunk into the bar.
“Marcel, you nitwit! The preparing room, I told you! Why would I want that here? I don’t know what I pay you for!”

And without a look, word or wave, she left, shooing to poor little guy out of the bar. My eyes followed her movements, marveling at the way her huge globes swayed left to right, right to left with every step.

. . .

“A friend of yours?”, I asked tentatively, as soon as I was sure Yellow wasn’t coming back.
“Friend, hah!” Andrea looked at her Cola-Mix as if she could turn it into a vodka-martini by sheer willpower. “We studied together. Fashion and textile design. In Berlin. And then she went to open that huge studio in Warsaw, and wanted to steal me and my ideas. She was a snotty bitch back then already.”

“She’s quite big in the bust, though”, Martina commented, clearly impressed.

“She’s not big! I am big! You are… bigger. She is just ‘enhanced’. ‘Advertising’, she called it, back when she got her first 1,500cc implants. I call it pure jealousy! Boob envy!
But she’s been true to her calling… that is the customer base she caters for. All of her creations are frilly and flimsy, without much structural integrity. Because who needs support when your tits are like concrete?
And so she jets around the world, wherever some movie star or trophy wife or young wannabe it-girl needs a coverings for her new implants.”

She sighed, looking into the dark liquid in her glass.
“And I’m stuck in the boonies. Doing chores. Selling trifles.”
She took a sip, surprised it still hadn’t turned into alcohol.

“You’re unfair to yourself”, Martina spoke up before I could. “You’re well-known. Well-respected. With a large group of customers from far and wide. You’re doing real work, for real people, with real…”
She fell silent.

“… real mammary marvels made by Mother Nature! Right? Right!”
With newfound determination, Andrea drowned her soda. “And it’s not as if this here is a competition.”

“Err, boss… wasn’t there a trophy for “advancements in fashion and technology of large-size undergarments”?
Me and my big mouth.



Martina had excused herself… to take care of things, as she called it. By which she meant milking, of course.
Andrea and I did the same. Not the milking, also of course. But we took care of things. Or rather: “The Thing”.

“It’s really not very stylish, is it?”
Andrea looked skeptically at the squat shape that took most of the space on the bed. Huge round glistening insect eyes looked back at you… if you let your imagination wander a bit.

“Perhaps a bit of lace? But where would…” I tried to imagine some frilly stuff.

“… Lace? Are you insane? She would look like a fat ballerina! . . . um… but perhaps some embroidery. Or velvet trim… we haven’t brought any velvet, have we?”

“No, I fear we haven’t.”

“Well… can’t change it. And whatever… I want to figure out the maternity version before going into any aesthetic detours.” Andrea caressed the soft shining fabric.

“Perhaps we should come up with a better name first. You can’t present the thing as ‘The Thing’, can you?”

“I will think of something.” Andrea paused. “But for now, that’s all we can do. Take the afternoon off… and I’ll do my best to keep her greedy paws away from Martina.”



Thus dismissed, I went and checked out the rest of the hotel. I met some of the other participants of the event: young hipsters, solid old gentlemen, stately matrons.
Back in the bar, I ran into the man who had been with Yellow. He waved me over to his table, where he was sitting with a gaggle of young women.

“You’re with Mrs. Hoffmann?” – “Yes, I’m her apprentice.” – “Apprentice, huh? Want a drink? Don’t worry… it’s only fancied up orange juice. Not that I wouldn’t appreciate something stronger.”

He had the same expression as Andrea earlier.

“Your boss is difficult?” I inquired.

“Boss? Oh, Luiza, you mean. She’s my partner, not my boss. Junior partner, in fact. But she’s the face of the company… or the… well… you know.”

The gaggle giggled. The man said something in a slavic language, they responded in the same tongue and then giggled even more.
“They don’t speak any German. But they think you’re cute. Airheads!”

I tried my cutest smile, which resulted in another round of giggles. But before I could try out my skills in wordless flirting, loud voices from the entrance stopped any attempt.

“…but you simply must model for me! A woman of your larger-than-life beauty deserves to be presented in the best of outfits… and I know what my dear Andruśa considers ‘nice lingerie’. Our figures aren’t that different, and I have everything I need to adapt one of my showpieces for you.”

Yellow had linked arms with Martina and was push-pulling her along, talking down at our prime – our only – model. Andrea was trailing behind the pair, murder on her face.
As soon as she had reached our table, she switched her attention to the young man.
“Marcel, don’t you think we should use our art to turn this duckling into a swan? Yes? See, I knew it! So why are you still sitting here? There’s work to do! We need the spares, and the tools, and some room… see to it! No to ruszamy!”

She almost pulled the guy from his chair, turned to the gaggle, said something in foreign and send the flock flying as well. The girls giggled as they left.

Andrea made a final attempt to stop her yellow colleague.
“You can’t just… she’s our model! Just can’t just kidnap her. We have to prepare, things to do, stuff to adjust… you… you… just…”

To our surprise, it was Martina who responded. “Oh, I thought we were all done with the fitting? Everything ready to go, you said? I wouldn’t mind to help out your friend… she said it’s so hard to find women like me to work on. You don’t need to worry… of course I model your bra, and we’ll have enough time to prepare.”

Andi looked like a deer in the headlights. “But… but… I thought we were going to the sauna tonight…”

Luiza listened attentively. “Sauna? What a gorgeous idea! There’s no need to cancel that! We’ll do some preliminary work, and then have a nice sweat together. I’ll invite you to dinner afterwards, what do you say? Deal? Deal! Till later then!”

And off she went, without waiting for an answer, dragging Martina with her.

“Damn this woman!”, Andrea growled. “You! You don’t have anything planned for later, have you? Sauna! You’ll join us. I need you to make sure she doesn’t do anything indecent!”

An apprentice’s job is never finished. I nodded loyally. “But… you also won’t be able to do anything… indecent”, I added with a smirk.

Me and my big mouth.



A long walk, snack and shower later, I stood at the door to the hotel’s spacious sauna area. I didn’t really care about the order my boss gave me. I was here for my own benefits, my own pleasure.
Sure, I didn’t mind appreciating Andrea’s heavy full tits. Or Martina’s monumental mammaries. And I couldn’t deny being interested to see Yellow’s overfilled orbs in all their naked glory.
But I knew nothing would happen. Nothing serious. Not that “something serious” was really a good idea do to in the sauna.

I glanced at the clock on the wall… it was the time Andrea had given me. Were they already in one of the cabins? I was reluctant to check, but right on time, I heard their voices behind me.

Martina cast a questioning glance in my direction. I cast an admiring glance back. She was wrapped in the largest towel the hotel could offer, and even that barely managed to cover up all of her voluptuous body.

A sauna attendant appeared, together with an elderly couple and led us to one of the rooms. That ended all further ideas of “something indecent”.
In every good frivolous movie, Martina’s towel would have caught in the doorframe, leading to a short but exciting revealing of her huge udders. In reality she had enough practice with squeezing her bulky chest through narrow doorways.
But it was a sauna, after all. The revelation would happen, just in a more controlled and less humorous manner.

The old gentleman was already ogling our buxom beauties. If they noticed, they didn’t care. They unwrapped the towels and spread them on the lowest level. Two pairs of gigantic tits swayed and wobbled as the girls adjusted their seating.
The seniors had taken seat as far as possible from the masses of boobs, both of them keeping their nakedness covered, while I took my place on the opposite side of the room.

Just as we had settled, and Andrea already had a look of relief on her face, the door opened again, allowing Yellow to enter.
She cast a radiant smile into the room, acknowledged the elders with a small nod, me not at all, and sat down right next to my friends.
I heard the old man exhale in astonishment as Yellow uncovered her zeppelins. It was astonishing to see how much human skin could be stretched.

She obviously basked in the attention she was getting. She was very much aware that even in this company, her assets stood out. She wiggled her butt on the white towel, trying to get comfortable, turning and twisting her torso and trying to show off her massiveness from the best possible angle. Finally, with a relaxed sigh, she settled back into the same position as the other women: slightly leaning back, resting on the upper step, chest out and showing the glorious bounty to the world. Well… to me and the incredulously staring seniors.

The three graces could not have been more different.
Andrea, despite her huge bust, was still the smallest of the three. In that stance, her fat hangers just slightly rested on her upper thighs, the large oval areola with the prominent nipples being half hidden.
Luiza, sitting on Martina’s other side, demonstrated the marvels that modern cosmetic surgery was able to achieve. Her globes were bigger than basketballs, and just as firm. Even at her height, the sheer size of these globes still hid all of her toned torso, but they stood out proud and tall, projecting almost a foot from her chest. The small pale nips were pushed outward by the volume of her overfilled implants.
Martina was in the middle, taking up enough space for two. Her enormous breasts did rest on her thighs, covering them almost to the knees… and still overflowing them, spreading to the sides, hanging down and resting on the large towel left and right of her body. Her dark hubcap-sized areolae alone seemed large enough to cover Yellow’s huge titanium-tits.

I wondered how Luiza ever thought to change one of her bras to fit these leviathans.
Andrea appeared to have the same thought. She turned to her rival, a sly smile on her lips.
“So, how’s your adaptation coming along? Given up yet? It’s a monumental task, and I wouldn’t blame you for throwing in the towel.”

Yellow’s expression turned sour for a blink, and then settled on an arrogant snarl. “Ah, poot. Just a few snags, nothing too worrisome.”
She turned around, her monster-boobs almost hitting Martina in the face.
“After all… you did it, so you can bet that I can manage.”

Andrea’s smile widened into a grin. “Oh, a bet? Sure! Say… if your bra makes it to the end of the catwalk, I’ll work for you. On one project.”
Luiza raised her eyebrows. “Really? That’s an offer. And if, against all odds, I should lose?”
“Hm… you’ll do a design for us. Something pretty and frilly. Just one. Deal?”
Luiza considered it for just a second. “Deal!”
She reached out over Martina’s body, and Andrea’s hand met her halfway. Three pairs of huge tits met with a ‘thump’, and from the other side of the room, a loud groan could be heard.
The old gentleman had come.



The elder couple had left just as the sauna attendant had returned to execute the infusion. The man had lamented loudly, while his wife had kept berating him for his inappropriate behavior.
We enjoyed the remainder of our session. Andrea and Martina had exchanged a conspiratorial wink that Luiza didn’t notice. She was already planning what task to set Andrea on… and then got distracted when she realized that there was another man in the room. One who sat there, just enjoying the heat, showing no signs of arousal.
She even tried to get me excited, turning her enormous orbs towards me and giving them a little shake… a little shake large enough to cause an earthquake.
I just sat there and smiled. Sometimes it pays off to be a professional. She didn’t try more than once.

Luiza left us after the first session. The rest of us went for a second round, after cooling of in the showers. Andrea and Martina spend most of it quietly whispering, and I didn’t want to disturb the two lovebirds.
Finally, after another shower, we rejoined Luiza, who made good of her promise of dinner. Marcel, her partner, was less than thrilled with the idea of having to adapt one of Luiza’s bras to Martina’s massiveness… but Yellow was relentless. “I know I can do it!”

Our table got a lot of attention, from both the staff and the other guests. There had been a little… disturbance… when Martina had joined us. She had dressed up for the evening, wearing a traditional Dirndl, showing a massive cleavage, which was only exaggerated by her current a-bit-too-small bra.
A waiter had stopped to let her pass… and to stare into the deep valley of Martina’s bosom. One of his colleagues had been distracted by Luiza’s rack, proudly presented in her low cut yellow evening dress. A third waiter had his eyes set on the Giggle-Girl-troupe, who showed off their own enhanced endowments to good effect.
The resulting three-way collision had been loud and messy, and had drawn in additional staff members. It had taken a while to clean up, because at least half of those involved spend more time trying to get more glimpses at the combined expanse of soft flesh than on the cleaning job.

The other “victim” of this assembly of busty beauty had been the elderly gentlemen whom we had already met in the sauna. His seating had offered him a perfect view of both Martina’s and Luiza’s barely covered tits, and their way of sitting slightly sideways to get to their plates had been enough to push him into… hm… some sort of seizure. The wife had chittered angrily with her better half, but then had been speeding him out of the dining room, trying to cover up the front of his trousers the best she could.



The next day was just as relaxing… at least for Andi and me. Our model was busy elsewhere, Andrea’s own presentation pieces were prepared as best as we could. So we took our time until the evening event.
In the morning, we went to the pool, causing another minor situation. Andrea had felt left out last night – her own fault for choosing a conservative high-necked business costume. Now, she compensated for that with the skimpiest bikini possible… just three tiny triangles barely covering the pubic area and the nipples.
It was, following the natural course of stories, the old gentleman who fell victim to her radiant appeal. The movements under the newspaper covering his crotch left no doubt about his activities, and his missus just rolled her eyes in desperation.
When Luiza joined us, demonstrating the usefulness of her chest as flotation devices, he didn’t even bother with the newspaper anymore. I pitied his wife… married to an obvious tit-lover, and having herself nothing to offer in that department.
Martina had been left in Marcel’s capable hand… trust Yellow to push the hard work on someone else. But I guess it was for the best: her vast bosom wobbling around in a swimsuit might have been too much for the senior’s heart.

After lunch, we joined some of the other presentations and lectures. Andi was a great teacher and master, but a true professional should learn from as many sources as possible.

This then lead directly into the afternoon presentations. Only two other designers showed their works, and both of them specialized in women of the fuller form.
I was more interested in what followed. Luiza’s girls drew a lot of attention, and even my boss had to admit that her colleague was very good at selling her work.
To keep the focus on the models, she had dressed very conservatively for that occasion… still in yellow. The contrast to the busty Giggle-Girls, now prancing on the stage in seriousness and almost non-existent underwear was stunning. Each model and each new piece of lingerie gained a lot of applause from the attentive audience.

She had kept Martina hidden till last, announcing her as “the greatest challenge she had ever faced… and mastered”. The work that would cement her status as premier artist in clothing both natural and enhanced busts.
Andrea let off a sound somewhere between a snort and a giggle, but she didn’t say anything, for now Martina had entered the stage.

She didn’t have the toned slim figure of Luiza’s young models, but she bore her extra years and weight with a regal posture. With her extraordinary bust pushed up by the shiny bra she sported, her curves were simply breathtaking.
I had to admit that Luiza – or Marcel – had done an impressive job with adjusting and expanding a bra that was meant to simply adorn a pair of tits that were basically self-carrying.

And the compromises that had been made did show. My trained eye could see the seams where the cups had been extended to accommodate the additional volume of flesh… and they still were too small. The bands had been widened and strengthened, but they strained visibly under the enormous load.

It was a masterpiece. It was efficient yet appealing. Covering as well as accentuating the vastness of the breasts. Stylish and sexy. An appreciative gasp run through the room… both for the garment as for its wearer.

And yet… as Martina started to walk forward, the limits of the bra showed. Her breasts were so full, so massive, that the fabric almost tore from the ordeal. Her juggs swayed and wobbled with every step she took… massive and heavy on her chest. Very heavy.

“I told her not to milk today.” Andrea whispered to me. “All that extra weight…”
“Isn’t that cheating?”, I replied in the same hushed voice.
“Bah… in love and fashion, all things are allowed! And if that isn’t enough…”

Andi gave Martina a little wave. Just a wiggle of the fingers, and our friend responded with an unnoticeable nod. She walked on, swaying her hips, and just before she had reached the end of the stage… she stumbled. She caught herself before she fell… but the maneuver had achieved its goal.
The additional motion of her heavy hangers proved too much for the flimsy construction. The bra just fell apart, completely disintegrating.
Reflexively, Martian tried to keep it together, but it was to no effect. The remains of the brassiere fell to the ground, a gasp ran through the room, and Luiza, who had been basking in the admiration of the audience turned around to witness her triumph disappearing.

There was no laughter or any remarks as she hushed the naked Martina back behind the curtains. Everyone in the room was a professional. Accidents happen, right? Especially when you are trying to achieve the impossible.

“Have you ever dealt with breasts that size?”, a pink-haired older lady asked her neighbor. “Never, in all my years! That’s a case for the surgeons, not for tailors”, the man responded.
“A bra to contain a bust of that size… impossible! Absolutely impossible!”, another commented.
Andrea grinned.



Luiza was fuming when we arrived behind the stage. “Fine! Enjoy your victory. I did my best to make her presentable… but even the best is limited by the material they have to work with! If you think you can do better… enjoy your time with this… cow!”
And with that, she stormed off. Marcel turned around and gave us a smile and a wink.

“He’s a good guy”, Andrea remarked. “Doesn’t deserve his fate… but then, she is good at selling. He will make sure we get our reward… and I will compensate him.”
Martina winced. “All good and well, but could you hurry up? Or else I’ll flood the stage.”

Between the three of us, she was wrapped in “The Thing” in no time. Andrea went back to the stage, and we waited for her announcement.
“You set Luiza up”, I said.
Martina smiled. “She’s a snotty little girl. Thinks everyone is beneath her. Treats her models like pieces of flesh. Marcel is a good guy though. He did his best… but he knew it would not be enough. Even without our… flourishes. Oh, Andrea, hurry!”

“I apologize for the mishap with the last model”, Andrea addressed the room. “My good friend wanted to face this huge challenge, and I’m sure that with more preparation she would have succeeded. There have been voices here who said that the task was impossible. But it isn’t, and I’m going to prove it.
Ladies and Gentlemen… I present the ‘Martine Excellente’!”

I waved Martina forward onto the stage once more. The contrast to her last performance couldn’t have greater.
The Thing - or the Martine Excellente – was built for strength and durability. It fit her natural form much closer, letting the huge tits follow their natural form and curve. It enclosed most of the breast, even sporting supporting bands over the bosom… but inevitable showed an fantastic amount of cleavage.

Martina walked forward again, with vigor and sway… but the Thing did what it was constructed to do. She reached the end of the catwalk, spun around, shook her torso, and finally leaned forward, giving the audience a deep look into the depths of her bosom.
Finishing with a curtsey, she turned around and walked out, regal like any queen.

First, stunned silence. Then, a clap. And another one, and another, until the room rose in standing ovation.

Andrea didn’t gloat or took undue joy in her victory. With a curt bow, she acknowledge the audience and went back to the dressing room.
Four huge tits clashed in an embrace. “Did it! Told you!” – “You worked so hard!” – “Without you, I couldn’t have done!”
I, too, got a few compliments. Deservedly, if I may say so. But then Martina cut short the celebration.
“But I really really need to go and express myself now. I fear I’m leaking all over the inside of your shiny new bra.”

“YOUR bra, you mean”, Andrea smiled. “Come on then… let’s go to your room, get you out of the Thing and see what we can do to relieve your burdens.”



The journey back was uneventful. But the atmosphere in the van was filled with a spirit of elation.
On the backseat, next to me, sat the little trophy for achievements in the field of plus-sized underwear that “The Thing” had gained us.
Martina in the passenger seat was smiling an angelic little smile, and would whistle a small tune once and again.
Andrea was driving with determination. Full concentration on the road. But the broad grin on her face wouldn’t fade… she looked like the proverbial cat who had gotten into the cream.

I myself had a feeling of… anticipation. Four days it had been. It had been fun. Not too much work. Lots of relaxing moments in a very nice setting. But I had spent four days face to face with a whole bunch of big-titted bimbos (and sincere well-endowed ladies) and had gotten less action than a certain elderly gentleman. I was full of… energy. I very much looked forward to sharing all of it with Dora.



Dora flung herself into my arms. “Missed you, missed you, missed you”, she whispered into my ear and covered me with kisses.
But when I went for some more intimate touches, she pushed me away.
“I’m sorry. I can’t. I can’t right now. Wait until I tell you about the exams…”
 
That was a cool chapter but I want more Dora! Much more of her!
 
Part 48: Money for nothing

“Go away!”
Dora was curled up on her bed, face pressed into her favorite stuffed toy.

“Oh, poor girl! That bad?” the visitor asked.

“Worse! A total disaster! I messed up. Botched it. Completely. Every single test! I’m a failure, a total loser!”

“You’re not! You’re a bright girl, an intelligent and capable young woman! And how would you know? The last test was, what, this afternoon?”

Dora looked up to her resolute aunt and nodded.

“See? You can’t know! It’s only nerves. You’ve studied so hard, and now you’re all nerves. You need to calm down. Take your mind off things. You need a diversion!”

Dora’s face rose. “Maybe you’re right. Do you have a plan?”

“Well… my new apartment is finally ready. I’m moving the stuff tomorrow, and I thought you and your nice strong young man could…”

Dora’s face fell. “Moving? That’s your great idea of taking my mind of exams? I thought you meant a club or dinner or something. And by the way… my boyfriend isn’t here. Away on business.”

“He isn’t…? Dang! I had hoped. Melanie isn’t here either. School trip.”

“Yeah, I know. Mika is in the same class. Lourdes, bah! They do that for all the final-years. Boring as hell.”

Gundula grinned. “Oh, I don’t know. To hear your mom tell it, she had tons of fun. Made me almost wish I had stayed. But I was on the airplane to the States the moment I turned 18.”

“Anyway…” she continued. “Mel’s not here to help. Nor is her little blonde friend. Now your boyfriend is away… please, Dora dearest, you have to help me! And I’ll treat you for dinner!”

Dora laughed at her aunts pleading face. “Okay, okay, cut down the theatrics. I’ll do it. But… you know my car, right? It’s not meant to transport furniture.”

“Oh, don’t worry, dear! I’ve hired some people to do the heavy lifting.”

“Then why do you need…?” Dora looked down at the bed, at the discarded plushy. “Oh… you… you… aunt!”



The pedestrian jumped out of the way of the speeding little green car. He turned as the vintage FIAT swerved into a narrow parking space, ready to give the driver a hefty talking-to. But words failed him as a young woman wriggled out of the tiny vehicle, giving him a perfect view of her enormously overstuffed t-shirt.
“Sorry, very sorry” the buxom girl smiled at him. “I didn’t hit you, did I? Everything okay?”

He nodded, lost for words, staring at the outline of a colossal bra shimmering darkly through the white fabric.
“Well… okay then! Sorry again! Have a nice day!”

She skipped away, her gargantuan chest bouncing. He almost ran into a streetlight as he stumbled backwards, trying to keep her in his view as long as possible.



The foyer of the Gründerzeit apartment block smelled of polish and wet paint. Aunt Gundi waited for her at the bottom of the stairs, right next to the old-fashioned elevator.
Dora looked at the small cabin, at the boxes at her aunt’s feet.
“Please tell me you live on the first floor!”
“The fourth, dear.”
Dora groaned.
“Come on, dear. It’s just a few boxes and stuff. I could have chosen the fifth floor for myself… but I thought it was too large for the two of us. Mel won’t stay forever with me… so I thought it was much better to rent it out. Don’t give me that look! You’re young and healthy… it will do you good. You can use the exercise.”

Dora groaned again. “I exercise regularly. You… you don’t think I’m getting fat, am I? You… wait a second… did you say ‘rent it out’? You own the penthouse and an apartment here?”

“I own the whole building, dear. A good investment, I think… and I need to have some way of making money.”

“Wow… I didn’t know you were loaded, Aunt Gundi!”

The elevator had arrived and Gundi shoved the boxes in, then her niece, then herself. It was a tight squeeze, and Gundi laughed, looking at the young girl’s big bra-clad bosom.
“Oh, no, you are loaded. I’m just affluent.”



Dora was already sweaty and out of breath when the van arrived. “Pölloth & Sons, haulers” was proclaimed in bold, old-fashioned lettering on the outside. Three people got out.
The first was a burly, heavyset man in his mid-40s. He seemed almost as wide as he was tall, and most of his bulk seemed to be muscle.
The second might have been ten or fifteen years younger. Just as burly, not quite as wide, but with arms like Hercules and according legs. A shaggy black beard, short cropped hair, stern looks.
The third guy was his total opposite. Thin and wiry, blonde locks, and a wide grin that showed his pearly white teeth. Perhaps a few years older than Dora, she adjusted her opinion when he opened the van’s door, climbed up and casually lifted a whole cupboard. He might be smaller than the other two guys, slighter in build, but just as muscular and strong.

The oldest went up to Aunt Gundi and gave her a firm handshake, which she turned into an embrace. “Oh, Robert, you silly old bear! Don’t be so formal!”
His face split into a grin identical to the younger guy’s. “Gundi. Damn, I’d never thought to see you again.”
He gave her a good look-over. “You’ve only become more beautiful.”
Then he turned to Dora. “You’re daughter? She’s your spitting image, all over.”
“My niece,” Gundula corrected the man.
“She’s Gini’s girl? She does have the family resemblance; that much is certain.”

Dora paused. “You know my mother? You knew her when she was…” She stopped, feeling his gaze on her chest. He stared without any sign of shame.
“Fleetingly. She’d always been more into the academic types. But she had a thing for the volleyball players, right, Gundi?”

Aunt Gundula shushed him, and came over to Dora. “Old stories, long past. Robert, this is Dora, my niece. Dora dear, this is Robert Pölloth, one of MY oldest friends. And these must be… why, I have no idea. These can’t be your boys!”
“You didn’t give me any boys, Gundi. I never got over you, you know that.” He winked. “My nephews. Lutz and Benni.”
The younger of the two jumped off the van and came over for a handshake. “Don’t let our aunt hear that talk, Uncle Bob! Or your daughters! They’ll have your hide”, he laughed.
“That’s what you get when you send them off to high school”, the older man laughed back and smashed his paw on the younger’s shoulder. “They get all moral and edumacated. But someone has to do the accounting, right? Egghead!”
The egghead proved that muscles and education didn’t contradict as he jumped back on the truck and started to hand over huge boxes to his older brother, as if they were only fluffy pillows.

“Can you get all the furniture up to the fourth floor? There’s no cargo elevator, I’m afraid.”
“No problem, ma’am, that’s our job.”
The older brother was the quiet type; these had been his first words. Dora’s and Gundi’s overstuffed shirts still attracted his attention, though he averted his gaze when Gundi noticed. She gave her chest a little shake and he blushed.
Benni, the young egghead, smiled his bright smile at that silent exchange. “Yeah, don’t worry. We’re experts at handling heavy loads.”

...

Bulging muscled showed as the three men were getting ready to move the heavier furniture up the stairs.
“Isn’t he a real sugar cube?”, Gundi whispered.
Dora glanced at the broad back of the older man heaving the fridge up another ledge. “Cube for sure.”
“Yeah, he has gained some weight. Haven’t we all? But he’s really a teddy bear. Caring and tender, and energetic as a bull”, her aunt reminisced.
“And he knew Mom?”
“Well, we were together. For a year or a bit more. Of course he has met my sister. A few times.”
“And he… you know?”
Gundi paused. “Well… that’s something you should ask your mom, shouldn’t you? Or maybe… you shouldn’t.”
She winked and went for the next box.

Dora just stood there. She had known about her mom’s reduction for some time now, but she had never realized it. Realized that her own mother had once been a teenager. Like herself. Just… bigger.
But… her and him? She looked up the stairs again. Sure, he wasn’t bad looking for an old guy. Very masculine. Strong.
She imagined his paw-like hands mauling her boring chaste catholic mom. Ugh, no, what an idea! She changed the image to a pair of strong hands on her own huge breasts. That felt so much better. A nice, warm, very familiar feeling. A small moan escaped her lips. She looked up the stairs again where the men were still hard at work handling the bulky device. No, what was she thinking?



It had taken the five of them the whole morning, but at last the kitchen appliances were in place and connected, and the bedroom furniture was set up.

The huge old-school four-poster-bed had been carried up in a dozen takes, and still it had been a close call to get the boards, posts and furnishings up the staircase. Setting the beast up had taken the three men an eternity, and now they were hot and sweaty.
Robert had been the first to drop his shirt. He really was a bear… Dora couldn’t look away from the pelt on his chest. His nephews were less hairy, but just as muscular.

“Dammit, Gundi, I thought you said you weren’t married? What do you even need such a huge bed for?” Robert asked.

“Married? Why would I need to be married? Has married life turned you square?”
Gundi was hanging up the drapes and curtains.
“You haven’t been that unimaginative when you were younger! Gosh, that is hot work.”
Standing upright on the bed, she pulled her shirt over her head, and continued, her chest now only covered in her frayed bra.
“And as you can see, I need the space, even when I’m alone.”

“That’s for sure! Mother Mary, you sure have grown!”
“So have you. That’s quite the paunch. And you used to be all muscle.”
“Hey… I still am. Well… most of it. More than half, at least. And the rest is just as fit as ever. Don’t you believe me?”

Gundi laughed. “Sure, old man! Whatever you say.” She winked at others. “So… lunch time! There’s an Indian restaurant right around the corner. Shall we get some take out, boys?”

It took less than 15 minutes for the food to arrive. Dora and Benni went to meet the delivery.
“I can’t show myself at the door like that, can I?” Gundi has joked, wobbling her massive mams in the tight bra, while she was giving the bed curtains the finishing touches. “They’d arrest me for sexual assault.”

The delivery boy got big eyes from the sight of Dora’s covered assets, and cracked a wide grin at Lutz’ uncovered chest. He left with a wink and a nod. “Enjoy your… meal!”

Laden with boxes of appetizing food, they got back to the bedroom.
Gundi and Robert had settled in the middle of the large bed and were chatting amiable. Gundi patted the plaited cover.
“Come, sit with us. See, there’s space enough for all of us. Sheesh, I’m starving! Get that food over, boy!”
Benni took the boxes over and dropped down on Gundi’s other side.

Dora declined and sat down on the couch. Lutz had been in the kitchen, to fetch the well-cooled beer from the new fridge.
“Oh, yes, that’s perfect! Come join us!” said Gundi.
Lutz looked at the threesome already cuddled in the middle and shook his head. Handing out bottles and taking his share of the Indian food, he took his place next to Dora and started to eat.

Aunt Gundi was in a highly flirtatious mood, Dora thought. And it wasn’t only with her old flame… she smiled and laughed with the younger man, feeding him tidbits from her box.
Well, they had all worked hard, and a lighter mood was nothing to be worried about. Though “lighter” was perhaps the wrong word. “Heavier” would be a better term. Or “musky”.
Was it her, or did it get really hot in here?

“Hot! Hot!!!” Aunt Gundi exclaimed. “Wow… that’s spicy! And here I thought I was used to this type of spice! Pooh, I’m positively melting!”
And because that was as good an excuse as any, she removed her bra.

“Now that’s some spicy meatballs.” Robert commented and his paw-like hands went straight for the bountiful boob closest to him. “Have you ever seen tits like these?”
“Never in my life!” answered Benni and grabbed as much as he could of the udder on his side.

“Dora, dearest, aren’t you feeling well? Your face is so red.”, Aunt Gundi smiled as the men mauled her chest.
“It’s a bit hot. The food. It’s very spicy.”, Dora managed to say. It really was hot. She could feel it. All over her body.

“You should really remove your top, dearest. Cool off. And it’s not polite to be the only one with a shirt in a room full of topless people, is it?”

Dora sighed. It had been inevitable, hadn’t it? She looked at her aunt’s gargantuan bosom; these massive tits covering most of her lap, being manhandled around by two guys.
What might her boyfriend be up to right now? Away all week, surrounded by beautiful big breasted women? Did she not deserve some sort of reward for all the stress and hard work she had had to manage while he was having his fun?

Without further reflection, she pulled her shirt over her head and opened her bra. The cool air felt wonderful on her skin.
Eeek… and the big hand grabbing her naked breast felt… not unpleasant.
Lutz had taken the opportunity as soon as she had bared her assets, and his calloused hands were now wandering all over her chest. Silently, he grinned at her.

“My brother isn’t a man of many words, but he has other talents.” Benni had gotten up and walked over to the couch. “But words are overrated anyway. There’s other ways to use your mouth.”

He dropped his trousers, and his erect dick sprang up in front of Dora’s face. It was a nice dick. Nicely shaped, not too big. Not big at all, she thought with a pang of regret. But as a polite girl, she did what was expected.

“Your niece is quite the talented little cocksucker, isn’t she?” Robert asked. Gundi didn’t respond, couldn’t respond, because she was performing the same service to her old lover.

“Not that little where it counts.” Benni reached down to add his hands to his brother’s, mashing, mauling, kneading Dora’s heavy hooters. “Babe, you’ve got a pair of tits to die for and such an adorable wet mouth!”
He pumped just a few seconds longer before he came. Dora growled in frustration at that quick release, but she swallowed the whole load.
“Don’t worry, babe! There’s more where that came from” Benni panted. “And I think I have seen just the stuff I need.”

“What the heck?” Dora exclaimed, as the younger man went to leave the bedroom. “Was that all?”
“Be right back, sweetie. The big ape will keep you company for the time.”

Lutz mumbled: “Idiot.” Without another word, he lifted the girl at the hips, turned her around and pulled down her skirt.
“Hey, careful!” Dora complained, but the big man just opened his pants and thrust forward. “Oof”, she went, as her tits were being pushed into the back of the couch. “You could at least have ask… ugh… oh, yes… oh, my… yeah, do it!”

Old Man Robert on the bed chuckled. “Young folks these days. Can’t make their mind up, have no stamina and no manners. Now, Madam, may I please fuck your brains out?”
Gundula looked up from her task. She had spread her enormous honkers over Robert’s lap, alternating between tit-fucking and blowing his dick.
“Why, Sir, I thought you would never ask! You are such an old-school gentleman”, she giggled.
“Always a pleasure! Now, get on your knees. I want to see your niece get ploughed while I bang you.”

He looked over to the couple on the couch and admired the way Dora’s tits got smashed into the backrest under his nephew’s hard thrusts.
“Look at these udders! She really is her mother’s daughter. So, how’s Ginny doing today? Her tits reached the floor yet?”

Dora interrupted before her aunt could respond: “Dammit, could you not talk about my mother in that way? It’s… embarrassing.”

Gundula giggled again. “Oh, dearest! You have no idea. The stories I could tell you. Why, just this one time, we…”

She was cut short by Benni returning to the bedroom. He waved around a bottle or tube. “Hah, I knew I had seen this stuff here. And you already got into position. Great! Now spread wide!”

Dora tried to look around, to see what was going on. “Wait, you can’t just…!” She felt a trickle of cool liquid running down her thighs. “What are you…?”

“Nice and slippery”, Benni said, and Dora braced. But instead she heard Lutz pant: “Little pervert”, and she felt a new rhythm in his thrusts. He didn’t relent in his assault on Dora’s privates, while he was now in return being pounded by his younger brother.

“Young folks these days… always so eager to try out new things” commented Gundula. “How long do you think he can keep this up?”

Not long, as it turned out. The double stimulation proved too much for him, and with an incomprehensible grunt, he came, and then just wordlessly rolled to the side, leaving Benni and Dora behind.

Dora wasn’t impressed. “Hey, come back! You can’t just dump your load and scarper!”
She looked up to the younger brother and shuddered. “And you… why… how… ah, fuck off!”
Frustrated and unsatisfied, she slumped back on the couch.

“Poor girl.” Robert said, “I might have something to console you, if your aunt doesn’t mind.”
Gundi nodded, “He can, I can attest to that!”
She rolled over, leaving the older man and his hard pulsating cock to the sullen girl’s view.

Dora hesitated for a moment. What was she even doing here? She could just go home and… she paused. No potent boyfriend to please her. No girlfriend to fool around with. Just a stupid piece of rubber.
She took another glance at the older guy’s dick. It was a much more inviting sight than the image of her dildo at home. She sighed, got up and walked over to the bed.

“That’s a good girl!” Robert got on his back. “Get on top of me. Get that huge funbags of yours right into my face. Come, hop on!”
She settled on his groin and guided his tool to the correct place. Slowly she started to ride him, as he reached up for her pendulous breasts. His dick felt good inside her. Almost as good as her boyfriend’s would have… oh, why wasn’t he here now? Still… no regrets.
She bucked her hips harder and enjoyed the pleasure rising up in her body. His massive hands kneading her soft tits made her tingly all over.

Dora could feel her aunt somewhere behind her, and soon she felt the soft feminine hands caressing her nether parts. They were getting awfully close to a place she didn’t really want to think about, but she couldn’t deny it felt… nice.
Something wet was probing her anus. She tried to look around, and saw Gundi’s head down at her butt.
“What you are doing?” she asked.
Gundi looked up. “Don’t you like it? Are you uncomfortable? Should I stop?”
“No, it’s… ahhh, what ARE you doing?”
A cool liquid was poured over her backside, crafty fingers spread it all over her butt cheeks and even found their ways into her tender asshole.
“Just relax, dearest. You’ll like it.”

Robert’s cock slipped out of her pussy, and guided by Gundi’s hands, found its way into her ass. He grinned at her as he fucked her tight backside.
“Isn’t that nice?” he asked with his cheeky grin splitting his face.
“Your whole family is a bunch of perverts, that’s what it is!”

His face fell. “You want me to stop?”
Dora winced. “Yes. No. Just give me time to adjust.”
“Just relax and enjoy it”, he repeated Gundi’s advice.
He reduced his thrusts until he felt the girl follow his lead, then turned up the speed again.

“Oh, fuck, yes! That’s awesome!” Dora exclaimed in rising ecstasy. She kept riding the man as energetically as before. Totally engulfed in her emotions, she didn’t even remark when he switched holes again, and went on to pound her front just as hard as he had her back.

She did remark when someone else turned up at her backdoor though.
“You can’t be serious!” she gasped when another cock was shoved hard into her anus.
“Nice tight ass” Benni whispered in her ear.
“Perverts. A bunch of filthy, depraved perverts, that’s what you are, all of you, oh, don’t stop, you stupid jerks…”
Her stream of insults got cut short when Lutz joined the show to plug her mouth with his huge boner.

“Ah, youth!” Gundi sighed, watching her young niece get rammed in all of her holes at once.



“And what about your exams?” was the first thing that came out of my mouth as I tried to compile the story Dora had just told me.

“Oh… yes… the exams. Fine. Just fine. Didn’t get the 100 percent though, pity.”

“And you got yourself fucked in the ass by two guys as a reward.” I added deadpan.

“Three guys. You see… I came so hard I almost passed out, and they went down on Gundi after that, but then I wanted another go and this time Lutz took my ass and…”

She looked up at my silent face. “Are you mad at me? I really shouldn’t have… but I just got caught in the action and… you are mad at me, aren’t you? But it’s all Gundi’s fault!”

I couldn’t help it. I laughed out loud. “Sure. Nothing to blame my poor innocent girl for, who gets into orgies when her hard-working man is away on business.”

“With a nymphomaniac boss and the woman with the biggest udders in the country”, she countered.

“Who were so busy with each other that I couldn’t do anything” I retorted.

“But you would have, if you could have. Don’t deny it!” she cleverly turned the situation around, “And I admit that it would have been even more fun if you had been with us. You wouldn’t mind fucking my aunt, would you?”

I laughed again and took her in a tight embrace. “You little minx!

“But now you understand why I can’t sleep with you now, as much as I want to! I could barely walk that night, and I’m still sore”, she lamented.

“Oh, Dora, what am I to do with you?”

My little minx looked up to me with her trademark cheeky smile.
“Hm… titfuck?”
 
Part 49: The London Blitz


Was that the right way? Was that what she really wanted?

A persistent voice brought Gini back to the real world.

“Please step over here, Miss!”

The customs officer was a woman. Gini wasn’t sure if that was a good thing. Women stared as much as men did, but with many of them, she could feel the addition of envy.

“Do you have anything to declare?”

“Nothing. Just clothes.”

The woman’s gaze dropped, and Gini could almost hear her thoughts. What size were these clothes? What size was that shirt? How could she…

“Are you here for business or pleasure?”

“Business… mainly.”

“Very well then, Miss, I hope you’ll have a pleasant stay in the United Kingdom.”


That was it. The big step. Was it the right step? Was she going in the right direction?

That question wasn’t just philosophical. How to get from Heathrow to London City? Cab or Underground?

She had never been on a subway. And it was a historic attraction. And, most important… it would be cheaper. She would have to deal with the people though. Their stares.

When had she started to become bothered by the stares? She had never cared before. Well… she had learned not to care. And she wouldn’t have to care for much longer. The Underground it was!


The trip was less interesting than she had hoped. Of course, it was underground! She had stared for the short while the train had been in the open… and then it was just a tube hurling through a dark void again.

She should have taken the cab. The seats were narrow, the armrests uncomfortable. Clearly not meant for a girl of her build. And there were the people.

To hell with them, she thought. Let them stare. This was something they would never see again. Let them stare while there still was something to stare at.

Her mood rose as she reached her destination. London. Proper London. She had done it. She was going to do it. Outside of her home country for the first time, and in London!

Well… that wasn’t completely true. There had been that school trip to France. But that had felt different. She had been in the same old company, of the nuns, the teachers, her classmates. It hadn’t felt foreign. She hadn’t had much contact with the locals.

No… that wasn’t completely true either. She had had contact with the locals. They just hadn’t talked a lot.


There had been scenes later. First with the headmistress, then with her parents. Her mother.

There always had been scenes with her mother, and it had only gotten worse after she had finished school.

It had been such a hopeful time. The fall of the wall, then the re-unification of Germany. Everyone had been looking forward to a bright future, everyone was having plans.

But for her, everything had failed. She hadn’t been able to hold to any job for long. Initially, she had wanted to go into management… but no one had taken her serious. Then, she had made an attempt as a secretary, and quickly found out what she really had been supposed to do. Only to get laid off after getting laid.

She had tried several other things since then. Her last job had been as a waitress, until the owner’s wife had surprised her husband getting a bit too involved in showing her the ropes. Can’t fire the owner, can you?

Someone had suggested another job in a bar. That sort of bar, you know, nudge nudge, wink wink.

She had seriously considered it, but then Mom had found out, and she had called Gini the w-word, and Gini had called her mother the other w-word. Witch. Not the one that rhymed with “door”.

Her sister had tried to defend her, as always. To no avail, and then she had only made it worse, by running away to America. To become a w-word, as Mom had put it, and her name was not to be mentioned ever again.

That’s when Gini had made a decision. The decision. She wasn’t like her sister. Vivacious, beautiful, outgoing Gugu. She couldn’t do what her sister had done. Might use it, as she had done so many times when her randy little sister had gotten her into another dare. But she could not live like that.

She would change. Change her life. And that meant: change her body.


Lost in her thoughts, she had almost walked past her destination. The hotel was old and small, but well maintained. Besides being affordable, it had the advantage of being close to the clinic. In fact, the clinic had recommended it. They used it regularly for their clients. Which meant she wouldn’t raise too many eyebrows here.

It had taken her months of diligent research to find the right place. It had taken a lot of effort to convince her healthcare provider that only an international specialist could take on a case like her. Effort, and quite a bit of intimate persuasion. She hated herself for that. But no more of that. Almost. Just… just this once… and then… no more of that, ever again.


Though perhaps not just yet, she reconsidered as she entered the little reception area. The guy behind the desk was very cute, and going by the state of his eyebrows, he had never seen anything like her before.

Was there any harm in having a bit of extra fun before the inevitable? Putting her nerves down and her smile up, she approached the reception and placed down her ID. Right in front of her bust, which she deliberately shoved up onto the counter.

“Hi. The clinic has made a reservation for me. Three nights.”

Her smile was wasted on the poor guy. His eyes never left her chest, as he checked her card, fumbled with his reservation notes and tried to grab her key without looking.

“Yeah, here you are. Three nights, that’s right. You’re with the plastic surgeons, you said? Ehm… are you here for a… a breast reduction?” Beads of sweat form on the poor guy’s forehead.

“An augmentation.” She heard him gasp in disbelief. “No, of course it’s a reduction.”

“What a shame”, he mumbled.

“You think so?”

“Why… I… no, it’s totally your… I mean… what you do… and they… I mean… these… they… I mean… wow!”, he stuttered.

“Why, thank you!” Her coy look was just as wasted as her smile, but she didn’t care.

“Would you help me with the luggage? I do have some problems with stairs.”


She had slept well. Well and, more’s the pity, undisturbed. The young clerk had been more than willing to carry her suitcase, and the other heavy things she was lugging around.

But he didn’t get much further than some hasty fondling of her massive assets, before some frantic bell ringing had called him back to the front desk.

When she handed in her keys in the morning, the cute youngster had been replaced with an overweight hairy old man, who barely looked up from his papers.

Well, there might be another time. Two more nights.

The clinic was just a short walk away, and here at least she didn’t raise any attention. The receptionist had just handed her some paperwork before relaying her to a waiting area. The surgeon checked the documentation she had brought from her doctors back home, took her pulse, checked her blood pressure, and the more in-depth examination of her breasts was… clinical.

No lumps, no irritations, no aberrations, no ulcers… just big. Very big. Extremely big. Nothing she hadn’t known before.

So, yes, the blood results would be done by next day, and if they didn’t show anything bad, surgery could happen the day after. If that was what she really wanted? Yes? Fine, sign here, see you tomorrow.

Her other appointment was only for the next day, so she spend the rest of the afternoon sightseeing. At least there wasn’t anything of the infamous English rain… she had no umbrella, had no use for an umbrella. They never managed to keep all of her dry. But she knew that she looked absurd under her rain coat, like a mountain covered in wax cloth.

Mom just didn’t understand. Gini looked absurd in any sort of normal clothing! So she dressed revealingly. She couldn’t hide her figure anyway… so why not show it off? That got at least some positive reactions.

She pondered shopping for some clothes. She would need a whole new wardrobe, afterwards. For tops at least. She had brought one of her mom’s sweaters, just to have something to wear without it flopping around at her knees. There were some very cute shirts and fancy tops on display… but she didn’t know her size. Not only not in the English system… she hadn’t worn off the peg clothes for years. The sweater would have to do.

She bought some fish and chips from a street vendor and found a quiet place in a nearby park. The stall owner had been nice enough, especially after a long look at her low cut neckline. But having to fish crumbs from your cleavage was embarrassing in public. Not that amusing in private as well… this was something she looked forward to leaving behind.


Back in the hotel, the desk was now occupied by a bubblegum-chewing girl with green hair and a ring in the nose. She mumbled something that Gini couldn’t understand when she handed her the keys. It might have been “great” or it might have been “gross”.

Either way, she wasn’t an alternative to the cute clerk from last night. Maybe that was a good thing. It might strengthen her resolve to go through with her next day appointment.


Her visit to the doctor’s office was what made her decision. All the tests were fine, surgery should be minimal risk… all lights green. She had given her final consent; tomorrow would be the last day of her massiveness.

That left her with just one thing to do. The thing that was meant to pay for the whole trip. This time, she took a cab, and was soon dropped off in front of a generic looking three story red-brick office building. A brass plate above the doorbell proclaimed: “Marvelous Arts Media Studios, 2nd floor”. The door opened with a buzz immediately after she pressed the button.

She managed the narrow stairs with only minor problems. Another thing she was looking forward to… being able to see where her feet were going. She paused for a second, steadied herself and knocked.

“Damn time! Get your bloody ass in here already, before I kick it out on the street!”

“I beg your pardon?”, she managed to respond to that welcome barrage.

“Oh, damn. You’re not Harry. Sorry, thought you were Harry. He’s late again… bloody Harry.”

A frail bespectacled man from the other end of the office tried to interrupt: “Harry came in an hour ago. He’s in the lab.”

The other guy, a huge heavyset guy with the most impressive sideburns and a huge red nose, just wouldn’t be stopped.

“He is? How am I to bloody know? No one ever bloody tells me bloody anything! And who the bloody hell are you?”

“Excuse me… you are the photographers, aren’t you? I’m Gini, I mean, Regina. From Germany. We talked on the phone. We made an appointment for today.”

Sideburns seemed to notice her for the first time. “Oh… the German girl! You’re really here. I thought this would be a prank. But here you are!”

He took a closer look. A very thorough examination.

“This isn’t a prank, is it? There was this bloody girl in the papers just last year, with this enormous chest, but everyone knew it was just a pair of bloody balloons. So… are you a prank?”

“I’m sorry? My boobs? No, they’re very real. I was told you looked for women with large breasts to pose for photos… I’m really sorry if I wasted your time.”

“And mine…” she added silently in her mind. That was a hitch… there wasn’t time to find another photographer.

But her worries proved to be unfounded. The spindly guy had gotten up and inserted himself between her and Sideburns.

“Don’t mind the big buffoon, Miss. He’s just mad we missed out on that scoop last year. We’re always looking for pretty women like you, and he was quite excited with the images you send us.

Just this morning, he told me how much he looked forward to meeting you. Isn’t that true?”


The huffing red-faced mountain nodded silently, and the lanky guy turned back to Gini.

“See? We’re glad to have you, and doubly so if what your shirt is hiding there is the real deal.

I’m Tom, this is Dick, and Harry’s around somewhere. And you’ll get to meet Misses D. Welcome to the home of the MAMS!”

He paused, waiting for a reaction. Gini wasn’t sure what kind. “Err… yes, thank you!”

“Come on… mams? Marvelous Arts Media Studios… and it’s a term for, you know… boobs. It’s a play on words! No?”

Gini managed a polite laugh.

“Anyway… I think it’s time we take a look at yours. Mams. No, not here. Let me show you around”

Tom took her arm and led her to the back.


They met the third guy somewhere on the way, Harry, who turned out to be a thin elderly guy with a head full of beautiful blonde locks. He did a double-take at her sight, and started to cackle: “All the saints… I hope I have a wide-angle lens big enough for these marvels!”

“Oh, shut your blood trap and go get your stuff! We’ve work to do!” Sideburns/Dick started to move the large spotlights into position with the large comfortable couch at one end of the atelier.

Gini’s eyes were drawn to the huge bed on the other side, covered in white linen and red silk. How far would the want to take that? How far was she willing to go?

A female voice broke her from these thoughts.

“Oi, aren’t you a big girl, luv!”

The little old lady could have come directly from a Victorian crime novel, but at closer examination, she might as well be 40 as 70. Ageless. With a genuine smile on her face, she stepped up.

“A really big one, you are! Well… let’s get you dolled up, shall we? I’m Dorothy, by the way. Do you want a cuppa?”


The cup of tea had relaxed her a lot. It had been a bit weird, unfamiliar. Very British. But relaxing.

Then Dorothy had gone to do her make-up, a lot more pronounced than Gini usually did. The clothes had given her a bit of a pause. Stockings, garters, silk panties… none of that was any problem for Gini’s slim figure. But even in the fund of MAMS, there was no bra large enough to hold her super-sized jugs. Dorothy finally solved this problem with covering her in a robe made of a see-through black gauze fabric.

“Doesn’t really matter; you won’t keep it on for long. But coverage is important. Boys like to unwrap their presents.”


The young lady that looked back at Gini from the mirror was a stranger. Elegant, confident, sexy. Someone to admire, someone to aspire to be. But that wasn’t her, Gini decided. It was a mask, and that suited her well. She could hide behind it, use it as a prop to show her old self – her old body – just this one time. To “preserve it for posterity”, as her sister had called it when she had given her this contact. To raise the money to pay for its murder.

Oh, how she wished Gugu was here with her right now!


Dorothy guided her back to the scene, to the waiting men. “Don’t worry, luv, they don’t bite”, she said with an encouraging smile.

Their looks were hungry enough. After a short moment of stunned surprise, they broke into a flurry of action. Lights were shifted, props arranged, orders shouted.

Tom guided her through the first simple poses, while Harry frantically looked for the perfect angle to capture her amazing assets. Gini opened and closed the flimsy robe, as commanded, and soon shed the garment all together. It turned into just another prop, to be spread over her legs, thighs, hips and the gargantuan bosom.

Dorothy just sat at the sidelines, the sound of her knitting needles mixing with the clicks of the camera and the director’s commands. She was a reassuring presence, and her affirming smile gave Gini confidence.

She was out of breath when the team called for a break. Modeling was hard work, especially with all the heavy lifting she had to do.

Over the shared lunch – Chinese takeout – they discussed continuing the session on the next day, even getting some filming done, but Gini had to inform them that today would be their last and only chance.

This resulted in another bout of hectic activity, and by the end of the day, she was sorely spend. She almost dozed off when Dorothy helped her remove the make-up and dress her in her street clothes, and she barely noticed the lavish praise the MAMS crew heaped on her when they accompanied her to the door.


The desk at the hotel was manned with the cute youngster again, but she was just too damned tired to care. “Too bad for him”, she thought, imagining him looking at some tabloid, seeing the huge bust featured there, recognizing his late-night customer, and regretting the lost chance. Just too bad.

But it didn’t matter anymore. Tomorrow would be the start of the rest of her life. Yes, that was the right way. Yes, that was what she really wanted. Dorothy’s assuring smile was the last thing she thought of before she sank into a deep dreamless sleep.





“Is she who I got my name from?”, Dora asked.

“In a way”, Regina responded. “It’s an old traditional name in our family, but if not for Dorothy, I might never have considered it.”

Her daughter stared at the faded black and white newsprint, at the smiling young woman with the impossibly large bust.

“Do you regret it?”

“The photos? A bit. Turned out they were a bit of a waste… this rag was the only paper to publish even one. All the other yellow-press papers thought this was too fantastic for even their audience. Don’t know if MAMS ever recovered even what they payed me.

But the reduction? No, not at all. I met your dad almost the minute I landed back in Germany… and the rest is history, as they say.”

“So… why this then?” Dora gestured at the other set of pictures on the kitchen table. A brochure of a plastic surgeon in Lithuania, featuring some massively enhanced women.

“Ehm… well… with you… ehm… growing up, and Gugu being back, and Melons… I mean: Melanie…”

“You weren’t jealous, were you?”, Dora interrupted.

“Jealous? No. No, not jealous. Just… a bit nostalgic”, her mother said with a small sigh.

“But these?” Dora pointed that the measurements given for the plastic surgeon’s clients, with the numbers going into the thousands of cubic centimeters. “That’s… that’s not you!”

“I know. I know, dearest! It was just an idea… and it’s not as if I hadn’t been that big before. It’s not easy to be true to who you are.” She looked at her massively endowed daughter.

“She visited me in the hospital. After the procedure. Dorothy. Smiled her little smile, called me ‘luv’ a hundred times and told me just that. ‘Be who you are.’ She was a wise woman.”

“I’d very much like to meet her. My sort-of godmother. You wouldn’t have kept her contact…”

“Well… it’s been twenty years. But I could try…”

“… and the rest of the MAMS crew?”


Regina stopped. “Dorothea… you can’t think… No. No! You won’t…”


Dora smiled.
 
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