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 BIG FEATURE AT ST CAT'S

   by Some Sort of Dog





   WARNING: This warning is slightly different every time, but it always
says more or less the same thing.  This story features schoolgirls with
large breasts.  If you don't want to read about such things, you know what
to do.  If you are a minor, wherever you live, read no further.  It is
probably against the law for you to read this material.

   Although our young heroines are no more pure and virginal than any other
human beings in their position, they are not depicted here as having sexual
relations with adults.  Such a prospect, indeed, would fill them with
horror and disgust.  The story is a fantasy.  Some fantastic things may
well happen, but NOBODY gets raped, killed, or explodes.  You want that,
there's plenty of such crudity available elsewhere.  Go find it.



   This story would not have been possible without the valued assistance,
advice and collaboration of Ms Corinne Meadowlark, a very special lady.









   BIG FEATURE AT ST CAT'S

   by Some Sort of Dog









   Part XXII









   Chapter 64:- Most Extraordinary



   "I have called this extraordinary meeting," said Moggie, "because some
extraordinary things have been happening.  I like to keep my finger on
things."

   I jerked my hand away guiltily from Smegs's groin, and Smegs fell off
her chair.  The poor girl had become literally insatiable since her
misadventure with FatLite and hand cream.  Moggie had loaned her a vibrator
and a taxi brought her a large box of replacement cells every day, but the
loud buzzing was too disturbing during a meeting, so Moggie had given me
permission to keep Smegs occupied as well as I could.

   "What's happened to her?" Moggie stood up to see over the desk. 
"Where's she gone?"

   "She fell on the floor," I said.  "Couldn't we get a girl to service her
for a while?  I'm getting cramp in my wrist."

   "You've only been touching her up for ten minutes, Chauntaille.  You
ought to be able to keep going a bit longer than that."

   "I'm getting RSI, Miss Thunderbolt," I said, huffily.  "Get someone else
to do it."

   Corinne was already shaking her head vigorously, and Miss Rhys ap
Llewelyn Owen was staring out of the window.

   With ill grace, Miss Thunderbolt keyed the intercom on her desk. 
"Labia, send for a Second Form girl, please, in my office immediately. 
Dress optional.  Make sure she's clean, it's warm in here."

   "Yes, Miss Thunderbolt," came Miss Labia's voice, tinny in the
loudspeaker.  "Is it for Miss Mountains's pussy?"

   "Yes, you know it is, you were listening."

   "I'll make it two girls then, they can take it in turns."

   "We'll carry on without Megan for a while," said Moggie.  "Corinne, I
need to give you more responsibility.  The sudden expansion of half of the
Second Form has made me aware of the problem.  It will be your task to
write to the parents of girls who have suddenly developed giant breasts. 
You will be responsible for communications and counselling.  Some of the
parents may find it hard to adjust to their daughters suddenly having
breasts the size of basketballs.  God knows why!"

   "Yes, Miss Thunderbolt."

   "I have given my word to those girls who kindly participated in the
recent FatLite and SuperLite experiment and who failed to develop to the
optimum extent, that they would be permitted to expand further.  I have
already authorised the purchase of the necessary chemicals.  Chauntaille,
that will be your task, in conjunction with the First Form Sexual Chemistry
Group."

   "Yes, Miss Thunderbolt."

   "Now." She raised her voice to be heard above an extra loud howl of
outraged ecstasy from Smegs.  "God, she's fucking loud, that woman.  What
about young Anastasia?"

   "What about her?" I asked, defensively.  Did Moggie know that Anastasia
had moved into my old bedroom.

   "I thought we'd better make her Head Girl."

   "Head Girl?  But she's only eleven!"

   "There's nothing in the St Catherine's High School for Girls Rules that
says a Head Girl has to be in the Upper Sixth Form, nor even a Senior girl.
I checked the rules, so don't bother looking it up.  She's got a lot in her
favour." Moggie held up her fingers and ticked them off one by one.  "She's
good at her work.  She's not too popular with her classmates, so she won't
have any favourites.  She's getting absolutely fucking gigantic tits.  And
last but not least, she seems to have moved into the staff domestic
quarters."

   I went red and hung my head in embarrassment.

   "You didn't think I wouldn't notice, Chauntaille?  Really, my dear!  She
seems to have settled in quite well, although that room is rather small for
a girl in such an important position.  I may have to find her somewhere
more spacious..."

   She broke off as the door opened and Miss Labia ushered in two small
girls.  Tearing off their blouses and skirts, they fell upon Smegs's
writhing body without a word, and began easing her torment with eager
tongues and fingers.  They looked frighteningly efficient.

   "As I was saying, I may consider allowing Megan to move in next to you
two, and moving young Anastasia into Megan's old room.  It's just a
thought. One of many options open to me, and under current consideration."

   I hoped she would reconsider.  Smegs would be unbearable if she had to
give up her bedroom to make way for an eleven year old, even if she *was*
the next Head Girl.

   "One other point, Chauntaille.  You may come under some pressure from
Suzanne and Pansy to enlarge them.  I have received a letter," she fished a
single sheet of paper from her desk drawer, "from a Ms Woods, Suzanne's
mother.  She says that under no circumstances am I to allow her daughter to
enlarge her breasts artificially."

   "You mean Suzanne has asked her mother to let her get bigger?"

   "So it seems.  Apparently, the young lady and her cousin are concerned
that Anastasia has grown larger than them.  They complained to Suzanne's
mother and threatened to use chemical enhancement to 'make that Anastasia
look like a little boy next to them'.  Those are the exact words Suzanne
used.  One shudders to think how big she means by that."

   One did.  The scary thought was that the kids of the First Form Sexual
Chemistry Group had the ability to do it.  Even using the old crude boob
juice, they could have done it.  Suzanne and Pansy still had a little
selective amnesia about the boob juice, but they certainly knew the
potential of other chemicals.  Shrink, for example, was spectacularly
unsuccessful at making breasts smaller.  A good dose of that, and two days
later, they would be twice as big as before.  And they could hardly have
failed to see the effects of FatLite.  It wouldn't take them long to work
out how to use FatLite in combination with other substances to make the
biggest breasts of all time.

   "I'll speak to them," I said, without much hope.  The only real hope I
had was that the young cousins would continue to develop naturally.  With
luck and good sense, they would realise that it was only a matter of time
before they were as big as Anastasia again, without taking any risks with
those nasty dangerous chemicals.

   "The other matter is to do with Megan," said Moggie, clearing her
throat. "Megan," she enunciated, rather like a carer in an old persons'
home.  "May I have a WORD with you, please?"

   A grunt came from Smegs, somewhere underneath her two Second Form
masturbatory assistants.

   "Two things, Megan.  Smeggy Dolls.  Do you still need the Junior
Statistics Group to provide measurements of selected models for the first
series of dolls?"

   "Uh-huh!"

   "And the commercial exploitation of FatLite and Superlite?  Any
progress?"

   Smegs groaned and struggled into a hands and knees position.  Her two
young friends repositioned themselves.  "What about SuperLabia and
SuperClit," she muttered thickly.

   "We appreciate your work in this field, Megan, we really do.  But I
don't think it is quite ready for the public just yet.  A preparation which
caused such Uncontrollable Horniness would perhaps be dangerous in the
wrong hands.  We may need to do more work on it.  Use all the girls you
need."

   "Thanks," grunted Smegs.  "It makes them grow, it's just the
Uncontrollable Horniness that we need to work on." She yelped again as one
of her girls detached herself briefly and came up for air.  The girl dived
in again hastily and Smegs became relatively quiet.  In her present
position, I couldn't quite see how the growth aspect had been coming along.
I got down on the floor for a closer look.  Oh, yes!  It was working all
right.  Smegs now presented quite an interesting appearance down there.  If
you liked that sort of thing.

   "When you've quite finished, Chauntaille?"

   "Sorry, Miss Thunderbolt!"

   "I think we can close this meeting.  You all know what to do?" She
opened a window.  "I think we'd better let these three get on with it in
peace," she said, and we all left the room together.



   **********

   "She said WHAT?" Smegs stormed across the room and slammed her fist
against the door.  She turned and faced us, her eyes blazing.  "She wants
to move me out of my room into that little hell-hole next door?"

   "That's *my* room, Smegs!  It's not as bad as all that."

   "If it's not that bad, why don't you go and sleep in it?  And she wants
to let that big-titted little tart ..."

   "Huge-titted," I insisted.

   "Gigantic-titted," corrected Corinne.

   "And she's not a tart ..."

   "...  that vast-breasted vixen," Smegs amended, "that balloon-boobed
bimbo, that ..."

   "Monster-mammed minx," suggested Corinne.

   Smegs stopped and looked at her as if she suspected she was being
mocked. Corinne's face was blank.

   "...That GIRL!  To let her move into my room.  MY room!  And to make her
Head Girl!" Smegs stood rigid, and tears sprang into her eyes.  She
suddenly shook her hand and cradled it gently in the other one.  "Bastard
door!" She inspected her bruised knuckles.  "Why did she tell you and not
me?"

   "You were there.  It was in a meeting.  Just because you were on the
floor, playing with yourself, you can't expect us to repeat everything
extra loud just for you."

   "My pussy was on fire," Smegs reminded us.  "Same as that wooden spoon."

   "How is it now, Megan?" Corinne put the question in a soothing voice.

   Smegs's hand strayed automatically to the hem of her skirt, and hiked it
up.  Corinne and I averted our gaze as Smegs began touching herself
intimately.  "I'm so hot," she moaned.

   She wasn't wearing any panties, I noticed, chancing a swift glance. 
Just checking.  This was serious.  Smegs was fastidious about wearing
panties.  She believed in setting a good example to the girls.

   "Warmer today, don't you think?" I asked Corinne.

   "They're talking about rain later," she said mournfully.

   I sniffed the air.  "Hmmm.  I suppose they know best.  Still, they've
been wrong before ..."

   "She has the most dangly pussy lips I ever saw in my life," Corinne
changed the subject abruptly.

   "Must be a couple of inches."

   "At least."

   "Hard to tell when she's pulling them about like that."

   "Pity, yes!"

   We watched Smegs in comparative silence for several minutes.  It must
have been quite a gripping spectacle, because we didn't even notice when
Anastasia joined us, sitting on the foot of the bed.  A well brought up
girl, she waited until Smegs stopped before speaking.

   "Excuse me, Miss.  Sorry to interrupt, but I wanted to borrow a cup of
sugar.  It's only until I can persuade the disco lad to steal some from the
restaurant."

   Anastasia wasn't staring at Smegs: the sight of women and girls
pleasuring themselves was such a commonplace thing that she accepted it as
normal behaviour.  I wondered what she would think if her mother did it at
home.  She sat patiently, waiting for an answer, picking her nose and
inspecting the proceeds minutely before wiping her fingers on the bed
covers.

   I was about to wipe it off, but Corinne told me to leave it until it
dried.  She was right, as usual.

   "Help yourself, Anastasia, darling," said Corinne.  "If the kettle has
boiled, you could make us all a cup of coffee as well.  Make one for Miss
Mountains as well."

   Anastasia bustled happily away, glad to be of service.

   "She's made herself really at home, hasn't she?" Smegs sounded bitter.

   "That's why I don't think she'd want to move into your place," I said.
"She really loves her little room.  I don't think wild horses could drag
her out of there."

   There was silence as we all considered this scenario, and Anastasia came
in with three mugs.  She only spilled about half of it when her left boob
contacted the door frame.  I felt for her, but realised that she would get
used to them in time.

   Smegs accepted her coffee with a grunt, and even when she was about to
scream and shout that there was no sugar in hers, she found Anastasia, ever
obliging, offering her the sugar bowl and spoon.

   "She's a little sweetie," I said, after Anastasia had closed the door
softly behind her.  "She could be quite useful about the place."

   "But Head Girl!" Smegs was coming to the boil again.

   "It won't be until the present Upper Sixth Form have left," Corinne
said. "That will be months yet."

   I saw Corinne's point.  "And even though some of the girls in the Lower
Sixth do have bigger boobs than Anastasia, she could easily be as big as
them by the end of the summer holidays.  And her boobs are so light, she
always be far more mobile then the older ones, size for size.  She's an
ideal role model for girls of all ages!"

   "Now you know she's not pregnant," Smegs said cruelly.

   "That was a mistake," I said.  "I always knew, deep down, she was a good
girl."

   We sat quietly, sipping our coffee.  Somewhere in the distance, a phone
rang two or three times.  Smegs had remained standing.  Finally, she
plonked down her empty mug.

   "Say thank you to your Head Girl for the coffee.  I'm off to my room to
rub myself with something cool and soothing ..."

   The kitchen door opened.  Anastasia came through.

   "Sorry to interrupt again, Miss.  Miss Gruntworthy, the phone rang just
now.  It was for you.  I tried to explain it was my room now, but Miss
Labia wouldn't listen.  She said it was Mrs Lashmore for you."

   I jumped up.  "Dawn Lashmore?  Is she still there?"

   "No, she couldn't stay.  I took a message." She plucked a scrap of paper
from beneath her breast.  What a clever idea.  I would never have thought
of tucking pieces of paper underneath mine.  "Here.  She said she is down
this way tomorrow with ...  Coots?"

   "Toots.  It's her stepdaughter."

   "Toots.  I remember Toots!  That little black kid.  She's coming down
here because Toots wants to discuss a business deal."

   "A business deal!" Smegs tossed her head.  "The girl's ten, for
Chrissakes!"

   "She's found a buyer for her Sack business ..."

   "That'll be her sex business, you remember, Anastasia, she deals in sex
slaves ..."

   "...her sex business, and they'll be almost passing the door, so would
it be all right if they dropped in, the way you said?  Just for a visit, to
look round."

   Corinne laughed.  "Sounds great.  It would be nice to see Dawn again. 
And young Toots."

   "That's right.  I still don't know if I really *believe* young Toots," I
said."

   "That's great!" Smegs was scornful.  "Tomorrow's Saturday.  Moggie will
be away getting fucked again.  St Cat's will be crawling with girls dressed
as absolute sluts and harlots.  That's if they bother getting out of bed at
all.  A fine impression that's going to make on a visitor.  A new girl's
mother, even!  Who is going to show Toots round the school?"

   Corinne and I looked at Anastasia.

   "How about the next Head Girl?"

   Anastasia looked puzzled.

   "Anastasia, how would you feel about becoming a guide to St Catherine's
High School for Girls for a day?  Take one of the next generation of St
Cat's girls under your wing.  Or take her to your bosom.  You two seem to
get on well together.  Chalk and cheese, but you do have an awful lot in
common."

   Thinking about it, I couldn't be altogether sure which was chalk and
which was cheese.

   "Sounds great," grinned Anastasia.

   "You wait 'til the First Form girls meet her," muttered Smegs.

   "Did Mrs Lashmore want me to call her back?" I asked.

   "No need," said Anastasia, "I told her eleven o' clock!"









   Chapter 65:- Toots Pays A Visit



   "You ready, Anastasia?  Your guest has arrived!" I pounded on the
kitchen door then returned to the window, where Corinne was peering out at
the huge car which had just pulled up outside.  Dawn and Toots climbed out
and stood looking around them at the intimidating buildings, the ancient
soft brick walls covered with ivy which had been carefully transplanted
four years ago by the builders.

   Anastasia appeared from her room.

   "Are you dressing like that?" I enquired, aghast.

   "What's wrong with it," she said defensively.  She looked down at
herself, seeing nothing too outrageous.  "It's not cold outside today!"

   I had never noticed Anastasia's legs before, apart from remarking
routinely on their creaminess.  Her skirt revealed rather more of them than
normally met the eye.  Golly, I thought.  Corinne had noticed them, too,
and her eyes were boggling.  It might have been slightly less disturbing if
Anastasia's skirt had covered the tops of her stockings, with their
curiously intricate array of stark black suspension devices, which
contrasted with her creaminess.

   Perhaps, too, her legs would have been a little less obtrusive if she
had been wearing more suitable shoes.  Black slingbacks with heels, in my
opinion, were not suitable wear for a young schoolgirl, even if she was to
be the next Head Girl of St Catherine's High School for Girls.

   One might have forgiven Anastasia all this if her top had been perhaps a
little less revealing.  I glanced down into her cleavage and noticed her
navel for the first time.  She was wearing only a man's extra large
singlet, canary yellow and stretched drum-tight across the peaks of her
nipples.  Great big mounds of breast oozed out of every available aperture,
plus a few which were not really available at all.

   "It might be better if you stopped breathing, Anastasia, you are rather
bouncy in that top."

   "My bra was a bit tight," she explained, "so I left it off."

   I removed Anastasia's glasses, polished them with my hankie and replaced
them on her nose.

   "You look great," I said.  "A credit to St Cat's.  What do you think,
Cee?"

   "Staggering," she agreed, experimentally touching the nearer of
Anastasia's nipples with a fingernail.  Not altogether surprisingly, it
erected itself even more than before.

   "Golly, Miss!  How did you do that?" Anastasia said.  "You'd better do
the other one to match!"

   We all hurried down the stairs and out of the door, where Dawn was
beginning to look anxious.  Understandably so, as a small crowd of
deliciously sluttish St Cat's girls had gathered to stare at her and Toots
in menacing silence.  Sluttish, perhaps, but they all gasped in unison as
Anastasia bounced into view.  Even in their tight jeans, their skimpy
shorts, their bursting sweaters and shirts, they couldn't hold a candle to
her.

   Toots, though, made my jaw fall open.  In an interesting complement to
her stepmother's county tweeds and sensible shoes, Toots was immaculately
dressed in a tailored black business suit, with crisp white shirt and tie
contrasting with her chocolate skin.  With her hair pulled up in a severe
style, she looked at least thirteen.  I allowed my gaze to run down across
her absurdly prominent bosom, to the just-above-the-knee skirt and beyond.
She moved with practised ease on her towering heels, unlike Anastasia, who
keep losing her balance and clip-clopping off in unexpected directions.

   The two girls sized each other up while Corinne and I greeted Dawn.  By
the time we turned to go indoors, the two were hugging each other with
abandonment.  A great sigh went up from the watching sluts.

   Toots banged on the roof of the car and spoke to her driver.  "You c'n
go an' get fucked, Nigel," she advised him, and the young man's face lit
up. "Come back when I call you, okay?"

   "Sure, Miss Toots," he said respectfully, and wheeled away with a
scrunch of gravel under his huge and manly wide wheels.

   "Will you girls be all right?" I asked Anastasia, and she beamed and
nodded.

   "I'll take Toots to the dorm," she said, "if I've got her with me, they
won't *dare* say anything!"

   They set off.  I heard Toots clear voice saying, "Hey, you grown dese
last few weeks!"

   "Come on, Dawn," I said.  "Let's have a cup of coffee."



   **********

   "What do you think of your first sight of St Cat's, then, Dawn?" Corinne
asked her.  We had dug out the best cups and saucers in her honour.

   "Most impressive place.  Lovely old buildings.  A real air of tradition
stretching back over the ages."

   "We're out of cow's milk, Dawn, would girl-milk be all right?"

   Dawn hesitated, uncertain what to say.

   "It's mine," said Corinne.

   "Oh, in that case, white with no sugar, please."

   "What do you think about the St Cat's girls?" I said.

   "Yes.  The girls.  I was going to mention them.  I mean, I'm used to
well-developed girls, *very* well-developed girls, what with my younger
daughter, and Toots, but Anastasia?  She seems to have grown immensely
since I saw her last.  And she's not been stuffing her bra, either.  She's
obviously not wearing one, the way she's bouncing!"

   "No," I agreed, feeling slightly uncomfortable.  How much could one say?
"She grew a bit last week.  It happens!"

   "And those others who came and watched us when we arrived and got out of
the car.  Nowhere near the size of Anastasia, but they look so ...  what's
the word I'm looking for ...?"

   "Sluttish?" Corinne offered.

   "That's one word for it," laughed Dawn.  "They look more like ..."

   "Whores," I suggested.

   "Well, I wouldn't put it quite as strongly as that, perhaps.  More like
tarts, really."

   "Tarts is a much nicer word," agreed Corinne.  "Sweeter.  They're really
all very nice girls.  Pure as the driven snow.  Or slush."

   "It's Saturday morning, you see," I said, as if that explained
everything.

   "Ah, I see!" Dawn shifted in her seat.  She reached behind her and came
up with whatever had been making her chair uncomfortable.

   "Oooh, I've been looking for that," admitted Corinne.

   I blushed slightly.  I had never realised Corinne used one of those.



   **********

   "They said there was a great big posh car pulled up and this girl got
out with some woman." Suzanne was sitting up in bed brushing her hair.  She
paused for breath.  It was hard work, brushing your hair in bed with tits
as big as hers.

   "Black girl, somebody said," Pansy watched her cousin's reflection in
her dressing table.  Pansy was experimenting with make-up.  She had so far
achieved a result midway between a streetwalker and Coco the Clown, and
felt quite encouraged.

   "How old?"

   "They didn't say.  Big tits, apparently, but she was wearing a black
suit so she was probably quite old.  But guess who was there to meet her?
Anastasia!  And they were hugging each other like long lost friends."

   "What, Anastasia and an old girl?  How would they know each other?"

   "Dunno.  But Anastasia was dressed like a tart, they said.  Short skirt,
no bra, tits like pumpkins."

   "How big's a pumpkin?" Suzanne looked at her cousin sharply.  She
sounded worried.

   "They come in all sizes.  We could ask the restaurant lady at dinner
time."

   "What happened anyway?  Where did they go?"

   "The woman went indoors with Miss Gruntworthy and ..." Pansy's eyes went
dreamy "...  Miss Meadowlark, but the black girl went off with Anastasia,
somewhere.  They wouldn't come in here, anyway, Anastasia's shit scared to
come anywhere near us now."

   "Yeah," said Suzanne.  "Just wait 'til I see her!  I'll show her what
big tits are all about!"



   **********

   "There go Toots and Anastasia now," said Dawn.

   We were standing by the window, looking down over the quadrangle.  Sure
enough, the two girls had just come into view on the far side, over by the
bra measuring facility.

   "I wonder where they've been," said Corinne.

   "Maybe Anastasia dropped in to see Clit and Flaps.  She said her bra was
tight this morning.  It's why she's not wearing one.  She might be taking
advantage of having Toots as an escort."

   "They're going into the dorm now by the look of it," laughed Corinne. 
"If she's going to need an escort, it will be in there!"

   I thought I'd better give Dawn an explanation.  "Since Anastasia grew
last week, she's scared of the other Junior girls.  She thinks they'll be
jealous of her being bigger than them."

   "I'd better not enrol Lucinda at St Cat's, then," Dawn spluttered. 
"She's got even bigger tits than Toots.  Not as big as Anastasia's any
more, though!  I can't believe how big she is now.  What causes it, does
anyone have any idea?"

   Corinne and I shook our heads, our eyes wide and innocent.

   "I can honestly say we have no idea, Mrs Lashmore!" Corinne said.

   In silence we watched the girls disappear indoors, then we turned away
from the window.

   Dawn shook her head disbelievingly.  "Have you noticed how Anastasia
seems to bounce so much more than you'd expect?  You would think her
breasts ought to be enormously heavy, yet the way they bounce around, you'd
almost think they were full of air!



   **********

   A girl burst into the First Form dormitory.

   "Look out!  Anastasia's coming.  She's got a little black woman with
her, great big tits.  They've *both* got great big tits!"

   Suzanne gaped at the girl, and wondered whether to get out of bed.  Too
late, she didn't want to be caught half naked by Anastasia and her guest.
She turned and plumped up her pillows, then leaned back against them like
the Queen of Sheba.

   Pansy, her hands shaking, left an erratic smear of lipstick across one
cheek.  She turned to look at the door.  All down the length of the dorm,
anxious faces gazed in the same direction.  Absolute silence fell.

   "They've gone," muttered a single voice.

   "Shhhhhhhhh!"

   And the door opened.

   "This is the First Form dormitory, where you'll be sleeping when you
arrive.  This lot will have moved out by then, they'll all be in the
Seconds ..." Anastasia strolled down the centre aisle, allowing her breasts
to bounce no more than six inches or so.  She was followed by the wondering
Toots, who stared about her as if she had never been inside a dormitory in
her life.  She sniffed the air.

   "Smells sexy in here," she said.

   "Always does on a Saturday morning," said Anastasia, "the ones who
aren't experimenting with perfume and stuff just lie in bed all morning
wanking." She fixed her gaze on Suzanne, who felt herself blushing.

   "Dat's a shame!  Nevah waste a good or-gasm!" Toots grinned about her,
and those girls who were still in bed looked ashamed of themselves.

   "I'd better introduce you to some of my friends," sighed Anastasia,
unwillingly.  "That's Pansy, Shona over there, milking herself ..."

   In turn, the girls acknowledged Toots's cheery wave.

   "...  and this is Suzanne."

   Toots looked Suzanne up and down, then stepped over to her bed and
pulled down the covers.

   "Hey, man, you, pretty big!  Not as big as Stazia, but big." She hastily
replaced the sheet.  "Carry on playin' wid yourself," she said, and took a
step back, fanning herself with her hand.

   Suzanne was outraged.  None of the other girls would even look at her.
Toots had done something not one of the others would have dared to do. 
They bit their lips and looked anywhere but at Suzanne.

   Anastasia and Toots moved on.  "Hi, Staze," murmured Shona quietly. 
"You're huge now!"

   Anastasia blushed prettily.

   Toots wanted to know how much milk Shona produced, was she under
contract to anyone for its sale, and did Shona know that her tits were the
biggest Toots had seen since her friend Candi had her second baby?  Shona
said about two gallons; no, she wasn't and no, she didn't.  It seemed to
satisfy Toots, who nodded.

   "We'd better be getting on, Toots," said Anastasia.  "It's nearly
feeding time."

   "Bye, girls!" Toots waved to them all, shook Suzanne's foot playfully
beneath the bed covers, and pranced out of the dorm.

   Silence returned.

   "Well ...!" said a voice.

   "Don't you dare say a fucking word," Suzanne snarled at nobody in
particular, and flinging the sheets back, she leapt out of bed.  Then she
stormed out of the dorm to the toilet.  The door slammed behind her.  One
or two of the more daring girls pretended to fan themselves with exercise
books, but only when they were sure cousin Pansy wasn't looking.



   **********

   "Here they come, I think."

   Anastasia's crystal voice was echoing down the corridor.  They stopped
outside the door.

   "My room's next door.  I've got my own key now, but your mother's in
here with Miss Meadowlark and Miss Gruntworthy." She lowered her voice to a
piercing whisper.  "They sleep together, you know!"

   The door opened and the girls came in, to be faced by a blushing trio of
women.  Corinne and I were wondering where to hide our faces, while Dawn,
who had already guessed anyway, would rather not have heard.

   "Hi, Miss.  We've had a good look around.  I ordered my new bra from
Miss Clit.  She says I'm a bit special, so I'll need to go back when she's
put the right cups on an SS for me, whatever that means."

   "It means your boobs are a little bigger than one would normally expect
to find on such a small girl," I told her."

   "We know that!" Anastasia wrinkled her nose.  "Why do they have to be so
technical about it?"

   "It's just the way they are, these bra people.  They like a bit of
mystique."

   "Well, she said I've got such lovely nipples, she's going to give me a
FreeTips!  Whoopee!  She says I'll be the first FreeTips in the Juniors!"

   "Yes," I said, "I imagine you will be."

   "It's a good job they're not heavy," admitted Anastasia, cupping her
mounds from underneath, "they've been bouncing around so much, they hurt a
bit."

   Toots took a step into the limelight in the centre of the room.  "See
anythin' different Auntie Mum?" she giggled, thrusting out her chest and
jiggling around a bit.

   "Well, it's difficult to say, since I don't often see you in that smart
suit, but yes, you look a little fuller, somehow."

   "I got me a new bra," she crowed.  "I forget de size.  It was a whole
load of letters.  "What you tink, Miss Gruntworthy?"

   "Very nice," I said faintly.

   "I paid for it wid me own money," Toots said.  "It wouldn't be fair to
get it free until I start here properly in September.  I earned fourteen
pound twenty-five down de school last evenin'!"

   "Which stingy bugger only paid twenty-five pence," asked Anastasia
innocently.

   "All of them," giggled Toots, and punched Anastasia on the upper arm.

   The St Cat's girl looked confused.  She'd obviously led a sheltered life
if she hadn't heard that one before.

   Dawn looked even more embarrassed.

   "Toots does odd jobs down at the school," she explained.  I wondered if
Dawn had led a sheltered life as well.

   "So what do you think of St Cat's, Toots," Corinne said, taking a deep
breath and saving the situation.

   "I tink I can do somethin' wid dis place," she said modestly.  "It might
take a month or two's organisin', but de place shows definite po-tential!"









   Chapter 66:- A Night In



   Corinne had gone to the restaurant with the empty picnic hamper.  The
disco lad had Saturdays off.

   "Did you like Toots, Miss Gruntworthy?" Anastasia looked up at me
anxiously.  Her singlet, or whatever it was, had finally given up the
unequal struggle.  There was more of Anastasia outside it than in.

   "Excuse me," I said, and pulled the edge of the yellow cotton across so
that it covered her right nipple and at least a third of the areola.  I
gave up when her left one plopped out into view.

   "I've been having that same trouble for the last half hour," she sighed,
"either this top has shrunk, or I'm getting bigger.  I hope I'm not getting
bigger, 'cos Miss Clit will be very cross.  Won't she?"

   "You can't be getting any bigger, Anastasia, surely." I didn't feel too
confident about that.  "Not that Clit will mind all that much.  But it's
probably just this vest thing getting stretched out of shape.  Where did
you get it?"

   "It used to belong to my Dad; I borrowed it last time I was at home.  It
was way too big for me then.  I'd better give it back to him."

   "Unless he's been on a body-building course, darling, I wouldn't bother.
The way you've stretched it, the poor thing will never be the same again,
I'm afraid."

   "Maybe I can find one of the Senior girls with smaller boobs than me,"
she said.  "It must fit *somebody*.  But you didn't say if you liked Toots,
Miss.  Do you?"

   "I think she's sweet.  How did she get on with the girls in your dorm?"

   "Suze doesn't like her at all.  And I think Pan's scared of her.  But
she got on well with Shona.  Funny, she asked her about her milk."

   "Her MILK?"

   "She asked how much she gave each day, and if she was under contract to
anyone, whatever that means.  And she said she had the biggest tits she'd
seen since her friend Candi had her second baby.  Candi must be really
huge, Miss, 'cos Shona's twice as big as me, even!"

   So, I thought, young Toots was thinking of getting into the dairy
business.  I'd better not tell Smegs, not in her present mood.  In fact,
Toots had asked quite a few questions about milk.  How many girls were
milking, how much they gave.  She'd even seemed on the verge of asking
Corinne, which would have been really embarrassing.

   All St Cat's needed, like a hole in the head, was yet another
entrepreneur about the place.  Give Toots a week or two and she'd be
introducing a milking shed all over again.  And what about panties?  What
about when she heard of the flourishing soiled panties market?  But the
major worry was the sex slaves business.  With her contacts in other parts
of the world, there would be every opportunity for Toots to expand her
lucrative trade in human flesh.

   "There was something else, Miss.  She kept asking about the boys. 
'Where are the boys?' I said there aren't any, St Cat's is for girls, but
she laughed.  She said there must be boys.  I said some of the older girls
have boys in their dorm sometimes, but not the Juniors, and she said 'why
not?' Why not, Miss?"

   "Well, it's a girls' school, Anastasia.  Why would you want boys in the
dorm?"

   "I asked her that, and she said, 'for fucking, why else!' And I asked
her if she'd ever done it, and she just laughed."

   I held out my arms to Anastasia and held her while she looked up at me
wonderingly.

   "Darling, Toots has had a very disturbed childhood.  She learned about
things you can't learn in school, not even in St Cat's.  And some nasty men
did things to her that have made her a bit different.  Her mother says
she's getting better, but she still needs to meet lots and lots of boys all
the time.  It's the way she is."

   "She asked where the nearest school with boys in it was.  I told her it
was miles away, towards the town.  She said she'd take me over there in the
car when she comes to St Cat's.  Will she be able to have her car and her
driver, Miss?  He's hunky, Nigel.  He gave me a big French kiss before they
left, and he had his hand right down inside my top, underneath my boobs. 
It felt scary!"

   "Anastasia!  You let him do that to you?"

   "I suppose that's how this top got so much out of shape, Miss, isn't
it?"

   "Anastasia!  Answer the question.  You let him do that?"

   "Toots told him to.  He didn't want to really, but she said, 'go on,
Nigel, give Stazie a real big wet one, and give her tits a good feel-up as
well'.  So he did.  I think he quite enjoyed it in the end, after I held
his willie for him.  Toots showed me how.  It sort of twitched a bit, but I
suppose that was because he wasn't used to girls holding his willie for
him. Funny.  It was a lot bigger than a courgette."

   "Yes, I suppose it would be." I felt faint all of a sudden.

   "Miss?" She took her glasses off, then leaned closer and I felt her soft
breath on my lips.  I could smell her fresh sweat.  "When the Juniors get
boys in their dorm, could I be allowed to have one in my room as well.  I
am a Junior, after all, Miss."

   "We'll see!"

   "Oooooh, Miss!" She showed me she had learned a thing or two from
Toots's driver.



   **********

   "We're not having that little bitch at St Cat's," proclaimed Suzanne.

   Surprisingly, Shona spoke up.  "Why not, Suze?  Just because she's a
year younger than you, and she only comes up to your chin and she's a lot
skinnier and she's got bigger tits?"

   "She hasn't."

   "She has.  She came and talked to me.  They're not as big as Anastasia's
but they're still loads bigger than yours!"

   "Well?" Suzanne shifted her attack.  "When Cassandra joins next year,
she'll be younger than you, and hers are loads bigger than yours.  Twice as
big.  And she gives more milk!"

   "I don't mind," said Shona mildly.  "And if they're twice as big as
mine, they're twenty times as big as yours!" To reinforce her point, Shona
stood up, her gigantic milk-laden udders each at least two feet in
diameter.

   Suzanne turned over and lay face down on her bed.  A brief burst of
applause rang out.



   **********

   "Oh, excuse ME!  I'll come back later, shall I?"

   "Cee!  You're back early!"

   "It took me half an hour.  You must have got carried away, the two of
you."

   I sat up on the bed.  Anastasia, peering about her short-sightedly
without her glasses, was struggling back into her misshapen singlet with a
stupid grin on her face.  She was flushed, pink spreading down her
shoulders to the tops of her breasts.  She tucked her nipples out of sight
and tugged the shoulder straps back up.  One breast immediately flopped out
again and she sighed theatrically.

   Corinne put the hamper down in a marked manner.  "Help yourselves," she
said bitterly.  "No doubt you've both worked up an appetite."

   "Anastasia was asking me some questions."

   "I'm sure you gave her all the answers."

   "We only had a little kiss.  Anastasia was feeling lonely."

   "Shan, you don't need to explain.  It's all right."

   "Anastasia, darling," I said gently, "why don't you find something more
comfortable to wear while we get the picnic hamper ready.  It's all right,
we won't start without you ...!" She shot out of the room.

   "No, Shan!" Corinne shrugged me off.  "Don't bother saying anything at
all.  You're a teacher, Anastasia's eleven years old, you were rolling on
the bed, snogging with her.  If you were a man, you'd be locked up in jail
and they'd throw away the key."

   "And quite right, too.  She was only saying thank you, Cee.  I think I
may have promised her a boy for her bedroom when Toots arrives."

   "You what?"

   "Toots was asking about boys.  She wants to have boys allowed in the
Junior dorms as well as the Seniors.  Quite reasonable.  She could probably
sue the school if we tried to deny her the right to have the use of boys."

   "So you've promised Anastasia a boy in her room as well?  Are you crazy,
or what?  If she can twist you round her little finger just by flashing her
tits at you, she'll have that room full of boys before the end of the
week."

   "What a lovely thought!  I wonder if she'll have a few spares?"

   Where had Corinne gone?  Anastasia came out of her bedroom dressed more
comfortably.  Perhaps it was just as well that Corinne had stormed out. 
Anastasia may have been more comfortable, but she was scarcely dressed
appropriately for a picnic on the bed with her teacher.

   "That's a nice top, Anastasia, I haven't seen that one before."

   "It's not too small, is it, Miss?" She ran her little hands down the
mighty swooping curves of her breasts.  They reached the nipples, then
encountered bare flesh.  The top was supposed to be one of those stretchy
ones that cover the breasts then hang provocatively straight down from
there.  In Anastasia's case, the thing was so overloaded, it came down only
as far as the nipples.  The lower halves of her areolae were revealed,
startlingly plump and puffy.  Dark pink, they were almost four inches
across.

   I peered at her from between my fingers.  "I suppose it is a bit too
small, yes.  Look, darling, I think it looks fine on you, but just in case
Miss Meadowlark comes back, how about finding something else a little less
revealing?"

   "Oh, all right," she pouted.  "Where's Miss Meadowlark gone anyway?"

   "She's upset.  Probably because she found us kissing.  She'll be back."

   "Pity.  We'll have to leave something for her.  And I'm starving!"

   Anastasia disappeared into her bedroom again.  She was a long time
coming back.  In the end, I went looking for her.  She was sitting on her
bed surrounded by clothes, mostly shirts and sweaters.  She looked up over
her shoulder as I came in.

   "Nothing fits, Miss.  This is ridiculous!"

   "That T-shirt you're wearing is big enough, isn't it?"

   "What, this?" She turned round to show me.

   "Ah, I see.  Look, come back in and try some of my things.  I may have
something you can have."

   She squeaked in excitement and followed me.  I scrabbled about in my
half of the wardrobe and found a blue denim shirt.  "Try that," I said, and
tossed it to her.  She was wearing only her panties and I had to look away.
The sight was far too disturbing.  She climbed into the shirt and fastened
the buttons.  It fitted where it touched, which was mostly across the
mounds of her breasts.  Oh, shit, I thought, she is definitely still
growing.

   "Do I look all right in this?" she asked, knowing full well that she
looked incredible.

   "It will do for now, you can try something else after we've eaten."

   Boys in Junior bedrooms were not going to be a good idea at all, I
realised.



   **********

   "Where is she?" Corinne paused just inside the door.

   "She's gone to bed.  Poor kid was tired out.  We've left you something
to eat."

   Corinne sat on the edge of the bed, her head bowed.  "I had something
while I was out."

   I didn't ask her where she'd been, but she had a jacket thrown over her
shoulders, and her jeans, which she had been wearing earlier.  She smelled
slightly of smoke and beer, so I assumed she'd been to the pub.  She sat
quietly for a while, then shrugged the jacket off and dropped it on the
rug.

   "Cee, I'm sorry about earlier.  It was stupid of me."

   I touched her hand and she didn't pull away.  Finally, she turned to me
and gave me a tired little smile.

   "Not stupid.  You were just being Shannie.  A little girl flashes her
gigantic tits at you, you are going to snog her.  You're made that way, I'm
glad to say!" and she pulled me closer.  I fell over on the bed and she
stroked my hair.  "I'm tired, too.  I've done nothing, but I feel as if
I've run a marathon."

   "Did you walk far?"

   "No.  I caught the bus to the first village.  Just a quiet little pub,
half a dozen locals in there."

   "I bet they'd never seen anything like you!"

   "They were all pretending not to look!" Corinne giggled suddenly. 
"There were a couple of young blokes in there with their girlfriends. 
Quite big girls." She described them with her hands.  "The boys couldn't
keep their eyes off me.  They lasted about two minutes before the girls
dragged them out."

   Corinne raised the lid of the hamper and poked around inside.  She took
out a chicken leg and a hunk of French bread and waded into them as if she
was famished.  I gently rubbed her shoulder with my hand and she bent her
head to the side to brush it with her lips.  Over her head, I saw the door
to Anastasia's room open a few inches and the girl peeped out.

   She looked at Corinne, showing relief that she was back.  She nodded
slightly and grinned, then the door closed quietly but firmly behind her.

   "I hope you're thirsty, Shannie," said Corinne with a twinkle in her
eye. "I'm rather full tonight."

   "Well, since you mention it, I am a little dry!"

   Corinne spluttered.  "You, Shannie?  Dry?  Never!"

   She began to unbutton her shirt, what seemed like dozens of tiny
buttons. I watched, fascinated, my throat swelling with lust as more and
more luscious flesh was revealed.

   "Come on, then.  Let's see how dry you really are.  And let's see how
wet we can make you!"









   Part XXIII









   Chapter 67:- A Role For Rumiko



   "This will be a very brief meeting this morning," smiled Moggie.  She
had obviously had a good weekend.  Some Mondays, she came back to St Cat's
like a bear with a sore head: this morning, she had a well-fucked look to
her.  She was even sitting in her chair carefully, as if things were
painful.  I wondered how Professor Garibaldi was feeling this morning. 
Professor Garibaldi was the head teacher of the nearest boys' school, Lord
Edward's Grammar School, a dozen miles away as the crow flew.

   "Did you have a good weekend, Miss Thunderbolt?" Smegs asked her
waspishly.

   "Yes, thank you, Megan." Moggie looked at her without malice. 
"Professor Garibaldi and I had a number of matters of mutual interest which
needed a good airing.  We discovered much common ground.  I hope to be able
to forge new links between St Cat's and Lord Edward's in the near future."

   I bet she did.

   So would Toots, I thought.

   "As I say, just a short meeting today.  A quickie." A dreamy expression
came over her face as she said that last word.  It made me feel slightly
ill.  The woman was far too old to behave the way she was carrying on. 
Continuous sex every weekend was not good for a woman approaching the
change.  I bet it was even less good for her partners.

   "Now, then." She consulted a list of items.  I craned my neck to see if
my name was on it.  Moggie cupped her hand around the paper.  "Miss Rhys ap
Llewelyn Owen.  I happened to hear the St Cat's Chorus at rehearsals last
week.  Something seemed to be lacking.  I think we need tenors and basses."

   There was a sharp intake of breath.  Miss Rhys ap Llewelyn Owen
stammered, "I have already recruited all the girls with the deepest voices
in the school, Miss Thunderbolt.  Many of them have moustaches and
extremely short hair."

   "They don't have cocks, though, do they, Gwladys?" Moggie said sweetly.
"I want you to contact this number ..." she tore a corner off her piece of
paper and slid it across to Corinne, who glanced at it with raised eyebrows
and passed it to Miss Rhys ap Llewelyn Owen "...  and speak to the
choirmaster, Mr Eifion Gruffydd Lloyd-Jones.  You will find you have much
in common, I am sure."

   Miss Rhys ap Llewelyn Owen looked panic-stricken.  "But Miss
Thunderbolt, a MIXED choir?  Surely not.  We can't have *boys* coming
here!" She almost spat the word 'boys'.

   "I've thought about that," said Moggie.  "We will need to phase in these
things gradually.  In the early stages, we can meet on neutral ground,
neither here nor at Lord Edward's.  Insignificant detail.  Just get on with
it."

   Moggie waved away Miss Rhys ap Llewelyn Owen's protests.  I was
horrified.  The St Cat's Chorus consisted of thirty of the most
unreservedly horny girls in the school.  It boasted an average bust
measurement in excess of seventy inches.  Closer links with a bunch of
adolescent boys with newly broken voices would lead to inevitable
consequences entirely beyond anyone's control.  Our girls would make
mincemeat of them.

   Three girls had successfully achieved pregnancy as a result of their
activities on the St Cat's Chorus Grand Tour, and they had been quietly
replaced with hand-picked non-virgins.  The policy of St Cat's on pregnancy
was not to ignore it but to maintain a low profile.  All pregnant girls at
St Cat's were allowed to dress in such a way that they looked like ordinary
girls with extremely large breasts.  They were thus able to keep their
condition a secret right up until the time they gave birth.  A small but
well-equipped nursery looked after the babies and the mothers quietly got
on with being schoolgirls.  This was a facility which the school chose not
to publicise in its publicity literature, although any parents making
direct enquiries would be told the truth and reassured.

   Visitors to the school occasionally caught a glimpse of an undeniably
pregnant girl, or one of the school nannies exercising a group of the
babies and toddlers.  In response to potentially embarrassing questions,
our unswerving policy was always to tell the truth.  In a school with
something like two hundred and thirty girls, a proportion of pregnant ones
was inevitable.  At any time, the number was between twenty and forty,
depending on the season, and the degree of pregnancy varied from two to
nine months.

   But I digress.  I get so carried away sometimes.

   Moggie was addressing Corinne.  "I have authorised the construction of
wheelbarrow parking racks outside all classrooms.  There will be a
purpose-built wheelbarrow shed and repair facilities.  Any girls who have
been put off having larger breasts because of our lack of
wheelbarrow-awareness may now be encouraged to grow freely and express
themselves"

   Corinne nodded enthusiastically and made a note in her notebook.

   "And talking of expressing themselves: Chauntaille, I would like you to
compile a register of lactating girls.  Full details, please, age, weight,
measurements - get the Junior Statistics Group to help you - milk yield,
all the usual stuff ..."

   "Me, Miss Thunderbolt?" I was aghast.  "Why me?  Surely Miss Meadowlark
would be more suitable.  After all, she is lactating herself ..."

   Corinne confirmed this fact by suddenly sitting upright in her chair and
cursing fluently.  She plucked the front of her blouse away from the tip of
her breast, but too late.  A spreading patch of milk was already soaking
the material into exciting transparency.  For me, this was one of the joys
of the FreeTips ScatBra.

   We all gathered round and watched.  Even Miss Rhys ap Llewelyn Owen
seemed fascinated, although Corinne's moans as she became increasingly
aroused and orgasmic seemed to embarrass the choir mistress and she clapped
her hands over her sensitive ears.

   "That's why I chose you, Chauntaille," said Moggie, raising her voice to
be heard, "Corinne is too close to the problem.  Now, I don't want a St
Cat's Dairy, but I do have an idea we are wasting a great deal of valuable
girl-milk.  I need an indication of the scale of the problem.  Is it five
gallons a day, or five hundred?"

   "But I don't even like milk," I muttered.

   "Huh!" said Corinne.  "You seemed to enjoy it well enough last night!"

   "That was different," I said, weakly.

   Moggie looked interested, but pulled herself together with an effort. 
"Statistics," she went on.  "The bra returns show me that Anastasia applied
to the bra manufactory for a new garment on Saturday morning.  Is she still
getting bigger, Chauntaille?"

   "I haven't checked, Miss, but she seems to be growing still, yes."

   "Good.  Keep an eye on it.  And there was a cash sale on Saturday, a
Miss T Lashmore.  Is this girl a student?"

   "Not yet, Miss.  She joins the First Form in September."

   "Does she?  My God!" Moggie's eyebrows went into orbit as she studied
Toots's measurements as supplied by Clit and Flaps.  "Is this a mistake,
this number?" She showed me the paper.

   "No, that's right."

   "Fucking Hell," murmured Moggie.  Things are certainly looking up.  I'd
better start planning an extension to the wheelbarrow sheds." She moved on
reluctantly.  "Last item.  Megan.  Panties!"

   Smegs went pale.  "What about them?"

   "They are taking up an increasing amount of your valuable and expensive
time.  I need to take them away from you."

   "But, Miss ...!"

   "Don't worry, you will still be in overall charge of the soiled panties
operation.  You will just not be doing the hands-on work.  You will
delegate that to a team which will take over collection, sorting, quality
control and despatch."

   "But, that's the best part of it, Miss.  You can't trust other people to
sort panties, Miss.  It takes special expertise."

   "I'm sure you will be able to find a suitable team leader, Megan.  If
you can't, I will appoint someone myself.  The choice is yours, Megan.  I
will be scrupulously fair.  You can have three days.  By the way, I would
suggest young Rumiko.  She is a born organiser, the Martial Arts
Organisation is now running smoothly, and she has knowledge of Japan, our
chief customer.  If you like, we could send for her now and appoint her
team leader."

   "But, Miss ...!"

   Poor Smegs had crumpled visibly.  Did Moggie have no idea what effect
this would have on the poor girl.  She lived for her soiled panties. 
Probably four days of her week were spent in sorting, sniffing and
generally handling the intimate garments of the girls of St Catherine's
High School for Girls.  This would break her.

   Without thinking, I threw an arm round Smegs's shoulders and she turned
her face into my cleavage and dissolved into floods of tears.

   "Now look what you've done," I said to a startled Moggie.

   "It's for the best," she shouted over Smegs's howls.  "I can't ask a
senior member of my teaching staff to sort girls underwear."

   "You don't need to ask her.  She loves doing it."

   I held Smegs even closer, and Corinne got up and came round to help,
unbuttoning her shirt.

   "Here, Shan, let her have some of this!" She offered a giant breast to
Smegs who took her face out of my chest and sniffed the air for a moment
before gratefully latching on to Corinne's engorged nipple.  It took a few
seconds, then with Corinne perched herself on my lap, Smegs fell into a
smooth, rhythmic sucking.

   I looked at them fondly and with deep love and affection.  Smegs's eyes
were shut, tears drying on her cheeks.  Corinne gazed down at her with a
little private smile, and I could already feel the wetness of her arousal
through my skirt.  My arms went around both of them.  At moments like this,
I wished I could give milk myself.



   **********

   Corinne fed Smegs twice more during the day, and was still doing it when
Rumiko presented herself at our door early in the evening.

   She bowed politely.  "Ah, Miss Mountain thirsty.  Excerrent!  Carry on,
Miss Meadowrarko."

   "Thank you, Rumiko," said Corinne.  "Excuse me if I don't get up, but
Miss Mountains will only be a few more minutes.  Perhaps you wouldn't mind
waiting?"

   "No, Miss.  Don' stop.  Miss Mountain rooking happy."

   "Yes, she's happy," I said.  "For the moment."

   Smegs let go of Corinne's nipple and sat up, looking round at us.  She
began to cry.  Corinne took her in her arms and held her for some time,
then she gently detached herself, and laid Smegs over her shoulder, rubbing
her back softly.

   In a few moments, we were rewarded by a satisfying belch.  Rumiko and I
both said "Aaaaah" in chorus.  "There's a good girl, Megan," said Corinne.
"Once more ...?" Smegs did it again, and sat up.

   "Thanks, Cee," she said.  "Hi, Rumiko."

   "Hi, Miss Mountain.  You ready to do panties with me?"

   Tears came to Smegs's eyes again, but she was brave.  She got up, giving
another small burp.

   "Do you want me to come with you, Smegs?" I asked her.

   "No thank you, Shan.  This is something I must do myself.  Come on,
Rumi."

   They left.

   "Poor thing," said Corinne, putting her breasts away.  It made me feel
sad.  "You can have yours at bedtime, darling," she said, touching my nose
with her finger.  "Those knickers mean so much to Megan."

   "Moggie can be very heartless.  Mind you, her room does stink with those
sacks in there all the time."

   "It's a tremendous money-spinner, though, Shan.  I bet those panties
have brought in more money than even the dairy used to.  And it's all free.
The girls are a self-sustaining source of nastiness.  A bottomless supply,
you might say."

   "Perhaps not quite the right word, but I know what you mean.  And Rumiko
will make a great job of it.  But poor Smegs.  We need to think of
something else to replace panties for Smegs.  Something to fill an aching
void in her life."

   "A boyfriend, you mean?" Corinne wrinkled her nose with distaste.

   "I don't know if one boyfriend would be enough to keep Smegs satisfied.
Even one girlfriend isn't enough: she needs them half a dozen at a time. 
But she needs somebody, certainly."

   "I wonder ...  how about the Lord Edward's Choir?"

   I stared at Corinne.  "For Smegs?  A bit young, aren't they?  She'd
prefer something a little more mature."

   "But there are enough of them.  Surely, one mature boyfriend is about
equivalent to thirty acne-ridden choristers with recently-descended
testicles."

   "It would depend on what Smegs was intending to do with them.  And how
would you propose to arrange for Smegs to meet this testosterone farm?"

   "Easy.  Miss Rhys ap Llewelyn Owen isn't at all keen on her precious
girls of the St Cat's Chorus getting tainted by all those hairy-arsed Lord
Ted's boys.  Why not suggest that Smegs acts as a go-between.  A liaison
officer.  A negotiator.  She might even fancy this what's-his-name, Mr
Eifion Gruffydd Lloyd-Jones?"

   "Smeggy with a Welshman?  That would be a laugh.  I wonder what he's
like.  One of those little five-foot tall ones covered from head to foot
with black hair?"

   Corinne shuddered.  "It needn't matter.  She could always do it with the
lights out.  And she'd have her pick of the choirboys.  There would be
Sixth Formers in the Lord Ted's Choir.  Some of those would be nearly as
old as she is."

   "With an emotional age of twelve."

   "Shan, ALL males have an emotional age of twelve."

   "You must have been just plain lucky then, that's all I can say."



   **********

   Suzanne pushed away her dinner plate and chewed a thumbnail.  "Pan? 
Have you heard from your Mum lately?"

   "What about?"

   "You know!  About what I told my Mum about.  Us getting bigger!"

   "Suze!  No!  Surely you can't be serious about that.  I thought you'd
forgotten the stupid idea."

   "Why should I forget?  The situation is getting serious.  We used to be
the two biggest busts in the Juniors.  Now Shona's miles bigger than us
..."

   "Shona's fat, she doesn't count ..."

   "And those two in the Seconds are bigger than you, and getting close to
my size, Elphinstone and Ng.  And next year, Cassandra will be starting,
and she's bigger than anyone in the world.  And that Toots girl..."

   "You haven't mentioned Anastasia, Suze!"

   Suzanne gritted her teeth.  "Don't mention that little cow!"

   Pansy sat next to her cousin and stroked her hair.  "All right, I won't
mention her again.  But you can't be serious about using chemicals to grow
yourself.  Or both of us.  Anything might happen!"

   "But I'm tiny, compared to the others.  I want to be biggest again!"

   "Suze.  Please promise you won't do anything silly.  You might have
another growth spurt.  Just think, you might wake up in the morning and
find you're bigger than Anastasia again!"

   "I told you not to mention that fucking cow!"

   "Sorry!" Pansy suddenly looked up with a distracted expression.  "Oh,
God, look!"

   "What's the matter, Pan?  Oh, look, it's your girlfriend."

   "She's not.  Oh, shit, she's coming over here.  Good afternoon, Miss
Meadowlark."

   "Hi, Pansy, Suzanne!  Mind if I join you for a moment?"

   Pansy blushed crimson and pulled out a chair for Corinne to sit down at
the table.  It felt as if the entire school was watching.

   "There was something I wanted to ask you both.  It's a secret, though.
Can I trust you not to tell a soul?"

   "Of course, Miss!" Suzanne propped her elbows on the table and stared at
the teacher, all ears.  Pansy was still bright red and gnawing on her
knuckles.  She felt a chilly moistness in her panties, and wondered what
Miss Meadowlark was going to ask.

   "It's two things, actually." Corinne looked from one girl to the other.
"One is milk."

   "MILK?" The cousins responded together.

   "Milk.  Have you done any research into what causes some of your victims
...  your girls ...  to start giving milk?  With a view to stopping it? 
Shona, for instance.  She gives enormous quantities of milk.  Have you ever
asked her if she would be happier if she dried up?"

   The girls looked at each other.

   "No, of course not," said Suzanne in some astonishment.

   "Do you think you might look into it for me?  Don't tell anyone, of
course.  But as you know, I'm giving milk ever since I grew the last time,
and it can be inconvenient and embarrassing in public.  I'd like to stop if
I could.  And so might Shona!"

   "Doesn't Miss Gruntworthy like to drink it, though, Miss?" Pansy was
still very pink and damp, but she had recovered enough to ask a question or
two.

   Corinne blushed herself.  "She does, yes," she admitted, "but it would
be a minor inconvenience for her if she had to use cows' milk again.  You
will think about it, won't you?  Please?"

   "Yes, Miss," the girls nodded as Miss Meadowlark got up to leave.

   "Oh, the other thing.  Was there any FatLite left over after that last
batch?  Remember when Anastasia got huge ..." Suzanne growled dangerously
"...  and those Second Formers grew as well?"

   The girls remembered only too well.

   "Oh, yes, Miss.  We can get you plenty of that.  Did you want some?"

   "If possible, yes please."

   "No problem," grinned Suzanne.  "We'll bring it to your bedroom after
school tonight."

   "No!" Corinne said quickly.  "Can you arrange to leave it somewhere and
I can pick it up?  I don't want everyone knowing about it."

   "That's fine, Miss," purred Suzanne.  "Your secret is safe with us!"









   Chapter 68:- Research And Development



   "Ah, Jus' Pray Miss?  I tock to you?" I was just finishing my lunch.

   "Of course you can talk to me Rumiko.  Any time.  What's the problem?"

   "No probrem, Miss.  But Miss Mountain she terru me to correct panties
from Orr St Cat's."

   "I think what you're telling me is that Miss Mountains has told you to
collect panties from all the girls at St Cat's?"

   "That's what I said, Miss."

   It was encouraging to see that Smegs had seen the light and delegated
this task.  Mundane jobs like pantie collection, sniffing and sorting were
no part of a teacher's brief, if that's the word I'm looking for.  "What's
this, Rumiko?"

   She was opening out a huge sheet of paper, completely covered with tiny
sketches, immaculately drawn and captioned in meticulous hand lettering.  I
studied it for several minutes while Rumiko moved slowly around the nearby
tables, tidying up as she went.

   "It's no use, Rumiko.  What is it?"

   "Is correction system for panties, Miss.  Here.  Prastic bins, rike
retterbox.  Different corror.  Red, green, orange ..."

   "Yes, I see that.  How does it work?"

   Rumiko explained everything in minute detail.  I was left feeling no
wiser, but marginally better informed.  I had no idea why Rumiko had
singled me out to hear about the details of her collection system, unless
she simply wanted to bounce her ideas off someone.

   I now understood that Rumiko had arranged for these plastic bins, with
slots like letterboxes to be erected at half a dozen strategic sites around
the school.  They would be in groups of six bins, each of a different
colour.  The girls would be issued with panties in corresponding colours,
and as soon as a girl had sufficiently soiled her underwear, she would post
it in the appropriate slot.

   Simple, no more sorting.

   Wait a minute, I had told her.  We don't sort panties according to their
colour, we sort them according to the type of stains.

   No problem, she assured me.  Computer.

   That dreaded word.  And then the full horror of Rumiko's scheme was
revealed to me.  Every girl in the school would be asked to attach a label
bearing her name to each pair of soiled panties she handed in for the next
week.  These would be sorted by hand, the last of the traditional
hand-sorted panties.  Smegs herself would lead the sorting team.  Rumiko
would note details of the type of stains produced by each girl, and enter
them into the computer.

   The computer would then classify the girls according to their regular
soiling habits, and allocate each girl to one of six groups.  Each group
would receive panties of a different colour, and post them in the boxes,
which would be unloaded straight into cartons for shipping.

   "Save sorting.  Save money!"

   How had the blindingly obvious flaw in this plan escaped Rumiko's
attention?  It was so obvious I hesitated to point it out to her.

   "Two things," I said.  "What if girls produce different stains on
different occasions?" I pointed out that stains were the result of outside
forces, largely beyond the girls' control.  If, as she had told me, a Type
'A' girl suddenly produced a Type 'C' stain, what would happen to the
system?

   "No!" She shook her head firmly.  "Produce one type stain, always
produce one type stain.  Orraways!  No change!" Her hand slammed down, its
edge contacting the tabel firmly.  A small pile of plates was snapped clean
in half by the impact of the blow.  "Hai!" Rumiko shouted, rather as an
afterthought.

   That was that, then.  Once this week was over, a girl was forever
classified as a dribbler, or a gusher, or a negligent user of toilet
tissue, or a combination of any two of those three.  No changing was
permitted.  Presumably, any girl found transgressing would be expected to
commit ritual suicide by evisceration in the centre of the quadrangle.

   I remembered my other point.  "What about Type 'D' stains?" I said.

   "No!  Take more care!  No Type 'D'!  Too many differen' corrour!"

   One could see her point.  The introduction of a fourth type of stain,
with all its attendant permutations, would require a vast increase in the
number of colours of panties and plastic bins.  The girls would have to
conform to the system or face the consequences.

   But the loss of Type 'D' was going to upset some of our most loyal
customers.  I resolved to take the matter up with Smegs as soon as
possible. Apart from anything else, my own used panties defied such
classification.  At that very moment, I vowed to change to silk and join
Clit's rival scheme, along with Corinne.  True, the constant intimate
contact of my nether regions with silk panties would make me virtually
insatiable, but that wouldn't be the end of the world, after all.

   Would it?



   **********

   Smegs seemed excited about something.  She was supervising the sorting
of a whole week's output of underwear.  A small team of Second Form girls
was helping her.  I recognised some of their faces.  Well, not their faces
so much.  These were the girls who had been involved in the recent FatLite
and SuperLite trials.  I recognised them by their exuberant breasts. 
Having started from a much lower base than Anastasia, they had developed to
a much lesser extent, but there wasn't one of them who didn't need a
ScatBra.

   Not that they were wearing them.  Smegs's rules required her assistants
to be naked.  The team was a disturbing sight as it went quietly about its
duties.  Rumiko herself, looking simply magnificent without a stitch of
clothing, was sitting cross-legged on the dressing table with a small
computer balanced on her knees.  For the first time, I realised she wore
glasses.  From time to time, one of the younger girls brought her a piece
of paper and she would enter more data into the machine.

   Smegs, as supervisor, had chosen to be the final judge in difficult
cases.  A huge and growing pile of knickers was beside her on the bed, and
she slowly sifted through them, fondling, gently sniffing and occasionally
tasting with the tip of a pink tongue.  Smegs was enjoying her work.  As
she classified each pair, a girl would pass the information to Rumiko, but
it was noticeable that many panties went straight back on to the pile
again. Even in the five minutes I had been in the room, the pile of
unclassified undergarments had almost doubled in size.

   Smegs patted the bed beside her, and I sat down.  I was going to have
one of my headaches.  Panties always had that effect on me, especially in
such vast quantities.

   "A funny thing, Shan," she said, not breaking off from her routine. 
"Miss Rhys ap Llewelyn Owen came and saw me.  She hardly ever says anything
to me from one day to the next usually, but yesterday she came in and asked
if I wanted to be negotiator with Lord Ted's School Choir."

   "What did you say to her?"

   Smegs plucked an oddly heavy pair of knickers from the pile and raised
it to her nose.  A smile came to her face, the sort of involuntary smile
you normally get when you sniff a ripe nectarine.  "Whose do you think?"
She offered them to me.  There was actually steam rising from them!

   I hadn't a clue.  "Toria's?" I guessed.

   "Hey, you're improving!  You got it in one." She snatched them back from
me and inhaled deeply, her eyes watering.  "Bloody hell!  What does that
girl get up to?" She carefully placed them back on the incoming pile.

   "What about the choir job?"

   "Yes.  I said I would do it.  It's a chance to meet some boys, and
probably some teachers, too.  You never know, there might be something
worth having over there.  I'm going over there tomorrow evening.  Sit in on
a choir rehearsal, meet the lads, maybe fuck one or two ...  and back for
breakfast ...  that's the life, Shannie!" She took Victoria's knickers off
the heap again as if she couldn't really believe them.

   "What do you think of this system, Smegs?  Only six colours?"

   "Should be a good one.  It will speed things up no end."

   "What about the idea of classifying girls once and for all, though?"

   "No problem.  I've introduced an extra letterbox at each collection
station.  A big grey one twice the size of the others.  If a girl thinks
her panties don't quite fit her category, she can post hers in the grey box
and they will be hand-sorted.  Or nose sorted.  That's where I come in. 
The beauty of it is that I don't get to sniff all the boring ones.  The
only knickers that get into the grey boxes are the really interesting ones.
And the girls who produce those - the creative types, the free spirits -
are always going to use the grey boxes.  Well, *you* will, won't you?"

   "I suppose so, yes!"



   **********

   "Here you are, Pan.  Under this tree, where she said."

   Pansy lugged the two full tubs and slid them into the undergrowth.  Each
was clearly labelled, 'FatLite' and 'SuperLite'.  "They're bloody heavy,
Suze.  Why did I have to carry them both?"

   "You're always moaning.  Someone had to check to see that nobody was
watching.  You'd have come blundering out here and anyone could have
pinched the stuff as soon as we hid it."

   "Miss Meadowlark will never be able to carry both of those, Suze.  In
fact, with her boobs, she won't even be able to see them under there."

   "Oh, leave it out.  It's where she told us to hide them.  She'll be all
right.  I wonder who she wants them for.  I didn't think old Titlark was
bothered about making girls bigger."

   "Maybe it's a birthday surprise for Miss Gruntworthy," suggested Pansy.

   "Or Miss Mountains.  A nice pair of three metre tits might cheer her up,
the miserable sow." Suzanne prised the lid off one of the tubs and dipped a
finger into the soft cream.  "Want some, Pan?" she suddenly thrust her
finger towards her cousin's chest.

   "Don't you dare," Pansy screamed, and staggered back.

   "It won't hurt you!" Suzanne laughed.  "It doesn't work on its own.  You
could rub the whole tub into your tits and they'd stay the same size. 
Look!" She took a whole handful and slapped it against Pansy's shirt.

   Pansy began to sob.

   "Look what you've done.  Anything might happen now.  Look, it's soaking
into the material.  It feels all wet.  My boobs are all wet with it."

   "Oh, stop bitching!" Suzanne was bored with her cousin's whining. 
"Let's get back to the dorm.  You can change your shirt and we'll see how
much you've grown in five minutes."

   "You promised you'd never mess about with Sexual Chemistry," sobbed
Pansy.  "You know how dangerous this stuff is, especially if you've got big
tits to start with."

   Suzanne took her by the hand.  "Sorry, cousin.  Come on, let's go back.
It's starting to get cold out here."

   Corinne watched them go, then slipped out from behind the shelter of the
caretaker's shed and looked round in all directions.  Then she approached
the bushes and dragged the first tub out into the open.  She was surprised
to find the lid was lying loosely on top of the tub.  She reached into the
bushes again and found the second one.  That was securely sealed.

   Must be this one, she thought.  The girls wouldn't have left the top off
a tub of FatLite.  The other one must have been some old stuff they had
lying around.  There appeared to be no more tubs in the undergrowth,
although she saw two sticky labels on the ground.  One bore the word
'FatLite'.  The other was upside down.

   Corinne took another quick look round the deserted shrubbery, then
straightened up and set off back to the staff domestic quarters.  By the
time she reached the top of the stairs, the weight of the tub banging
against her leg had raised quite a sizeable bruise.

   With relief, she opened the wardrobe door and laid her burden down.  She
carefully covered it with two pairs of shoes and an old sweater, then,
breathing heavily, she lay down on the bed.



   **********

   "Which tub was this stuff, Suze?" Pansy inspected the spreading stain on
her blouse, then tossed it on the floor.  "It's made a mess of my blouse,
look.  And it soaked right through to my boobs!"

   "You should wear a bra, then it wouldn't have got near your boobs."

   "I never wear a bra in the evenings.  Nor do you!"

   What's that got to do with it?  I take mine off so I can feel them
bounce when I walk.  Yours hardly bounce at all, shrimp!"

   "Mine are sixty-four inches, Suzanne!  That's not 'shrimp' in anyone's
book!"

   "It is in mine," Suzanne muttered.

   "Which stuff was it, anyway?  I want to know if it's going to make my
tits get bigger."

   "I don't know which one it was," Suzanne admitted finally.

   "You don't know ...?  But I could finish up enormous!"

   "No you won't.  All that could happen is that your tits could get
lighter.  They won't get any bigger unless you rub the other stuff on top.
You'll be all right anyway.  There wasn't enough there to make any
difference.  Stop worrying!"

   "It's all very well for you to say that.  I feel funny.  All sort of
tingly."

   "Where, in your nipples?" Suzanne sat up and looked across with interest
at her topless cousin who was examining her twin peaks with a scared
expression.

   "No, in my ...  you know ...  down here." Pansy pointed down between her
legs.

   "Golly!  Lucky you!" Suzanne grinned at her.  "Well, before you start
playing with yourself, you've got to give me some of that Shona-milk."

   "What Shona-milk?"

   "The stuff you got from Shona to make the FatLite this afternoon."
Suzanne looked suddenly disgusted.  "Oh, come on, Pan, you didn't drink it
all?  You only needed half a pint for the FatLite!"

   Pansy blushed.  "I didn't get any from Shona.  She said she hadn't got
any left.  I think she was being awkward on purpose.  You should have asked
her yourself."

   "Fat lot of good that would have been," said Suzanne.  "She wouldn't
give me anything, the cowbag.  She's not even speaking to me.  That's why I
told you to get it."

   "Well, there isn't any.  I used cow's milk, from the common room jug."

   "Oh, great.  You really screwed up.  How many times have I told you not
to change the formula of these things?  Cow's milk!  There could be
anything in there.  It's supposed to be pure milk, straight from the girl!"

   "Well I used cow." Pansy sat and pouted.  "And sugar."

   "You put sugar in it as well?  Why?"

   "Shona-milk is sweeter than cow.  So I put half a cup of sugar in the
FatLite to make up for it.  It will be all right."

   "You hope so.  Anything might happen to your Miss Titlark as a result of
your negligence, you realise?  The poor woman might explode.  And it will
all be your fault, Pansy!"

   Pansy began to cry again.

   "Oh, shut up blubbing, for Chrissakes.  You'll have to get some milk
from Shona anyway.  We need it for Miss Meadowlark's experiment, to see if
we can turn her milk off.  So you'd better see Shona before she goes to
bed. Now!  I'm going to the bogs to wash my hair and everything."

   Pansy reluctantly climbed off the bed and made her way to Shona's bed,
her boobs wobbling.  They did feel tingly, although she hadn't dared
mention that to Suzanne.

   "Sho?"

   Shona peered over her book and glared at Pansy coldly.

   "What do you want?"

   "I wondered if I could have a little bit of milk, please.  We've run
out."

   "No!"

   "Oh, please, Sho!  It's only for me.  Not for Suze."

   "I don't care if it's for the Queen of the Fairies.  You're not having
any."

   Pansy stood glumly by Shona's bed, tears still trickling down her
cheeks. She sniffed loudly.

   "What's the matter this time?" Shona put her book down on the bed.

   "It's not for us, Sho.  It's for Miss Meadowlark.  She asked us if we
could make anything that would stop her giving so much milk.  That's why we
need some milk from you, to analyse it."

   "Would it work for me, too?"

   "It might.  It probably would."

   "How much do you need?"

   "Only a few drops.  A test tube full."

   "Come on then.  Where's your test tube?" Shona heaved one enormous udder
out of her nightshirt and presented the nipple to Pansy.  A droplet of milk
was already forming.  As Pansy watched, it trickled down the vast, bloated
surface of the girl's mammoth breast.  Pansy licked her lips, then without
realising what she was doing, she ducked her head and began to slurp hugely
on Shona's champagne cork-sized nipple.  It tasted incredible.

   "Oooh, Shona, Shona, Shona," she cried, gasping for air and slopping
mouthfuls of milk in all directions.  "Feed me, darling, fill me with your
sweet milk!  I love you, Shonaaaaaaa!"

   And Pansy hurled herself on to the bed mauling Shona's huge body with
both hands.  Shona was only human.  Starved of affection, she felt Pansy's
mouth on her nipple and her warm body pressed against her; their breasts
squashing together like mating dirigibles.  She held Pansy tenderly to her,
moaning and crooning comfortingly in the smaller girl's small and perfectly
formed ear.

   "Pansy, sweet Pansy.  Drink Shona's milk, my love!  Drink until you
burst!"

   Other girls, attracted by the noise and the arousing scene, gathered
round Shona's bed.  They were in plenty of time to see the big girl's face
contort in ecstasy as she came tumultuously, more or less the same time as
Pansy did.  Moans came from the other girls as they sought their own
glistening wetness with their eager fingers.  The more broadminded ones
sought the glistening wetness of the girl next to them.  Within minutes,
every one of the girls was writhing on the floor around Shona's creaking
bed, where Pansy and her luxuriantly lactating lover lay locked in lusty
embrace.  Every girl in the First Form dormitory, except Suzanne.  She was
otherwise engaged.









   Chapter 69:- All Will Be Revealed



   "Well, lover girl?  Did you get the milk?" Suzanne hissed fiercely at
her cousin.

   "Not exactly.  I sort of got carried away and drank it all."

   "All of it?  You pig.  There are gallons of the stuff in there."

   "I know.  I still feel full up now." Pansy's eyes went misty.  "We had a
great night, Suze.  Shona's pretty good!"

   "Oh, she's pretty good, is she?  Well, you should know.  You were making
enough noise to wake the whole school.  All night long.  None of us got any
sleep.  How many of you were in that bed?"

   "Four," admitted Pansy.  "Well, five.  Six some of the time, but mostly
just the five of us.  Until Concita was sick."

   "Oh, yuck.  You are really gross, you know that?  And you didn't even
get the milk you went for."

   "I got it all right.  I just got carried away.  As soon as Shona lobbed
her tits out and I saw those enormous nipples of hers.  I can only just get
one of those in my mouth.  I simply had to make love to her.  I think we
might get married and settle down when we're old enough."

   Suzanne stared at her cousin with amazement.  She shook her head slowly.

   "It must have been that stuff on my boobs.  It made me see the light,
and I saw I loved Shona."

   "It made you horny."

   "No, I love her.  And she loves me.  She said so, over and over again."

   "I heard her, the bloody moo!  Over and over again.  So we know what was
in that tub, anyway.  Love.  Or lust.  Miss Meadowlark is going to get the
shock of her life when she rubs that stuff on Miss Gruntworthy."

   "Oh, Suze, you think she's going to?  We've got to stop them."

   Suzanne looked thoughtful.  "We'd better not.  She might not want it for
Miss Gruntworthy at all.  It might be for something else.  No, let's just
keep quiet about it.  The Uncontrollable Horniness might evaporate if she
doesn't use it for a few days.  It was only because you used cow's milk and
sugar instead of Shona-milk."

   Pansy began to groan.

   "What's the matter?"

   "You mentioned Shona's name.  You said Shona-milk." Pansy blushed.  She
was breathing heavily.  "Whatever was in that stuff, it still works.  I
just came again."

   "God, you're disgusting, Pansy!  Just because someone mentions
Shona-milk ...!  Fucking Hell, there she goes again ...!"



   **********

   Smegs dropped in after breakfast.  "I'm off to Lord Ted's," she said,
excitedly.  She had doused herself liberally with some heady perfume that
made my head spin.  She was dressed wholly inappropriately for a
schoolteacher in stretch pants, an almost obscenely low-cut T-shirt and no
bra.

   "You look great, Smegs," I told her.

   Corinne was staring at her in amazement.  In her high heels, Smegs
towered well over six feet.  "Are you really going to go to a boys' school
dressed like that?" Corinne asked.

   "Why not?  The boys won't be tall enough to see down my front."

   "They can stand on each others' shoulders," muttered Corinne.

   "Not on each other's shoulders, Cee," I pointed out gently.  "One boy
can stand on another's shoulders, but they can't stand on each other's.  It
would be impossible." I noticed Corinne and Smegs staring at me
open-mouthed.  "What's the matter?" I said.

   "You're blathering, Shan," said Smegs, not too unkindly.  "Shut up!"

   I gathered up my bag of books with all the dignity I could muster. 
"I'll see you later, Cee," I said.  "Have a good day, Megan."



   **********

   "Could you help us with something, Miss, please?" Suzanne sounded at her
most polite.

   "Yes, darling, what is it?"

   "It's about milk, Miss."

   "MILK?"

   "How can we stop it?  If someone said they wanted their milk stopped,
how would they do it?"

   "They could try leaving a note out for the milkman."

   "Please don't be flippant, Miss." Pansy joined in.  "This is serious. 
If a girl had too much milk and it was embarrassing, she might want it
stopped.  It seemed to us that it would be a good use for Sexual Chemistry,
instead of all this tit expansion and lust and stuff."

   I felt a tear prick in my eye.  "Oh, Pansy, that's lovely, darling. 
This person with too much milk.  Is it, by any chance, anyone we know?"

   Pansy went suddenly quiet.  Suzanne chirped up.  "Oh, Miss, you guessed!
I knew you would.  It's someone we all know.  You could say one of us knows
her very well." A crafty expression came into her face.  Pansy had gone
crimson.

   "Well, I suggest you look in your textbooks, and see if you can find a
link between lactation and any particular chemical.  See what you can find
and tell me if you have any ideas.  I'll be here for you, okay?"

   "Thanks, Miss," said Suzanne.  She had followed me up to my desk.  She
dropped her voice.  "It's Shona, Miss.  Not anybody else." She appeared to
be trying to wink, but her mouth kept opening instead of her eye.

   "Is there something in your eye, Suzanne?"



   **********

   "You look fantastic, Cee," I whispered to her, my loins afire.

   "Thank you, dear!  Had a sexy morning?"

   "No, I just thought, when you walked in, I wanted to put my face up your
skirt and drink from your love-fountain."

   "Shannie, I can't hear a word you're saying with your head under my
skirt like that.  Come out and talk to me nicely."

   I emerged, hearing the everyday sounds of the restaurant washing around
us.  Girls chattered and giggled and snogged and made love all around us.
Nobody was taking any notice of two teachers getting off at their table.  I
took a forkful of dinner and offered it to Corinne.  She opened her mouth
in a most suggestive manner, then picked a clementine from the bowl of
fruit on the table and fed me a few segments one at a time.  I licked her
little fingers.  There were tiny damp patches around her nipples.

   "I have to work late tonight," I said regretfully.  "First Form have a
long-running experiment going, something to do with Fuck." My voice began
to fade away as Corinne's fingernail traced a pattern on the palm of my
hand.

   "I'll wait for you in bed, then, darling," she sighed.  "If you can hold
out that long."

   It was touch and go whether I would be able to hold out to the end of
lunch time.  I sat and looked helplessly at her, a tiny, fragile figure,
like a mere schoolgirl with her hair down around her shoulders and her
gigantic breasts resting on the table like beachballs half filled with
water.

   "I have to go, darling!" I stood up unsteadily and stood behind
Corinne's chair, then bent to kiss her face as she looked up.  She wrinkled
her nose delightfully at me.

   "See you later.  What time?"

   "I'll be done by nine."

   "You'll be done twice more by half past," she giggled.



   **********

   I was early.  I hurried back to the bedroom with a song on my lips.  I
don't know what the song was, but it probably wasn't 'God Save the Queen'.
There was the sound of a laugh as I opened the door.

   "Hi, Miss!" Anastasia, disturbingly half dressed, was kneeling astride
Corinne on the bed.  She looked back at me over her shoulder and Corinne
tried to peer past the girl's breast.  She failed.

   "That you, Shannie?" she called.  "Anastasia's just rubbing my boobs
with cream."

   I approached the bed and looked down into Corinne's face.  She grinned
up at me.  "You came home early.  Serves you right!" she said.

   "I suppose so.  Getting your own back for Saturday?"

   "Miss Meadowlark asked me to rub her boobies.  It's taking ever such a
lot of cream, Miss.  She's gigantic!"

   "What sort of cream is it?" I asked.

   "Just plain cream," Corinne said quickly, before Anastasia could say
anything.  "To make the skin of my breasts softer.  They're so full, I get
worried about getting stretch marks and stuff.  Don't forget to finish off
underneath them, Staze," she said.

   Staze, was it, now!  Friendly, or what?

   "There, Miss!" Anastasia clambered off, and stood beside the bed.  She
stroked Corinne's breast experimentally with the palm of her hand, and
Corinne shuddered.

   "Thanks, Anastasia.  Would you like to make us a cup of hot chocolate,
darling?  One for Miss Gruntworthy, too." Anastasia busied herself in the
kitchen and we heard the occasional crash as her boobs knocked cups flying
off the shelves.  "Wow, that feels so much better," Corinne sighed.  "She
has good hands.  You ought to get her to rub yours, too!"

   "Not me!  You never know what you're being rubbed with in this place. 
You sure it was just plain ordinary cream?  Where did you get it?"

   Corinne looked away.  "Oh, the girls from the First Form Sexual
Chemistry Group gave it to me, but it's only the plain cream that they use
as a base for the other exotic stuff.  There's nothing in it.  No active
ingredients at all." She was reaching for something under the bed.  "Fetch
my hankie from the dressing table, please, there's a love."

   I went and found her hankie, and Corinne moved around on the bed, making
herself comfortable.  Anastasia came back in, carefully carrying two mugs.
Because of her physique, she had to carry them at arms' length with her
arms out to the sides.  Once she had passed safely through the door, it
meant that she had to check on the mugs by looking from one to the other.
The result was that she only spilled them one at a time.

   "Will that be all, Miss?  I have to finish my homework."

   "Thank you, Anastasia.  Good night!" Corinne held her arms out to the
girl, who looked delighted and came over to receive a goodnight kiss.  I
gave her a cuddle and a quick kiss myself.  We broke off when Corinne
coughed politely and Anastasia removed her tongue from my mouth.

   "Good night, Anastasia."

   "Lovely girl," said Corinne.  "It's really useful having her next door
like this.  Good idea of yours, Shan.  Oh, the daft bitch forgot to bring
the bloody Hobnobs.  Shannie, be an angel ..."



   **********

   "If I drink any more of this, I'll need to get up in the middle of the
night for a piss."

   "Mmmmmmmmmm!" said Corinne contentedly.  "That feels so good, Shan.  All
warm and comforting.  Megan is a bit of a chewer, she doesn't suck like
you."

   "Funny thing, the First Form Sexual Chemistry Group girls were asking me
about stopping milk.  I've told them to get on and do the research. 
Suzanne said it was for someone that we all knew.  She said one of us knew
her rather well.  Shit, I thought she was talking about us, and I came over
all hot and cold."

   Corinne seemed to have gone a bit tense.

   "But it seems she was talking about Shona.  And Pansy was blushing.  I
think young Pansy is in love with Shona!"

   "The fickle bitch!  She was supposed to be in love with ME!"

   "If they do start cutting off the girls' milk, it will screw up my
latest brief from Moggie about logging all the details of lactating girls.
I'll be out of a job.  Oh, God, Moggie might put me in charge of those
yucky panties!

   "Don't you dare, Shannie!"

   We snuggled down in the warm bed for a while longer.

   "Have you seen Megan since this morning, Shan?"

   "Smegs?  No.  Strange, she's been gone all day.  She must have got a
result with that Gruffydd Lloyd-Jones."

   "Or half the boys' choir."

   "Or all the boys' choir."

   "Even the little ones with their nice haircuts?"

   "Yeah, why not?"

   "And the big basso profundos who shave twice a day?"

   "Oooh, yes, she'll enjoy those.  I hope she's all right, though. 
Imagine her being gang-raped by the Lord Ted's choir."

   "Megan?  Being gang-raped?"

   I considered it for a while.

   "Yes, you're right.  Smegs would gang-rape *them*."



   **********

   I didn't know what woke me up.  Suddenly I was wide awake.  Birds were
yelling their heads off outside, and the sun was shining.  I slipped out of
bed and went to the window.  The patch of grass in the middle of the quad
was glistening with gossamer cobwebs.  There was nobody about.  A cat slunk
across the empty quad and slithered into the entrance to the dorm.

   Obviously a cat going in search of its morning milk.

   I looked back at the bed, where Corinne slept, one arm lying outside the
covers.  There seemed to be a tub of some sort under the bed, on Corinne's
side.  Funny, I hadn't seen it before.  Silently, I crept over and dragged
the tub out into view.  There was no label on it.  It must be the plain
cream Anastasia had been rubbing on to Corinne's boobs last night.  I
pushed it back under the bed.  It felt nearly empty.

   "Oh, hello!" Corinne had opened her eyes and was looking at me from a
few inches away.

   "Hi, you!"

   "I must have slept like a log," she said, stretching.  A preoccupied
look crossed her face.  She stretched again, cautiously.  "Are you making a
cup of tea?" she asked suddenly.

   "If you like." I headed for the kitchen.  "It's a lovely morning out
there.  I'm almost tempted to go for a jog..."

   A nervous laugh came from the bedroom.

   "Or maybe a nice gentle walk ..." I switched on the kettle and came back
out into the bedroom.  Corinne quickly pulled the covers down over herself.
"Still a bit chilly, though.  Are you okay?"

   "Yes, fine.  Or maybe not.  I don't know really.  Maybe I'm a bit woozy.
I've felt this way sometimes since this milk started."

   The kettle boiled and switched itself off.  I made two mugs of tea and
took them into the bedroom.  I don't have Anastasia's balance problems, my
breasts hanging so low, and anyway, I carry both mugs in the same hand.  So
I saw Corinne again peering down into the bed.  She pulled the covers up to
her chin and looked at me in something like panic.

   "Here you are.  Sit up."

   "In a minute.  Put it on the bedside table for a second." She closed her
eyes and lay back, and I returned to the window with my mug.  The cat came
back out of the dormitory block and headed for the bra measuring facility.
A bit early to catch Clit and Flaps up and about, I thought, but no doubt
the cat knew best.

   "Shannie!" Corinne sounded strained somehow.

   "What's up?"

   "I think something's happened to me in the night.  Something dreadful.
Look!"

   I looked.  Corinne grasped the corner of the duvet and hesitated for a
moment.  Then, making a decision, she suddenly flung it back, and all was
revealed.









   Part XXIV









   Chapter 70:- Cause And Effect



   Anastasia heard my scream.  She came through from the kitchen, rubbing
her eyes and fumbling to tie the cord of her dressing gown.  "What's the
matter, Miss, did you spill your tea ...?"

   She bent to pick up my mug, tut-tutting at the spreading puddle of tea
on the carpet.

   "You're so clumsy, Miss, you need someone to clean up after you ... 
what's the matter ...?"

   Then she followed the direction of my gaze.  I was still frozen to the
spot, staring at Corinne where she lay unmoving in the bed with the duvet
flung back.

   "Shit, Miss!" Anastasia replaced my mug carefully on its side on the
floor, and crept closer to the bed, not daring to take her eyes off
Corinne. At last, she turned to me, her face filled with fear.  "What's
happened to her?"

   "It was the cream!" Corinne spoke for the first time since she had
revealed herself.

   "The cream, Miss?"

   "But you said it was plain cream, Cee."

   "I thought it was ...  oh, God!" Corinne bit down on her knuckle and
tried to turn over in bed.  She couldn't move.  On her back, she was
helpless as a sheep.

   I moved closer and stood next to Anastasia, looking down at Corinne. 
Anastasia stirred herself and went round to the other side of the bed. 
Presumably, the view was much the same from round there.  "What can we do,
Miss?"

   "I don't know.  Cee, can you sit up.  Here, let us help you."

   She allowed herself to be heaved into a more or less sitting position in
the bed, propped up with pillows.  From this new viewpoint, she could no
longer ignore what had happened to her.  "Oh, fucking hell, what have I
done?"

   "You've done nothing, have you?  It wasn't your fault, was it? 
Corinne?"

   "It was my fault," Anastasia suddenly cried.  She began to sob.  "I
rubbed the cream on.  I made it happen.  It must have been the way I rubbed
the cream on ..."

   Corinne held a hand out to touch Anastasia, but she couldn't reach.  Her
breast was in the way.  She looked at me helplessly.  "Shannie!"

   "Here, let me hold your hand." I found her fingers and held her tight.
"We need to get you out of bed and see if you can move with these things."

   "I need to get up anyway, to go to the loo." At least she was starting
to think straight.  Already, though, I was wondering if we would get her
through the door.  Her breasts were so enormously swollen.

   "Are you full of milk?" I asked her.

   Corinne thought about that for a while, then shook her head wonderingly.
"No.  I mean I normally would be at this time of the morning, but not
today. So it's not milk, then!"

   "Just as well, perhaps, you'd flood the building with that lot.  Come
on, Cee.  Let's help you up.  Staze, darling, come round this side and help
hold her up." Anastasia wiped her tears away and came round the bed, glad
of something to do.

   It was surprisingly easy in the end.  Corinne slid her legs over the
edge of the bed and felt for the floor with her feet.  I stepped away and
held one hand.  Anastasia disappeared somewhere behind her and apparently
took her other one.  "Where are you, Anastasia?" I said.

   "I'm round here, behind Miss Meadowlark," came a frightened little
voice. "It's only her boobies that have grown, Miss, the rest of her is the
same size as before."

   Even Corinne managed a scared little giggle at that.  I released her
hand and stood back.

   "Can you balance all right?" I was ready to dart forward and catch her
hand again.  She stood there, moving slightly.

   "It feels all right.  Funnily enough, they don't feel enormously heavy.
No heavier than before, really.  Just so fucking huge."

   She was right on that one.  Since her last spurt of growth, Corinne's
breasts without her bra had descended to just below the top of her thighs.
They used to swell out to the sides so that they were perhaps twice as wide
as her body.  Once gathered up in a bra, they were hoisted up higher and
squashed together.

   But now!  I had to try and take in the sheer size of them.  They hung a
little lower than before, but not a lot, only about mid-thigh length. 
Only! But then mine hung down that far without a bra.  There, though, the
similarity ended.  Corinne's breasts swelled out from the point where they
joined her chest, ballooning out to both sides.  Each of her breasts was
now fully three feet wide, and they were even wider nearer their lower
extremities.

   Her nipples were the same size as last night, although they were now
surrounded by areolae which had apparently grown or stretched to at least
six inches in diameter.  They used to be puffy and plump, now they seemed
tight as the skin of a drum.  Whereas my nipples pointed straight down at
the floor, Corinne's were higher and aimed only slightly below the
horizontal.

   Anastasia appeared from behind her.  She looked pale and worried and
snuggled against me when I held my arm out to hold her.  "What's happened,
Miss?  She's huge!"

   "It looks something like what happened to you, Anastasia, Miss
Meadowlark has grown much bigger, but no heavier.  That cream must have
been some kind of FatLite." I looked at Corinne and she confirmed with a
nod that her breasts were more or less the same weight as they had been.

   "It feels as if they're full of air, Shan.  They weigh next to nothing!
But ...  Wha-hay!" She had tried to take a step forward and encountered the
same problem that young Anastasia was only beginning to come to terms with.
Both her vastly enlarged breasts started to bounce with the slightest
motion.  One went up, the other went down, and they both went sideways. 
They went about eighteen different ways at once.S It took both hands and
several seconds to bring them under control.

   I offered her a hand.  "Let's see if you can walk, and we'll get you to
the toilet.  Open the door, Staze."

   Off we went, slowly at first, until we managed to find a rhythm at which
her breasts didn't threaten to take complete control of things.  We reached
the door, and I went through it ahead of her.  No trouble for me: without
my bra on, I can get through doors easily.

   From outside the door I could see the scale of the problem.  Each of
Corinne's breasts was much wider than the door frame.  "Will they squeeze
down narrow enough to go through there?" I asked, not very hopefully.

   She was already squeezing them, or the first of them, pushing in with
both hands on the springy mass of flesh.  As fast as she pushed inwards at
one side, it burst out at the other.  Eventually, she flattened the inside
of her right breast against the door frame, then pushed with both hands
against the outer side.

   "It's going," she said.  "It works quite well, actually, doing it this
way.  Look, there it goes!" her right breast slipped easily through the gap
and joined me outside the room.  "I'll have to get the other one out now, I
can't stay like this," she said.  It wasn't as easy, this one.  With one
breast already through the door, she wasn't able to twist herself quite so
much to push the other one through.  Anastasia, still in the room, had to
lend a hand.  Suddenly, she was through, Anastasia following her and
overbalancing into the corridor.

   I picked the girl up.

   "I'm okay, Miss," she giggled.  "I landed on something soft.  My tits!"

   "Wow!  Talk about a struggle.  If it's going to take two of us to help
you get through every doorway, we're not going to have an easy time of it."

   "You could use my room, Miss.  I've got an extra wide door."

   "Thanks, Anastasia, but we can get a wider door put on here in a few
days.  Or double doors, for preference." We set off down the corridor in a
stately procession.  "The loo doors are a bit wider," Corinne said,
although the cubicle is going to be a tight fit.  She was right about that.
We reversed her in and she sat down, but there was no way of closing the
door, so Anastasia and I took a brief stroll round the mercifully quiet
domestic block, working out ways of helping Corinne to move around the
school.

   "At least, they're not heavy, Miss.  If they were as heavy as they
should be for that size, it would take half a dozen girls just to carry her
boobs for her." She became serious.  "They're far too big for a
wheelbarrow, though, Miss.  She'll need two wheelbarrows, one for each
boob!"

   "Not a viable solution, I'm afraid.  Ask Shona.  It's hard enough
driving one wheelbarrow-load of tit.  Two would be impossible.  The trouble
is going to be getting her through doorways.  If she wears a bra of some
sort to stop them bouncing her off her feet, they'll never go through a
door of any size.  She can only get through doorways if she goes topless.
All right in the summer, but ..."

   We retrieved Corinne from the toilets and made it safely back to the
room again.  A discussion broke out.

   "She can get in through my door, Miss." Anastasia seemed keen on the
idea.

   "But then she'd either have to stay in your room or risk getting stuck
in the kitchen."

   "It's all right," Corinne protested, "I came out through here, I can get
back the same way."

   In the end, we had to do as Corinne suggested.  They were her boobs,
after all, and where they went, she was sure to follow.  We started the
whole doorway procedure in reverse, with Anastasia going through first and
helping push and squeeze in mostly the right directions.  Squeaks and
grunts echoed up and down the corridor.  The right breast finally plopped
inside.  I stood out in the corridor with her left one and half of Corinne.


   "Would it help if we covered her with something slippery?" Anastasia's
voice was faint from inside the bedroom.

   "What can you suggest?"

   "There's the cream we rubbed on her last night?"

   "No way are you rubbing any more of that on me," insisted Corinne.

   "How about butter?" I offered.

   "It would take whole packets of the stuff," objected Corinne.

   "It all very well you vetoing every idea," I snapped, and Corinne began
to cry.  Somewhere inside the bedroom, Anastasia was sobbing in sympathy. I
wasn't feeling too happy myself.

   "You can't leave me here like this," Corinne wailed.

   "We're not going to.  But you must have got bigger since we came out. 
We can't get this other tit through the door now.  No chance!"

   That was when I became aware of someone standing there watching the
whole messy business from behind me.

   "What seems to be the trouble, as if I couldn't guess?"

   Smegs!  Smegs always knows what to do!

   "Corinne is stuck in the doorway," I explained as succinctly as
possible.

   "I gathered that much," sighed Smegs.  "You could say I grasped that
within seconds.  And you can spare me the explanations about how she grew
to this absurd size ..."

   Corinne began to cry again.

   "Hang on," said Smegs, " don't go away, Cee."

   "Oh, har har har." Corinne was in one of her unpleasantly sarcastic
moods.  Much more of this and I would leave her where she was for the rest
of the day.  Smegs disappeared through Anastasia's bedroom door.  Shortly
afterwards, we heard her talking to Anastasia on the other side.

   "Eeeek, what the fuck's that?" Corinne shrieked.

   "It's all right," shouted Smegs, "it's only washing-up liquid.  It will
soon warm up.  And it's so kind and gentle to your hands.  Or your breasts.
Right, hold tight, here we go!"

   There was a burst of grunting and fluent cursing, and quite suddenly,
Corinne was standing next to me in the corridor, both her breasts on the
same side of the door.

   "Ouch," she said, rubbing her abused right breast ruefully.

   Smegs and Anastasia joined us.  "There you are," said Smegs.  "Problem
solved.  Any questions?"

   "Only one thing," I said.  "We were trying to get her in, not out."



   **********

   Poor Jeremy had a difficult task fitting the larger door and frame while
trying not to stare at Corinne, whom we had finally managed to insinuate
into the room with the help of half a bottle of lemon-flavoured Fairy
Liquid.

   It took us more than an hour to wash the sticky stuff off her breasts.
We sat her on a table in the middle of the room and attacked her with
sponges and buckets of clean water.  She never stopped complaining the
whole time.  We had to fit Anastasia up with a personal stereo in case she
learned any new and dreadful words.

   Smegs put up with the moaning and bitching for five minutes then made an
excuse and left.  Even I was getting pretty cheesed off with it, and I
finally had to let Anastasia get on with the job on her own while I went to
keep Jeremy company as he worked on the doorframe.

   Even despite one or two unavoidable minor delays for doggie-style
copulation on the floor of the corridor, the new door was in place by
midday.  Corinne was able to come and go - in and out of the bedroom
without let or hindrance - although admittedly not without touching both
sides of the doorway at once.

   Not that it stopped her complaints.  She had nothing to wear.  I pointed
out that she couldn't suddenly triple the size of her breasts and expect
all her old clothes to fit.  Out of the goodness of my heart I even called
Clit and she came over with a pile of stuff.  Obviously I had
underestimated Corinne's new size, because Clit had to go away, swearing
colourfully, and come back with a few tent-shaped and marquee-sized items.

   "I can't wear that," Corinne yelled, as Clit held up a vast maternity
dress.  "I'm not pregnant!  And look at the pattern.  All those purple
sunflowers."

   "They're hibiscus," Clit reassured her.  "And if you don't wear this,
you're in deep shit, nothing else fits.  You're outside our size range."

   Using language which made me blush for shame, Corinne draped the dress
over herself.  She looked like a Volkswagen Microbus from 1967.

   "It suits you," I told her bravely, and dodged the hail of missiles she
launched at me.

   Even Moggie came to see us.  Perhaps she was curious to see why none of
her teaching staff apart from Miss Rhys ap Llewelyn Owen had turned up to
work that morning.

   "Fucking Hell, Corinne," said Moggie with deep respect.  "Those things
are without exception the biggest fucking tits I have ever seen in my
fucking life."

   Corinne blushed prettily.

   "Get her measured, Chauntaille, and send a print off to the Sunday Smut.
With any luck, it will catch this week's edition.  Valuable publicity for
St Catherine's High School for Girls.  Hello Anastasia, you're looking
vast."

   Anastasia blushed prettily.

   "Are those things as heavy as they ought to be?" Moggie grasped the
nearer of Anastasia's boobs in both hands and hefted it experimentally,
bringing a startled yelp from the girl.  "Golly, they weigh nothing!  We
could grow you another five feet yet, dear.  See to it, Chauntaille,
please!"

   And off she swept.

   Smegs came back in.  "Was that Moggie just then?  Shit, I missed her.  I
wanted to tell her about the boys' choir.  But of course, I haven't even
told you yet, have I?  Anastasia, I just remembered, I left some papers in
the back of my car.  In the luggage compartment.  They're in a blue folder.
Would you mind fetching them for me, please?  Good girl!"

   Smegs sat down.

   "Now, where shall I start ...?"









   Chapter 71:- Love At First Sight



   "So how tall is he, Smegs?  This Eifion bloke.  You've told us
everything else about him."

   "Yes, everything else," said Corinne, sounding disapproving, "I bet he
wasn't even tall enough to see down your cleavage."

   "He was," Smegs thought about it for a while.  "Nearly.  He's about five
feet two.  But solid sinew and muscle.  A bit of fat round the middle.  And
wears glasses.  I think I'll let Miss Rhys ap Llewelyn Owen have him after
all."

   "Now you've seen what he can do ..."

   "And how quickly ..."

   "What about the boys in the choir?" I asked in desperation.  "They can't
be all as bad as Mr Gruffydd Lloyd-Jones."

   A half-smile played across Smegs's lips.  "No, some of them are quite
tasty.  Well, I didn't get home until this morning, so they can't have been
that bad, can they?"

   "No, I suppose not." Actually, that meant nothing.  Smegs had been so
horny, she would probably have spent the entire night at Lord Ted's even if
the only male there had been a nonogenarian with a flaccid two-inch weapon.

   "They invited me into the Senior Dorm."

   "What was it like?" Corinne moved too suddenly and one of her breasts
slid off the edge of the bed with ponderous grace and became wedged between
the bed and the wall.

   "Just a dorm, same as one of ours.  Beds down both sides, wardrobes and
stuff.  They all had pictures of girls stuck up all over the place, but
when I came in they started covering them up.  Strange."

   "Give me a hand with this tit, Smegs," I said.  I was on hands and knees
beside the bed, trying to lift Corinne's breast, but it had become firmly
stuck.

   "Hang on," she said.  "Crawl under it and lift it up on your back.  I'll
hold it steady.  Right, How's that?"

   Smegs always knows what to do.  She helped roll the enormous tit back on
to the bed next to its owner, who threw an arm round it.

   "Try and keep those things under control, Cee, please," I told her, "I'm
not picking them up again."

   "Sorry, Shannie!" At least, Corinne wasn't in her argumentative mood any
more.  To show how much I loved her I stuffed a pillow under her boob to
stop it getting away again.

   "What sort of girls?"

   "Hunh?" Smegs looked puzzled.  "These pictures of girls in the boys'
dorm?  What were they like?"

   "Just girls, you know?"

   "Big tits?"

   "Pretty big, some of them."

   "Big as yours?"

   "Some of them."

   "Big as mine?"

   "No!"

   "Big as Anastasia's?"

   "NO!  They were just girls, most of them.  Ordinary girls with little
flat breasts.  Like Pamela Anderson, that sort of thing."

   "Yuck, Smegs.  That's sick!  No wonder they tried to hide them from you.
It was a dorm full of perverts!"

   "Is that where you slept?" Corinne wanted to know.

   "It's where I spent the night.  Funny, the boys aren't like our girls at
all.  Most of them don't seem to sleep with each other, and there didn't
seem to be any other girls apart from me."

   "Like I told you.  A bunch of perverts.  I bet they spend every night
wanking.  Did they all wear thick glasses?"

   "Most of them, yes," Smegs admitted.  "Why?"

   "It affects your eyesight, doesn't it.  If you're a boy.  Did they have
hair on the palms of their hands?"

   "I don't know, it was dark."

   I bet Smegs didn't look.  It would be just like her not to look.

   The kitchen door opened and Anastasia came in.

   "Here's your folder, Miss.  Is it the right one?"

   Smegs took it without even looking at it.  "Yes, thanks, Anastasia."

   "We didn't hear you come in, Anastasia," Corinne said.  "And I'd have
thought you would have come in through the new door."

   "Oh, yes, Miss.  Sorry, Miss.  I forgot.  Force of habit, Miss."

   She was backing away toward the kitchen again, as if anxious about
something.

   "I'll get on with my project work, Miss, shall I?"

   "Good girl, Anastasia."

   "What's up with her?  She's acting strangely." Corinne looked at me
quizzically.  "As if she's guilty about something."

   "Shall I go and see what she's up to?"

   "Well, I certainly can't.  It would take me half an hour and two bottles
of Fairy Liquid to get through that kitchen.  Nah, leave her alone.  She's
probably just playing with herself in there."

   "She'll go blind," I said.

   "Or she'll grow hairs in all sorts of places," suggested Smegs.

   "Oh, no, she's doing that already."



   **********

   "Do you think it's true, what Megan said?" Corinne sipped her mug of
coffee and rested it on top of her right breast.  "Look!  These things do
come in useful, after all," she said.

   "You mean, did she sleep with half the Sixth Form at Lord Ted's. 
Probably, you know what she's like.  No discrimination at all."

   There was a tentative knock on the kitchen door.

   "Is that Anastasia?" Corinne looked at me in surprise.  "What's she
knocking for, she usually barges straight in.  Come in, Staze, darling!"

   Anastasia crept into the room, looking round her.  She seemed slightly
relieved about something.

   "Oh, good, Miss Mountains has gone, Miss.  I've got a problem, Miss
Gruntworthy."

   "What's the matter, love?  Trouble with your project work?  I'll come
and give you a hand." I drained my coffee and got up.

   "NO!  No, thank you, Miss.  It's not that."

   "Something more personal?  Is it something to do with your bottom bits,
your girls' things?"

   I have a sure touch when it comes to discussing delicate matters with
the girls.

   "No, Miss." She seemed to consider for a while then changed her mind. 
"Well, yes, actually.  In a way it is."

   Corinne handed me her empty mug, then lay back and closed her eyes. 
"I'm feeling tired, Shan.  Why don't you go in there and talk it over, you
two?"

   "NO!  No, Miss.  It's all right, honest.  It's nothing." Anastasia
started backing out again.  I followed her.

   "It's best to talk about these things.  Sometimes what can seem an
unsurmountable problem turns out to be nothing when you talk about it."

   Anastasia had backed up as far as the kitchen door.  She opened it and
reversed through.

   "There's no need to come in, Miss, really."

   "I'm only going to the kitchen to wash the mugs, Staze, what's the
matter?"

   She opened her bedroom door and started to squeeze through it backwards.

   "Ouch!" She had forgotten her enormous breasts.  Amazing how you can do
that sometimes.  She yanked the door open and shot into her bedroom,
slamming the door shut behind her.  All the crockery rattled on the
shelves.

   What a strange girl.



   **********

   Half an hour must have passed.  Corinne was sound asleep.  I had managed
to mark a whole pile of exercise books, which gave me a warm glow of
self-congratulation.  The last book was open on the table, and I skimmed
through the spidery, backward-sloping handwriting.

   The student rounded off a masterly essay on the role of the female
breast in foreplay with the words: 'But since I have been able to suck my
own nipples since I was eleven, I have not had personal need of a boy to
get me off by playingwith my tits.  Hence, the role of the female breast in
foreplay has been overrated in literature down the ages.'

   I awarded the work a B-minus, then changed it into a plus.  Then I
crossed that out and wrote 'C-minus, See Me, Rachel'.  And I closed the
book and dropped it on the pile.  Anastasia's face had appeared at the door
again.

   "Please, Miss.  I've still got a problem."

   "Come here, Anastasia.  Tell me about it."

   "There's this boy, Miss."

   A boy?  Things were looking up at St Cat's.  I tried to think when
Anastasia might have found the opportunity to meet a boy over the past week
or more.  I drew a blank.

   "A boy?  Where did you meet him?"

   "In the car park, Miss.  Downstairs."

   "You met a boy in the car park.  What happened?  You didn't do anything,
did you?  You didn't go into the woods or anything horrid like that?"

   "Gosh, Miss!  Of course not!  I brought him up to my room.  You said it
would be all right, didn't you?"

   "I suppose so.  But when did you meet him?  Is he nice?  Where did he
come from?"

   "This afternoon, Miss.  He's quite nice.  Well-spoken.  He came out of
the back of Miss Mountains's car, Miss."

   "He did what?"

   "He stowed away.  It was ever so romantic." Her eyes misted over.  She
wasn't wearing her glasses, I noticed.  "He climbed into the luggage boot
of Miss Mountains's car this morning, when she was leaving Lord Ted's. 
That's Lord Edward's, Miss.  He hid in the back, and closed the lid.  And
when I went down to get Miss Mountains's folder, I opened the lid and there
he was, all cramped up inside and blinking at the daylight.  And I fell in
love with him, Miss."

   "You did?"

   "Straight away, Miss.  At first sight, the way you do."

   The way I do, too, I thought.  Wow!  Anastasia the dark horse.

   "Has he gone now?  How did he get back to Lord Ted's?"

   "He hasn't gone.  He's still in my room.  That's the problem, Miss.  Or
part of it."

   "He can catch a bus, Anastasia.  There should be one at four o' clock.
Problem solved."

   "No it's not.  That's not the problem.  He can't do it, Miss."

   My blood ran cold.  "Can't do what, Anastasia?"

   "It, Miss.  He can't fuck.  He knows the word, 'cos I asked him,
although he went a bit red.  But when I told him to do it, he just lay
there.  That's the problem, Miss.  Can you show him how it's done?"

   "Me?"

   "Of course, Miss.  You know how, don't you?  You've done it before, 'cos
I watched you do it with Mr Jeremy.  You were doing it wrong, Pansy said,
but it looked all right from where I was standing."

   "Where were you standing, Anastasia?"

   "On a box outside the caretaker's shed, Miss.  We all took turns.  Only
I missed the best bit, 'cos I only saw the end, just before Mr Jeremy
collapsed.  Then when you started sucking his willie, it was the end of my
turn and Shona got on the box, and it broke 'cos she's so enormously heavy,
Miss.  So could you, please?"

   "What was the question again, Anastasia?"

   "Show him how to do it?"

   "I'd better have a word with this boy.  What's his name?"

   Anastasia shrugged.  "I dunno, I never asked him.  Is it important?"

   "If you fall madly in love with someone, darling, it helps if you know
their name.  It gives you something to shout as you come."

   "COME, Miss!  That's that word!  I've been trying to remember the word
all afternoon.  He didn't know it.  I wanted to tell him he had to do it to
me and come, but I couldn't remember the word at all.  If I go and tell him
now, do you think it will help him get over his problem, Miss?"

   "No, it may well be more deep-seated than that.  Come with me,
Anastasia, and we will all have a little chat.  Have you lost your
glasses?" I asked her as she cannoned into the edge of the door and backed
up for another approach.

   "I took them off, Miss.  They make me look like a nerd."



   **********

   He looked at me closely, without seeing.

   "Where are your glasses, boy?" I asked him.

   "In my pocket, over on the chair.  They make me look like a nerd, Miss."

   "Go get them, Anastasia, and put your own on, while you're at it. 
What's your name, boy?"

   Anastasia arrived with a spectacles case.  The two lovers looked at each
other and saw the whole truth for the first time.  They both looked quite
relieved.  They even smiled.

   "Vincent, Miss."

   "Vincent what?"

   "Vincent what nothing, Miss.  It's what Vincent.  Actually, it's Clark
Vincent."

   "Is that Clark Watt Vincent or Vincent Watt Clark?"

   "Not Watt, Miss."

   "Not what?"

   "Watt, Miss."

   "Ah, you mean it's Clark Vincent.  Or Vincent Clark?"

   "Yes, Miss."

   This boy was definitely Potential Army Officer Material.

   "Is Vincent your surname or is that Clark?"

   "Oh, I see, Miss." He grinned.  He looked almost intelligent when he
grinned.  "Vincent's my surname."

   "Well, Clark, this is Anastasia."

   "An-a-stays-ia," said Clark experimentally, reddening.

   "Hello, Clark!"

   "Hello, Anastasia!"

   We were getting on like a house on fire.  "Now you shake hands," I
prompted.  Just as well they hadn't consummated their union yet.  At least
it would be all right now they had been formally introduced.  They shook
hands, and Anastasia kissed Clark gently on the nose.  How sweet, I
thought. A personal touch.  If she adopted that course in later life, she
would be a popular girl.  Especially with those whopping great tits.

   Clark was looking from one of us to the other.  "Excuse me, Miss, but
you're not sisters by any chance, are you?"

   "No, Clark.  St Cat's isn't a convent.  I'm just plain ordinary Miss
Gruntworthy."

   "No, Miss.  You're not Anastasia's sister?"

   "Of course not.  I'm her teacher."

   "But you're both so ...  you've got such ..."

   Anastasia helped him out.  "Gigantic tits, Clark?"

   He went almost purple.  So did Anastasia.

   "Yes," the poor boy muttered.  "Gigantic."

   "It's just the way we are," I explained.  "Most of us are rather large,
here.  Now, has Anastasia told you what she wanted you to do?"

   "She called it fucking, Miss."

   "It's not the nicest word in the world, but that sums it up, yes, Clark.
Anastasia wants to make love to you.  You see, she fell in love with you at
first sight."

   "No shit!" Clark said, deeply impressed.

   "So she wants to go to bed with you."

   "Bloody Hell!" he said.

   I took his sweaty hand.  "But she can't, you see, because she's only
eleven, and you're how old?"

   "Fifteen, Miss.  She can't be eleven, not with those things ..."

   "And what are they called, Clark?"

   "Tits, Miss."

   "I'm afraid she is.  So you see, you can't go to bed and make love,
because you're not really old enough.  Sorry, old bean, but that's the way
it is."

   Anastasia was sobbing gently.

   Clark looked intensely relieved.

   "You'd better both get dressed.  Come in next door when you're ready to
go."

   I hurried out before I burst into tears myself.



   **********

   Corinne was awake.

   "Hi, lover," she said, and immediately felt for her breasts.  They were
still there.  Corinne sighed heavily.

   "Hi, yourself.  You ready for a major shock?  Anastasia had a boy in her
bed.  They're getting dressed now."

   She sat up suddenly, things rebounding in all directions.  "Help me up,"
she said.  I gave her a hand and she stood there in her Microbus dress.

   "A boy?"

   "Clark Vincent by name.  No doubt he had an impressionable mother.  Not
very bright, but a pretty boy.  I wonder, I still have some marking to do
tonight.  Could you take him back to Lord Ted's in a taxi?"

   "Sure, why not?  Lord Ted's?  How did he get here?"

   "All very romantic.  He stowed away in Smegs's car.  Anastasia found him
and fell in love at first sight, poor kid.  Nothing happened.  He couldn't
do it.  And I've told them it's all off.  She'll get over it, but Anastasia
may have spoiled him for life with those knockers of hers.  Aaah, here they
come ..."

   The lovers came in, holding hands pathetically.

   "Clark, come and meet Miss Meadowlark, who will be taking you home to
Lord Ted's in a taxi."

   "Hello Miss Meadowlark," they shook hands and he leaned forward and
tried to plant a little wet kiss on Corinne's nose.  He had further to
reach than he had anticipated, and toppled forward into Corinne's bosom. 
She looked at me wide-eyed as I smothered my giggles in a hankie.

   "Fucking hell," gasped Clark after Anastasia had helped to pull him back
on to his feet.  "Another one.  Yours must be the biggest tits in the whole
world, Miss!"

   Corinne blushed prettily.









   Chapter 72:- The Age Of Innocence



   "Hey, you guys, guess what!"

   "Shut the door, Goofy!"

   "Oh, belt up!"

   "Go away!"

   "Guess who I just saw in the car park!"

   Suzanne yawned and stretched herself.  "All right, Goof, who did you
just see?"

   The girl known as Goofy savoured her moment of fame and popularity. 
"You'll never guess," she said.  "They were getting into a taxi.  One of
those black London ones."

   "What does it matter what kind of taxi it was, Goof?"

   "Well it did, s'matter of fact.  'Cos she'd never have got into an
ordinary car, she's too big."

   "Who's too big?  Goof, spill it, will you, before I flatten you!"

   "It was Miss Meadowlark.  She's huge!" Goofy hurried on before the abuse
could break out again.  "She's much bigger than before.  You know how big
she was?"

   Pansy knew.  "You mean she's even bigger?" she asked urgently.

   "Big as a house.  She'd got this dress on, all purple flowers, like a
pregnant dress, but she wasn't pregnant.  This was all her tits!  You know
how wide those doors are on those black cabs.  She couldn't get her tits
through the door!"

   Gasps went up.  Goofy now had the full attention of the First Form
dormitory.

   "Miss Gruntworthy was there - I think she'd forgotten to put her bra on,
she was hanging right down to here somewhere - and she was pushing and
shoving, trying to get Miss Meadowlark's tits into the cab, but they
couldn't even get one in there.  In the end, they dragged her out again,
with the driver inside pushing her tit out of the cab with both hands."

   "Golly!"

   "And in the end, Miss Gruntworthy got in the cab and Miss Meadowlark
went back indoors.  She could only just get through the double doors.  Like
I say, she's really grown huge!"

   Suzanne and Pansy looked at each other with dawning horror.

   "But that's not the best bit," said Goofy.  "Guess who came out?"

   "Get on with it!"

   "Anastasia, and she had a BOY with her!"

   "A BOY?  What was he like?"

   "Taller than her.  But quite old.  He must have been fourteen, fifteen.
He'd got a Lord Edward's school blazer on.  Blue with red piping and a
badge on the pocket.  He was dead horny looking.  I'd have given him
one..."

   The other girls made allowances for the terminally virginal Goofy's
statement, the girl was obviously in an emotional state.

   "Anyway, he got in the cab with Miss Gruntworthy, and Anastasia snogged
him.  Then she went running indoors with her tits flopping and bouncing all
over the place ..."

   There was an angry growl from the audience.

   "...  and then the taxi drove off.  That was all."

   Goofy was surrounded by girls, eager for information about Anastasia,
the boy, and the new, larger Miss Meadowlark.

   Suzanne took Pansy to one side.  "You've made her grow, see?  It was
that cow's milk and sugar in the FatLite.  You made Miss Meadowlark grow.
I'm telling!"

   "You're not sure it was the FatLite.  It could have been anything. 
Anyway, we don't know she has grown.  You know what Goofy's like, she's
exaggerating again."

   "Well, we'll go and see Miss Meadowlark now, in her room." Suzanne
grabbed at her cousin's hand and hauled her out of the dorm.



   **********

   "Look at this door, Pan.  They've put a new door on.  It's wider than
the old one."

   "Let's see her, quick.  Before Miss Gruntworthy comes back from wherever
she's gone." She rapped on the door.  There was a pause before it opened.
Anastasia stood there, her eyes red and her face stained with tears.  She
gasped as she saw who the visitors were, and tried to close the door again.

   "Is Miss Meadowlark there?  We want to see her." Suzanne began to push
her way in, while Anastasia leaned on the door.  She was no match for
Suzanne and Pansy.  The door suddenly opened and the girls burst in.  They
looked around.  "Where is she?"

   Corinne edged herself round the kitchen door and made her way carefully
back into the room.

   "Suzanne, Pansy?  What can we do for you?  You know you're not allowed
up here, don't you."

   "Bleeding shit, Miss, look at your tits!"

   "Bloody Hell, Miss!  What happened?"

   Corinne smiled a private little smile.  "Happened, Suzanne?  Oh, I grew
a bit.  Possibly just another growth spurt.  I get them from time to time.
Now, what was it you wanted?"

   "Nothing, Miss." Pansy tugged at Suzanne's sleeve and retreated.  "It
wasn't anything.  C'mon Suze."

   "But you're huge, Miss!" Suzanne wasn't giving up.  Even as Pansy heaved
her bodily from the room, her heels dragging along on the carpet, she still
looked over her shoulder for an answer from Corinne.  She didn't get one.
The girls ended up in the corridor and Anastasia closed the door.

   "Wow, did you see her!"

   "Course I saw her.  It was the FatLite.  You fucked it up again, Pan!"

   Pansy went quiet as they walked along.  She had really done it this
time, and all for the sake of a hap'orth of tar, or a half-pint of
Shona-milk.  Thanks to her, Miss Meadowlark, wonderful Miss Meadowlark, was
inflated to the size of a Microbus.

   "Pan?"

   "What do you want?"

   "You know Anastasia?"

   "Course I know Anastasia.  Why do you always ask such stupid questions?"

   "You know she had a Lord Edward's boy?  They must have let her have a
boy in that room of hers.  Her!  Anastasia!  What right has she got to get
off with boys when we're locked up in this place?"

   "We're not locked up, Suze.  And we've got plenty of girls to talk to."

   "I'm not talking about talking to them.  You don't TALK to boys, Pan! 
You fuck them!"

   "We can fuck girls.  I did Shona last night."

   "It's not the same.  Not the same thing at all.  And that little
four-eyed squirt Anastasia is getting herself laid every night while we're
..."

   "You don't know she's getting herself laid, Suze.  She might have had a
boy in for tea.  It might be her brother, or anything!"

   "You don't snog your brother in a taxi, do you?"

   Pansy tried to imagine snogging her little brother in a taxi or
anywhere. "No," she said.

   "We're going to get fucked!" Suzanne said fiercely.

   "What?  Where?  How?  Who with?  When?"

   "As my Mum always says about boys.  There's no time like the present. 
And much as I don't like to copy Anastasia's ideas, she has a good one now
and again.  We can find all the boys we want.  At Lord Edward's!"

   "Suzanne!  We can't!  How would we get there?"

   "On the bus, how do you think?"

   "We can't just walk out and catch the bus.  We're eleven years old.  It
would be on television and everything.  We wouldn't get as far as the end
of the road."

   "Eleven?"

   "You know we are."

   "Nobody else would.  If we take our St Cat's uniforms off, we'd pass for
eighteen, easy.  Even you would with your little sixty-four inch titties!"

   "You mean we put ordinary clothes on and sneak out, then catch the bus
to Lord Ted's, just like that?"

   "You got it, Pan.  Great idea!"

   "But what do we do when we get there?"

   "We get fucked, of course.  Then we come home and tell the others!"



   **********

   I was home within the hour.

   "All safely delivered.  I handed him over to a teacher.  I thought he
was going to take him away and check him out for sexually transmitted
diseases.  I don't know where people get these ideas about St Cat's."

   "Perhaps it would have been better if you'd had time to dress properly
before you went out," suggested Corinne.

   "A pity, yes.  But by the time we'd got you back out of the cab, there
was a fiver on the meter already.  There wasn't time to come in and find a
bra and a decent top.  Does this one really look too sluttish, Cee?"

   "Not if it was dark.  Did they take you inside?"

   "Only into the lobby.  It was fairly dark in there.  Do you think I got
away with it?"

   "Probably.  What was the teacher like?"

   "I don't know.  I told you, he wouldn't come near me.  Scared, I
suppose. How's Anastasia taking it," I asked.

   "A bit weepy."

   "I'd better go and give her a cuddle.  The poor kid had really set her
heart on getting fucked.  Hot chocolate?  I'll make Anastasia one as well."

   "Suzanne and Pansy came.  I don't know what for.  Anastasia tried to
keep them out but they came in and stared at these things, then they left."

   "Did they look guilty?  About the cream?"

   "No more than usual.  They always look guilty to me, those two."

   "How are they?  Your breasts, I mean."

   "They don't feel any different really.  Except when they bash into
things or get stuck in taxis.  Shannie.  How am I ever going to go
anywhere? If I can't get them into a black cab, I'll never get them into a
car.  Or a train.  I'll be stuck here at St Cat's for ever and ever."

   "You could get into a van.  One with a sliding door.  We could take you
everywhere in a van."

   "Why not a truck," Corinne said bitterly.  "They could unload me with a
stacker truck.  Or just tip me off the back into the road."

   "We'll think of something.  Smegs will know what to do.  And you might
not always be as big as this.  They grew overnight, they could get smaller
again just as quickly."

   "Or they might get twice as big again tonight!"

   Why can't that girl look on the bright side now and again.



   **********

   Anastasia wasn't looking on the bright side.  I knocked on her door.

   "Oh, it's you, Miss.  What do you want?"

   "I made you a cup of cocoa.  May I come in?"

   She said nothing, but cleared a minimal space on her bedside table.

   "Didn't you like him, Miss?  Was he horrible?"

   "Who, Clark?  No, he wasn't horrible.  He seemed a nice enough boy.  We
had quite a little chat in the taxi.  He spoke very highly of you."

   Anastasia looked up with hope dawning on her face.  "What did he say?"

   "He said he hadn't really met any girls, but you were the nicest he had
ever met.  In fact, he said you were the only one he'd ever met, really. 
You frightened him a bit, getting him into bed.  You mustn't rush boys, you
know.  They need time to get used to it.  And you need to let them think
they lured YOU into bed, not the other way round."

   "That's daft, Miss.  Why?"

   I shrugged.  "It's just the way it is.  He said you've got fantastic
tits, too.  He thinks they must be the biggest in the world."

   "But they're not as big as yours, nor Miss Meadowlark's," Anastasia
said, blushing prettily, although she could hardly talk for giggling.  She
looked down at them.  "Are they*nearly* the biggest in the world, Miss? 
Are they *very* nice ones?"

   I hugged her and she snuggled against me.  "They could easily be the
biggest in the world one day.  And the nicest.  And lots of lovely
boyfriends will come along and fall in love with you."

   "Ooooh, Miss!  When will they all come along?  This week?  Now I've
nearly had Clark, I'd quite like to try some more.  I mean, I've got my own
room, it would be a shame to waste it."

   I sighed.  Girls did seem to grow up so early these days.  In some ways.

   "Perhaps one day you could have a few boys over for tea in your room. 
And Shona could come along.  Maybe Pansy and Suzanne."

   "Not those two, Miss.  They're horrible.  But Shona would love to.  It
would save having to buy extra milk.  And Toots could come as well, when
she starts at St Cat's." She was quiet for a moment, resting her head
against my breast and thigh.  Suddenly she sat up.  "Hey, Miss!  Toots
doesn't live very far away.  Couldn't she come along for the afternoon? 
Nigel could bring her over.  Nigel could collect the boys, too, so they
wouldn't need to hide in the backs of cars to get here.  Oh, Miss!  It's a
lovely idea.  The best you ever had!  When can we do it?  This Sunday?"



   **********

   "All sorted out?" said Corinne.  "Is our Anastasia happy now?"

   "Ecstatic.  Unfortunately, I may have mishandled the situation
slightly." I explained to Corinne, who was giggling long before the
punchline.

   "You've done it again, Shannie!  How are you going to wiggle out of this
one?"

   "Oh, it shouldn't be a problem, should it?  They'll only be next door.
Say six of them; Anastasia, Shona and Toots, and three boys from a good
school.  They can toast crumpets and have a pot of tea and play at being
grown-ups.  What possible trouble could they get up to?"

   Corinne sighed.  "No, I suppose you're right.  Just the six of them:
three girls with an average bust measurement of about a hundred and ten,
one of them spouting milk like a fountain; and three rampantly randy boys
who haven't seen a female for months; all crammed together in a room
fifteen feet by ten with a nice cosy open fireplace and a bed.  What
possible trouble could they get up to?  Go for it, Shannie!  Your best idea
yet."

   "Funny, that's just what Anastasia said."

   There was a knock and Smegs came in.

   "What plot are you two hatching between you?"

   "Oh, nothing," I said.  "Just a little tea party for some of the girls."

   "It will probably turn into an orgy if I know our lot.  Still, if it
keeps them off the streets.  Look, I'm just off out for the evening. 
Looking up an old friend."

   "What, dressed like that?" Corinne looked Smegs up and down.  From my
position on the floor at Corinne's feet, I couldn't quite see down Smegs's
cleavage, but I was familiar with the territory.

   "It looks all right, doesn't it?  Not too tarty?"

   Corinne looked slightly disapproving, as if she was Smegs's mother.  I
thought she was about to ground her for a month.

   "That skirt.  It's not yours, surely?"

   Smegs coloured slightly.  "No, I borrowed it from Sexy Amy.  It's not
too tight, is it?"

   "It looks great to me," I said.  It did, from down on the floor.

   "I hope you're wearing knickers, that's all," Corinne scolded.

   "She is," I said, "I can see them."

   "Of course I am," Smegs snapped.  "One has to set an example.  What
about the top?"

   "Is that Sexy Amy's too?"

   "No, hers are too loose on me now," Smegs said with regret.  "Pity,
she's got some nice ones."

   "She certainly has," I agreed enthusiastically.

   "This is my own top.  I altered it a bit, that's all.  It doesn't show
my nipples, does it?"

   "Not from down here, it doesn't."

   Smegs obligingly leaned forward.

   "Oooh, yes it does!  Gosh, Megan!  What's his name?"

   "I don't know.  I only met him last night.  But he looks old enough to
drink, so we're going out to a pub.  Then we'll just take it as it comes."

   "You always do, Smegs, you always do!"

   "I'll be off then.  See you when I see you."

   "Good luck!  Give him one for me."

   The door closed and we heard Smegs's footsteps clopping away to the top
of the stairs.

   "She looks an absolute slut," said Corinne in tones of outrage.  "A
schoolteacher, going out looking like a whore, with a schoolboy, too!"

   "Lucky bitch.  I suppose we'll hear all about it in the morning."

   Sometimes I think young Corinne is a little bit narrow-minded.  I
stroked her feet and nibbled her toenails for her and she wriggled her
toes. She seemed to enjoy that.  Unfortunately, I couldn't easily get at
the backs of her knees where she was sitting in the easy chair, as her
breasts hung down in the way.

   "Did Clit give you any idea when your bra might be ready?"

   "Maybe tomorrow, she said.  Although since it's the biggest she's ever
made, it might need a special fitting or two.  She kept saying we'd need
four inch wide shoulder straps and double heavy duty velcro fasteners.  I
couldn't get her to believe that they're no heavier than they used to be
yesterday.  Yesterday!  I feel as if I've always been this size."

   "No, don't say that, Cee.  We don't want the selective amnesia rearing
its head again."

   "No problem about that.  I can remember every detail.  I suppose I'll
get used to them in time.  The main disadvantage is that I can't make a cup
of hot chocolate.  They get in the way too much."

   I started to get up.  "I'll go and make it ..."

   "Get Anastasia to do it, Shannie.  Then come back and kiss my feet
again. It feels lovely when you do that!"

   Sounded all right by me.  I switched on the kettle then peeped into
Anastasia's room.  The lights were out and the mounded shape in the bed was
obviously sound asleep.

   I put Corinne's mug next to her hand on the table.  "Poor kid's sound
asleep.  She's had a busy day.  And she nearly got rid of her innocence."

   Corinne sighed as I took up my position again.

   "Yes, she's still got her innocence.  It's all we've got, some of us."









   Part XXV









   Chapter 73:- Love In A Cold Climate



   "We can't hide out here in the woods all night, Suze.  I'm freezing. 
Whose idea was this anyway?  My knees are turning blue and my nipples are
nearly dropping off."

   "Stop moaning.  I should have come on my own.  It would have been a
sight easier to find one boy than two.  We've had loads of boys go past on
their own that I could have had."

   "We could have had some of the others."

   "They were all in threes and fours.  We're looking for two."

   "There's hardly any now.  There were dozens before.  I bet they're all
indoors doing their homework and stuff.  Indoors in the warm."

   "Pan, look!  Two boys together.  Coming down the path."

   Pansy looked.  Two boys were indeed on their way down the path through
the woods.  Her stomach turned over.  She felt sick.

   "I don't think much of yours," said Suzanne.  "Let them get a bit
closer, then follow me."

   The boys approached.  They were walking quite slowly, unlike the others
earlier, who had been hurrying somewhere, walking with a purpose.  These
two were out for an evening stroll.

   "They're holding hands, Suze!"

   "So what?  Girls hold hands all the time."

   "Boys don't.  You never see boys holding hands."

   The boys stopped and looked around them, then stepped off the leafy path
into the shade of some bushes.  "Can you see them, Pan?"

   "No.  Where have they gone?"

   "Dunno.  They won't have gone far.  Let's go find them.  C'mon!"

   And before Pansy could protest, Suzanne was off like a long dog,
crashing through the undergrowth, on to the path toward the lights of the
school until a well-trodden patch of grass indicated where the boys had
left the pathway.  Pansy followed her cousin, although all she could see in
the gloom was the gleam of her skin-tight day-glow pants rippling with
every movement of her generous rump.  She wished she had worn a bra.  Her
breasts were rubbed raw against her tight sweater.  She cupped them to stop
them bouncing out of control, and collided with Suzanne who had stopped
dead in the middle of a clearing in the bushes.  The two girls lost their
balance and staggered across the muddy grass, ending up in an untidy heap
on the dewy ground.

   Pansy wanted to cry.  She could feel a big wet muddy patch on her
sweater, right across both tits.  Then she saw what it was that had caused
Suzanne to stop so suddenly.

   The boys were right in front of them.  One was standing.  The other was
kneeling in front of him.  At that very moment, the moon came out from
behind the scudding clouds and a ghastly blue glow lit the scene like a
spotlight.

   Both the boys gave a hoarse cry, and tried to scramble away through the
bushes.  One of them, the one who had been standing, had to keep stopping
to pull up his trousers.  Both cast panic-stricken looks over their
shoulders as if they were being pursued by all the devils in Hell.

   Nobody was pursuing anybody.

   "What were they doing, Suze?"

   "Dunno.  But you'd think if two pretty girls came out of the bushes,
they'd jump at the chance of a fuck, wouldn't you?"

   "Maybe they had to go and do their homework.  They seemed in a bit of a
hurry to get away."

   "I still didn't think much of yours," said Suzanne.

   "Which was mine?"

   "The one with the thick glasses."

   "They both had thick glasses." Pansy stepped forward to the scene of the
lovers' tryst.  She picked up a pair of glasses from the mud and held them
up to her eyes.  "No wonder he threw these away, I can't see a bloody thing
through them." And she hurled them as far as she could into the woods. 
"Come on, Suze, I don't think we'll find any more boys at this time of
night.  What time's the last bus?"

   The bell in the school clock tower began to strike the hour.

   "Oh, fuck it, Pan.  I think we just missed it.  We'd better run!"

   They set off at a lumbering, bouncing canter, until Suzanne stopped
again.  Despite her considerable advantage in size over her cousin, she had
much better brakes.

   "Look out!" she squeaked, and ducked back into the shadows.  "That car!
It's Miss Mountains's!"

   "What's she doing here, Suze?"

   "Fuck knows.  Maybe she's got a date.  Teachers like to fuck as well as
girls, you know.  Anyway.  She'll give us a lift back to Cat's."

   "We can't ask her.  She'll kill us!"

   "She won't know.  We'll ride in the back, where the luggage goes."

   "Is there room for us both in there?"

   "Yeah.  That space goes right forward.  You can get loads of stuff in
there.  It will be dark, but we'll get in all right.  C'mon!"

   The girls looked around to check that the coast was clear, then shimmied
across the car park to the back of Megan's car.  They looked around again.

   "You sure it's hers, Suze?"

   "Yeah.  She's got a personal number plate, MM60.  How do we get the lid
open?"

   Pansy pressed the button and the lid sprang open a few inches, then with
a resigned sort of sigh, it eased itself up almost to the vertical.  A
little light came on inside and the girls looked down in amazement.

   "What the fuck are YOU doing in there?"

   Anastasia blinked up at them and wiped her eyes.  In the light they
could see her uniform and her face were covered in dust and tears had dried
on her cheeks.

   "Where are we?  Is this St Cat's?"

   "Course not.  This is Lord Ted's.  What are you doing in there?"

   "I stowed away but I couldn't get out.  There's no handle on the inside
and the light goes off when you close the lid." She began to sob.

   The cousins looked down at poor wretched Anastasia.  Suzanne had been
ready to throttle her many a time since her breasts had become so vast, but
now, Anastasia looked tiny and helpless and utterly miserable.

   "Can we come in and join you, Staze?" asked Suzanne.  "Please?"

   Anastasia said nothing, but squeezed herself over to one side of the
luggage compartment.  Suzanne clambered over the edge and crawled into the
dusty space.

   "Leave room for me!" whimpered Pansy.

   The girls shifted around until Pansy could squeeze into a corner.  The
two cousins were on their backs, their heads toward the rear of the car,
while Anastasia was crouched facing the front.  There was no time to
rearrange themselves now.  Suzanne reached up and pulled the lid down on
top of them.  It was pitch dark and very cramped.  Nobody spoke for a very
long time.

   Faintly, the clock struck the quarter.

   "It feels as if we've been in here for hours," whispered Pansy.

   "I have," Anastasia moaned softly.

   "Poor Stazie!" Suzanne tried to touch Anastasia with her hand, but only
succeeded in poking her in the bottom.

   "Ouch, what did you do that for?"

   "Sorry!" Silence fell again, and stretched out for minutes.  "I am
sorry, Staze.  I've been rotten to you.  So has Pansy."

   "You speak for youself, Suze," said Pansy.  "You were rotten.  Just
because she got bigger tits than you!"

   "You were rotten, too.  You said she was a stuck-up little shit, always
sucking up to the teachers to get her own bedroom."

   "I did not.  That was you."

   "You agreed with me."

   "Did not!"

   "Did!"

   "Stop it, both of you," cried Anastasia.  "I'm sorry, too.  I acted like
a stuck-up little shit.  Friends?"

   "Friends," said Pansy, rubbing her hand across one of Anastasia's taut
buttocks in the dark.  Anastasia responded by gently cupping Pansy's knee.

   "Friends," said Suzanne, with a friendly hand up Anastasia's skirt. 
"Oooops, sorry, Staze!"

   "Oooh!  It's all right, you can leave it there if you like.  I s'pose
that's what friends are for."



   **********

   The girls must have dozed off.  The car rocked on its springs suddenly,
and a door slammed like a tomb.  Instantly wide awake, they waited for the
car to start and take them home.  They waited.

   There seemed to be a certain amount of movement going on, and rustling
noises from the passenger compartment.  There came the sound of low voices,
whispering.

   "What's going on?" hissed Suzanne.

   "Stop rocking the car, she'll get suspicious," muttered Pansy.

   "I'm not moving.  There isn't room in here to rock the car."

   "You are.  You're feeling Staze up!"

   "I know I am, but we're not moving.  She's all wet, too.  Aren't you,
Staze?"

   "Mmmmmmmmmm!  I'm sopping!  You're pretty good, Suzanne."

   "See, I told you!"

   "Well, who is rocking the car?"

   "I reckon it's her.  Miss Mountains.  She's fucking somebody."

   "I wish we could watch," said Anastasia, and the others silently echoed
her sentiments.

   Urgent little cries were filtering through the walls of their prison
cell now, recognisable as Miss Mountains's voice, and another, hoarse and
grunting.

   "She's got a boy in here," said Pansy.

   "Nice one, Pan, you want to try for the 64,000?"

   "Oooh, ooooh, oooooh ooooooh, yesssss!"

   "She likes it," said Suzanne, and Anastasia sniggered loudly.  "Shhhhh!"
Suzanne was beginning to feel aroused herself.  She ran her free hand
around the inside of the compartment until she found a spare finger.  It
wiggled.  "Who's that?"

   "Me!" said Pansy.

   "Oh, gross!  Where's Anastasia's face?" Suzanne sounded urgent.

   "Down here."

   "Can you get your head near my pussy, Staze?"

   "I can't see."

   "You don't need to see.  Use your imagination!" There was a certain
amount of shuffling around, and Suzanne suddenly shuddered.  "Ooooh, Staze,
yes.  Use your tongue!"

   "What are you two doing?" Pansy demanded.

   "Here, Pan," whispered Anastasia, "I've got a spare hand."

   "You'd better be quick.  Whose tit is this?"

   "Mine," said two voices.

   "Ooooooooooooooh!" said Miss Mountains, and the car began to buck
violently to and fro.  "Yes, yes YES, you BASTARD!!!!"

   "I thought she liked him a minute ago," giggled Suzanne.  "Oooh,
Anastasia, yes, again!"

   Another burst of rocking, and the howls and grunts and whimpers
redoubled, until the greatest simultaneous orgasm since records began
shattered the silence of the cloisters of Lord Edward's.

   "Fucking Hell," said Megan.

   "Fucking HELL!" agreed the three little girls in the luggage
compartment.

   They all lay quietly, exhausted.  Eventually, the car rocked gently, and
a door opened.  Soft voices murmured outside, and there was the sound of
kisses.  Then the door slammed with an air of finality, the engine started,
and there was the not altogether unpleasant sensation of movement in all
directions at the same time.

   And even after the car stopped, and the engine was switched off, and the
door slammed, and Miss Mountains's heels receded in the distance, none of
the girls spoke.

   "Well, home sweet home!" sighed Suzanne.

   "How do we get out of here?" asked Pansy.  "I need a piss."

   "Don't say that, Pan!" Anastasia groaned.  "So do I."

   "I think I'm too late," admitted Suzanne.  "Although I'm so wet, you'd
never know.  Anyway, we're here until the morning.  Either we try to sleep,
or ..."

   "Or what, Suze, darling?" Anastasia reached out with her tongue again.

   "Owowowow!" Pansy howled as Anastasia's fingers found their mark again.

   "Oh, bloody hell!" said Anastasia.

   It was a long night, but friends can always keep each other warm.



   **********

   "Did you hear Smegs come home last night?  Must have been midnight."

   "She was early, then.  She must have been unlucky.  Serve her right, the
slag."

   "That's not very nice, Cee!" I stretched.  "Coffee?"

   "Mmmm!  Please."

   "Christ, is that the time?" I sat up.  "Why couldn't Anastasia wake us
up?  We're late for breakfast and she'll be late for school!" I hurried out
into the kitchen and stabbed at the kettle switch.  "Come on, Staze, get
your arse out of bed!" I banged on her door.

   "Shannie!  Shannie, quick!"

   When Corinne says something like that, it chills my blood.

   "What's the matter?" I dashed out into the bedroom and stared at her. 
She was sitting up in bed with the covers thrown back.

   "Look at them!"

   Unnecessary Statement Of The Day, Number One.  I've mentioned before how
once a pair of breasts reaches a certain size, it takes a relatively large
increase to really make a difference.  I noticed the difference straight
away.

   "They're definitely smaller, Cee!"

   She got out of bed.  "They're the same weight," she said, hefting one of
them from underneath.  It was still huge, but certainly smaller than the
day before.  She could probably get out of the door without help this
morning.

   "What's happening?" I said.  "Do you think they're going back to the
size they were before?"

   "Pass."

   "You're sure they're just as heavy, Cee?"

   "Feel!"

   I felt.  They were.

   "Gosh!" I said.  The kettle came to the boil.  "Staze, wake up,
darling!" there was still no reply.

   Her little room was in darkness.  It was as well Corinne's breasts had
become smaller, otherwise she would never have been able to get through the
kitchen so easily when I screamed.  Her bed contained only a pile of
pillows and a mound of clothes.

   "She's gone, Cee!"









   Chapter 74:- Crime And Punishment



   It could have been far worse.  They could have suffocated.  Or the
police might have found them.  As it was, Smegs took her car into the town
that morning for a service, and before she left the service station, she
opened the lid of the luggage compartment to remove her briefcase.

   Fortunately, she had the presence of mind to lower the lid quickly and
move the car to the other side of the garage forecourt, where she could let
the girls climb out unobserved.  The only problem she had then was to get
the three kids back to St Cat's without attracting too much public
attention.  That was easier said than done.

   Anastasia was in her school uniform, but she was covered in dust.  The
dark skirt and blazer showerd every speck of dirt.  Her face was still
streaked with the tracks of last night's tears of frustration and fright.
But if Anastasia would have attracted unwelcome attention, the cousins
would have caused a civil disturbance.  Suzanne's day-glo shorts and
abbreviated top were plastered with dirt.  The shorts were heavily crumpled
and stained with a mixture of Suzanne's juices and Anastasia's saliva.  But
at least she had worn a bra.  Pansy's sweater had suffered a rip as she
scrambled into the back of the car, and it no longer covered her decently.
Her white knickers were covered in dusty hand-marks, and they were only too
visible beneath her micro-skirt.

   Smegs shoved the kids in the car and called a taxi.  And finally,
beneath the wooden gaze of the taxi driver, she and I covered the two
cousins in blankets, and shoo-ing Anastasia before us, we hurried to the
sanctuary of our room.

   The three girls were subdued, cold, thirsty and desperately tired.  At
least, they now seemed to be good friends, which was a blessed relief after
the reports of the previous day.  Smegs piled the cousins into her double
bed and Anastasia finally climbed into hers, but by then it was nearly
midday.

   We let them sleep until the middle of the afternoon, then brought them
into our room for a post-mortem.

   "I am not certain yet whether or not to tell Miss Thunderbolt about this
business," I warned them, and the girls hung their heads in triplicate
shame.  It was all I could do not to crack up and laugh at the sight of the
wretched and desolate trio, but I managed to put the fear of God up them
without losing my dignity.  Shona was summoned and brought the cousins'
uniforms, and the girls were finally back in the ranks of St Catherine's
High School for Girls as they trooped away.

   The whole story had come out.  I even learned the sordid details of the
goings-on in the back of the car, although those were not revealed until
Suzanne and Pansy had finally been despatched in disgrace to their
dormitory.  Then Anastasia haltingly told the story, not missing anything
out.  She even gave a passable impersonation of Smegs in the throes of
orgasm, which I recognised as being the whole truth and nothing but the
truth.

   "Oh, Anastasia!  How could you?  And after I had given you permission to
have a tea party in your room."

   "It was on the spur of the moment, Miss.  Miss Mountains said she was
going over to Lord Ted's, Miss.  And I just did it, same as Clark did." She
bit her lip.  "And I didn't even see him!  At least the other two SAW some
boys."

   "Well, yes!" I decided not to pursue the matter of what the other two
had seen.  Time enough for learning of such unpleasant matters when they
were several years older.  "You realise, darling, that you make it very
difficult now for me to allow any sort of tea party to go ahead?  Very
difficult indeed!"

   Anastasia nodded bleakly.

   "You aren't to be trusted, are you, Anastasia?"

   "No, Miss!"

   "Go to your room and stay there for the rest of the afternoon and
evening.  I will see you tomorrow."

   "Yes, Miss."



   **********

   "Honest, Cee!  I was nearly cracking up when they told me about the two
boys in the woods.  After they had been building up their hopes for so
long, two boys finally came along, and ...  oh shit!"

   "Serves them right, the horny little bitches.  I'd have given them a
good spanking!"

   "Gosh, Cee!  Would you really?" I thought about it for a while, but
reluctantly decided this was not the best time to ask her.  "And then, poor
little Staze.  She told me how she stowed away, without any idea how she
was going to get to see Clark even when she got to Lord Ted's, then she
couldn't get out of the luggage boot, and it was dark and cold.  And when
she did get rescued, who was it but her two mortal enemies!"

   "At least they made up their quarrel."

   "I gather they got very friendly.  I suppose they would, all piled in
together and Smegs howling away in the back seat.  It would have turned me
on, never mind three sex-starved kids.  It's a wonder nobody heard them."

   "Where is she?  Anastasia?"

   "In her room.  I nearly broke down and wept while I was telling her off.
She was so sorry for herself, and I had to tell her she can't have her tea
party ..."

   "You changed your mind?  Well, it was a good opportunity to do it, her
getting into trouble.  All's well that ends well, I suppose.  Least said,
soonest mended.  Worse things happen at sea.  You can't make an omelette
without breaking eggs."

   "I'm starving, Cee!  I missed my tea, bollocking those girls."

   "We could send out for a Chinese."

   "If you're feeling lustful, don't let me stand in your way, Cee,
darling. But I'd much rather eat.  What do you fancy?"

   "You mean before supper, or afterwards?"

   "Now!"

   "How about one of Wun Hung Lo's Banquets for Three Persons?" Corinne
grinned at me.

   "Three persons?  You starving or what?  Smegs is going out shagging
again tonight."

   "I know, but you're not seriously going to keep that poor kid in her
room all evening, are you?"

   One nice thing about the New Bigger Corinne, or even the New Slightly
Smaller Bigger Corinne, is that her Number One Hugs are now more like
Number Tens.



   **********

   A little crowd gathered round Suzanne's bed as she glumly slumped down.
Pansy, accompanying her cousin, sat on the floor gazing into space.

   "Where have you two been?" demanded Shona, acting as spokesgirl.

   "Out!"

   "I know that.  I brought your clothes over to Miss Meadowlark's room,
remember?  Wherever you two had been, you were dressed as sluts.  All last
night and most of the morning.  I don't know what Miss Thunderbolt will
say."

   "She doesn't know," said Suzanne sharply, regretting it immediately.

   "Ooooh!  Maybe somebody ought to tell her then."

   "Just you dare, lard-arse!"

   "You can talk.  With those day-glo shorts on you looked like a hot-air
balloon stuffed with suet dumplings."

   The other girls liked the imagery of that, and snickered.

   "You went out shagging," Shona accused them.  Pansy went crimson and
Shona moved in on the attack.  "Look, Pan's gone all red.  She knows."

   "We didn't," said Pansy.  "Leave us alone."

   "What's up?  Girls not good enough for you, now?  Did you find some
boys, then?"

   The audience waited, open-mouthed, for the answer.  When it came, it was
disappointing.

   "Fuck off," said Suzanne.  "We wouldn't tell you even if we did."

   "You wouldn't know what to do if you did find a boy," crowed Shona,
playing her ace.  "I bet you still think you have to sit on their faces!"

   The girls shrieked with laughter at the very idea, even those who hadn't
a clue how to do it anyway.

   "Huh!" said Suzanne, with a horrible feeling of doubt.

   Pansy looked up at her cousin with a troubled expression.  What heresy
was Shona suggesting?

   "Anyway, we did," muttered Suzanne, under her breath.

   "What?"

   "WE DID!  We found a boy.  Two.  One each.  We went into the woods with
them." Suzanne was telling the truth.  It put Shona on the defensive.  Her
lucky probe about sitting on boys' faces had been a chance shot in the
dark. She was convinced that she was doomed to perpetual virginity.  What
boy would ever want *her* to sit on his face.  He would be crushed to death
after first suffering nameless indignity.

   Suzanne sensed her advantage.  "Still, Pansy and I know what happened.
It's no business of yours, Sho-naaah!  So there!"

   "Where did you find these boys, then?  Boys don't hang around the woods
near St Cat's.  Not if they know what's good for them."

   Pansy replied, quick as a shot.  "We went to Lord Ted's."

   The girl known as Goofy mocked her.  "Lord Edward's?  You can't.  It's
out of bounds.  And it's miles away."

   "You wish it was your idea, Goof?" sneered Suzanne.  "After you saw
Staze's boyfriend yesterday?"

   "I told you it was her boyfriend," boasted Goofy, to nobody in
particular.

   "She told us there were loads of boys over there," Pansy was elaborating
dangerously.

   "She did not!" Shona was scornful.  "You're not even talking to each
other, since Anastasia got bigger *tits* than you!  And YOU!" she added, as
Suzanne opened her mouth.

   "We're talking now.  We forgave her," said Pansy.

   "And she was so grateful that she told her boyfriend to find us a couple
of boys to try out," Suzanne ended in triumph.  "Although we could have
found our own any time," she added as an afterthought.

   "Did you fuck them?" Shona had admitted defeat.

   "A couple of times, I suppose," admitted Pansy, airily.  "Maybe more."

   "They were asking if there were any more girls like us at St Cat's,"
said Suzanne.  "We said there might be!"

   "Girls like you, what do you mean?" The question came from the floor of
the meeting, and was endorsed by the whole circle of eager girls.

   "Small girls with huge tits, what do you think?  Boys love really small
girls with gigantic tits."

   Shona blushed and hung her head.  She had Brobdingnagian tits, but she
wasn't small by any stretch of the imagination.

   "So we said we'd probably be able to find a few, if they were really
serious.  Half a dozen of the bigger titted ones!"

   The girls inspected their own chests and each other's, then compared
themselves to Suzanne and Pansy.  They began to melt away back to their own
beds.

   Suzanne nudged Pansy and winked.  Her expression said it all.  'We're a
team.  Us and maybe Anastasia.'



   **********

   Anastasia studied Corinne and spoke through a mouthful of special fried
rice.

   "Have your boobies got smaller, Miss?"

   "Not smaller, Anastasia.  Just less big."

   Anastasia looked at her, mouthing the words 'less big' to herself.  We
were all sitting or reclining on the rug before the fire.  The last of the
banquet for three was slowly disappearing, but even Anastasia was beginning
to blow a bit.

   "Shall I make you a cup of tea?" she offered, and bounced away into the
kitchen.

   "I suppose it's not good for discipline," I said, "but I'd rather see
her happy like this."

   "Before we know where we are, you'll be letting her have her tea party
with boys!  No will-power, Gruntworthy, that's your trouble."

   "No, I suppose not.  If you were to invite me to your bed, I wouldn't
know how to refuse."

   "And if I were to order you to suck my nipples?"

   "Mm-mm!"

   "Wretched woman.  I think I will sleep alone for a change." She sat
quietly for a while.  "I wonder if my boobs will get any smaller tonight."

   "We'll have to wait and see.  Perhaps they'll get smaller and your milk
will come back.  I wouldn't mind."

   "It's been nice not having the milk today," she said wistfully.  "I
mean, it's great being suckled, and letting down and everything, but not
having to stuff tissues down my front was a nice change.  Thanks,
Anastasia," she said, accepting her mug.

   I patted the floor next to me and Anastasia curled up contentedly like
an overgrown puppy dog with her head on my thigh.  "Don't get too
comfortable down there, Missy, it's past your bedtime.  rTen minutes, no
more!"

   She was asleep in five minutes.

   Corinne and I carried on our conversation in low tones.

   "Does Chinese food make you horny?" she said suddenly.

   "All food makes me horny, dear."

   "No, seriously.  Is there something about Chinese food?  The rice, or
the MSG, or something?"

   "Well, there an awful lot of Chinese ..."

   "Shannie!  This last twenty minutes I have had the most amazing feeling.
Sort of warm and comfortable inside.  I want to make love for ever!"

   "Golly!  Steady on, old thing!"

   "It seems to be getting worse.  Or better, depending which way you look
at it.  I've been holding it in, but I want to be made love to. 
Desperately!  Now!"

   She was crawling closer to me, her fingers running up and down my inner
thigh, tracing spirals on the back of my knee.  A little drop of saliva
trickled from her mouth and her eyes had a look of heavy-lidded lust.  She
was flushed and her lips were full and moist.  From where I was , I could
only see one nipple, and in my estimation, it was fully erect.  Corinne was
hot.

   She had been hot before, but never like this.  I felt a bit out of my
depth.  I was supposed to be the one who called the shots round here.

   "Cee," I whispered.  "Not in front of the children!"

   "Put her to bed, quickly!"

   "I can't.  She's only just fallen asleep down here.  She'll need to go
to the loo before bedtime.  Leave her for now."

   "I can't last that long, Shannie, please!"

   "Cee, you can wait half an hour, surely?"

   "I can't wait half a minute, Shan!"

   A heavy breast had somehow flopped itself into my lap.  Unheeded, it was
sqashing itself against Anastasia's head.  She stirred but didn't wake up.

   "I thought those things weren't supposed to be heavy any more," I said
lightly.  "This one's nearly breaking my thigh."

   "Now you'll know what it's like carrying them around all day.  Kiss me,
Shan!" She leaned closer.  I could smell the scent of her, light and
flowery, but with a hint of wild animal about it.

   I allowed my lips to brush her cheek.  It was on fire.  "Have you got a
temperature, darling?  I think I've got a thermometer in my desk drawer
..."

   "I'm hot for you, Shannie.  Love me now!  Now!"

   "Oh, bloody hell, Cee.  There goes my mug.  Look out!  Tea spilled
across the carpet where Anastasia was lying.  It spread quickly to where
the girl's fat breast was compressed beneath her chest.  She sat up
quickly, pulling her soaked nightdress away from her boob.

   "Aaargh, look, Miss, what's this?" She pulled the nightie off over her
head and dropped it on the floor, then dabbed at her damp breast with a tea
towel.

   Corinne gave a low growl in her throat and started to crawl toward the
kid.  Anastasia saw the expression in Corinne's eyes and scooted backwards
on her bottom with a frightened yelp.

   "Stop her, Miss!"

   "Cee?  Come on!" I grabbed her arm and pulled her back, while Anastasia
scrambled to her feet.  Not taking her eyes off Corinne, she fled into the
kitchen and closed her bedroom door.

   "She's gone," said Corinne, numbly, looking round at me.  "What's
happening, Shan?  Hold me tight!"

   I needed no second invitation.  Corinne's pulse was racing, and she kept
giving little shivers as I hugged her to me.  Gradually, she calmed down in
my arms, and relaxed.

   What was going on?  The woman had been off her trolley for several
minutes.  Something seemed to have upset the whole workings of her body.

   At least she was asleep now.  I stirred the fire and prepared for a long
and uncomfortable night.









   Chapter 75:- Be Prepared



   Despite the intimacy of their night in the back of the car, the three
First Form girls were still unsure of their relationship.

   "Hi, Staze," said Suzanne warily.  "What are you working on this week?"

   "I was going to have another look at my Lube and Steam.  Unless you want
a hand with anything.  Like FatLite."

   "FatLite?" Pansy approached.  "What about FatLite?"

   "I rubbed a load on Miss Meadowlark the other night.  Now look at her."

   Suzanne looked around the lab then said casually.  "We meant to ask you
about that, since you are close to Miss Meadowlark.  Which tub did you rub
on her?  Both?"

   "What do you mean, both?  She only had one."

   "Two!"

   "One!  She brought it in with her one night."

   "I know, we mixed it for her and left it out specially under the bushes.
Two tubs.  FatLite and SuperLite."

   "She only had one," Anastasia insisted.

   She was so certain about it that Suzanne looked at Pansy with doubt on
her face.

   "We put two out for her, didn't we, Pan?"

   "You know we did.  I carried them both all the way out there."

   "Do you think one is still there, Pan?"

   "I don't know.  You'd better go and find out."

   Anastasia had thought of something else.  "You'd better find out which
one it was she had, as well.  It's having some strange effects.  Apart from
making her huge and light, she's got smaller since, and last night she
scared the shits out of me.  She was going to rape me.  I only just
escaped."

   "Miss Meadowlark was going to rape you?" said Pansy, sounding excited.

   "She crawled after me when I took my nightie off.  You should have see
her eyes.  Like a wild animal.  I ran away."

   "We'd better go and find that tub now, before Miss Gruntworthy arrives.
C'mon, Pan.  You coming, Staze?"

   "No, I'll wait here."

   The cousins were back in five minutes with a plastic tub.  Suzanne
dumped it on the bench.

   "There you are, look.  The top was off it, and it's full of rain water,
but it's the one I sploshed on Pansy's tits and it made her Uncontrollably
Horny.  She slept with Shona."

   "You did?" said Anastasia with interest.  "What is she like?"

   "Milky."

   "It made you horny, this one?  And the one, the other one I rubbed on
Miss Meadowlark, made her horny, too, after a couple of days, and it made
her tits gigantic first.  So which one is FatLite?"

   "Neither," said Pansy.  "FatLite doesn't make you grow.  It makes you
lighter.  You need SuperLite afterwards to make you grow."

   "You screwed up, Pan."

   "If you say that once more ...!"

   "You did.  You made it with cow's milk and sugar."

   "Did you?" Anastasia said.  "Why?"

   "I didn't have any Shona-milk." Pansy blushed at the memory.  "So I used
sugar and milk instead.  It's nearly the same.  It tastes the same!"

   "Whatever you did, it made it work all wrong.  You'd better throw it
away and start again." Anastasia picked up the rain-filled tub of cream and
swished it about doubtfully.

   "We can't make any more," Pansy said mournfully.  "No more Shona-milk."

   "We had an argument," Suzanne explained.  "It was about boys.  The boys
of Lord Edward's."

   "What about them?" said Anastasia.  "You never fucked any."

   "We saw some.  And Shona doesn't know we didn't fuck any.  I didn't lie
to her.  Did I, Pan?"

   "Not quite.  But she's still not going to give us any milk."

   "She'd give me some," said Anastasia.  "She's still my friend."

   "Wait a minute," Suzanne interjected.  "What do we want more milk for?
We don't need any more of the stuff, do we?"

   "It would be handy.  When it works properly, it works fine." Pansy
jerked a thumb at Anastasia.  "Look at Staze.  She's almost perfect."

   "What do you mean, 'almost'?"

   "Well, perfect, then.  You've got terrific boobs, Staze.  They could be
the biggest in the world one day."

   "That's what Clark said." Anastasia had gone all dewy-eyed and dreamy.

   "We don't want to hear about Clark," said Suzanne grumpily.  She sat and
stared at her exercise book for a minute.  "When can we go to Lord Ted's
again?  We can plan it properly next time."

   "We don't need to," said Anastasia.  "Lord Ted's can come to us!  I'm
having a tea-party.  In my room.  Would you like to come?"

   The cousins hesitated.

   "There'll be boys!"

   "When is it?"

   "Sunday.  Toots will be there, too, I hope.  Miss Gruntworthy said just
six of us, three girls and three boys, but if you two come, and we leave
out Shona, and have an extra boy, it won't be too crowded in there with
eight of us.  You'll come, then?"

   "Yeah!"

   "Good.  I'll tell Miss Gruntworthy when she comes in.  All we need to do
is arrange for Clark to bring three of his friends."

   "Gosh," said Suzanne, "just like that?"

   "Why not?  You only have to ask for these things, and they happen!"



   **********

   It had been a long night, but I finally got Corinne to bed at around 2
am, by which time the Uncontrollable Horniness had worn off her.  And the
following morning, her breasts were down another foot or so.  She was still
far bigger than her previous size, and miles bigger than me, but she looked
altogether more compact and transportable than before.  If she wanted, she
could now almost get both her boobs into one wheelbarrow, and going through
doors was no problem at all, provided the doors were wide enough.

   She still drew attention in the restaurant, but that was partly the
effect of the Microbus dress, which she still wore because nothing else
fitted her.  I wished Clit had found something less lurid, but apparently
there is no demand for it.

   I was late arriving at the lab for the First Form Sexual Chemistry Group
and the first period of the day.  It was touching and pleasant to see
Anastasia and the two cousins laughing and talking together.

   "Suze and Pan are coming to my tea-party on Sunday," Anastasia
announced, without warning.  "If I call Toots, Miss, would you phone Lord
Edward's and order Clark and three boys?"

   "WHAT?"

   She repeated her statement almost word for word.  She must have been
rehearsing it.  For some reason, I agreed, and Anastasia shot away to the
public call-box to speak to Toots, leaving me to get in touch with Lord
Edward's.

   The other girls watched her with their mouths open, probably wondering
how Anastasia managed to get her breasts to bounce like that.

   "About the four boys.  I'll have to go through Miss Mountains," I said
weakly.

   "Well, that's all right, then.  You can do it now, Miss," said Suzanne.
"She just walked in!"

   Smegs would know what to do.

   "This weekend?" she said.  "It's a bit short notice, isn't it?  Can't
she wait another week?"

   "Wait, Smegs?  Girls that age don't know the meaning of the word.  They
seriously want to get themselves laid."

   "By four boys?  Including Clark Vincent?  What sort of a name is Clark
Vincent, anyway?"

   "It's the name he's stuck with, Smegs.  I blame his mother.  Please,
Smegs!  Anastasia wants Clark, and if you can get three of his friends,
that way we'll be sure not to get three raving poofters, won't we!"

   "That's true.  Lord Ted's seems to be a school well blessed with more
than its share of irons."

   "Irons?"

   She rolled her eyes to the ceiling.  "Iron hooves, Shan.  Pooves. 
Poofters.  Queers.  All right." She sighed heavily.  "I'll phone straight
away.  There was someone I wanted to speak to over there anyway.  What
time's the party?"

   "Dunno.  Say two o' clock.  That will give them time for games before
tea."

   "Shan!  Are you fully aware of what you are letting yourself in for? 
They'll be playing games all right."

   "Good.  I'd thought of Scrabble or Monopoly."

   "I think we can just let them find their own amusements."

   Anastasia came bouncing back.  Those things bounced right up as high as
her shoulders and down as far as her tummy.  I'd have to have a word with
Clit about her bra.

   "Toots is coming," she squeaked, and the rest of the class looked round
at her.  They all nudged each other and giggled.  "She's getting Nigel to
bring her over at one o' clock." She came to a breathless halt, still
bouncing gently.  Eventually, Suzanne put both her hands out and steadied
them.

   Anastasia watched her with surprise.  "Wow, thanks Suze.  I'll do the
same for you one day." She looked at me.  "Did you get the boys yet?"

   "Not yet.  Miss Mountains is going to call Lord Edward's right away. 
She knows about Clark and she'll ask for him and his friends."

   "Oh, good.  Toots was asking about boys.  She said she could bring some
if I liked.  She said she could get ten or twenty, but she'd need to get a
bus.  I said no, I'd only got a small room."

   "That's right, Anastasia, twenty boys would be a bit of a crowd.  I hope
you thanked her nicely and said you would provide the boys."

   "Yes, Miss." Anastasia glowed with virtue.  "But she said Nigel could
collect the boys from Lord Ted's in Toots's car.  And he could take them
back when we'd finished with them."

   "How kind.  What do you think, Smegs?  Transport provided.  I think the
headmaster of Lord Edward's would be most pleased."

   "Perhaps it would be better if Professor Garibaldi didn't get involved,
Shan.  I will deal at a lower level, nearer the coal-face, the socio-sexual
interface."

   What on earth was she talking about?



   **********

   Anastasia was making a list.

   "Shall we get chef to make a special cake?" I said, "and you can have
trifle and ice cream and little sausage rolls and bits of cheese and
pineapple on sticks."

   She looked at me with horror.  "This is a grown-ups' party, Miss.  The
boys are going to be nearly fifteen.  We're not going to have time for cake
and stuff.  We'll be too busy fucking."

   Gulp.

   "They're boys, darling!  They'll expect to have food first.  That is,
they'll expect to have food.  They eat like pigs.  Like girls.  You'll need
lots of food for when you're not fuc ...  when you're not kissing and
cuddling and doing anything else."

   "You mean we can kiss and cuddle as well, Miss?" She flung her arms
around my neck and squashed her tits and lips against me.  "I love you,
Miss!  I thought we would only be allowed to eat and fuck, but we're
allowed to snog as well?  Golly.  I'm going to kiss Clark, and cuddle him,
too.  This is going to be ever such a fun party."

   "Good.  You can do a little bit of kissing and cuddling, but don't be
surprised if the boys just want to eat all the time.  That's why you need
cake and stuff.  I'll ask chef, okay?"

   "All right, Miss.  And if there's anything left over, we can clear it
all up after we've got rid of the boys.  I suppose they won't be allowed to
sleep over?"

   "No, they have to be at school on Monday morning, and so do you.  They
will want to get back and tell all their friends about it, same as you."

   "I suppose so.  Should we take my bed out to make more room, Miss?  We
could cover the floor with cushions and bean-bags and stuff."

   A good idea, I thought.  The presence of the bed had been worrying me.
It would put pressure on the kids to use it.  "Good idea, Staze.  We can
put it in the store room."

   "Oooh, fine, Miss!  Then we won't get juice and come all over it.  Is
that a real word, Miss?  Can you use the word 'come' as a noun, Miss, or is
it always a verb?"

   "That's a good question, dear, I think you can use it as either. 
Sometimes it's spelled 'cum', but it's better not to mess around with the
language like that.  It's difficult enough for foreigners as it is."

   Anastasia made a note in her English exercise book.  She's such a
conscientious girl.



   **********

   The dreadful girl had us out of our beds at seven o' clock on Sunday
morning.  I had to go and see the chef and see about the cake and the
buffet things.  He slung me out of his kitchen with a volley of ripe French
oaths.  I gathered that the food would be delivered in time for the arrival
of the guests, and that I would be well advised to leave him to slave over
his hot stove in peace.

   "Everything's going to be all right, Anastasia," I reported.  "Can I go
back to bed, now?" Corinne, I observed, was still tucked up cosily.

   "No, Miss.  I need you to help me choose my clothes.  I've got nothing
that's really nice enough for a party with boys." Her entire wardrobe was
laid out on her bed.  I had to watch while she tried on a selection of
ill-fitting and outgrown little-girl clothes.  She was becoming increasing
bad-tempered and fretful.

   "Put that lot away and get your jeans on.  We'll put your bed in the
store room, then you can go to the dorm and borrow some clothes from
Suzanne and Pansy." That got rid of her for an hour or more, and I crawled
back into bed with Corinne.

   "Your knees are cold," she complained.  "Get out."

   "Aren't you getting up?" I asked, fetching her a mug of coffee.

   She stretched, but kept the covers pulled well up to her chin.  She
looked comfortable, and somehow bigger than before.  "I thought I might
stay in bed all day," she drawled lazily.  rYou can bring me things from
time to time, if you like.  Little delicacies like food and drink.  Perhaps
one of Anastasia's boys, if there's one I fancy ..."



   **********

   Anastasia arrived back from the dorm at just before one o' clock.

   "You're wearing that?" Did I sound like a disapproving mother?

   "You like?" She paraded herself cautiously.  "The top belongs to
Suzanne, so it's only a little bit too small." Yeah, only a matter of about
fifteen inches.

   "What do you think of the pants?  They're Goofy's.  She hasn't dared
wear them yet." One could see Goofy's point in that.  I imagined that Goofy
was slimmer than Anastasia, as the pants were excruciatingly tight across
the rump and appallingly brief around the top of the loose-cut legs.  I
could easily have inserted the whole of my hand.  So could anyone else. 
The very thought made me shudder.

   "They look lovely, Anastasia, but I think Miss Mountains might prefer it
if you wore knickers underneath them."

   "I tried, Miss, but honestly, there wasn't room.  I'll be careful,
though, Miss.  I'll try not to leak too badly."

   That was possibly the most encouraging news I had heard all day.  The
arrival of Suzanne and Pansy soon put a damper on it.  Pansy was wearing
sort of stretchy pants which came down to her calves.  She must have grown
since she bought them.

   "I borrowed these from Goofy, Miss," she explained.  "She hasn't dared
wear them yet so I said I'd break them in for her." She was probably not
far off the mark.  They were almost exploding, but if they did split under
the pressure of too much Pansy, they wouldn't fly apart completely.  There
was too much of the material finding its way into various nooks and
crannies for that.  I tore my eyes away from her lower half and tried to
concentrate on the top.  My eyes glazed over by the time they reached her
bare navel, which she had decorated with what looked like a glace cherry.
God knew how she had stuck it there.  As a result, I barely noticed the
top, which hung from her quivering breasts like a pelmet.

   "Don't tell me, that's Goofy's, too?"

   "Silly, Miss!" Pansy's face was flushed with excitement.  "It's mine. 
It fitted before Christmas.  Can you believe it!"

   Suzanne, to my relief, was dressed conservatively.  Quite why she had
chosen a one-piece black swimsuit for a tea-party was another matter
entirely.  "It's Goofy's," she whispered to me.

   "I bet she's never dared to wear it."

   "No, Miss.  I don't know why.  It's ever so stretchy.  It nearly fits
even *my* bust!" She tucked a few curves away and I watched them pop out
elsewhere.  "It's not too tight round the arse, is it?"

   It was, but I hadn't the heart to tell her.  It would probably come off
later anyway, as she told me matter-of-factly.

   I backed out of the room, feeling faint.

   "They've surpassed themselves," said Corinne from the bed.  "I never
thought they could have looked even dirtier than they looked after a night
fingering each other in the back of Megan's car, but they have proved me
wholly wrong!"

   "We haven't seen Toots yet.  I shudder to think what she will be like."

   There was a polite pounding on the door.

   "Enter!" called Corinne in her most refined voice.

   "I come right up, Miss Gruntworthy," said Toots.  "I know de way.  I
sent Nigel arf to get de boys."

   She pranced into the room, and relief flooded into me.  Toots was
sheathed from neck to ankle in a purple knitted dress.  It clung to every
stupendous curve, yet revealed nothing.  Even her arms were covered, down
as far as her wrists, where she jangled with enormous metal bracelets.  On
her feet she wore high-heeled pumps which raised her to a towering four
feet nine or more, and she looked even taller with her hair piled on top of
her head.

   Her slightly slanted eyes sparkled at me.  "What you tink?  I bought it
special."

   "You look fantastic, Toots!"

   "Hey, tanks, Miss.  My dressmaker know what she doin'."

   "You'd better go through and meet the others.  You will probably make
quite an impression!"

   "I'd better get up and get dressed for the boys," sighed Corinne.  "The
only thing is, I'm just a little bit worried about whether I'll still be
able to squeeze into my Microbus dress!"

   "Cee?  What do you mean?"

   She rolled out of bed and stood up, naked.

   And I saw exactly what she meant.









   Part XXVI









   Chapter 76:- Now Is The Time For All Good Men To Come



   "Please, Miss?"

   It was the girl known to her friends as Goofy.  Knowing half the
contents of her wardrobe, I looked on her in a new light.  So this was the
Goofy who had purchased such an array of sexually explicit clothing which
she had never dared to wear.  I looked her up and down, from her curiously
straight hair and prominent teeth to her large splayed feet.  What lay in
between these outposts was of little note.

   "Yes, Goofy?"

   She blushed at being addressed thus by a member of the teaching staff.
One presumed she had another name.  "The girls' boys are here, Miss.  Down
below." It seemed that the expression 'down below' had some inner meaning
for her, because she turned almost incandescently scarlet.

   "Would you mind showing them up, Goofy, please?"

   "You mean, you want me to talk to them, Miss?" Her face registered stark
terror.

   "That will probably be necessary, Goofy.  Say to them, 'would you come
this way, please?'"

   "Would ...  you ...  come ...?" She repeated the words as if she was
committing them to memory, but she got no further than 'come' before
moaning like a sick sheep.  "Miss, I can't!"

   "They won't bite you, Goofy.  Just smile at them and ask them to walk
this way.  Tell you what, here's a secret.  Pick out the nicest one and
smile at him, forget the others."

   "Oh, Miss!" She was actually trembling.

   "Go on.  Just do it." I gave her hand a squeeze.  It was like a recently
deceased fish.

   A few minutes later, there was a polite knock, and there they were,
fronted by their spokesman and spiritual leader.

   "Hello, Clark," I said as brightly as possible.  He shook hands and
aimed a kiss at my nose.  It would probably take him some time to perfect
the technique, especially with fuller figured women.  At least he didn't
overbalance into my cleavage.

   Perhaps I ought to have worn a bra under my extra huge T-shirt.  All
four boys were gaping at me in sheer disbelief.  Clark looked me straight
in the nipples and introduced his three friends as Peregrine, Barnaby and
Augustine.

   "I do so hope we're not excessively premature, Miss Gruntworthy," Clark
said.

   "No, do come in.  This is Miss Meadowlark, whom you have met, Clark. 
Corinne, Clark you know, Peregrine, Barnaby and Augustine."

   "Jeezus!" she said, a little rudely, I thought.

   The four of them looked at Corinne in awe.  Evidently Clark had done his
best to describe Corinne and me as well as Anastasia, but in Corinne's
case, he had clearly fallen short.  Peregrine and Barnaby immediately
clutched at their groins in some haste, Augustine looked as if he had been
too late.

   Augustine was the easiest for me to identify, as he was black.  I know,
I know!  It is unfashionable to suggest such a thing, but when I am
confronted by three white boys and one black one, I find I can recognise
which one is black without remarking upon his hairstyle.  The other three,
the pink ones, could well have been interchangeable clones.  I suppose that
wouldn't matter once the action started next door.  They were in no hurry
to meet their hosts at the moment.  There was more than enough to feast
their eyes on in here.

   Ever since Corinne had got out of bed, I had been doing much the same
thing.  Feasting my eyes.  I know I have mentioned this before, but once a
woman's bust reaches a certain size, it requires a relatively large
increase for it to show.  Blah, blah.

   It showed.

   Corinne had just about squeezed herself into the Microbus dress, but it
was perilously tight across the bust, and the front had pulled up so far in
the process of accommodating her bosom that the material had wrapped
tightly beneath the taut curves of her bottom.  She looked impossibly huge.
She smiled at the boys, and I expected them to melt into four little pools
of blubber on the carpet.

   They nudged each other and Clark suddenly remembered something.  From
beneath his jacket he produced a neatly-wrapped parcel tied with an
elaborate bow of gold ribbon.

   "Some chocolates for you and Miss Gruntworthy," he said, with a little
inclination of the head, not taking his eyes off Corinne's breasts for a
second.

   "I suppose you will be wanting to see the girls," cooed Corinne.  "They
are all ready for you."

   There was a groan from one of the clones, and it was echoed and taken up
by the others.

   "Come this way, then, boys," I said, and opened the kitchen door before
knocking on the other one.  There was a sound like a stampede of chickens
on the other side of the door, then - with a waft of feminine fragrance -
it finally opened a few inches and one of Anastasia's breasts peeped out. I
suppose her face peeped out as well, but her breast was all I noticed, and
I was pretty sure the boys were right with me in that.  And either
Anastasia had grown a bit since I had seen her earlier, or Suzanne's loaned
top had lost some of its resilience.  Anastasia's nipple was inside the
top, but it was a close run thing.

   Her eyes widened as she took in the boys, her face reddening rapidly;
then she opened the door wide, and the eight of them confronted each other.
The boys were in their Lord Edward's School uniforms, with the optional
long trousers.  The girls were as previously specified.  Yet all eight of
the youngsters were immediately impressed.

   I could tell that much.

   I closed the door and collapsed into an armchair, with Corinne fanning
my face with a newspaper.



   **********

   "Would you like some cake?" Anastasia blurted, as soon as the door
closed.

   "Thank you, but we just had luncheon," said Clark.  "But later, perhaps,
it looks delicious."

   "Yes, okay," Anastasia mumbled.

   "I'd better introduce my friends: Augustine, this is Anastasia ..."

   "Suzanne," said Suzanne.

   "Pansy," said Pansy.

   "Toots!  Hey, I ain't havin' de token black one, you guys.  I fancy
*him*!" Toots indicated Peregrine, who turned several shades of pink at the
same time.  "What's your name, boy?"

   "Peregrine.  You can call me Perry."

   "C'mere, Perry, make yourself comfortable." And Toots did her best to
put her guest at his ease, somehow relieving him of his tie and jacket
within five seconds and dumping him on a bean-bag.  "I gotta get this dress
off, it will crease," she said.  Within a moment, it was neatly on a hanger
and Toots, in matching purple underwear, was astride Perry's loins and
stroking his chest in a manner which suggested that she was in no mood to
be denied.

   The other boys watched her performance with horror.  Who was next?

   The girls looked on with amazement at Toots's no-nonsense urgency.  They
were also staggered by her figure.  Seeing the little black girl undressed
for the first time was an experience.  She shone as if polished, as if she
had just emerged from a car-wash.  Seen from behind, which was the way
everyone was viewing her - apart from the fortunate Perry - her compact yet
somehow plump and immensely powerful buttocks tapered in to a
muscular-looking back.  But even her back view could do little to hide
those fantastic tits.  All twelve hooks of her workmanlike bra were
stretched to the limit as she slowly eased her weight down on to Perry's
boyhood.

   Pansy, turned on powerfully by the sight of Toots getting down to work,
surprised herself.  She took Augustine's hand without a word and led him to
a corner of the room by the window where she backed him against the wall,
pushed herself insistently against him and began rubbing her hands up and
down his chest inside his school blazer.  Predictably, Augustine found this
rather exciting.

   Clark saw his options being whittled away and immediately clung to
Anastasia.  Seeing himself now as a confirmed big-breast man, and
surrounded by four of the biggest busts he had ever seen in his short life,
he found himself hugging what was without a doubt and by a considerable
margin the biggest of the lot.

   Anastasia saw herself as a romantic.  The sort of girl who stowed away
in the luggage compartment of cars to be near her lover - who was the sort
of boy who stowed away in the luggage compartment of cars.  She clung to
Clark and they managed to exchange a kiss with only the faintest collision
of their glasses.

   All of which left Suzanne feeling outraged.  *She* was surely entitled
to first choice.  She was left with a nerd called Barnaby.  "Hello,
Suzanne," he piped, in an unbroken voice.  "Lovely weather we're having?"

   Suzanne tried to pull her swimsuit straps up tight to cover more of
herself, but there was really far too much of her to conceal.  Barnaby
watched her with growing embarrassment, feeling his erection becoming more
and more uncomfortable.  A quick glance around the room showed him Perry
with his head practically in Toots's mouth, Pansy apparently climbing up
Augustine's body and Clark getting on extremely intimate terms with
Anastasia.  Barnaby's erection changed its mind and lay down damply against
his inner thigh.

   Suzanne pouted and sat down to sulk in the middle of the floor.  As soon
as her bottom hit the cushions, both her breasts heaved violently upwards,
plopped out of the top of her swimsuit and lay in her lap.  They were far
too big to hide, so she buried her face in her hands instead.  Her breasts,
with no-one looking after them, rolled out of her lap to rest on the floor
on either side of her hips.

   Not in his wildest schoolboy silicone fantasies had Barnaby seen
anything even remotely approaching the size of Suzanne's escaping floppers.
His erection reported briefly for duty, then spent itself in ten seconds of
eye-wateringly spontaneous activity.  What felt to him like a gallon of
bodily fluid was oozing around in his underpants.  It was already starting
to freeze.

   "Oh, shit!" he muttered under his breath.  If he had not been such a
well brought-up boy, he would probably have said it out loud.

   He sighed, feeling appallingly sticky and uncomfortable, and wished he
could cry.  Over by the wall, Toots was now bucking and squirming
frantically on top of Perry.  Barnaby stared at them, fascinated, wondering
how his friend Perry had learned to do that so quickly.  Quite a dark
horse, Peregrine.

   Suzanne was watching them, too.  Toots and Perry were where the best of
the action was happening.  As Suzanne watched, she saw Toots raise her
weight from the boy's lap and whip her panties down over her well-rounded
rump with smooth, practised ease.  And in a single, sinuous movement, she
positioned herself above him, then sat down, carefully but very decisively.
Perry's arms and legs tensed, then relaxed, and after a few experimental
little bunny hops, Toots began an up and down movement which Suzanne found
almost hypnotic.

   Toots had done this before.  She knew exactly what she was doing. 
Realisation began to dawn on Suzanne.  All these months, she'd had entirely
the wrong idea about sex.  She felt her face become hot and she began to
cast her mind back, trying to remember how many times - and to how many of
her friends - she had insisted that fucking was all about sitting on a
boy's nose.  The answer, she realised with despair, was too many to count.
Suzanne would never be able to hold up her face in public again.  But
meanwhile, her fingers went in search of pleasure, and she found herself
juicy and ready.

   Ready for what?  All that was on offer was the appalling Barnaby.  She
looked up at him.  He was watching the sideshow, licking his lips with a
far-off expression.  He wasn't a bad-looking boy.  It occurred to Suzanne
that Barnaby was probably just as much a stranger to sex as she was
herself. She wondered if *he* knew how it was done.

   On an impulse, she reached out and touched his leg.  He jumped as if he
had been shot.  But when she smiled up at him, and invitingly patted the
cushion beside her, Barnaby sat down.

   He sat down as if lowering himself naked on to broken bottles, and he
could perhaps have sat a little closer; but it was a start, and when
Suzanne picked up her breast and loaded it back into her lap again, he
actually crept to within a ouple of feet of her.  Better than nothing,
thought Suzanne.  She took the boy's hand and together they watched a true
expert at work.

   They were just in time.

   Toots had made her selection with the aid of her vast experience.  She
had unerringly picked out the boy with the thickest cock.  If it had been
twice as thick, it would still have been an easy fit for Toots, but her
muscle control - renowned through three counties - saw her through.  Her
first aim was to finish Perry off, not so she could move on to another boy,
but so that he would last longer during the main event.

   Toots began to squeak with each thrust, a strange, unearthly sound which
drew the attention of all the occupants of the bedroom.  Perry cast off his
inhibitions and joined her with a syncopated bleating.  It was all
strangely embarrassing.  Mercifully, it didn't last too long.

   With a final lingering howl, Toots collapsed forward on top of Parry and
began showering his surprised face with burning kisses.  She whispered
little words in his ear which made him smirk stupidly and look oddly
pleased with himself.

   In that position, with Toots leaning forward like that, the other three
couples had a clear view of Perry's shaft buried almost to the hilt in the
girl.  Everything down there looked terribly sordid and hairy.  For the
boys, advanced biology had never been like this.  For the St Cat's girls,
this sort of thing was reserved for the Third Form Sex classes.  Probably
the most frequently asked question would have been 'What did it feel like -
did it hurt?'

   Pansy, in her turn, had picked up one or two pointers from watching
Toots, but she wasn't quite sure how to do it standing up.  "Do you want to
lie down, Augustine?" she murmured huskily.

   "Sure, why not?" Augustine was game for anything this lusty little girl
wanted.  He took her in his arms and guided her into the corner behind the
chest of drawers.  Pansy felt his hands roaming across her boobs.  His
hands slid down her sides and cupped her buttocks.  It felt reasonably
pleasant, until he lifted her and held her quivering body against his
hardness.  Her feet were off the floor!

   Things were not going quite as expected.  "Suze?"she whimpered, but
Augustine silenced her with a kiss.  Practising kissing with Anastasia had
never been like this.  Wow!  That part was!  A tongue probed into her
mouth. She thought of biting it, but her own tongue was having too much
fun, and her nipples were all tingly and her pussy was wet.  What the hell,
she thought.

   "Let's lie down, Augustine," she whispered softly, "grab some of those
cushions, I don't think Suzanne will miss them ..."



   **********

   Meanwhile, another couple were taking their first faltering steps.

   "Clark!"

   "Anastasia!"

   "Oooh, Clark!"

   "Ooooooh, Anastasia!"

   They had spent the past few days practising breathing each other's
names. Practice makes perfect, after all.

   "You have the most fantastic boo ...  ti ...  breasts, Anastasia!"

   Breasts!  He called them breasts.  My breasts!  It felt so ...  so grown
up.

   "They are the biggest I have ever seen."

   "Do you really want to see them, Clark?  They are even bigger, naked!"

   "Oh, Anastasia!"

   "Oh, Clark!  Lie down with me on this bean-bag."

   They lay side by side - at a distance dictated by the sheer volume of
Anastasia's breasts - and Clark eventually found his short-sighted way into
Anastasia's bursting top.  Meanwhile, Anastasia, intent on doing things
according to her very own script, found her nimble-fingered way into
Clark's grey school flannel trousers.  Her hand emerged clutching its
prize. Then driven by some primitive urge, she opened her mouth wide and
took him into her.  It tasted a little like cheese, she thought.



   **********

   Suzanne gazed at Barnaby.  Barnaby squeezed her hand for the fortieth
time.

   "That cheesecake looks nice," he said.  "Would you like a slice?"



   **********

   "They're terribly quiet, Cee!"

   "Probably playing Monopoly."

   "As soon as I finish sewing this panel, I'm going to have a peep at
them, the little darlings."

   "Don't you dare move from this room until you've finished both sides,
you ratbag.  This is the only dress that fits me.  Until it's back
together, you're not going anywhere!"

   I began to wish I hadn't volunteered to sew extra panels into the sides
of the Microbus dress.  At a pinch, Corinne could have worn it tomorrow. 
But once we had started, we had to finish.

   It was another hour before it was all together in one piece and Corinne
was able to put it back on.  It fitted as if she was made to measure for
it.

   "You look stunning, Cee!"

   "Thanks to you, dear." She kissed me wetly.  "You can go and spy on the
kiddywinks now, darling!  And make me a cup of coffee.  I'll never get
through that doorway."

   I sneaked to Anastasia's door and turned the handle silently.  Then I
hesitated.  What if they were playing Monopoly?  What if I opened the door
and found them all sitting looking up at me?  Should I knock?  Yes!

   I knocked silently.  There was no voice inviting me to come in.  I
turned the handle and eased the door open.

   A scene from an ancient Roman orgy was being played out before me.  It
was impossible to take in all at once.  It seared itself on to my mind in a
succession of fleeting images.  Over in the corner, a black boy's unclothed
bottom was plunging up and down in an unmistakeable action.  Augustine, I
surmised.  Somewhere beneath him, I could only assume, was a girl.  But
which one?

   A quick stock-check revealed Toots, startlingly, wonderfully and
spectacularly naked, riding another boy.  She was on top and facing toward
his knees.  Strange how little pictures stick in the mind.  Toots's purple
dress was dangling on its hanger, swaying gently to the rhythm of its
owner's thrusting.

   Over by the other wall, on her hands and knees, was Anastasia, chewing
her lower lip, her breasts actually reaching to the floor.  Clark - wearing
his glasses, I was pleased to observe - was inside her up to the hilt.  His
balls slapped against her rump at every enthusiastic stroke.  That's my
girl, Anastasia, I thought, already discovering the mutual joys of doing it
doggie-style.

   And in the middle of the floor, her eyes glazed, sat Suzanne, her
swimsuit top pulled down from her shoulders and her breasts lying massively
in her lap.  Barnaby was sitting quite close to her, reading aloud to her
from a Science textbook.

   The air was heavy with the musk of sex.

   I closed the door, making a mental note that by a process of
elimination, the first girl, the one being most heartily rodgered by
Augustine, must be Pansy.  Poor old Pansy, I thought: Augustine's bottom
had seemed to be rising and falling at least nine inches.  It was true,
what people sometimes said.

   "How are they doing?" asked Corinne.

   "Quite well," I answered faintly.  "All except for Suzanne.  She seems
to have drawn the short straw."









   Chapter 77:- It's My Party And I'll Cry If I Want To



   "I'm not going back in there, Cee!  It's too dreadful to contemplate."

   "You have to.  I can't get my tits through the door."

   "I wonder if Smegs ..."

   "No, she went out earlier.  I heard her car leaving."

   "It's all her fault.  She arranged for the boys ..."

   "Only because you told her to.  You have to stop them.  Go in, cough
politely and tell them it's time they had their tea."

   "I can't see that being too popular, Cee."

   "No, nor can I.  But you can't have them screwing the whole afternoon
away.  What about when they get pregnant?"

   "Cee, no!  Surely they aren't old enough?"

   "They're certainly more than big enough.  Do you know if they've started
their periods yet?"

   "Nurse would know."

   "Oh, sure.  Go and find Nurse on a Sunday afternoon.  Tell her there are
four Junior girls ..."

   "Three ...!"

   "...  three Junior girls getting fucked in one of the bedrooms in the
staff quarters and please, can you tell me if they have started
menstruating yet?  Shannie, get your arse in there and shout at them.  Blow
a whistle.  Clap."

   "Clap?  Don't even mention that word!"

   "Let's just hope they've had the sense to use some protection."

   "At least, Suzanne hasn't needed any.  She's found a true gentleman. 
Poor Suzanne!"

   "Get in there, Shan, or I will never speak to you again!"

   "I'm going, I'm going!"



   **********

   I knocked softly on the door.  Anastasia's voice said, "come in Miss
Gruntworthy."

   Swallowing the lump in my throat, I cautiously pushed the door open and
gasped at the scene spread out before me.

   Pansy and Augustine were sitting side by side in the corner, sharing a
large slice of cheesecake with two forks.  They were feeding each other,
the way lovers do.

   Anastasia moved amongst the others, handing out plates of pastries and
cakes.  The others thanked her politely.  Where was Clark?  He looked
subdued, exhausted, even, but he was eating a chunk of apple pie, smothered
in suggestive-looking whipped cream.

   Toots and Peregrine were playing cards, a simple game involving slapping
cards down and grabbing at the pile.

   Suzanne was demonstrating to Barnaby how to make a cat's cradle.  The
string had slipped off two of her fingers and she was giggling as he tried
to loop it back into position for her.

   All of the children were fully dressed, at least, as decently dressed as
when they had arrived.  Correction: Toots was wrapped in one of Anastasia's
largest T-shirts.

   It was no more than five minutes since my previous visit.  I rubbed my
eyes and gasped again.  Anastasia brought me a slice of cake.  "Take one
for Miss Meadowlark, as well, Miss.  It's really tasty!"

   I sniffed the air.  There was just a hint of fishiness, but that could
have been the plate of salmon, cucmber and mayonnaise sandwiches.  Someone
had opened the window, probably Pansy, the nearest.  Her nipples, I
noticed, were like clothes pegs beneath her straining cut-off top.

   So, too, were Toots's, except that hers were more like wine corks.  She
wasn't wearing a bra under Anastasia's T-shirt.

   Anastasia, too, was obviously feeling the effect of the cool breeze. 
That low-cut, scoop-necked top belonging to Suzanne was practically
splitting in two strategic places.

   Suzanne's nipples, as far as I could tell, were in a state of
non-arousal.

   There was a waste-bucket by the door.  I looked into it, then did a
double-take.  Along with what seemed like the contents of a family
economy-sized pack of Kleenex lay a dribbling heap of rubberware in a
variety of designs.

   Anastasia noticed the direction of my gaze.  "We'll throw them all out
later, Miss, when we're finished.  Unless you think Miss Mountains might
want them for any reason."

   "No, dear, I think Miss Mountains prefers to use a new one each time."

   Carrying my two slices of cake, I backed out of the room.



   **********

   "She won't be back for ages," said Pansy, shrugging out of her clothes.
She was ready for action in seconds.  "You ready, Oggie, or you fancy a
change of scene?"

   "I'll sit this one out," said Augustine, most sportingly, "who wants
Pan?"

   "Me, please!" offered Perry.  "If that's all right with you, Toots?"

   "Sure, baby.  If Anastasia can spare Clark for a bit?"

   "No problem.  Come back to me later, sweetiepops, please?"

   "Of course I will, honeybunch!"

   Anastasia looked around and her eyes lit up.  "Barnaby, come and have a
go with me," she whispered seductively, and Barnaby blushed, but got up and
accompanied Anastasia to her own pile of beanbags and cushions.  "My little
pussy's a bit sore, but you can slip it in here!" She indicated her
daunting cleavage.

   There was a quick, urgent rustling as clothes were discarded.  "Darling,
your pants are all soaked," Anastasia cooed.  "What *have* you been doing?"

   "Nothing!" Barnaby insisted quite truthfully.

   Augustine sat next to Suzanne.

   "You've got that string in a real tangle, Suze," he said helpfully. 
"Let me give you a hand!"

   Within a minute, Pansy was lowering her fragrant and still-sopping
snatch on to Peregrine's newly-aroused member.  "Ouch, you're so thick,"
she yelped.

   Toots lay on her back with her hands clasped behind her head, grinning
happily up at Clark as he slid himself into her aching and slithery
vastness.  "Mmm, you're so good," she murmured.

   Anastasia was sunk in her bean-bag with Barnaby astride her waist.  He
had already despatched one copious load before he could even get his
flailing cock between her gigantic globes, but Anastasia was working
eagerly on the resurrection with both her busy little hands.  "Do it again
for Staze," she murmured encouragingly.

   Suzanne rested her chin in her hands as Augustine found a suitable poem
and began to read to her.



   **********

   "Is that packet empty, Toots?"

   Toots squeezed the foil wrapper and fumbled in her purse.  She turned it
upside down and shook it in frustration.  "That was the last one.  I only
brought two dozen.  Anyone got any more?"

   Anastasia shook her head.  Pansy blushed bright red.

   "Have you got some hidden away, Pan?" asked Anastasia.  "Don't bother
keeping any for later.  We can always get some more."

   "I haven't used any," admitted Pansy.  "I thought they were boys'
things."

   Toots shook her head.  "Well, they are, but it's best if you put them on
for them.  They won't bother if you don't.  Boys don't get pregnant, you
see?"

   "You mean your boys haven't worn one," Anastasia gasped.  "None of
them?"

   "I did," said Perry.  "But then I did it three times with Pan.  What
about you, Og?"

   Augustine shook his head.  "She never put one on me, I thought she
couldn't get pregnant or something."

   Clark shook his head silently.  Barnaby did, too, but blushed at the
same time.

   "So you've been fucked how many times, Pan?  And they haven't been
wearing anything?" Anastasia looked at her over her glasses like a
schoolmarm.

   "I dunno.  Five?  Six?"

   "It was ten, actually," said Toots, who had been counting.

   "And we used two dozen between the two of us, Toots?  I've had eight. 
And twice between the tits without anything.  Have you had it fifteen
times?"

   "How am I s'posed to remember, Stazie?  It's been four hours!"

   "You remembered how many times I'd had it!" Pansy complained.

   The four boys shrugged and held out their hands helplessly.  They
certainly looked exhausted enough to have gone fifteen times with Toots
among the four of them.  Even Barnaby, who knew he had only been with her
twice.

   Anastasia was still worrying about Pansy.  "You do have periods, Pan,
don't you?"

   "Course I do.  I had one at the beginning of last week."

   "You might not have any more," muttered Toots.  "You should be like your
big cousin.  She savin' it for her husban'!"

   Poor Suzanne had made approaches to all of the boys in turn, but they
had laughed and cuddled her and stroked her hair and held her hand and read
her poetry, and they all respected her virginity.

   "Well, anyway, the rest of us don't want to have no babies," said
Anastasia, "so that's probably the end of the sex.  Unless anyone wants to
titty-fuck me ...?" She asked the question without much hope.  "I suppose
you could all shag Pansy again, it probably won't matter now." Even for
this generous offer, no volunteers came forward.

   "We may as well get dressed then," sighed Toots.  "Still, it was fun
while it lasted.  Who wants a straight snog?" Four weary boys crawled to
the nearest girl and started kissing.  Anastasia made sure she got Clark.
Perry returned to his first love, Toots.  Barnaby did his best with Pansy,
but she was starting to get a little tearful.  It wasn't supposed to have
been like this.

   Augustine ended up with Suzanne.  To his surprise, she tore off the
straps of her swimsuit and flung him to the floor, mashing her vast breasts
in his face.  Her tongue sought his, feverishly.

   "Hey, Suze," he gasped, between slurps.  "It's a pity you don't do
fucking.  You could be really good."

   She had done really well so far.  Now she began to cry.



   **********

   The boys filed out into our bedroom to say goodbye.  Nigel was
downstairs waiting in Toots's limo.

   "Thank you, Miss Gruntworthy, Miss Meadowlark," said Clark, as spokesman
for the delegation.  "It was good of you to invite us."

   "I hope you enjoyed yourselves," said Corinne with a suppressed giggle.
All four boys were staring openly at her in the modified Microbus dress. 
It was still terribly tight across the bust, so either I had miscalculated,
or she was still growing.  Or possibly a bit of both.  "Come here, all of
you," she said mischievously, turning her head sideways so they could kiss
her without having to climb over her mountainous breasts.  They complied
eagerly then turned to me for more of the same.

   Perhaps I ought to have controlled myself, but I was in a state of some
arousal for reasons I couldn't begin to explain.  Clark's eyes nearly
popped out when my tongue slipped into his mouth.  The brief goodbye kiss
turned into something altogether more deep and meaningful.  Clark was
finally torn loose by the next in line, Augustine, who took his cue from
Clark and went for it in a big way right from the off.  This was fun!

   Corinne, meanwhile, had been pouting and claiming it wasn't fair, so
Clark returned to her.  He was joined by Augustine as soon as he had
finished with me, leaving me with Perry, who had been waiting with some
impatience.  Only Barnaby was something of a disappointment, offering me a
polite hand to shake.  I shook it, and managed a quick snog, but I could
tell his heart wasn't really in it, so I returned to Clark for a finale.

   "Clark, please!" I broke off to tuck in my sweater, which he had pulled
out of my jeans to liberate my breasts.  "You'll have to lend a hand, now,"
I told him, "I can't put these things away on my own!" My boobs were
swinging together like the Bells of St Cat's, down by my thighs.  "Naughty
Clark!" I scolded him as he kneeled to suck at my nipples.  "NO!"

   Eventually, two of them helped sort out my sweater and we all stood,
panting slightly.

   "Well, thank you, Miss Meadowlark, Miss Gruntworthy," said Clark,
offering his hand.

   "Where are the girls?" I asked him, curious.

   "They went out the other door for some reason, Miss."

   "They'll be sending out a search party.  It's been twenty minutes," said
Corinne.

   We ushered them out.

   "Wow, Cee!"

   She agreed.  It was a little early for bed, but we'd had a long day.



   **********

   "Where have you been?  Did you get lost?"

   The boys had straggled downstairs and out to the waiting car.  Toots,
Pansy and Suzanne were leaning against the side of the limo, watching in a
jaded way as Anastasia enthusiastically administered head to Nigel in the
long grass.

   "Sorry, Toots.  We were saying goodbye to Miss Meadowlark and Miss
Gruntworthy."

   "You've been long enough.  You been gettin' your leg over, or sumpn'?"

   The boys blushed.

   "Jeez!  I dunno why I bother teachin' you lot about sex, firs' chance
you get, you start shaggin' de teachers.  Come on, in de car!"

   Toots neatly deflected Peregrine and stuck her tongue down his throat
and an arm down the front of his trousers.

   Pansy burst into tears.

   Suzanne bit her lip fiercely and squeezed her nipples through the
stretchy top of her swimsuit.

   Anastasia and Nigel disentangled themselves and kissed each other
chastely, like brother and sister, before Nigel closed his zipper and got
behind the wheel.

   The car finally drove off, Toots in the back seat with Peregrine and
Augustine.  She waved from the back window before she was dragged down out
of sight.

   "Well," sighed Anastasia.  "What do you think, Suze?"

   Suzanne burst into tears again.  And Anastasia looked on in amazement as
the two cousins hugged each other in their appallingly inappropriate
clothing, sobbing their poor little hearts out.

   They slowly made their way back to their dorm, and Anastasia watched
them go.  Then she turned sadly, to go back indoors, upstairs to her empty
room.  There wasn't even a bed in there.  All she had to show for her tea
party was a stinking litter of cushions and juice-soaked beanbags, scraps
of food and tissue paper, and two dozen used condoms.



   **********

   "She's asleep now," I said to Corinne.  "We'll rebuild her bed tomorrow.
I put her on a heap of beanbags and covered her with her duvet."

   "Did she tell you all about it?"

   "Not a lot.  Pansy had better see Nurse in the morning.  And Suzanne, I
can't believe this, Suzanne didn't get any all afternoon.  They're calling
her the ice-maiden."

   "Anastasia's stopped crying, though?"

   "She has now.  I gave her a big hug and helped her put her nightie on.
She's cuddling her teddy."

   "I thought that wasn't a teddy, it was a nightdress-bag."

   "It is, but she still cuddles him.  She's calling him Clark."

   "Of all the stupid names for a nightdress-bag."









   Chapter 78:- Total Destruction Of The Fourth Wall



   "I've got a letter," said Anastasia, waving a pink envelope.  "It's ever
so thick.  I think it's from Clark!"

   "Haven't you read it yet?" asked Shona.

   The girls were in the lab, waiting for class to start.

   Anastasia coloured slightly.  "I haven't opened it.  I don't know what
it might say."

   "You'll never find out if you don't open it," said Suzanne.  She was
still feeling hurt and bitter about her inexplicable failure to get laid at
the tea-party.  "Maybe he wants to dump you."

   "I know.  That's why I don't want to look!"

   "Give it here, I'll read it out to you," Pansy held out her hand.

   "S'mine," insisted Anastasia, holding it above her head.  "Do you think
he would dump me in a letter?"

   "Dunno," said Shona.  "Maybe he loves you." She looked at the thick
envelope again.  "But if he does, he must have said it quite a few times.
Go on, Staze.  Have a look!"

   Anastasia flushed and tore at the envelope.  Finally, she ripped it wide
open and tugged out the contents.  It seemed to be about thirty sheets of
thick writing paper.  She started to read it, her fingers trembling.

   "Ooooh!" She looked up at the others, her eyes sparkling.  "He loves
me!" She kissed Shona, who looked pleased with herself.

   "I told you he did," she said.

   Anastasia returned to the letter, reading down to the bottom of the
first page.  By then, she was scarlet, biting her lip and hopping from one
foot to the other.

   "Read it out to us," threatened Suzanne, "or we'll take it away from you
and put it on the school notice board."

   "I daren't!  It's really rude."

   The two cousins began to converge menacingly on her.

   "Oh, all right.  I'll have to leave some bits out, though...!"

   She cleared her throat.





   "'My dearest darling, Anastasia!

   This is to say thank you for inviting us

   all to the tea-party on Sunday.  It was very

   nice, and the cake was lovely.  Most of all,

   though, we all enjoyed the fucking.

   Anastasia, darling, you have the nicest

   breasts in the world ...'"



   "Huh!" grunted Suzanne.



   "'...  I have never seen any as big as yours,

   apart from your Miss Meadowlark, of course,

   and she's old.  And maybe Miss Gruntworthy's

   although when hers fell out of her jumper,

   they dangled so far down I had to get on my

   knees to suck her nipples ...'"



   "When was that, Staze?" asked Pansy.

   "Must have been while she was sucking off Nigel and the boys were saying
goodbye upstairs," sneered Suzanne.

   "Do you want to hear this letter or not?" Anastasia paused, exasperated.
She looked from one to the other of the cousins and continued.  "Where was
I, ah, "





   "'...  to suck her nipples.  I like Pansy's

   tits, too, although they are quite average

   size ...'"



   "Cheeky sod!" pouted Pansy.



   "'...  and Toots has got huge ones, nearly

   as big as yours, and a terrifically fat little

   bum!  It's a pity about Suzanne's tits.  They

   don't look natural.  They're like a stripper's.

   I didn't think they allowed little girls to

   have implants.'"



   "Mine and Pan's are the only real ones in the whole class," shouted
Suzanne, and many of the other girls in the class turned round and
sniggered.  The word of Suzanne's new title, 'Ice-Maiden' had spread
through the class like a plague.

   "They obviously don't look real enough, then, do they," said Anastasia
harshly.  "Shut up and listen.  There's more."





   "'Are yours a D cup, Staze?  Tell me your

   ra size, and those of all the other girls

   n your class.  The rest of the boys don't

   elieve us when we say we fucked four girls ...'



   "...  he means three, Suze ..."





   '...  with such gigantic tits.'"



   "What *is* our bra size?  Would he understand about ScatBras and things?
What can I tell him?"

   "You can tell him what you fuckin' well like," snarled Suzanne, still
smarting, "he's just a prat who don't know nothing."

   Anastasia pulled a face at her.  "I can't read this next bit.  It's
about our pussies.  It's ever so personal." She read on in silence for a
while.  "He says they all decided Toots had the biggest pussy, and Pansy
had the wettest.  Funny how he always talks about things being the biggest
and wettest.  And the hairiest.  That was mine," she said, matter-of
factly. She turned to the next page in silence.  "What's halibut, Shona?"

   "It's a sort of great big fish."

   "That's strange.  Golly, listen to this bit.  'I wish I could go to
sleep with your big stiff nipple in my mouth.  It's as big as your clit!'
Aaah, isn't that nice?  What's my clit?"

   The other girls stared at her open-mouthed.

   "Ooops, look out!" Anastasia folded the letter and tucked it into her
bra.  "Here comes Miss Gruntworthy."



   **********

   "Sit down, girls!" I wasn't feeling particularly disposed to small (in
height) scientifically-inclined girls this morning.  "Why are you sitting
around doing nothing instead of getting on with your projects?  You all
know what to do?"

   I was a little unfair.  The rest of the class had been quietly getting
on with its work, but not the four over-endowed star members of the First
Form Sexual Chemistry Group.  They looked at me as if aggrieved at being
singled out, instead of it being the other way round.

   "What's keeping you?" I snapped at Suzanne.  "Aren't you far enough
behind with the FatLite formula?"

   "And you, Shona?  Waiting for milking time?"

   "Pansy?  Yearning for your true-love?"

   "Anastasia, you're looking flushed.  Been playing with yourself?"

   There was no reply to this stream of rhetorical questions.  The girls
concerned hung their heads, while the rest of the class gave off almost a
glow of righteous indignation at their classmates for upsetting the teacher
when she was so obviously in the grip of pre-menstrual tension.

   "What's that sticking out of your bra, Anastasia?" I snarled at her.

   "Nothing, Miss.  A letter, Miss.  From Clark."

   "Read your love-letters in your own time, girl, not in class." The other
girls enjoyed that hugely.  "It's disgraceful, receiving love-letters at
your age." The volume of tittering rose.  "And take it out of your bra,
there isn't enough room in there to use it as a waste-paper basket." Open
laughter broke out.

   "SHUT UP!" I screamed at them, and silence fell, broken only by
Anastasia's sobbing.  "Fucking kids!" I turned and stormed up to my desk at
the front of the class, hearing shocked little gasps.

   "Teacher swore!"

   "Miss Gruntworthy said a rude word!"

   "Ooooh, Miss!"

   "Get on with your work.  I don't want to hear another peep out of any of
you."

   I had every reason to be angry with them.  While we were dressing that
morning, Corinne had happened to mention that I still seemed to be putting
on weight; and a quick check with the tape revealed yet another inch on my
hips, and *two* more on my waist!  And my tits felt as if they were
bursting and itching all the time.

   Corinne, meanwhile, she was her usual svelte and lissome self, apart
from a pair of breasts that had ballooned from merely Brobdingnagian to
hyperhumungous.  It had taken nearly ten minutes to get her safely enclosed
in the Microbus dress, even with its extra panels in the sides.  And of
course, while she had squeezed herself out of the door and set off to see
Clit and Flaps about some new bras and tops, I couldn't even fasten the
button on my skirt, let alone the zipper!

   By the time I had hurled it into the rubbish bin and found something
more stretchy, I was was ten minutes late for classes.  Why did these
things happen to me all the time?  I sat and cried into my hankie, while
the class got on with its work and wondered what was the matter with Ole
Miss Gruntworthy.

   I was reminded of the time last month when Victoria had found me crying
in class and quietly dismissed the rest of the girls while she coolly and
efficiently dealt with my problems.  No chance of that this time, I was
with the First Form, not the Thirds.

   "What's the matter, Miss?"

   I looked up.

   "Toria?  What are you doing in here?  You're supposed to be in Miss
Meadowlark's Mobility in Public Places II."

   "I know, Miss.  She couldn't get through the doors.  One door was jammed
shut and she was far too big to get through the other one on its own.  What
have you done to her, Miss?"

   "Me?  What have I done?"

   "Yes, Miss.  You!  Jeremy's unjamming her, now, Miss.  He had to take
both doors off their hinges.  And while I'm on the subject, what about
Pansy?  I suppose I'm being ignored again while you make her pregnant and
give her at least another fifteen cup sizes while I'm still stuck at less
than sixty inches?"

   "Toria, stop it!  I don't feel well."

   "And after it was *me* that wanted a steady boyfriend, you come along
and get her shagged to a frazzle by *four* horny boys!  Any one of those
would have been okay for me."

   "No, they were only fifteen.  You need someone older, more mature ..."

   "Bullshit, Miss!  I need a boy between my legs.  Not her.  Not
Anastasia. And not that little slag Toots!  As if there weren't enough
girls in this school getting knobbed on a daily basis while I sit around
frothing my knickers and getting nothing, you have to introduce the
horniest little bitch in the whole world to St Cat's.  And as if *that's*
not enough, I'm no great fan of Suzanne's, but what has she done to deserve
what you've done to her?  The only virgin in the First Form?  Is that your
idea of a sick joke?"

   I buried my face in my hands and wept.  The class worked on, saying
nothing.  I suppose Victoria had threatened them with violence if they
intervened.  I wished they would come to my rescue, perhaps dosing the
belligerent Third Former with something which would turn her into a
full-time raving nympho.

   Out of the corner of my tear-blurred vision, I vaguely saw a girl
walking past carrying a bucket.  It was Pansy.  Suddenly, everything seemed
to happen in slow motion.  From beneath one of the work benches, a white
mouse appeared, sitting on his haunches and preening his whiskers.  I
recognised him as Grimaldi, the most engaging of a batch of mice we had
recently obtained from a University on the outskirts of Swindon.

   Grimaldi appeared to eye up the distance between himself and the
approaching Pansy, then pausing only to adjust the strap of his tin helmet
and check the safety on his personal weapon, he set off at a deliberate
saunter across the aisle.

   He almost got it hopelessly wrong.

   Then Pansy caught sight of Grimaldi and stopped in her tracks.  She
teetered for a moment, the bucket tilting forward so that the bright green,
foaming contents slopped almost over the brim.  With a despairing lunge,
she recovered her balance.  She realised at the last second that she had
almost spilled the entire contents of her bucket over her very own dearly
beloved sister.

   Victoria's face was a mask of horror.  She failed to see the mouse from
where she was standing, but she did see Pansy's approach, and the contents
of the bucket as it swung precariously in her direction.  As it all took
place in slow motion, thanks to the wonders of high-speed photography and
dynamic motion control, she was powerless to escape.

   In slow motion, Victoria breathed a sigh of relief at her split second
escape.  Grimaldi, thwarted and cursing fluently, escaped under the work
bench and found himself on Shona's shoe.  In a flash of inspiration, he
scrambled up her leg, finding excellent adhesion on her coarse-textured
school stockings.  He reached bare skin and pressed on into the fragrant
tropical darkness.

   Shona was transfixed.  Something had just run up her leg and into the
private area at the top of her thighs.  As it was all taking place in slow
motion, she couldn't move even if she wanted to.  Oddly, she didn't really
want to.  Grimaldi's scampering feet felt like a lover's caressing fingers
as he pressed on into forbidden territory.  His whiskers twitched as he
found a wall in front of him.  It was covered with cloth of some
description, and moisture was trickling down it.  Probing to one side then
the other, he found a way through ...

   Shona's scream made the glassware rattle throughout the lab.

   She shot to her feet, and her breasts, unused to such violent movement,
flew upwards and outwards.  Not even a ScatBra could withstand such forces.
At a single bound, Shona's breasts were free.

   The left one contacted Anastasia, sending her flying backwards toward
the front of the classroom.  With a soft thud, she fell to the floor and
began wondering in slow motion what had happened to her.

   Shona's right breast, also operating in slow motion, took out Suzanne.
Despite Shona's substantially greater breast dimensions, Suzanne was no
pygmy in combined breast and overall body weight.  As a result, when
Shona's breast hit her, not much happened at first, apart from a great
shuddering blow, like an irresistible force meeting an immovable object.

   Almost immovable.  Suzanne was slightly off balance.  In fact, at the
moment of impact, or perhaps milliseconds before, she was about to pour the
contents of a test tube into a flask.  Now, reeling at 120 frames per
second, she lurched to her right.

   Pansy, recovering from her initial shock at seeing Grimaldi, began to
grin at Victoria with relief.  That was when Suzanne came barreling at her
like a small, slightly overweight steam roller.  The contents of the test
tube slopped neatly into the bucket.

   The mixture in the bucket thought about the situation for a few moments,
then erupted in a cloud of yellow steam.  Pansy yanked the bucket away and
screamed, the echoes mingling with the last reverberations of Shona's
scream of moments before.

   And the entire bucketful went straight over Victoria.

   She was soaked from head to foot in bright green frothing liquid. 
Yellow steam poured off her in great roiling clouds.  The rest of the girls
in the lab, feeling left out of the scene, screamed, still in slow motion.

   Grimaldi realised his error and shinned back down Shona's leg to collect
his medal.  There was something moist clinging to his whiskers.  Something
tasty and not altogether unpleasant.  He would report it to the others when
he got back to base.  As it had been a slightly scary experience, he would
call it 'Pussy'.

   Things returned to real time.  The action speeded up.  Pansy's bucket
rolled noisily from side to side on the floor.  Girls were screaming and
crying all over the lab.  I added a scream or two myself.

   "Very funny, Miss!" spluttered Victoria.  "You've really done it this
time." She turned, dripping multi-coloured foam and sploshed her way out of
the lab.

   "Shit, Pansy!" I confronted the girl responsible for this mayhem. 
"Can't you be more careful?  What was in that bucket anyway?"

   "I don't know, Miss," she wept piteously.  "It was something Anastasia
was making!"

   "What was it, Anastasia?" I thundered at her.

   She was clambering up from the floor, slipping and sliding in the
spilled liquid.  "I don't know, Miss.  It was one of those unknown formulae
we were testing to check that they weren't the mysterious ingredient that
reacts with FatLite to form SuperLite and Uncontrollable Horniness, Miss."

   "Did you need to make *three gallons* of it, Anastasia?"

   "I got carried away, Miss.  I added ten times as much of one ingredient
as I should have done, and had to multiply everything else by ten as well."

   "So we don't know what was in the mixture?"

   "Not really, no."

   Suzanne had also picked herself up.  "We didn't know what was in the
bucket even *before* Shona made me tip that test tube into it."

   "What was in the test tube, Suzanne?"

   "Gosh, I dunno, Miss.  It was something I was mixing for Shona."

   "Shona!  What was it?"

   "It was a mouse, Miss.  It ran up my leg and started nibbling my clit,
Miss!"

   Wow, I thought.  Some girls had all the luck that was going.

   "What was it like, Shona?" It was a question which needed asking.  There
was not a girl in the class who did not want to know the answer.  "But
first, what was in that test tube?"

   "God knows, Miss.  Something to do with Lube and Steam.  I was going to
analyse it once it had cooled down.  Poor Victoria, Miss!  I wonder what
will happen to her."

   "So do I.  This is a disaster.  We had better call Nurse and send Toria
down there to see her.  Darren can take all her clothes off and give her a
good soaping down in the showers.  He had better give special attention to
bodily orifices and folds in the skin.  He ought to rinse the soap off with
copious supplies of warm water and a large sponge.  Then he can dry her
with enormous, warm, fluffy towels and make sure she's tucked up in bed
with someone to look after her for a couple of days in case she develops
forty-ton breasts or gets Raging Uncontrollable Horniness.  But meanwhile,
Shona, how did it feel when Grimaldi chewed your clitoris?"

   The whole class gathered round the desk, spellbound.









   <end part XXVI>