THINK BIG:
New-Age Bobbie

by Joe Average

NOTE: As always, if you shouldn't be reading this, don't. That ought to be just about as effective as that "FBI Warning" you see at the beginning of video cassettes.

Todd unlocked the door to his strip joint... sorry — Gentlemen's Club. That seemed to be the current term. Well, there are gentlemen's clubs and there are strip joints. Todd's was a strip joint. Dancers still picked their numbers by punching them into the jukebox, and the decor was still mostly day-glo paint and black light. Hmm, he thought. Maybe that's the problem. Haven't kept up with the times. Well, maybe today his fortunes would change. Today, TAMARA'S TOPLESS was auditioning new dancers. Yes, TAMARA'S. Todd always thought the guys found it sexier to think that a woman was running the place, putting all this female flesh out there for them to enjoy. Whenever the customers asked where Tamara was, he just made some excuse. But today — he'd see some new talent. As he turned on the stage lights and hit the side of the jukebox with his hand, he thought a minute about the girls he had dancing there now. A pretty good-looking group, he thought. Good variety. The only thing they were missing was the one thing that would put the place on the map. Tits. Casey, his biggest-busted dancer, was only about a 36C. Now, for girls you'd be likely to see walking down the street, that wouldn't be bad. But the guys expect more at a strip joint. They want big, big knockers, enormous hooters, gargantuan gazongas. "I want to see a pair of titties that walks through that door a good forty seconds before the woman attached to them does. I need some world-class titties!!" he cried out loud. Thank Christ he was by himself. Anybody else would think he was some kind of nut.
    In a cheap apartment across town, a clock radio went off. A skinny girl with stringy dark brown hair stepped off her mattress on the floor and walked across the room to turn it off. Bobbie poured herself some Capn' Crunch and ate it dry without a spoon. Better shower, she thought. Today's the day I try to get a job. She was planning to go to Tamara's Topless and audition. Maybe it wasn't what her mom — the new-age, granola, herb tea, free spirit type — had envisioned for her daughter ... but Bobbie was willing to try anything. Her mom tended to trust everyone and look for the best in people, and she had handed that down to Bobbie. That was the main reason she was down to her last couple of dollars, and needed this job. After showering and putting on a clean ... well, cleaner sweatshirt and jeans, Bobbie reached for her backpack that contained the statue. The statue her mom had given her, telling her that whenever Bobbie was in trouble ... invoke the power of the Goddess of Femininity. The power of being a woman will always see you through.
    Todd looked at his watch. 11am. That's the time he'd put in the ad, and so far, no one had come in. Were there no young women whose fondest hope and dream was to have drunken men leer at their bodies? Wasn't this America? Just then, Todd heard the door open. A skinny brunette in a shapeless grey sweatshirt, loose jeans, and dirty sneakers lumbered in.
    Geez, he thought. Is this the level of 'talent' I can expect.
    "Hello," said the girl with a smile. "I'm Bobbie." She held out her hand.
    Todd grasped it and shook, glad that at least someone had shown up. "I'm Todd. Pleased to meet you... Bobbie, was it?"
    "Yeah. My dad wanted a boy."
    And looking at your figure, he almost got his wish, thought Todd. To himself, anyway.
    Todd gestured to one of the tables. "Sit down," he said. "Can I get you anything to drink?"
    "Coffee would be nice," Bobbie answered, carefully placing her backpack on the table.
    Todd wandered over to the coffee machine.
    "A few formalities. I need to see proof of age or I could get in big trouble. Then I'd like you to tell me a little bit about yourself." He brought her a mug of black coffee, and contributed an afterthought. "Not that the verbal part of the audition would be the deciding factor or anything."
    "Thanks," said Bobbie, reaching for the mug a little too hungrily. "Here's my driver's license. It's got my birthdate."
    Todd glanced at it. "You're legal. Are you from around here?"
    She shook her head. "Cambridge, Massachusetts. Home to lots of old sixties 'heads' who still burn incense, listen to Hendrix, and think that the meaning of life can be found in picking vegetables on a farm instead of making a living. That's how I was brought up — and that's what I want to change."
    "Brought up? How do you mean?" Todd wanted to know.
    "My mother and father lived on a commune. Screw that. I want to make some cash." said Bobbie.
    "I like your attitude. So you broke away from that... kind of lifestyle?"
    Bobbie hesitated. "Not completely. There's one thing my mom instilled in me that I still believe. And I guess it's a little ... I don't know, flakey."
    "Tell me about it."
    "She always believed that the power of being a woman would see you through. No matter what happens, just believe in the Goddess of Femininity — Mammalia."
    "Mammalia?" Todd raised a questioning eyebrow.
    "Oh, yes. Mammalia. Those of us who know her well call her Mam." Bobbie started opening up the backpack on the table. "This is she. She's helped me many a time. But this time — she's going to help me make some money."
    Todd stared. The table was now covered with a four foot statue of a woman. A nude woman ... with lush curvy hips ... a comparably slim waist ... hair that hung to her knees ... and two of the most enourmous, point-out-at-you torpedo tits Todd had ever seen. They so dominated the sculpture, he was sure it would topple over... but mysteriously, it didn't.
    "Wow," he said softly. "Pleased to meet you, Mam."
    Bobbie gave him a sharp look that told him his familiarity was inappropriate.
    "Mammalia." Todd felt a little foolish, correcting himself to a statue. "Is that polished ebony?"
    "No," said Bobbie. "Maltese."
    Just like the falcon, thought Todd. The stuff dreams are made of. Fortunately, he kept the third rate Bogart impression to himself.
    "Uh..." Todd searched for the right words. "She's sexy, all right. But I don't think I can put her on the stage for my customers."
    A shy smile spread across the face of the slim brunette. "Patience. Patience. Good things come to those who wait. Or rather... those who wait...come." Bobbie smiled suggestively and stood in front of the idol, her back to Todd.
    Closing her eyes as if willing herself into a trance, Bobbie forcefully grabbed the statue's huge breast by the nipples.
    "The power of a woman is not in the womb..." she spoke softly, almost like a chant. "It is not in the hips ... nor the vagina ... not even in the clitoris. The power of a woman ... the essence of femininity is in the breasts!" She spoke the key word in a feverish whisper. "The heft ... the thrust ... the sheer bulk and mass ... in the darkening saucers that surround the nipples ... and in the nipples, that in their hardening, seem to call to every man to seek nourishment, comfort ... and orgasm."
    Todd wouldn't swear to it, but he was pretty sure he heard thunder.
    "Mammalia ... your servant humbly asks ... to be ... endowed ... with the power of being a woman!"
    Todd noticed that Bobbie's loose jeans were now drum tight against her fine ass and womanly hips. The dirty sneakers had dissappeared and were inexplicably replaced by spiky heels. There was a delicious definition to the sloping border between her hips and waist.
    And when Bobbie turned around ... her gray sweatshirt was loaded to the bursting point with the biggest, sexiest WORLD-CLASS TITS Todd had ever seen in his life. And Todd had seen a few.
    When Bobbie had come in the room, her shirt was neither tight nor low-cut. Now it couldn't help but be both. She walked slowly toward Todd. Her boobs bobbed with every step — swaying over her waist, jutting up toward her chin. She walked heavily, enjoying the feel her gelatinous medicine balls created in their non-stop dance around her torso and the click, click, click the spike heels made as they danced merrily across the floor.
    Bobbie could see that Todd was transfixed. He couldn't take his eyes off these suddenly overgrown babies. "Don't take your eyes off them, darling. Speak your answer directly into my cleavage. Aren't these what you want bringing lonely and generous men into Tamara's Topless? Think of how much they'll spend on beers just so that have a chance to watch these knockers knock into each other just a little bit longer? Think of how these over-inflated weather balloons will make them forget about an over-inflated cover charge? Think about how they'll tell all their friends 'You gotta come down and see these TITS!"
    Todd just nodded his head at her zeppelins. SHe was appealing to both his sense of lust and greed.
    "I — I don't have to see you dance. With those boobies, all you have to be able to do is move them about and men will finding that their underwear feels really tight. But I ... I do have to see them, " said Todd.
    Bobbie took a step toward him. The undulating of her abundant tittie flesh after even the slightest movement was downright inspiring. "Ask nicely," she challenged him.
    "Please, Ms Bobbie. May I see your tits?"
    She turned from him and shimmied toward the jukebox. Her smile showed satisfaction without smugness. She raised her hand with the intention of hitting the side of the jukebox with her fist to begin a musical selection. But she stopped herself. A more theatrical way to acheive the same ends had occurred to her.
    Pivoting her hips to maximize impact, she reared her bust up and back toward the jukebox's side — landing her jugs on the surface with an audible whomp. A slow, bluesy sixties soul instrumental started weaving its way through the joint. Bobbie started moving her hips to the music. And while she was making no overt attempt to move her big monster titties around, they moved just the same. Man, did they move. She smiled when she noticed that Todd kept shifting in his seat — presumably to make room for his ever expanding cock. Bobbie decided not to postpone the inevitable. She reached for the bottom hem of her sweatshirt and began inching it upwards. It was time for the unveiling. Todd was amazed at how much swelling bouncy titflesh was visible even before Bobbie's nipples hit the air. And what nipples. He'd seen rock-hard tit tips point at him before. But these were positively accusatory!
    "You're hired! You're hired! Please please please come and work here!" Todd called to her over the sound of the music.
    "Thanks. You won't regret it," she answered, not bothering to replace her shirt.
    "And Mammalia is hired, too. I don't ever want to see you in here without her! She ... inspires you, I think. Are you going to keep this look from now on? I'm asking purely for professional reasons," Todd continued.
    "We'll see. It's easier to ride the bus without these enormous chest champions. I'll probably reverse the effect after every shift," said Bobbie.
    "You can do that?" Todd wanted to know.
    Bobbie grinned. She reached for the Maltese idol's overdeveloped frontal real estate and whispered something inaudible. Her boobs soundlessly reverted to their original state.
    Todd was disappointed. He must have actually pouted, because Bobbie reached for the sculptured nipples again. Now her knockers regained their spectacular size and shape once again.
    "What should we call you?" Todd wondered. "Hmm! We could use Bobbie Boobies, Bobbie Bazongas, Bobbie Big Ones, Bobbie Beachballs..."
    Bobbie stepped forward until those beachballs were surrounding Todd's lips, forcing him to shut the blazes up.
    "Just ... Big Bobbie," she whispered. "It says what needs to be said, and the papers will print it."
    She's got something there, thought Todd. He dislodged his lips from her gazongas' grip to ask one more question.
    "Bobbie...?"
    "Yes?"
    "Your mom. The one who gave you the statue of Mammalia and taught you how to channel its powers and utilize the Power to Be a Woman to its fullest extent..."
    "What about her?"
    "Well," Todd puzzled. "Wouldn't she have been kind of a feminist? Would she approve of your working in this kind of job? I mean, after all, you're going to be under the thumb of men around here!"
    Bobbie stared unblinkingly into his eyes. "I want you to understand something about my working here. It will be with a very large base salary, untold tips, full benefits, 401K, stock options, a share of the gate every time I appear, and no demands of exclusiviity."
    Todd just nodded dumbly.
    "I will own all rights to my name and likeness. You will assume all start up costs for setting up a Big Bobbie web site, collect subscription fees from lonely and generous men all over the globe, and all I'll have to do is show up and juggle my jugs. Is that understood?"
    Todd kept nodding as her directed his answers to her boobies. "Perfectly."
    Bobbie pulled two copies of a long document out of her backpack. "This contract spells out everything I just outlined. I just need your signature in two places."
    Todd nodded and signed. Bobbie stashed her copy of the agreement in her cleavage. Todd followed it the whole way. Bobbie finally had to pick his nose out from between her abundant flesh just to leave.
    "Now... what was that you were saying about being under the thumb of men?"
    "I have no idea," answered Todd.
    "That's what I thought. Well! See you tomorrow night!" She jounced to the door, turning back once more before leaving. "Check that contract for all the things you'll need to take care of before I start work. The chauffer driven limousine, the imported wines and refreshments for my dressing room..."
    Todd nodded again. "Consider it done."
    "'Bye!" With that... she was gone. Todd was pleased. Bobbie's bouncing biggies would be just what he needed to put this flea-bitten old strip joint back on the map.
    As he walked behind the bar to start getting the place ready to open, he suddenly stopped short.
    "Shit," he said out loud to nobody in particular. "I forgot to have her come in the room. I wanted to see if it really would be a good forty seconds before she came in after her tits hit the door!"

The End