Angelica dipped a cautious finger in the whipped cream and tried a taste. It was slightly sweet. That wasn't what she had been led to expect at all. From overheard schoolgirl conversations, Angelica had been convinced that male ejaculate tasted a bit salty. And it was supposed to smell like bleach. This batch smelled and tasted like nothing else but whipped cream.
And it certainly looked like whipped cream.
And as Angelica looked around her bed, she saw the abandoned spray cans and realised it was whipped cream. Someone, presumably not Jeremy, had been squirting whipped cream on her stomach. Jeremy, if the Senior girls were to be believed, did not miss his target. A sudden thought occurred to Angelica, and she probed further afield with her fingers, out of sight beyond her breasts. No, things were pretty moist down below, but Jeremy hadn't been in there either.
Well, that was a relief, anyway. If she was going to forfeit her virginity to a man, it made sound sense to do it while she was awake, so if there was any fun at all to be had from the experience, she could lie back and enjoy it. Again, if the Senior girls were to be believed, Jeremy was pretty good at it.
She blushed hotly at the memory of the highly explicit conversation she had overheard only a week earlier; rich in remembered fact and embroidered detail. The dreadful caretaker must be almost as perverted as most of the Senior girls themselves.
The unsolved problem of the whipped cream remained — unsolved. The likeliest perpetrator would appear to be Miss Gruntworthy, although it would be most unlike the headmistress to run off leaving a job half done. And she had left in a hurry, she hadn't even closed the door after her.
Sighing, Angelica stuck a leg out of bed and got up. The cream was turning to liquid in that unpleasant way it had, trickling down her stomach to mat itself into her pubic fur, dribbling down her thighs, dropping in gobbets on to the carpet around her feet.
"God, I'm so huge," she marvelled, feeling the weight of her massive breasts as they settled ponderously on her lower stomach. They swayed menacingly, threatening to get out of control if she tried to walk too fast. But there was no denying, they did feel quite nice, in a heavy kind of way. With a sigh, she pulled open the door and set off to the staff toilets.
Pansy, peering through the crack between the wardrobe doors, guessed where the teacher had gone. It didn't entirely solve her problem. She still had to get to the toilets herself, but with Miss Grimbo in there, it wasn't going to be that simple.
"Pssst, Suze!" she hissed, allowing the wardrobe to creak open a few inches.
"Whaddya want?"
"I want to borrow your bucket."
"I haven't got a bucket."
"That one stuck on your tit. Take it off, I need it."
"Oh, har fucking har. Funny cousin. How the fuck am I supposed to get it off? It's stuck, and my tit's blown up inside it. We'll need a can opener to get me out of here." Suzanne stood up and approached her cousin's hiding place, arriving with a soft clang. "Ouch! What do you want it for, anyway?"
"I need a loo."
"Do it in your pants," suggested Suzanne unfeelingly.
"I can't," said Pansy, horrified. "I need a poo!"
"You can't do a poo in there, you'll stink the place out." Suzanne was always so practical.
"If I shut the wardrobe doors, she won't notice. Come on, pull your bucket off and pass it in here. Grimbo's only gone for a piss. She’ll be back in a minute."
"I can't just pull it off. It will hurt."
"I'll do it, come here..." And before Suzanne could object, Pansy reached out and grabbed the handle of the bucket where it lay trapped beneath her cousin's engorged breast.
"No, owww-ow!!
"Come off, you bastard..."
"No, she's coming back, stop! Let go of my handle..."
The door of the bedroom creaked cautiously open, and with a little bleat of alarm, Suzanne somehow joined Pansy in the wardrobe — bucket, Baby and all.
"Quick, while she's in the bogs!"
Valentina grabbed Helvetica by the hand and the two of them ran down the corridor from the store room to Miss Grimbo's bedroom, and in at the door. There they stood, breathing heavily. Valentina checked that the lid was still firmly on the tub of Puff.
"In the wardrobe, quick!" Helvetica made a move in that direction but Valentina pulled her back. "Nah, too obvious. Besides, we'd never get in there, not with our tits. In the kitchen, come on."
The Juniors scampered into the kitchen, giggling with fright and excitement. They slid to the floor and crept beneath the table, trying not to laugh.
"What if she comes in here?" Helvetica whispered.
"She won't. She only got up for a piss. She'll go straight back to bed."
"I wish she could have one for me, while she's in there, I'm bursting."
"So was I. Not any more, though."
"My heart's rilly-rilly beating!"
"I can feel it," said Valentina, applying a hand to her friend's chest. "Wow," she added. "Your nips are huge tonight!"
"I can't help it," Helvetica blushed prettily. "It's because it's so cold...
She stopped as a pair of moist lips attached themselves to her plumply swollen moon. "Now don't go making a noise," Valentina warned her. "We don't want Miss Grimbo hearing things, do we?"
"Did you hear that?"
"Hear what?" Suzanne muttered through a faceful of her cousin's creamy thighs. The only way the two of them could share a wardrobe was with Suzanne on her hands and knees on the floor. "I can't hear anything down here with your legs wrapped around my ears. And don't you dare fart again," she added.
"I daren't fart again," Pansy admitted ruefully. "I nearly had an accident last time."
Suzanne struggled to escape, but there wasn't room to go anywhere. "I'll bite your leg if you do anything on my head. Hear what, anyway?"
"Those two kids just now."
"Who were they? I couldn't hear."
"Couple of Juniors. First Formers. That little slag of Nurse's for one, and the netball captain with the stupid great moons on her. Nurse's brat said they couldn't get in the wardrobe, not with their tits. Who do they think they are? Bloody cheek! We're ten times as big as them. Oops, sorry, that one just slipped out."
"Oh, poooooo! You'd better do something about your arsehole before you do something for real. Anyway, there isn't room for anybody in here, even a couple of little First Form squitters with fifty inch busts like those two. If you weren't family, I wouldn't want to be this close to you."
"Ooops, sorry, Suze! I didn't mean it," she wailed, as her cousin took an avenging bite out of her thigh."
"You've got to go. You can't stay in here; give me Baby, then get out and go to the bogs..."
"But Grimbo's out there..."
"If you're quick, she won't see you..."
"I can't run, not with these..."
"Pretend to be asleep."
"Asleep?"
"Sleep-walking. You close your eyes and hold your arms straight out in front of you. Then you walk along saying, 'whooo, I'm aslee-eeeep!'"
"Why should I say that?"
"That's what people do when they're sleep-walking. You've seen them in the comics."
Pansy was already out of the wardrobe, stretching her cramped limbs and trying not to void her bowels prematurely. She handed Baby to her cousin, who was unfolding herself from the wardrobe.
"I hold my arms out like this...?"
"No, straight in front of you."
"They won't go straight in front of me. My tits get in the way."
"Put them over the top of your tits, or hold them as straight in front as you can. Quick, before she comes back!"
Pansy edged out of the doorway, her arms out at forty-five degrees. "Why am I doing this, Suze?"
"Because that's how it's done. If Grimbo comes back, I'll cream her as soon as she goes to sleep again. You go to the bogs before it's too late. Do it, Pan."
It had to be done. It was very nearly too late. Pansy set off. Seconds later, she opened her eyes, turned round and set off again in the right direction.
Angelica neighed in panic and looked round for somewhere to hide. Something enormous was coming down the dimly-lit corridor, filling its entire width. She scrambled out of the path of the appalling creature, clambering over boxes and cleaning utensils, into what was obviously a closet of some kind. Even in her disturbed state, Angelica realised that it smelled curiously girlish in there.
She turned just in time to see the monster plod slowly past the doorway. To her surprise, it was that Third Form girl, the one who was always pregnant. Pansy Woods. For some reason, she was holding her arms out to her sides and slightly to the front; the space between them being completely filled with milk-laden boobs. The girl had her eyes shut.
"Whooo-ooo," Pansy muttered as she passed the door. "I'm aslee-eeep. Shit!" she added, accelerating slightly and blundering off both walls. As Angelica peered out of the closet door, Pansy's absurd little figure disappeared from view, turning with reasonable accuracy into the staff toilets.
Angelica shrugged. There were some weird things happening tonight. None more weird than a sleep-walking student. And why was she holding her arms out in front of her when her hands stopped a clear foot short of her nipples?
She tried it herself. Her fingers would still reach her nipples, but it was becoming quite a stretch. "Woo-woo-woo," she found herself saying. "Grimbeau, get a grip on yourself," she scolded sternly, and set off for her bedroom.
"Woo-woo-woo, Tee! What are you doing?"
"I'm creaming your moons," Valentina panted desperately. "They're so huge! Yet I want them to get huger and huger and huger. I want them to be the biggest, puffiest moons on the planet. Or even at St Cat's."
"You shouldn't, Tina," Helvetica whimpered softly, while doing nothing to prevent it. "Woo-woo! What have you stopped for?"
"I'm just getting another handful of Puff. There!" She dolloped a generous handful of cream on her girlfriend's swollen areolae.
"You have to leave some for Miss Grimbo!" Helvetica squirmed, trying to get closer to Valentina's soft and creamy hand. "Wow, this stuff feels just like Love did! Is it the same for you?"
"Yeah! Woo-woo-WOW!" Valentina yelped, and the echoes rang round the little kitchen. "Shh-hh!" she said, partly to herself. She took the remains of her handful of Puff and dived beneath her sweater to cream her own breasts. Both girls were wriggling and crawling helplessly around on the floor, completely out of control.
"It's getting better!"
"I know, I know!"
"Let's not waste it on Miss Grimbo, Tee..."
"We have to," Valentina panted. "But there's plenty here for all three of us. Listen, she's coming back."
"Woo-woo..."
"You've got to stop coming, Vets! You stay here and I'll cream her as soon as she goes to sleep. Then we'll get back to the dorm, and spend the rest of the night..."
"WOO!" declared Helvetica emphatically.
It was strange how a bed could cool down so quickly. It was like a sheet of ice as Angelica slid her bottom on to the sheet and curled up beneath the duvet. Her breasts were so huge now, the duvet barely reached to the edges of the mattress, and cold air drifted in at both sides. She shivered, closed her eyes tight, and tried to think of nice things. Where had she got to in her dream?
Ah, she remembered. Jeremy. Jeremy... Jeremy...
Suzanne cocked an ear and listened. All quiet. A faint snore, perhaps. Sleeping like a baby. Suzanne grinned to herself, hoisted Baby in the crook of one arm, and picked up her tub of cream with the other hand. Then she made her way to the bed. She had to put Baby down to get the lid off the tub. It was rilly-rilly tight! The sharp edge of her breast bucket came in handy at last: she used it to prise the lid off, then triumphantly pulled it back, set the tub down, took a deep breath and plunged both hands into the cream.
Valentina touched Helvetica on the tip of the nose with a finger full of Puff, and kissed both her girlfriend's eyelids. "See you in a minute," she promised, and crept away. With the tub of Puff in one hand, she crept to the doorway and shuffled down the side of the bed on hands and knees. It was one of those occasions when you feel as if there is someone else in the room. Her scalp crawled. Get it over with and let's get back to bed. She dipped a hand into the Puff — or was it Love?
Suzanne's scalp crawled, too. As she kneeled by the bed, she could have sworn there was someone else in the room. Get it over with, and let's get back to bed. She raised both hands, dripping with cream, and slid them under the edge of the bed covers. There was no difficulty finding the target. Miss Grimbo's breasts were almost incandescent in the confined space. Suzanne brought her hands closer to the nearer breast, the left one. Then she slapped both hands together against the hot, taut globe.
Valentina poked her tongue out in concentration as she felt for the edge of the bed cover, then penetrated the dark space beneath. No chance of missing those tits! The heat literally flowed from them. This will cool them down a bit, she thought, and went splatttt!
The cupboard door was still open and there was a box of whipped cream just inside. I grabbed a couple of cans, and headed back to Angelica's room. Silly of me to panic the way I had when she had woken up. It wouldn't have mattered if she had found me licking whipped cream off her belly. Angelica liked having whipped cream licked off her belly. Who wouldn't?
She'd been dreaming, too. Dreaming of Jeremy! And I had thought she'd been awake when she told me to lick it off. She'd been telling Jeremy to lick it off. The disgusting little slut, dreaming pornographic dreams like that. A schoolteacher, too! She ought to be ashamed of herself.
I reached her door and crept inside. She wasn't talking to herself, not any more. Just breathing softly and heavily. I felt in the darkness, found Angelica's hair, its distinctive texture, ran a finger down her cheek, her jawline, her throat, and slowly turned back the corner of the duvet.
With one knee on the edge of the mattress, I paused, ready to slither into bed with Angelica. I had decided on a less direct approach. Rather than risking another premature ejaculation of whipped cream like last time, I was going to try a bit of foreplay first. A bit of a cuddle.
"Jeremy, darling, you mustn't!"
"Oh, Your Abundance, I must!"
"No, no!"
"Yes, yes!"
"Oh, all right, then. Do that again on the other breast. Ooh, yes, like that! Your hands are so soft. And you have so many of them. Rub both my huge titties, make them bigger and bigger and bigger and bigger..."
Just a little of the cream. Just enough to make them slippery. I upturned one of the cans and aimed it into the palm of my hand in the Angelica-scented darkness beneath the covers. All I got was a rude little noise and a dribble of liquid. Bastard! Empty! Try the other can. It fizzed softly and a single squirt of water came out. Two empty cans! I would catch that van driver and wring his grotty little neck for him, the stinking rotten bastard.
How typical of the so-called working classes to screw up my love-making session. Oh, yes. No doubt when van drivers did it, they climbed aboard and shoved it in, whipped it out and wiped the end on their woman's nightie, then turned over, farted and went to sleep. Foreplay? Forget it!
With a snarled curse, I clambered back out of the bed, stood there seething for a moment, then stamped my foot. "Ouch, you fucking whoring bastard!" I hopped around the bedroom with a broken foot where I had stomped on a discarded whipped cream can. My breasts were bouncing from my knees to my chin, but I was feeling no pain apart from that in my foot.
"You great pile of van-driving shit," I screamed, before hopping out of the room. I didn't stop until I was between my own icy sheets, shivering with rage and frustration.
"What's happened?" Pansy's mouth dropped open as Suzanne hurtled past the door of the toilet like an express train.
"Come on, quick, let's get out of here. I'll explain back in the dorm."
"What is it?" Pansy floundered along behind her cousin as they lolloped down the stairs and approached the double doors. Suzanne opened them and Vanessa came steaming in, with Sally Chung only five yards behind. Pansy followed Suzanne out into the chill night of St Cat's.
"Miss Gruntworthy came in," Suzanne explained breathlessly...
"She came in and she was mad," said Valentina. "Hopping round and screaming blue murder."
"I heard her," Helvetica hurried along behind, her creamy moons aching in the icy air. "What was she mad about?"
"A van driver, or something. I didn't think Miss Gruntworthy liked van drivers. I know my mum gets off with all the delivery drivers that come to the school, but I would have thought Miss Gruntworthy had better taste. It's disappointing, really."
"So what happened?"
"I got out, and grabbed you. The only trouble was, I only had time to cream one tit with the Puff. Her right one."
"Shit, what about the other?"
"We're going to have to do it tomorrow. Either during the day, or we come back tomorrow night."
"Oh, no, Tee! I'll never wake up in the morning as it is..."
"You only did one tit?" Pansy squeaked.
"The left one. There wasn't time to do her right one, Miss Gruntworthy came in and started screaming around the place. Funny, though, it didn't wake Miss Grimbo up at all. She was still sleeping like a baby." The cousins crept down the corridor to the Third Form dorm. Pansy suddenly stopped.
"Suze!"
"What?"
"Where's Baby?"
"You've got her, haven't you?"
"I gave her to you to look after while I went for a poo."
"You must have got her. I've got the cream..."
"You had Baby, too. What have you done with her?"
"You sure you haven't got her? She's not in your cleavage?" Suzanne began probing between her cousin's breasts.
"She's not down there, Suze. You've lost my Baby! My Baby! Bab-eeeee!"
"Oh, shut up. You've got another. And another on the way..."
"I want that one. It's my daughter you're talking about. When did you have her last?"
Suzanne made a face. "In the wardrobe. No, I got out and picked up the tub. The top wouldn't come off, so I had to use the corner of my bucket to get the lid off the tub. So I put Baby down..."
"Where?"
"On Miss Grimbo's bed, of course, where else?"
"That ought to do it, Your Abundance. If you don't get pregnant with that lot inside you, my name's not Sir Jeremy Suggs of Fillamore Deepleigh."
"Pregnant? You've made me pregnant? Oh, my darling, Jeremy! You have given me a baby. The fruit of our conjoined loins."
"Conjoined loins?"
"Conjoined loins!"
"Wow, Your Abundance, you Americans sure have a way with words."
"Put it in me again, Sir Jeremy. Do it to me one more time..."
The radio alarm clock oozed Easy Listening Middle of the Road music into the morning darkness. Angelica reached out for the snooze button. The bed covers had slipped over to one side, and she pulled them up to cover her breasts. Icy winds blew in underneath the edge of the duvet, making Angelica shudder as she opened one eye. The bedroom door was wide open and it was blowing half a gale into the bedroom.
She turned over on to her side, and felt a gentle tickling sensation against one nipple. It felt delicious, like a small animal nuzzling her breast.
"Mmm-hmmm, that feels so good!" She turned on to her back again.
"Wu. Wu. Waaaaa. Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!"
Baby had woken up, cold and unhappy. She had wanted breakfast. Breakfast was at hand, then it was snatched away from her. Baby was understandably indignant.
"Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!"
Angelica sat bolt upright in bed, her eyes out on stalks. Surely it was supposed to take nine months? Still half asleep, she picked up the pathetic little howling bundle and held it against her breast.
Baby considered her options. It wasn't Mummy. It wasn't even half the size of Mummy, but it was a warm and decidedly friendly breast, and it tasted good. Fair enough. She shrugged as well as a baby could, and settled down to her breakfast.
THEY STARED at the crudely-lettered sign which said:
One of the girls turned it over. On the other side it simply said:
There must have been half a dozen girls waiting around outside Clit's workshop, waiting for her to open up. Mondays were always Miss Clitress's busiest time, with girls coming in for new bras after the weekend. Some girls needed a new bra to replace one that had been savagely handled on a heavy date; some girls had had bras stolen by boyfriends as souvenirs, others had just grown more than expected.
Angelica came round the corner and stopped suddenly. She backed away into the shadows and pulled her bulky overcoat round her. She couldn't wait in line with the others, it would be too embarrassing. They would be sure to ask questions about the baby.
"Hi, Miss Grimbo!" A cheery voice greeted her. "Have you come for a new bra, too?"
"Oh, Miranda. Erm ... I mean ... no, not really ... that is..."
"You'll be getting a nursing bra, now you've got a baby, Miss." Hairy Miranda squeezed an arm under her bosoms and lifted the wobbling load a few inches. "Look at this lot, Miss! I was a bit late starting, but I'm certainly making up for it now! I couldn't get my bra on this morning, even with the adjusters slackened right off." The girl grinned and reached out a hairy arm to the teacher. She had done away with her usual twin ponytails and her hair now hung in a rich black curtain almost to her knees. She tossed it out of her way. It must have weighed tons. "Come on, Miss. You can keep me company in the queue."
There was no escape. Hairy Miranda almost dragged her to Clit's door, where the chattering girls looked up at her with little more than passing interest before continuing their Monday morning conversation.
"And I goes if you wanna take it off, mate, you can try, but you're paying for it if you break it..."
"Yeah? What did he do?"
"You'd think he'd never heard of velcro before. He was fumbling around for about five minutes..."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah! I was getting rilly-rilly soaked! An' he's going I love you I love you I love you!"
"Wow, Sand! What happened?"
"Did he do it to you?"
"Then the picture finished and the lights came on. He let go of my bra like it was red hot. Talk about frustrated! I had to go to the loo to bring myself off..."
"Oooh, Sand!"
"I've grown at least six inches, Miss," said Miranda confidentially but piercingly, and the other girls ceased their chatter and turned to have a look.
"Oh, really?" Angelica felt several pairs of eyes burning into her.
"That's fifteen centimetres. I don't know which sounds more. I mean, fifteen sounds loads more than six, but inches sound much bigger than centimetres. What do you think, Miss?"
The girls sniffed and turned away scornfully. Juniors were always talking about boring things like maths.
"I always use inches, myself," Angelica muttered.
"So will I, in that case. And hey, look, Miss." Miranda fumbled with her blouse buttons and finally revealed a pair of pale pink moons at least six inches across. They covered the ends of the girl's breasts and extended up the sides.
"Oh, my, Miranda," said Angelica, impressed despite herself.
"No, not those, Miss! This." She heaved her full breasts apart and pointed with a finger into the murky shadows beneath. "See?"
"See what?" said Angelica faintly.
"My love trail."
"Your what?"
"This!" Giggling, Miranda lifted everything out of the way and stuck out her belly in a lewd gesture. "I've rilly-rilly grown out a lot these last few weeks. I'm so hairy, you can't even see my belly-button any more, and my love trail goes right up to here!" She pointed vaguely to somewhere between her breasts.
The other girls had stopped talking and turned round again. They looked at each other with horror and moved a few paces downwind in a marked manner.
"I'll show you later, Miss. It's a bit too cold out here." With obvious regret, she closed her blouse again and fastened a couple of token buttons.
The door opened and Clit's angry little face peered out. "What the fuck do you lot want?"
"Bras, Miss Clitress," the leader of the chattering girls said brightly. "A boy fucked mine in the pictures."
"And mine got pinched, Miss Clit."
"I just grew, Miss Clit..."
"So did I..."
"Come on in, the lot of you. Close the door. Now stand over there and shut the fuck up, okay? I've got a headache." She looked at Angelica and Hairy Miranda who had remained apart from the others, just inside the door. "Christ, Miss Grimbeau, look at the state of you. I'd better do you last. Hi, Randa, how's the fuzz?"
"Great, Miss Clit. That stuff you gave me is rilly-rilly making it grow!"
"You what?" Angelica's jaw fell open. "You've been growing your body hair?"
"Not really," Clit said quickly. "It's more of a conditioner really. It makes your pubes really soft and fluffy. I use it all the time."
"Oh, good!"
Throughout the conversation, Clit was up and down her step ladder, lifting boxes down from the storage racks. She thrust a box at each of the chattering girls, then strode over and flung the door open. "Get the fuck out," she advised them sweetly, helping the last one on her way with a well-placed foot. "Now," she said, her voice becoming a silken purr. "Get your kit off, you two!"
"What's up with you this morning?"
"I had a disturbed night," I said. "Leave me alone."
Corinne was being unnecessarily chirpy for a Monday morning. She wrapped two slices of bacon and a whole egg in a slice of bread, and took a confident bite. She is so capable: not a drop of yolk squirted out. When I try that, I get egg all over my tits. "I think I've got this benchmark thing sorted," she said indistinctly, grabbing another slice of bread and manufacturing a second egg sandwich. She littered it with slices of grilled mushroom and anointed it with a dollop of ketchup.
"Are you in a hurry or something?" I asked her.
"Got classes. I'll tell you about the benchmark later." She struggled to her feet — wow, she was huge — and I followed her to the door.
"Are you going for a new bra, Cee?"
"No time! Maybe I'll stop growing now everything's sorted out. See ya later..."
She ventured out on to the footpath just as a horse galloped at full tilt out of the woods. The rider appeared to be a cowboy in a black hat. Obviously a baddie.
Cee stepped back and took another bite of her sandwich as a second horse and rider appeared, this one in a white hat. It was Sally Chung, brandishing a pearl-handled revolver and loosing off random shots into the trees. Girls winced and ducked as leaves and twigs came showering down, then they continued their interrupted strolling conversations.
Corinne shrugged at me and finished off her sandwich. "First things first, Shannie," she whined. "Let me deal with the Angelica problem, okay? Once that's done, I can have a go at all the anomalies. She gazed after the retreating horses, which were now thundering off into the distance. Shots still rang out at intervals. Did Sally Chung never need to reload?
"Just make sure you do, before somebody gets shot."
Corinne nodded. "That Chung girl really oughtn't to be a Form Head, you know!" Cee looked both ways, and stepped out on to the footpath again.
I was pleased to see that some egg yolk had squidged on to her shirt.
"There is a God," I thought.
"That's not yours," said Clit with utter conviction. "It's whatsername's, the Woods girl. Pansy. She'll be looking everywhere for it."
"It's my baby!" Angelica held Baby in the crook of her elbow and backed away defensively. "That's why I need a nursing bra."
"You can't have a baby," Clit explained reasonably. "You're still a virgin."
"I'm not," Angelica retorted.
Hairy Miranda's mouth hung open as she stared at the teacher. How could she still be a virgin? She was ancient. "It does look a bit like Pansy Woods's Baby, Miss. She's blonde. I'd have thought if you had a baby, she'd be more, sort of ... well ... colourful, if you know what I mean."
"She's mine."
"You were a virgin last week, Miss Grimbeau, you told me when you came in for a new bra. You can't be a virgin one week and have a baby the next. It doesn't work like that."
"I'll take her back to Pansy, Miss," Miranda offered. "You can get a baby of your very own. A nice shiny black one."
Angelica was confused. Something was wrong, for sure. Now she thought about it, she didn't remember having a baby yesterday. But surely Jeremy had told her...
"You must have dreamed you had a baby, Angelica," Clit said kindly. "Let Miranda take her back to Pansy. She can do it as soon as I've measured her. Then I'll do you, and we can have a nice cup of tea and a chat. All righty?"
Miranda was already stripping off her blouse. Angelica stared. Was this the same girl who had been a founder member of the St Cat's Junior Cheerleaders? The girl had probably been conservative in her estimate of six inches growth. She was amazingly big and depressingly dangly, with nipples longer than the last joint of Angelica's thumbs. And as for her moons...
Clit sized up Miranda at a glance, without even resorting to the tape measure. Grumbling to herself, she went off to rummage through her shelves.
"I said I'd show you my love trail, Miss. You can see it better now I've got my skirt off." Why she needed to remove her skirt to get measured for a bra was not certain. Miranda lay back on the work bench and allowed her breasts to flop to each side of her chest. "There, see?"
You could hardly miss it. Emerging from her panties was a broad band of black fur, extending upward to where her navel presumably lived, and carrying on upward from there, right up between her tits.
"It's under my arms, too, see? And down here. It's going to be rilly-rilly great when I wear a bikini on the beach..."
Clit called from her step ladder, "Miss Grimbeau can see perfectly well down there, Miranda. And close your legs, it's not ladylike."
Angelica could indeed see perfectly well. Miranda's panties were stuffed to bursting like a cushion, and thick curly black hair spilled out around the crotch to cascade down the inside of both thighs like twin bearskin rugs. The dense fur showed no signs of thinning before it disappeared into the elasticated tops of the St Cat's Junior black stockings. One could only assume her legs were just as hirsute as the rest of her. Miranda produced a hair brush from somewhere, eased down her panties and began grooming her pelt with long smooth strokes. There was instantly an unmistakeable aroma of aroused girl. The fingers of her non-brush hand were buried in the jungle foliage. Completely buried. Out of sight. "Wow, that feels so nice! It's lovely and warm being hairy, Miss Grimbo, you ought to try letting yours grow out. I'm really looking forward to winter, and going out in the snow without any panti..."
"Miranda, please!" Angelica had heard enough of this obscenity. "Cover your ... yourself up at once!"
Clit shoved a long pink and silver box into Miranda's hands. "Quickly, put this on. I haven't got a ScatBra in stock. This is a standard 30J — near enough your size, and you can come back next week when you're too big for it. Look after it and I'll be able to use it for another of the Junior girls."
"Wow, thanks, Miss Clitress!" Miranda raised the lid and peeped inside. "A black one! Black is rilly-rilly sexy, Miss," she confided to Angelica. "I mean, black underwear is sexy..." She stopped, confused and blushing, and began climbing into the bra, tugging at the straps, breathing deeply, cupping her breasts from beneath and feeling their substantial weight. At last she was satisfied and put her blouse back on. It was now a dangerously tight fit, but she got herself into it. "I can't get my skirt on now," she complained, "I can't see past my tits..."
"Miranda!" Clit had had enough. "Get dressed, take Baby and get out of here. Go and show your tits off to your friends."
"They're jealous, Miss Clit, they keep saying they're all dangl..." She shut her mouth and did as she was told.
"Look after her, won't you?" Angelica said as her new baby disappeared out of the door in Miranda's arms. "It's a good thing this is just a dream," she muttered to herself, shrugging out of her great big coat.
Clit stared and shook her head. "I don't know what you've been eating, but if you don't stop soon, you're going to explode. She was cleaning a space on the blackboard and looking for her piece of chalk. Taking a deep breath, she licked her lips and began fiddling with the end of her tape measure.
"Do you think I'm any bigger?" Angelica asked.
"Bigger? Bigger? You've been getting bigger for weeks. But these last couple of days, you've been growing faster than ever."
"Nobody else seems to have noticed..."
"Of course they've noticed! How could they miss it?"
"The girls haven't. They just carry on as if nothing was happening."
Clit was already whisking the tape around Angelica's back, taking measurements with quick, practised movements. "Bloody hell!" she gasped.
"What's the matter?" Angelica wheeled round, forgetting how big she was and dealing Clit a heavy blow with her breast which sent the bra-maker reeling across the workshop.
"Gee, thanks!" Clit thrust aside a tumbled pile of bra boxes, scrambled to her feet and returned to do battle. "You'll have to watch what you're doing with those things now they're so big."
Angelica chewed her lip. "Sorry! How big are they?"
"I don't know. I was just trying to see the numbers when you knocked me flying. But you're well past seven feet."
"Seven feet?" Angelica tried to look down at herself but couldn't get any clear idea of how huge a seven foot bust really was. All she could see was a mountainous pair of breasts, swelling out before her, plunging endlessly downwards like a ski-jump. Somewhere out of sight down there were her hypersensitive nipples and tingling moons. The milk was coming in again. And Hairy Miranda had taken her baby away.
"You're a custom size," sighed Clit. "Well, a custom shape, to be more precise. I've got your previous measurements for the shape of your moons, but the size of everything has gone right out of the window. I suppose you've got classes today?"
"In ten minutes, yes."
Clit began rummaging for something on one of her top shelves. Why did she always seem to keep everything just out of reach, Angelica wondered. She seemed to be forever reaching above her head to find things. Clit came tottering down from her step ladder, brushed her hair out of her eyes and tucked her black T-shirt into her black stretch pants. "Here's one I made earlier. It will do you for now. It was for one of the Seniors who was breast-feeding, but unfortunately she had a bit of a growth spurt and shot up to about a hundred and thirty inches in a week." Clit held the bra up for inspection. Apart from its luminous slime-green colour, it looked as if it ought to be attached to the front of a sailing yacht. "It's one of our Scatty-Matties, so..."
"Scatty-Matties...?"
"The Maternity Model for the Modern Miss. It will adjust to fit you near enough, although you might find it a bit restricting round the nips for your particular construction." She was quickly loading Angelica into the bra as she spoke, ending with a grunt as she tightened both shoulder straps and yanked downwards on the jiggle dampers with a force that almost shook Angelica's teeth out of her head. " I suppose you can't reach your nipples any more?"
Angelica tried, and gasped in surprise. "No, they're out of reach!"
"Get one of the girls to help you with your flaps." Clit noticed Angelica's horrified expression. "The feeding flaps of your bra. They pull down like this." Rrrrippp, went the velcro. "Any of the girls will know how to do it, lots of our BF girls are too big to do it themselves, so they have to get their friends to open their bra flaps for them. Okay? Here's your sweater. I don't think orange is your best colour somehow. Here, try this..."
She produced an extra huge T-shirt and shook it out with a crack like a whip. It bore a lewd slogan.
Angelica was scandalised. "I can't wear this in class!"
"Why not? None of your Juniors will know what it means. And if they do know, it won't matter anyway, will it?"
"Yes, but..."
"Come on, woman, I haven't got all day. I've got a delivery due at nine and the driver will probably want a good seeing-to." She tossed Angelica's coat over her shoulders and herded her to the door, then opened it and pushed her through it into the icy morning.
As the door slammed behind her, Angelica could already hear the sounds of female orgasm from within. She plodded across the quadrangle, her bosom feeling as if it was going to arrive about ten minutes before her, wherever she was going. If Clit was right, and she was growing as fast as that, she would soon be as big as in her dream. The problem was that she didn't have a chariot, she didn't have the Angelic-O-Glyde and she didn't have an army of servants.
"Has it worked yet, can you see?"
Valentina leaned further out of the classroom window. "Not while she's still got that coat on. She doesn't usually wear a coat." Valentina chewed on her fingernails.
"She must be embarrassed because one boob is bigger than the other. It has worked. What are we going to do?" Helvetica flapped her hands helplessly. "We can't cream her other one to match, not in the middle of Geography."
Valentina looked at her friend, curious despite herself. "You mean it would be all right to cream her in any other lesson?"
"You know what I mean. Quick, sit down, she's coming in."
"Good mor-ning, Miss Grimbo!"
"Sit down, girls." The teacher looked strained and anxious. She turned to face the blackboard which bore only a crude illustration of the female pudenda. Crude, but highly detailed; if a little exaggerated in some respects. She shuddered.
"Are you cold, Miss?"
"We could turn up the heating, Miss."
"You don't want to keep your coat on indoors, Miss."
"You won't feel the benefit when you go outside."
"Oh, sorry, I wasn't thinking." She shrugged out of her coat and tossed it on the desk before turning to face the class. Thirty faces gazed back at her. Twenty-seven of them wore the glazed expressions of Junior girls about to learn the intricacies of Mercator's Projection. The other three were gaping at Miss Grimbo's projection, which was just about contained in a monstrous T-shirt bearing a lewd slogan.
Valentina shook her head at Helvetica, and the pair of them exchanged glances with the girl Geraldine, the one who had such a problem with Miss Grimbo always getting bigger but always staying the same size. All three of them shook their heads.
"That's a nice bra, Miss Grimbo!"
The whole class turned to stare at Hairy Miranda.
"Thank you, Miranda." Angelica glanced quickly down at her chest, as if she was afraid she had forgotten to finish dressing. The sight of her T-shirt reassured her; or it would have done, if it hadn't been for that lewd slogan.
"It sort of shows through your T-shirt," Miranda explained. "It's such a pretty green. Luminous. I was in Miss Clitress's this morning with Miss Grimbo," the appalling child explained to her classmates. "I was getting a new bra, too. I'm so big now..." She was unbuttoning her blouse as she spoke.
"Put them away, Randy," Valentina ordered, and Miranda sat down, blushing.
"I only thought you might like to see my new 30J-cup bra," she said quietly. "It's black, isn't it, Miss Grimbo?"
"We're not here to discuss brassières," Miss Grimbeau said sternly. "Miranda, come up and clean this mess off the blackboard, please."
"It's Geraldine's, Miss. We had Sex yesterday afternoon."
Angelica's mind silently boggled, until she worked out what the girl meant. "Clean it off, anyway." Did Hairy Miranda mean the drawing on the blackboard was a representation of Geraldine's private parts? She sneaked another disbelieving glance at the board over her shoulder before looking at Geraldine herself. The possible subject of the artwork was picking her nose with total concentration, inspecting something minutely before wiping her fingers on the underside of her chair.
The class waited politely.
Angelica broke the spell with a cough. "All right," she said, pulling herself together with an effort.
"All right!" echoed the First Form, always anxious to please. Several of them exchanged discreet and ladylike high fives, before resuming their attitude of eager attentiveness.
Angelica was beginning to wonder if the class was being disrespectful. "Look at me, girls," she blurted suddenly. "Tell me what you see!"
Stunned silence greeted her.
"You've got a nice bra on, Miss," Hairy Miranda said at last, dusting chalk from her hands.
"And a pretty T-shirt," said another girl. Giggling broke out.
"Is it true what it says, Miss?"
"Would we be allowed to wear shirts like that, Miss?"
"With different words, of course."
"And with a different picture on the back."
Her T-shirt had a picture on the back? Angelica began to panic, and tried to look over her shoulder. Not an easy thing to do, she discovered, with a pair of jugs like she had on her chest.
"How much bigger are you going to get, Miss?" Valentina's voice sliced through the babble like a knife.
Puzzled faces turned to look at her. As the silence stretched out, the thud of galloping hooves could be faintly heard in the distance, and shots echoed around the quadrangle walls. Five ... six ... seven.
"Bigger?"
"Yes, Miss. You must be even bigger than Sally Chung now."
A girl began to giggle, then stopped short when she realised she was the only one laughing.
"What size are you this morning, Miss?" Helvetica joined in. "In inches, I mean? Eighty? Eighty-five?"
The class stared at Valentina and Helvetica, uncomprehending. Geraldine was gnawing at her knuckles and shaking her head. "You're definitely bigger, Miss," she quavered, before covering her face with both hands.
Angelica shook her head to clear the fog from her brain. "Class dismissed," she said sharply. "Go to the Junior Common Room and write an essay describing the Chalk Escarpment Systems of Central Southern England. Valentina, Helvetica and Geraldine, please stay here. I want a word with you. The rest of you, I will inspect your work at break time."
The girls rose from their seats glumly. What they knew about the Chalk Escarpment Systems of Central Southern England could be engraved on the head of a pin. They filed out of the classroom. It wasn't fair. Why were those three getting away with this cruel and unusual punishment?
"I've got it! I think the anomalies are the key to the whole thing, Shannie!"
Corinne was excited, bouncing up and down. Some of her was bouncing more than the rest.
"Stand still!" I ordered her sharply in a voice heavy with authority.
She came to a relative halt and rolled her eyes to the ceiling as I grasped each of her breasts in both hands. Eventually I got most of them more or less under control. "Those are my tits, when you've finished with them," she pointed out.
"How am I supposed to concentrate while they're bouncing around like that? You're a teacher, not a Junior girl. You're supposed to be a role model. Where's your bra, anyway?"
"I don't wear a bra in the bath, Shannie," she said slowly and carefully, as if explaining the formation of the Chalk Escarpment Systems of Central Southern England to a particularly stupid dog. "I was in the bath when it came to me."
"That happens to me, too," I said. "It happens to most of the girls, so they tell me. But I don't rush in here leaping up and down like a First Former. I conduct myself with a modicum of decorum."
Corinne wrapped her huge, fluffy towel more tightly round herself and perched her cute little bottom on the corner of my green leather-topped desk. She leaned forward, forcing me to study her cleavage. "Archimedes had his best ideas in the bath," she said. "And so do I. And I've been thinking about anomalies. They're the key to the whole thing. I got everything back to front. The anomalies are the key to the benchmark problem. If we can resolve the anomalies, everything else will fall into place. Now, listen! I think we have pockets of comprehension in the school."
"Pockets of comprehension?" Whatever they were, I wasn't in one.
"Some of the girls know about things, but most of them don't. Look at Sally Chung, for instance."
I went to the window and looked out. Two foam-flecked horses were drinking deeply from the fountain in the quadrangle. Little Irish stable boys in flat caps were rubbing their coats and offering them lumps of sugar. Sally Chung and Vanessa stood close together, not speaking, sharing a bottle of Coke. Even as I watched, they shook hands gravely and mounted their steeds, Sally fired a single shot into the air and off they galloped, disappearing round the corner by the Bra Measuring Facility.
"What about her?" I asked, suppressing a yawn.
"You haven't noticed anything unusual?"
"She still seems to be chasing after that awful Vanessa girl."
"Exactly. The entire school seems to have accepted the fact. It's a major anomaly, like the piano men and the rubber sex dolls. Sally and Vanessa, whoever she is, are trapped in a kind of revolving time warp."
"Wow! Just fancy! Our Sally, lost in space..."
"Space, and time. But there are others, like Molly Malone. And Angelica's boobs. I think there are probably only a few girls in the whole of St Cat's, maybe half a dozen, who know that Angelica's breasts are now up past eighty inches. The rest see her every day but never see anything different about her."
"Yes, it's strange that we don't seem to have heard anything about Molly Malone for so long. Eighty inches? Are they? I want to see them!"
Corinne dragged me back from the door. "Sit down," she insisted, handing me a roll of industrial paper towel. "Now listen. If we can identify which girls are in this pocket of comprehension vis-à-vis Angelica, we can work out what's going on. You need to help me, of course."
"Oh, of course! Vis-à-vis?"
"Concentrate, Shan. I mean it! You have to help me; you're the only one who knows instantly when anything changes as a result of my subconscious thoughts. Sometimes I don't even know myself."
"You mean, when...?"
"Yeah, when I've had too many beers, okay. We're going to have to ask some searching questions. Once we have the answers, we can do something about the anomalies. And from there, we can do something about the benchmarks. Thank you, Shannie!"
Her lips were warm and soft. Corinne has the most delightful way of saying thank you. I only wished I knew what she was thanking me for.
"NOW, YOU three. Sit down."
The three First Formers obediently perched their little bottoms on the desks at the front of the class. This was nice: personal tuition from the bestest teacher in the whole school. And the one with arguably the biggest tits, too. Since this morning, at least. Miss Grimbo seemed to be working out what she was going to say. She prowled up and down in front of the blackboard, breathing deeply. Valentina, Helvetica and Geraldine admired the view.
"You're huge, Miss Grimbo!" Valentina put their feelings into words.
Angelica blushed prettily.
"Nobody else seems to have noticed." Geraldine sounded confused.
"How could they not notice a pair of tits that size?" Helvetica could have been just a teensy-weensy bit jealous of the way her teacher had ballooned, literally overnight. Well, more literally, over two nights. Why had she allowed Valentina to talk her into sploshing Puff all over Miss Grimbo's chest?
"That's what I wanted to talk to you about," said Angelica. "You three are the only ones who really know how hu ... how big ... my tit ... my boo ..."
"Your breasts, Miss?" Valentina offered.
"How huge they are, Miss?"
"How vast?"
"Gigantic?"
"Humungous?"
"Brobdingnagian?" suggested Geraldine, who had read a book once.
"Stop!" Angelica stamped her foot and placed her hands on her hips. She had the distinct feeling that the gesture had less impact now that her breasts obscured so much of the view of her arms. "You three have noticed. Nobody else in the class has. Either the rest of the girls are very unobservant, you are blessed with supernatural powers, or I am going mad. Some weird shit is happening."
"Oooh, Miss!" Geraldine blushed on behalf of her classmates.
Valentina and Helvetica looked nervously at each other. They couldn't admit that they had been responsible for creaming Miss Grimbo to her present ridiculous size.
"Maybe they're just too shy to mention it, Miss," Valentina suggested.
"Shy?" Angelica tried to apply the word to the First Form at St Cat's High School for Growing Girls. It didn't seem to fit, somehow. "There's something weird going on, and I'm going to get to the bottom of it. I ought to have a word with Sally Chung, as she's the First Form Head Girl. It's a pity she's so busy at the moment."
"Yeah. Maybe when she's caught that Vanessa girl, she'll be able to help you."
There was a moment's silence, and sounds of distant hooves and shots drifted in through the classroom windows. Sally would be catching Vanessa soon. It was a reassuring thought.
"What are they doing, Suze? Hurry up, I can't hold you up here much longer!"
Outside the First Form classroom window, Suzanne was perched precariously on her cousin's shoulders, her generously moist and meaty thighs around her neck. "I can't get close enough to see properly," she complained. "Your tits are too big."
"My tits are exactly the right size," Pansy asserted. "I've got two babies and another on the way, and they need milk."
"If you had fifty babies they wouldn't need that much milk. Your tits don't need to stick out four feet in front of you just to feed babies." Suzanne's legs, on each side of Pansy's head, had nowhere to go except to lie on top of those mighty udders, sticking almost straight out forwards. Where Suzanne's sensible little shoes rested, their toes turned petulantly inwards, Pansy's breasts carried on for at least another foot.
"I can't squash them any tighter against the wall. They're full of milk."
"Try turning sideways."
The ponderous pyramid of girl began shuffling carefully back and turning with all the daintiness of a lactating supertanker. "How's that?"
"A bit closer, Pan! I can nearly see, if I lean over a bit."
"Careful, Suze!"
"A little bit more. I can see now. Yeah. She's talking to three girls. Those two big kids and the one they call Geraldine. I can't hear her, but wow! She's huge, Pan!"
"Are her tits the same size as each other?"
Suzanne was silent for a while, witing for the teacher to turn to a more favourable angle. "Looks like it. But they're miles bigger than yesterday. That stuff really worked!"
"Hurry up, Suze. I can't hold you up much longer..."
Galloping hooves thundered closer. One of Sally's random shots ricocheted with a hideous clang off the bell of the quadrangle clock and whined just over the heads of the girls to smack against the wall.
"Eeeek!"
"Look out, Suze. Don't wobble!"
They picked themselves up painfully, rubbing various injured parts.
"It wasn't my fault," Suzanne wailed. "That crazy bloody Chung cow tried to shoot me!"
"She wasn't shooting at you. She was just shooting. You clumsy sod. Look what you've done to my blouse. And the milk has really started coming in now."
"You can get a new blouse. Miss Clit's got hundreds of Medium Size in stock."
"Har, har."
Suzanne struggled to her feet and offered a hand to her cousin. "Come on, fatty. Let's go to the dorm. You can change your blouse and feed Baby. And if you need milking before we get there, we can catch it in this bucket." She rubbed her breast gratefully. "You don't know how great it feels to get that thing off the end of my tit!"
"So you are not to tell anyone. Not a living soul, understand?"
Valentina understood. She nodded and the other two took their cue from her. "It's okay, Miss Grimbo. We can keep a secret. We're growing, too. Well, Geraldine isn't really, but me and Helvetica are. Helvetica used to be tiny but she's miles bigger than me now. She's got great puffies, too."
"I don't need to see them," Angelica said hastily, seeing Helvetica begin to unbutton her blouse. The experience with Hairy Miranda had left her feeling that the entire First Form was standing in line to take its clothes off specially for her to see.
Helvetica looked disappointed. "Maybe later, Miss?" she said without much hope.
"You mustn't tell even your bestest friends," Angelica doggedly returned to her theme. "They wouldn't understand."
"We don't understand either, Miss Grimbo," said Valentina. "It's obvious that you're huge now, but the others don't seem to take any notice." Valentina was being daring, steering the conversation close to the wind. She toyed with the idea of mentioning that she knew the reason for Miss Grimbo to be growing so fast, and the thought gave her a delicious thrill of danger.
Helvetica dug an elbow into her ribs. "It must be the milk, Miss," she offered, her voice trembling. "Anyway, we won't tell anyone. They're all horrible little shits in our class anyway."
"If you get much bigger," Geraldine chipped in, "you won't be able to get around. You'll have to use a wheelbarrow."
"Wheelbarrows are for girls," Valentina chided her scornfully. "Teachers aren't big enough to need wheelbarrows!"
The very thought! A teacher pushing her tits along in a barrow! Absurd! Ridiculous!
"I don't see why not," muttered Geraldine. "Women have big tits too."
"Not as big as girls, you idiot!"
Geraldine subsided altogether.
"Actually," Angelica said confidentially, and the three girls leaned forward to listen. "Actually, I'm getting a Wendy House in the woods."
"A Wendy House?"
"Wow, Miss!"
"All for you, Miss?"
"All for me, although I will be able to invite special friends over."
"Can we come, Miss?" Valentina's eyes were shining.
"Of course. You can all come, when it's built. In fact, Miss Mountains is out buying it now."
"Thank you, Mr Crabf ... Crabtree. That's right, I spoke to Borcester Portable Building Systems, like you said. They're delivering this afternoon. It will be built tomorrow, they said. You must be a very powerful man to get action as quickly as that." Smegs's voice oozed flattery and sluttishness.
"Powerful enough, Megan. I get things done quickly."
"Not too quickly," Smegs leered, crossing her fingers behind Mr Crabfart's neck as she planted little wet kisses in a row down his stubbled cheek. "I think older men have learned the value of making things last a long time."
"Oh, my dear Megan! How many older men have you known?"
"Not too many, Mr Crabmeat. None older than you, anyway, you old fucker," she muttered under her breath as she turned down his hearing aid. She raised her voice to a howl. "Gosh, is that the time? I ought to be getting back to St Cat's. I've got classes..."
"You could skip classes just for one more afternoon. One more night!"
"A whole night? Mister Craphead! How could you be so naughty!"
"You could call Borcestershire Carpet Centre and have them deliver a roll of their best, dear. They'll fit it, too, if you put on your sexiest voice!"
"Oooh, Mr Cratchit! A whole new carpet for the Wendy House? You're so good! Well, perhaps I could stay for a few more hours. Not all night, though, you naughty boy..."
"And a new king size bed from Borcester Sleapwright..."
He was beginning to sound like a local radio station.
Smegs was undressing again. Sometime tomorrow, she was going to have serious words with Miss Angelica Grimbeau, but meanwhile, the biggest, most luxuriously appointed Wendy House in the South of England was going to be assembled in the woods of St Cat's High School for Growing Girls. The Wendy House with the widest doors. She reclined on the king size bed, obviously from Borcester Sleapwright, and parted her thighs for the ninety-second time.
Lie back and prepare to think of England, Megan...
"That's right, with a little pointy roof. It's lovely!"
Geraldine hopped up and down in her excitement. The three Juniors stopped, the weak sunshine dappling them with leafy shadow as they strolled across the quad.
"Already? It's built?" Valentina wrestled with the idea of this instant housing project.
"Built and furnished. Three men carried the carpet in. It's warm salmon with a lemon floral motif. It won't show the stains at all."
"What stains?" Helvetica demanded.
"Any stains at all." Geraldine blushed deeply and bit her lip. "Milk and stuff..."
"Talking of stains, I wonder if Miss Mountains will be moving in with her," said Valentina.
"Oh, poo!" Helvetica was disgusted.
"Moving in? What for?" Geraldine must have led a sheltered life.
Valentina and Helvetica looked at her until she buried her face in her hands.
"Don't look at me like that! I can't help it if I don't know about things."
"They were bringing the carpet in?" Helvetica pressed her for information.
"Yeah. And the piano."
"A piano?" Valentina exchanged glances with Helvetica. "How can they get a piano in a Wendy House?"
"Easy. It's got great big wide doors. The fishermen were carrying the piano inside when I came past."
"Fishermen?" Helvetica rolled her eyes and sighed.
"Three fishermen. Not anglers. Not like by the canal. These were deep sea fishermen with oilskins and stuff. Three of them."
"I suppose they had a trawler moored on the stream," Valentina mocked.
"No, a van. A big square van with a kind of ramp leading up into the back and one of those doors that rolls up like the blinds on my mum's kitchen windows. It was a huge piano. One of those with a big lid that opens up on top, like on the telly. A white one," Geraldine ended with relish.
Valentina summed up. "Three trawlermen in oilskins carried a white grand piano down a ramp out of the back of a van with a roller shutter back door. They carried it into the Wendy House, and the doors were so wide, they had no trouble getting it in."
"That's right."
"Sounds reasonable enough to me," said Valentina to her own complete surprise. "I suppose it was raining at the time?"
"What difference does that make...?" Helvetica began.
"Yes, it was. It suddenly started while I was watching. It was pissing down, so I had to run for the school. Funny thing, though, when I got over here, it was dry, and the sun was shining. How did you know it was raining?" Geraldine ended ominously.
Valentina furrowed her brow in thought. "I don't know. I just had a funny feeling. Look out!"
The three of them flung themselves to the ground as Vanessa came crashing through the sunlit quad at a full gallop. "Yee-hah!" she yelled.
"Stay down a minute," Valentina urged them. They stayed on the ground, lying as flat on their stomachs as girls can when they have such absurdly large busts for their age as Helvetica and Valentina.
"Is it safe to get up yet?" Helvetica asked nervously.
Valentina looked around. "It seems clear." Cautiously, she began to get up on to her knees. "No, get down!" She grabbed her friends and dragged them down. They lay prone for several minutes, hearing nothing but their own heartbeats.
"What is it?" Helvetica whispered.
"I don't know."
"Can we get up, then?" Geraldine whimpered. "I've broken my nail."
Stiffly, they kneeled, then stood up and began to edge their way to the side of the fountain. "I had a funny feeling again," Valentina explained. "I don't what caused it. It was like when you've been here before and you know what someone is just going to say before they say it."
"What was I going to say, then?" Helvetica asked sarcastically. She rubbed her right breast which had hit the ground quite hard.
"Look out!"
"Look out!" Helvetica screamed, as a huge white horse and a buxom Chinese rider rounded the corner of the quad and sailed over their heads, scattering rainbow droplets of water as it soared through the fountain.
"Yee hah!" howled Sally Chung, whipping a revolver from her holster and loosing off seven rapid shots at the clock tower. She galloped on and disappeared down the alleyway beside the bra measuring facility towards Jeremy's shed and the maternity building.
"She'll frighten the babies," Geraldine said crossly. "She ought to be more considerate."
"Who?" said Valentina and Helvetica.
"I'll have the power on by the morning," said Jeremy, wiping his hands on a wad of industrial paper towel. "There's no reason why you couldn't move in tomorrow afternoon."
"Wow, thanks, Jeremy!" Angelica stood on tiptoe and kissed him on the cheek. Her mighty breasts were squished around his upper arms, his chest and his back.
"Golly! That was nice!"
Angelica blushed prettily. "Can I look inside?"
"Sure, it's a bit dark, but you can use my torch." Jeremy produced a curiously long Maglite and pushed the Wendy House door open. It swung back without a squeak and they peered inside.
"Hey, a piano! For me?"
"I suppose so. You must have ordered it."
"No, I didn't. Mee-gan must have got it from Mr Crabfart. A white one! Does it work?"
"Work? I suppose so. Try it." Jeremy opened the cover of the keyboard, then raised the sounding board and propped it open.
Angelica sat on the revolving stool and played a cautious arpeggio. "Wow, it's lovely! Would you do me a favour, Jeremy, please?" she asked softly.
Jeremy gulped. "Of course. What would you...?"
"Loosen my bra, please!"
"Your ... bra?"
"You know how, surely?" Angelica giggled musically and Jeremy melted.
"Umm, I suppose so. It's a standard ScatBra, I suppose?"
"Standard, yes, if you can call ninety-three inches standard. Just loosen the straps so my boobs can rest in my lap. Then I'll play something for you..."
"Shit!" With fumbling hands, Jeremy managed to do Angelica's bidding. The height adjustment straps slid quickly down to their fullest extension.
"Ouch! They're so heavy!" Angelica steadied the masses of flesh, making sure her breasts couldn't fall off her thighs and do some damage. "But that's just fine. Now then..." Her long fingers strayed across the keys, bringing a twinkling spray of starlight down from the ceiling of the Wendy House about their heads. "How about this one?"
And she began to play.
Jeremy found a lump in his throat and hot tears stung his eyes as the beautiful melody flowed through the room. "Do you know the words?" she asked him huskily, looking up into his face.
"Words?"
"Yes, silly! I'll sing it through once, then next time you can join in and we'll do it together."
"We will?"
"Don't be a rude little boy!" She punched him playfully, but missed her intended target.
"Ooof! Ouch!"
"Oooh, Jeremy! I'm so sorry! Did I hit your ... you on the ... did I hit your...?"
"Yes," Jeremy confirmed.
"Oh, no! Does it hurt? Can I ... should I ... do you want me to...?"
"Rub it better...?" he gasped hopefully.
"No! I was going to ask if you wanted me to call Nurse."
"Nurse? What for? I'm not injured. Just put your hand here a minute..."
The musical accompaniment continued in the bass only.
"Just there?"
"Higher!"
"Up here?"
"Higher!"
"Right up there? Wow, yes. Sheesh!"
With something between a sob and a snarl, Smegs crept away through the bushes, blundering faster and faster as she approached the school buildings. She didn't stop until she was upstairs and her bedroom door slammed behind her.
"Get out!" she screamed at the five First Form girls who were sorting used panties on the bed in a desultory fashion. "Get out and go to your dorm at once!"
As the door closed behind the wondering girls, she flung herself on her damp bed and really let the tears flow in earnest.
She only cried for a few minutes. Getting up, grim-faced, she snatched her car keys and inspected her face in the dressing table mirror. "Sod you, bitch," she snarled. "I'm going back where I'm appreciated."
"Do you like my huge breasts, Jeremy? Oooh, your hands are so horny and hard!"
"Miranda, shove a cork in it, will you!" Valentina commanded. "You and your fantasies are keeping thirty girls awake in here."
"Some of us were listening," came a voice from the darkness of the dorm.
"Yeah, it sounded rilly-rilly good!"
"I was getting rilly-rilly horny!"
"Let her carry on, Tee, I'm soaked!"
"Shit, you're all sick, you lot." Valentina snorted scornfully.
"It's all right for you, Tee, you've got Helvetica's tits to suckle."
"And she's got yours."
"Miranda's been so horny since her tits started growing. Go on, Randy, don't listen to Nightingale. Carry on."
"Where did I get to?" Miranda asked, thrilled to be the centre of attention.
"Jeremy was just feeling your tits."
"His hands were all horny."
"And hard."
"That's not all that was hard."
"And horny."
"My clit's growing, I reckon!"
A light came on and twenty eight girls stared at hairy Miranda. She had thrown back her bed covers and was doing something with a ruler.
"It's not a foot long, Randy!"
"It feels like it. Everything's getting so big. My hair started growing, then my love trail, then my moons, then my tits. Now it's my clit!"
"Get on with your fantasy, Randy."
"I'm busy. Hang on."
"Get on with it, I'm drying out!"
"No. It's nearly an inch! What's three centimetres?"
"That's more than an inch! Is that how big it is?"
Girls were climbing out of bed and coming to investigate. Miranda was gratified.
"Let's see it, Rand!"
"No, it's mine!" She pulled the sheet up to her chin.
"We only want to see it, we don't want to take it away!"
"Come on, get it out!"
"We're not letting you sleep until we've seen it."
"You can't see it," said Miranda at last. "I'm too hairy. It's buried in fur. All of me is so furry. I must have the hairiest pussy in the world. I've got..." Miranda lowered the sheet.
"Oh, yuck, poo-ey!" The girls scattered to their beds.
"Shut her up, somebody!"
"She's like an animal!"
"Quiet, Randy! And put that light out before the Duty Prefect comes round. It's Old Floppers, and you know how jealous she is of Juniors with firmer tits than she's got. We'll all be on panties for a month."
Darkness descended again. "Hey, talking of panties." It was one of the five girls expelled from Smegs's bedroom. "We were in old Mountains's room, doing panties tonight. It was a big sack of Fifth Form stuff, rilly-rilly stinky..."
"Yeah, all full of boys' spunk..."
"And girl-cream..."
"Get on with it," Valentina yelled.
"We'll we were on her bed, and she came in and slung us out."
"Was she on her own? She didn't have Miss Grimbo with her?"
"No, on her own. And when we got out and the door was shut, I could swear we heard her crying."
"Crying? Miss Mountains? She doesn't cry!"
"She was tonight."
"Maybe she was coming," Geraldine suggested, then lapsed into silence, blushing in the dark.
"No, she wouldn't come on her own," said Valentina. "She's seeing Miss Grimbo."
"Shhhh! Listen, what's that?" Helvetica called for silence. She got it instantly.
A faint howling noise.
"I can't hear any..."
"Shhhhh!"
"There it is again. Open a window."
Geraldine got out of bed and opened a window. "Wow, it's cold out there. My nips have grown to three times their normal size." She blushed again, glad that no one could see.
This time the sound came clearly on the night air.
"It's somebody singing!"
They listened carefully. A sweet female voice warbled a plaintive melody, somewhere out in the woods.
"Sounds like Grimbo," Valentina said uncertainly.
"And someone's playing a piano."
"Grimbo's got a piano," said Geraldine. "A big white one."
"There's a man singing, too!"
"A duet."
"It must be Jeremy," Miranda quavered, her voice all a-quiver with emotion and what she was doing to her hairy self beneath the sheets.
"There's something weird going on around here," said Valentina with conviction. "People don't sing out loud at this time of night. What's the time, anyway?"
The quadrangle clock struck eleven with unnecessary violence and the girls clapped their hands over their ears. Geraldine shut the window again. It helped, but not much. Valentina was already half out of bed, fumbling for her dressing gown.
"Who's coming to investigate? Helvetica?"
"No way at this time of night. You're not dragging me out into the woods at midnight on a night like this."
"First thing tomorrow, then. Before breakfast. You and me, we're going to find out what Miss Grimbo was singing about."
The dormitory door opened and a pale shaft of light filtered in from the corridor.
"Shut up, you kids!" It was Old Floppers from the Upper Sixth herself, silhoutted against the doorway. Her breasts hung almost to her thighs beneath her nightie. She ought really to have been wearing a bra. "One more word out of any of you, and you'll be on panties for a month."
"There, what did I tell you?" Valentina blurted before she could stop herself.
"Valentina Nightingale! Come and see me first thing tomorrow, before breakfast!"