SMEGS PAID THE taxi driver and stepped out on to the deserted car park.
"Cheers, Miss!" The taxi turned slowly round before proceeding at less than walking pace in the direction of the main gate.
"Randy bastard! He expects to get a sight of some big-titted girls at seven on a Sunday morning? In his dreams!"
Cccrassshhh! Tinkle, tinkle.
The taxi had come to a halt. In fact, it was incapable of further progress, with its nose wrapped round a tree like that. Steam wisped out of the crumpled engine compartment.
Beyond the wreck was the probable cause of the incident. A single file of girls was threading its way between the trees in the direction of Angelica's Wendy House. The taxi driver, mercifully still alive and well, was gazing at them through his crazed windshield.
The girls, five of them, ignored the crashed taxi completely, picking their way with delicate steps through the wet undergrowth. They wore what Smegs recognised as their nightwear, a selection of flimsy nightresses and outsized T-shirts. Each of them was carrying a plastic carrier bag.
"The little sluts," Smegs snarled. "They're going to an orgy at seven in the morning. That horny-arsed bastard Jeremy getting his leg over. As if he isn't satisfied with Angelica, he has to screw five Juniors as well. I ought to report him to the appropriate authorities. Huh, they'd never believe me. How could one man have the stamina to have sexual relations with as many women as Jeremy does?"
Drawn by curiosity, she headed towards the Wendy House, passing the taxi without a further glance. Walking was uncomfortable for her. She felt like a cowboy who had lost his horse. She hadn't been out of the saddle for the best part of a week. She hoped Mr Crabtree was feeling the effects as well. The unexpected arrival of the formidable Mrs Crabtree had curtailed matters somewhat abruptly this morning. As Smegs threw her clothes out of the window and clambered out after them, she had extracted a final promise from Mr Crabtree before she slithered down the drainpipe. A CD autochanger with twelve speakers and a sub-woofer beneath the seats. Unfortunately, the car wouldn't be ready until tomorrow night. Her own car was parked out the front of the house, where Mrs Crabtree was trying to park...
She had dressed in the taxi on the way back to St Cat's, the driver watching her as well as he could in the interior mirror. They had narrowly avoided disaster several times. It was entirely appropriate that the driver had finally fallen victim to his lust.
The girls were knocking on the door. Closer now, Smegs recognised them as the First Form: the Bold girl, and Nurse's brat. Then three others, all fairly faceless. No sign of their little crony, the pretty one, what was her name? Geraldine, that was it.
The door opened and the girls slipped inside. Smegs slowed her approach. She had to take care picking a course between the bushes. Her muscles screamed in protest. Besides, she didn't really want to get to the Wendy House. She knew that when she looked in through the window, she would witness a full-scale orgy, with Angelica being taken care of by the school caretaker. Already, she fancied she could hear howling noises.
Little bastards!
They were even playing the piano in there! It was like a cheap porno video.
She came closer to the window. Surprisingly, there wasn't much noise from inside the Wendy House: the double glazed windows were fairly soundproof. There were certainly party sounds filtering out, but nothing really recognisable. Closer. Smegs reached the window and ... the curtains were still drawn. She cursed, and peered closer, trying to see through the crack.
"Morning, young Megan!"
"Eeek!"
"Sorry! I didn't mean to scare you. I was making that much noise coming across here..."
"Jeremy!"
"You look as if you've seen a ghost. I've only come across to measure the door. She won't be awake yet, so I won't disturb her. What are you looking for?"
"Looking? Oh, nothing. The curtains are closed."
"It's early yet. You're up early, too. It's only seven." Jeremy caught sight of the taxi. "Bloody hell! What happened to him?"
"Him? Oh, him. He crashed. He was looking at the girls."
"Girls, at this time in the morning?"
"Yeah." Smegs had this unreal feeling about this whole conversation. "The Firsts. Five of them came in here in their nighties. That's what I was looking for. To see what you were ... what they were up to..."
"They're having a musical soirée, by the sound of it..."
"You can't have a soirée in the mornings. It would have to be a matinée." Smegs shuffled her feet nervously and looked for another window, perhaps with a bigger crack between the curtains.
Jeremy was in the back doorway, on his hands and knees with his tape measure. He checked the width of the doorway, muttered to himself and scribbled some numbers on a pad. "Right," he said, getting to his feet. "It will just fit!"
"What will just fit?"
"Ah, ha! Surprise, surprise! We don't want to let the cat out of the bag yet, do we?" He touched a finger to the side of his nose infuriatingly. Gosh, men were so annoying. He was buying Angelica a present and being so damned secretive about it.
"I don't care. It doesn't matter to me. Do what you like."
"I'll go and see if the taxi driver needs a hand, then I shall have a spot of breakfast. Picked some lovely mushrooms this morning." He indicated something about the size of a dinner plate with both hands. And whistling something unrecognisable, he swaggered away through the woods to where the taxi driver had finally climbed out to survey the damage. Faintly, Smegs heard Jeremy's cheery greeting," Oi, you can't park there, me old mate!"
Of course, Smegs thought, it was all deception. He had been coming over to join the orgy. He would hang around waiting for her to leave the Wendy House, then he would be in there like a rat up a drainpipe.
She wandered round to the next window and looked through. The edge of the curtain was caught on something, so she could see clearly into the room. An amazing scene met her eyes. Scattered beanbags, girls locked in sizzling embrace with horny youths. Angelica being heartily rodgered by a gang of bikers in studded black leather outfits with lurid paintings on the backs.
None of that.
There, clustered around the white grand piano, the First Formers stood with their heads close together, warbling something. One girl sat at the piano, picking out the same line of music. She stopped, wagged a finger and hit the same note a dozen times to emphasise a point. Behind the angelic little group of Juniors, Angelica hovered in the kitchen doorway, smiling fondly.
The music started again, now recognisably the School Song, an unmemorable ditty written on the cheap during Moggie's reign. Smegs had never been fond of the tune, nor the deeply uninspiring words.
She stepped back from the window and sat down on a grassy bank.
"They're singing!"
She sat there for several minutes, taking in what she had seen. And not seen. Then she realised the grass was soaking wet.
"That was quite promising, Valentina. And you have a nice touch, Can..."
"Candelabra, Miss Grimbo," said the girl at the piano.
"A lovely name," said Angelica faintly. Seeing that the four girls round the piano were taking a deep breath ready to start the chorus again, she hurried on. "I like what I'm hearing so far, but it still needs some work. I mean, it's a pleasant enough little song, but it lacks something, know what I mean?"
"You mean it needs spicing up a bit, Miss?" Candelabra produced a passable if ponderous boogie bass, while attempting to hit the right notes with her other hand.
"Try it like this, kid," said Angelica, squeezing herself closer to the piano. The other girls made room, only to find that Miss Grimbo needed more room than most people would. She reached around her bosom and found the keys with her right hand. "Like this. You start off the bass, and I'll come in with the melody. Ready, after three. Three!"
And off they went. Certainly, Valentina and Helvetica thought they had never heard the school song sound quite like that before. And after a few minutes, when Miss Grimbo lumbered away to the couch and sat down, breathing heavily and leaving Candelabra to improvise with increasing confidence, they began to think it sounded almost acceptable.
"We'll work out some harmonies, Miss," said Valentina gleefully. "Have you got any music paper?"
"You can get some from the school office later in the morning," said Angelica eagerly. "For the rest of the day, you can just think about them in your heads, okay?"
"Okay."
"All right!"
"All right!"
"Now, perhaps you'll leave me alone to get my breakfast. I had a disturbed night, I'm afraid. It's so quiet out here in the woods, the clock wakes me up every hour..."
"Every hour, on the hour..." sang Valentina.
"Busty-Busty-Boogie Ninety-Six-Point-Twooooooo," trilled Helvetica.
"Air Fairm," the other two girls obliged dutifully.
"I think Miss Grimbo wants us to leave," said Valentina, gathering up her scribbled sheets of paper and stuffing them in her carrier bag.
"What's in all those bags?" Angelica asked, curious despite herself.
"Our bras. We came out in a bit of a hurry, but we thought there might be teachers about later, on the way back, so we brought our bras with us."
"And panties," said Helvetica, delving into her own carrier bag and waving something lacy and decidedly non-St Cat's standard in the air. "We'd better put our bras on now, girls," she said sadly. "There's bound to be teachers on the prowl. It must be nearly eight o' clock."
The quadrangle clock confirmed her estimate. The girls clapped their hands over their ears until it finished chiming, then they fished a variety of ScatBras out of their bags and began fighting their way out of their nighties with varying degrees of concealment.
Angelica didn't know which way to look. Even so, she couldn't take her eyes off Helvetica. The girl's bust was immense, far bigger than she had been when she was leading the St Cat's Junior Netball team to a string of resounding victories. Valentina, too, seemed to have increased in size. And all five of them had a remarkable puffiness around the moons that, according to general opinion around the school, was the first sign of imminent and probably massive expansion. Everybody said so, girls and teachers alike.
They'd been right in her own case: her moons had become enormous before her breasts had started ballooning like this. Worryingly, the things were still enormous. Was this growth going to continue?
The girls put themselves away and patted their well-filled bras contentedly. Angelica began to shepherd them to the door. "See you tomorrow and we'll try it again with the piano on Tuesday evening. Thanks, girls!"
The door finally closed and she leaned against it. Beneath her nightie, her breasts settled ponderously against her thighs. It took a considerable effort to get herself in motion and out into the kitchen. She knew she ought to make something fairly insubstantial, but twenty minutes later she sat down to a huge plate of waffles, bacon and eggs, with tomatoes, mushrooms and several thick slices of toast. Whoever had stocked the larder had filled the fridge as well. And Angelica had never felt so starving in her life.
"She's gigantic!" Helvetica led the way into the lab block and up the stairs to the dormitory floor. "I hate to think how much she's grown since yesterday."
"Must be a foot at least," said Valentina. "They're right down to below her pussy now!"
The other three girls looked at them strangely. "But she's always had huge boobies," said Candelabra.
Helvetica reached the top of the stairs and turned round. "Big, yeah, but not that big." She was puffing with the effort.
"Yes, she has."
There was no answer to it. The girls were utterly convinced that Miss Grimbo had always been as big as she was this morning. Either that or very close to it.
"I suppose Helvetica has always been as big as she is now?" Valentina asked them.
"Silly!"
"You're so funny, Tina!"
"Of course not! Helvetica's different, isn't she? She's a girl! Girls are supposed to grow. It's what they do."
Helvetica looked at Valentina and they exchanged shrugs.
"I don't do house calls," Clit snapped at the phone. "Especially on a Sunday morning." She made to put the phone down, then stopped. "How big did you say?"
She listened with increasing interest, moving around the bra manufacturing facility, collecting bits and pieces: her note pad, a pencil, three tape measures of different lengths, scraps of elastic and material. Putting down the phone at last, she tucked half a roll of industrial paper towel under her arm and stepped out into the quad, locking the door behind her. Then she set off, round the corner of the building, out the back past Jeremy's shed, and into the woods.
The Wendy House door opened immediately before she could even knock. It closed behind her and the bolts slid shut. Angelica was in the shadows.
"Come on out and let's have a look at you, then! We haven't got all morning. I've got to get down to the pub before it opens at ten. Bloody Nora! What the fuck have you been eating?"
Angelica tried to push the breakfast tray out of sight. Too late. "I was hungry," she explained lamely. "But I've been getting big like this for days. I only felt hungry last night and again this morning. Starving."
Clit walked round her in a circle. She said nothing for three laps of the course. "Shit," she said at last. "Is that all you, right down there?"
Angelica nodded.
"I can't measure you properly in here. We'll need my special table. It will take a couple of hours. I'll need to phone the pub and tell them I'll be late this morning. They'll be worried if I don't turn up. Now, can you still walk?"
"Of course I can walk!" Angelica lumbered across the room and picked up a T-shirt from the back of a chair. The label said it was Extremely Large, but she had her doubts about whether it would fit around her bosom. "I'm not an invalid. It's just uncomfortable, is all."
"Uncomfortable! Uncomfortable, she says!" Clit raised her eyes to the heavens. "She's uncomfortable. She's walking around the house with her tits halfway to her knees and no bra and she reckons she's uncomfortable!"
If anyone up there was listening, there was no reply. Sunday mornings are a busy time, of course.
"I'd get you taken over there in the minibus, but Jeremy seems to have gone out already. We'll have to walk. Take your time. Stop for a rest whenever you feel like it. Now, what are you going to wear? Jeans are okay, but that T-shirt is far too small. You'll be falling out the bottom of it. Is the phone working?"
"I think..."
Clit snatched it up and tapped out a number. "Hello? Hello? It's me. Go up the ladder in the workroom and bring me one of the boxes marked 'Scats — Gruntworthy'. I'm over in the Wendy House. Yes, the Wendy House. W - E - N - D... Yes, Wendy House. I don't know why they call it that, damn it. Just bring it, okay?" She slammed down the handset. "You just can't get the staff these days."
"Let's try that last bit again. From 'St Catherine's, flower of England's girlhood.'" Valentina cleared her throat and hummed an arbitrary note.
Candelabra shook her head. "It's higher than that," she said, emitting a note half an octave further up the scale.
"How do you know?"
"I've got perfect pitch. It's in the same key as the quadrangle clock."
Right on cue, the clock shattered the silence, nine times. The windows stopped rattling after a while.
"I'd swear that thing's getting louder," said Helvetica.
"See?" Candelabra warbled a few bars in her original key. Valentina had serious doubts about her ability to reach the top notes without busting her bra.
"Who wrote these stupid words, anyway," she said, to divert attention.
"They're the school song. It's hundreds of years old."
"About time they changed it, then."
"Miss Grimbo didn't say we could change it," said Candelabra, deeply shocked. " It's a time-honoured tradition, the school song. We can't change the words. Nor the tune, either. She just said we could liven it up a bit."
"Let's listen to some songs on the radio," suggested Helvetica, "and see if we can get any ideas."
Candelabra looked horrified. "You can't borrow other people's tunes! We'd get taken to court."
"We don't want to borrow a whole tune." Helvetica found a station and cranked up the volume until the furniture in the dorm began to vibrate in sympathy. Girls wrapped pillows round their heads and dived beneath the bedclothes. "How about this one?" She began to sway to the beat of the intro to a popular song of the moment. "It's up to number three this week," she bellowed over the din. "Sha-la-la-la-la..."
The others watched Helvetica with concern as her movements became more extreme. Miraculously, her breasts stayed inside her bra but it was a close thing. She stopped, panting heavily, after the chorus.
"We could do something like that," she said.
"I dunno." Candelabra sounded doubtful. "It wouldn't fit very well."
Helvetica finished redistributing her bulk in her bra cups. "Fuck me," she remarked, steadying her swaying mountains. "Talk about fitting very well! I'm getting huge. I'm going to have to measure myself again."
"Maybe we could change the tune a little bit," Valentina suggested desperately. "Then the other girls could be sort of like a backing group. We could teach them to do a sha-la-la-la-la kind of noise, while the rest of us sing the words of the song. If we cut out one or two of the extra words, it ought to fit quite well." She seized her pen and began riffling through sheets of paper, editing the traditional words of Sint Ketherin's For Evah with cavalier boldness. "There, let's try this..." She looked hopefully at Helvetica, then lowered her handful of papers with an exasperated air. "What are you doing?"
"I've got to get this bra off," said Helvetica, fidgeting behind her back. "It's so tight! It's nearly cutting me in half!"
Valentina sighed. "Okay, let's knock it off for now, girls. We'll have another go at the song this afternoon. I've got to help Vets with her underwear."
The rest of the choir recognised the voice of authority. They also recognised the fact that if Valentina didn't get Helvetica into bed within twenty seconds, there was going to be an explosion.
"Come on, Candy, we're going to be in the way."
They gathered up their belongings and edged away, anxious not to cramp Valentina's style yet desperate to be allowed to watch. At that moment, Helvetica's struggles with her bra brought success. She wrenched it off and unlooped herself from the broad shoulder straps.
"Here you are. Who wants a bra? It will never fit me again!" She tossed the offending item casually to the three reluctantly retreating girls. Candelabra caught it deftly in her pianist's hands.
"Wow! Can we have it, Vets?"
The other two gathered round eagerly.
"It's huge!"
"It's still too small for Helvetica!"
"Wow, yeah!"
"And it's still warm!"
"Let's have a feel!"
"No, it's mine." Candelabra twisted free from the clutching girls and bore her prize away. "She gave it to me."
"Come on, Can, we only want to feel it."
"And play with it. I've got some balloons in my drawer, we could..."
"Balloons?" Candelabra stopped, still clutching the bra. "How many?"
"At least two. We could fill them with water and take it in turns to wear it."
They had found Candelabra's Achilles Heel. "I baggies first go."
"All right, then. You go out to the bogs, and I'll find the balloons..."
Helvetica sat on her bed and watched them run off. "Kids! Shit, you'd think they'd never seen a bra before."
Valentina grinned lewdly. "They probably haven't, not as big as that one. Not close enough to get their hands on it, anyway."
"I'm gonna need another one tomorrow."
"I'll come with you to Miss Clit's."
"Will she have one to fit me, do you think?"
"Sure to. You're huge, but not that huge. As long as she can find one to fit your moons. You might get a FreeTips!"
"I dunno about those things. My moons are so sensitive, it would make me come the whole time, feeling my blouse rubbing against them. Woo-woo-woo-woo!" She drew her feet up in front of her, cross-legged like a tailor, rocking gently backwards and forwards. At each forward movement, her breasts squished together between her knees, forcing her absurdly plump moons into even more prominence.
"Vets! They're so swollen!"
"Tell me about it!"
"All right. But I'm going to cream your boobies with some nice cool cream to stop them getting overheated. Vetsy would like that wouldn't she?"
Helvetica whimpered and nodded.
"Good!" Valentina lugged a brand new tub of Puff out of her wardrobe and dumped it on Helvetica's bed, grunting as she prised off the lid. Then she clambered on to the bed and sat facing her friend in the same cross-legged pose. "Now! Are you sitting comfortably? Then I'll begin."
Helvetica giggled, and Valentina almost lost it before she started.
"Once upon a time, there was a girl called Vets, who was ever so ever so good at sports and games. So good that all the girls loved her at school and used to wet their little knickers in bed, thinking about Vets every night." Valentina dipped three fingers into the tub and sniffed at it cautiously before breaking out into a happy grin. "It's the good stuff," she giggled, and applied a heavy splodge to each of Helvetica's quivering moons. The nipples sprang to attention, growing before her very eyes.
"Tina! No! Go on with the story."
Valentina rubbed the two moons, one with each hand, feeling the fat crinkly nipples tracing patterns across her palms, like lovers' fingers. She had to think carefully before she could remember where she had got to in her story. "But Vets was only a little girl, and she started growing boobies."
"Like little girls do..."
" Little girls do. And they got bigger and bigger and bigger, until they were so much bigger even than her bestest, bestest friend's, it made her bestest friend all soggy just looking at them." Valentina's voice had become husky and quivery. Her hands had wandered up the sides of Helvetica's taut breasts, up the sides and over the top, then down the sides and underneath...
"Tina...?"
"And they carried on growing and growing and growing! Soon, they were the biggest in her whole class at school, and poor Vets couldn't play sports and games any more, but she could still do lots and lots and lots of other things, so it was all right." She wriggled her bottom closer so their knees touched, then reached out and placed her hands on Helvetica's shoulders. The space between them was filled to overflowing with their breasts.
"Tee...?"
"I want you to grow for ever, Vets. When you're the biggest girl in the whole world, will you still love me?" She slipped her hands round the back of Helvetica's neck and drew her closer. The space between them had ceased to be space. Exuberant girl-breast spilled out wherever it could.
"Of course!"
Somehow, their lips met, but only just.
"Sint Ketherin's For Evah!"
The remnants of the Junior Choir came marching back into the dorm, Candelabra flanked by her two companions. Beneath her nightie bounced the biggest pair of breasts she had ever dared to imagine herself growing.
"Woooh, look!"
"The young lovers!"
"They're getting off!"
"Oh, yuck! It's disgusting!"
But they gathered round Helvetica's bed to watch as Valentina finally broke the kiss and sat back with a dreamy expression on her face. The lovers looked round and took in their surroundings again. Quickly, Valentina covered the tub of Puff with Helvetica's discarded nightdress.
"Eeek! She's got tits!" Helvetica pointed a trembling finger at Candelabra.
"Whaddya think of them?" Candelabra took a deep breath and thrust out her chest. Her nightie creaked ominously. She held the pose for a second, then admitted defeat, her shoulders sagging and her bosom collapsing on to her tummy as she wilted. "They're so heavy. Are yours as heavy as this?" She tried again to hold herself up straight, then gave up. "How can you even walk?"
"She's a big, strong, sporty girl," said Valentina. "Not a little piano-playing nerd. Let's have a look at them, anyway. How much water did you use?"
"We filled them up for her."
"We used warm water."
"They're huge," Candelabra confirmed, hoisting her nightie over her head and revealing Helvetica's ex-bra laden with two wobbling balloons, one red, one green.
"It's hard getting them the same size."
"We had to keep making each one bigger than the other."
"Then when they were full, we couldn't pick them up."
"They flop around all over the place."
"They were ever so heavy!"
"And so wobbly!"
"We were scared they were going to burst..."
"And go bang and flood the whole bogs..."
"And there'd be like water flowing down the stairs into the lab..."
"Gallons and gallons and gallons of it..."
"So we had to let the water out and put them in the bra."
"Then fill them up again."
"They're nearly the same size now."
Valentina, Helvetica and Candelabra's eyes flickered from one to the other of the girls throughout this commentary. They found it almost hypnotic, and quite tiring.
Mercifully, the story stopped, the narrators out of breath.
"Are real ones as heavy as this, Vets?" Candelabra asked again.
"Oooh, yes!" Valentina was enjoying it. "Heavier, in fact. And it's worse, 'cos Helvetica can't just take hers off when she's finished playing with them. And she's getting bigger all the time. You've only just about filled that ScatBra up, hers are bigger than yours. She was nearly bursting that bra!"
"Stop it!" Candelabra was close to tears. "I don't want big tits any more."
Valentina cackled like an old witch. "You'd better get used to them. You said your sisters and your Mum have got huge ones. That's why you've come to St Cat's, because huge tits run in your family."
"No! I'm taking them off! Help me get this bra off, you two. It's your turn to wear it." She put her hands behind her and tried to reach the fastenings, but the weight of the water balloons dragged her off balance. The girls watched her with interest as she staggered in little uncontrolled rushes around the dorm. "I can't reach it," she wailed.
"You'll soon get used to them, Can!"
"You can wear them all day. It's Sunday, so nobody will notice."
"Yes, yes!"
Candelabra's two wardrobe assistants hopped up and down with excitement.
"Can we borrow a big T-shirt, Vets?"
"Or a sweater?"
"We can dress her up and take her to breakfast, and everybody can see her."
"They'll all think she's grown."
"Overnight!"
"Then we can take her to Miss Clit's and get her measured."
"Yeah," said Valentina. "You just do that. It will be your last act on this earth."
"Maybe not Miss Clit's, then. But we can still take her to the restaurant."
"C'mon, Candy. Let's find you a skirt. Have you got a shirt for her, Vets?"
"In my wardrobe." Helvetica waved a hand airily. "Don't take my best ones," she added as the girls began rummaging with enthusiasm. "And don't go making them all wet."
"YOU HAVE TO CLIMB up there," said Clit, her voice shaking.
"Up that ladder?" Angelica stared at the ladder which led up the side of the ridiculously tall table in the bra measuring facility. "I can't climb a ladder, not with these things."
Clit had to acknowledge yet again the major design flaw with her measuring table. What was the use of having a table with nine feet long legs, specially designed and created to allow vast-breasted girls to dangle their breasts over the edge so she could measure them properly? What was the use of it if it needed the girl to climb a ladder to get on to the table, and girls of the size Clit had in mind couldn't be expected to climb ladders? She'd told Jeremy about it and he'd only laughed and told her she'd be wanting a special crane next.
"I'll help you get up there," she offered without much hope. "If I get up on top first, I can reach down and help you up..."
"Man, I dunno..."
"Please!"
Clit looked so pitiful, Angelica felt she had to make the effort, at least. She might be able to get up there. Why she would need to was another matter entirely. Why couldn't Clit just measure her in the usual way?
"I can't measure you the usual way," said Clit, chewing her lips and flapping her hands helplessly. She clutched at her groin briefly, then flitted across to the ladder and back, several times, like a movie star sheepdog trying to persuade a dumb human film actor to follow it to the scene of a disaster. "Please, Angelica!"
"Oh, all right. I'll give it a try."
Clit shot up the ladder like a squirrel and perched on top of the table looking down. She offered a slender hand. "Come on up. Just hold my hand. You won't fall off. Here!" She had an inspiration and scuttled back down the ladder again, dashing over to the storage shelves and returning with a length of rope. Angelica found herself wondering quite why there should be a rope in a bra-facility.
The rope was thick and soft, made of some slippery, silky material. Clit passed it around Angelica's waist and knotted it behind her back somewhere. Then she passed the long end up and over one shoulder, down between her breasts and round her waist to the back again.
"Eeek!" Angelica yelped, as Clit passed the rope between her legs, appeared in front of her again and threaded the rope up between her breasts and over the other shoulder, down the back to her waist and began fiddling interminably behind her back.
"There," she said at length, and set off up the ladder again with the end of the rope in her hand. "Wait till I'm up here, then start climbing. Hang on a sec."
Angelica stood at the foot of the ladder, trussed like a turkey.
"Belay," shouted Clit, and her little face appeared over the edge of the table. "Come on up, I've got you."
"Okay!"
"No, you're supposed to shout 'climbing'."
"Climbing," sang out Angelica, feeling with her foot for the first rung. "Ouch." She tried again. Her shin hurt. Ah, there it was. She put her weight on the bottom step and felt the rope come tight. It was tightest of all between her legs. Unnerving, but somehow not entirely unpleasant. "Climb-eeng!" she yipped again as Clit hauled enthusiastically on the rope. The woman must be extraordinarily strong. She was almost dangling like a puppet on her silken thread as she clung to the cold iron ladder with trembling hands, fumbling for the rungs with her toes. Three! Four!
"Nearly there," said Clit's voice, surprisingly close. "There!"
And suddenly there was no more ladder in front of her, just a flat topped table and a warm, squirming corsetière underneath her. "Oh, pardon me!"
"It's quite all right." Clit sounded strangely muffled. It took her some time to make her way out from underneath. Angelica looked at her little red face.
"I didn't mean to land on top of you."
"It's okay." Clit shuddered. "Any time, honestly. Let's get all this rope off you." She sounded almost regretful.
It took about twenty minutes, accompanied by an unnecessary amount of aroused moaning from Clit. At last, she laid the rope down in a neat coil on the table top and rubbed her hands together, then began flexing her long bony fingers with little cracking noises. "We're all ready. Let's do some measuring!"
"Tell you what!" Valentina clicked the lid of the Puff tub shut and thrust it out of sight in her wardrobe. "We don't have to wait until tomorrow. Clit's always so busy on a Monday morning. Let's go and see her now!"
"Now? On a Sunday? She'd kill us."
"No she won't. You know what she's like. She'll scream her head off, but once she gets a look at your tits, she won't be able to keep her hands off them."
"After breakfast, then...?"
"No, let's go now. Skip breakfast. I thought maybe we could catch the bus into Borcester later. We could get something to eat there."
Helvetica gasped. "Tina! We're not allowed! If anybody sees us, we'll be sorting smelly panties for the rest of our lives!"
"Look at us! With your tits, who's going to believe we're Juniors. Even mine are fifty-twos." Valentina blushed prettily. "Maybe even fifty-threes. There's no teachers around. We can sneak out, catch the bus, get to Borcester, have a little walk round. We might meet some boys..."
"Boys? Yuck!"
"Well, okay, but there's no harm in looking at a few. If we hang around by the river, there's always boys down there on Sundays. Or we can watch the football..."
"Football? Who wants to waste time watching football?"
"We don't want to watch the game. We'd be watching the boys' bums."
"Their bums?" Helvetica was genuinely surprised. She wrinkled her nose in distaste. "What for?"
"You mean you don't know? Shit, you really don't, do you! We're going to complete your education, kid! Come on. Let's go and see Miss Clit, get her to measure you, then we'll get dressed up and catch the bus. I'll buy the tickets. And we can drop into the Riverside Café and have a cream cake."
"With chocolate?"
"If you like."
"What should I wear to see Miss Clit?"
"Cee," I said. "Since it's such a nice morning, how about if we take a walk out and have a look at the new road?"
Cee pulled her head up from beneath the bed covers. She looked at me and went pale. "Walk? You?"
"I can walk. I'm not a wheelbarrow case yet, thank you very much."
"You couldn't drive one, that's why. You'd never get five yards without crashing into some poor innocent girl."
I struggled with the alien concept of an innocent St Cat's girl, but had to give up. "I can hoist my bra up tight. It's only a mile or so to Molly's concrete block, isn't it?"
"A mile, across a sea of mud. It's like the Somme out there, if you remember your 20th Century History."
"It hasn't rained for a day at least. We can wear our wellies. Come on, Cee, don't be a misery-poo. We could take some of the girls."
"Girls? What for?"
"For company. They're fun to have around. And I like looking at them, the way they wobble when they walk. They get bored on Sundays. We could borrow some girls from each class. The biggest ones, of course..."
Corinne gave me one of her sighs of resignation. "Let's have breakfast first. God knows when our next meal will be."
"What's happening in there?" Let me get near the window.
"It's amazing!" Valentina pressed her nose to the glass. "Miss Grimbo's up on that big tall table..."
"The one with the iron ladder?"
"Yeah."
"What for?"
"You should see what they're doing!"
"I can't, you won't let me look."
"All right, then. Just a quickie. And you've got to tell me what happens."
Helvetica crouched slightly and approached the window. She stopped and backed away again, then came in for another approach. Again she stopped. "I can't get close enough. My tits are squashed against the wall."
"Shee-it, Vets! You're huge! Try lowering your bra a little."
"I'm not wearing a fucking bra, clever-clogs. That's why we're here, remember?"
Valentina remembered, and was immediately afflicted by acute jeans crotch awareness. She felt the area cautiously and sniffed at her fingers. "You'd better let me look, then. And I'll tell you what they're getting up to."
There was no alternative. Helvetica backed away reluctantly and let Valentina take her place. "Wow!"
"What is it?"
"You wouldn't believe...!"
"I might, if you told me..."
"Shit, Vets! She's got her tits out..."
"Who has?"
"Miss Grimbo. And she's lying on the table."
"The big tall table?"
"Yeah, and she's ... bloody hell!"
"That's it!" Helvetica had heard enough and seen nothing. "I'm knocking on the door!"
"Not yet, Vets!"
Too late. Helvetica took several large strides to the door of the bra facility and pounded on the wood.
"Fuck off," came a banshee shriek from within. Then a pause. "Who is it?"
"Me, Miss Clitress. Helvetica Bold." Helvetica caught a glimpse of Valentina mouthing something at her. "And Valentina Nightingale."
"What do you want? It's Sunday."
"I've had an accident, Miss Clitress. In my bra." Over by the window, Valentina heard the words and had an accident herself. In her jeans.
There was a silence, during which Valentina edged away from her window and joined Helvetica at the door, feeling distinctly soggy down below. And as if she didn't have enough fluid problems, her milk was coming in. She stood close to Helvetica, moaning gently, and rested her head on her friend's shoulder, quivering with lust.
"I won't be a minute," Clit said, leaning back and trying to see Angelica's face as she lay on top of the measuring table. A hand appeared over the edge and finger-waved at her. "I'll just see what these girls want. It must be an emergency if they're coming to see me on a Sunday. If it's not," Clit's voice rose, "I'll skin the little fuckers alive."
The door was flung open. Valentina took half a pace back. Miss Clitress looked even more forbidding than usual. Suddenly, it didn't seem like such a brilliant idea. But Miss Clitress was looking at Helvetica, and her jaw was dropping open in slow motion.
Clit stepped back and held the door wider. She said nothing, but the girls trooped in. Still, Clit said nothing, but pointed wordlessly at Helvetica's bosom and looked at the girls in turn. Valentina recovered her wits first.
"She grew again, Miss Clit. And we remembered what you told us when we first arrived, about always making sure we always wore well-fitting foundation garments, and how your door was always open."
"That's right." Clit found her tongue. "You did the right thing, coming to see me. Unfortunately," she shook her head as if to clear it. "Unfortunately, I am in the middle of something urgent. I must ask you to come back later. How about three o' clock this afternoon?"
"It's okay, Miss Clit," said Valentina. "We'll wait." She looked round and spotted a chair, spun it round and sat astride it, looking up at the tall table as if it might be a cabaret act about to start.
Helvetica followed her example, but found her breasts got very much in the way when she tried to straddle the chair. With a feeling of lost cred, she sat down more conventionally.
Clit looked at them helplessly. Then with a muttered 'Excuse me,' she quickly climbed the metal ladder and whispered to Angelica on the measuring table. "What can we do?"
"Shit, man, I dunno. I can't see them. Who are they?"
"Helvetica Bold and Valentina Nightingale. Emergency. Helvetica needs a new bra. Valentina needs a change of knickers."
"Those two? Sheesh, they've seen me in less than I'm wearing now. Whyn't you do what you were going to do with me, then get on and fit Helvetica?"
"You mean you don't mind them seeing you hanging ... with your tits ... your breasts hanging over the edge of the table?"
"They're not going to go away, Clit! They might as well watch. You did say I have to dangle for ten minutes before you can measure me, didn't you?"
Clit moaned with lust again. "Yeah," she muttered softly.
"Okay. Let's get the show on the road. And while I'm dangling, you can measure Little Miss Bold down there."
Clit sighed, but couldn't think of any argument against it. "Okay. You need to get on your hands and knees, and take your T-shirt off and loosen your bra."
"Like this?" Angelica knelt on the table top.
"Hi, Miss!" The girls waved to her as her face appeared."
"Morning, girls! We meet again so soon, huh?"
"Yes, Miss," Valentina said cheerily. "What are you doing?"
"Getting measured for my new bra."
"Wow! Whose is that one you're wearing, Miss?"
"It's one of Miss Gruntworthy's."
"She's rilly-rilly growing," Valentina whispered out of the corner of her mouth to Helvetica. "The colour rilly-rilly suits you, Miss!"
"I was wondering if there wasn't a bit too much yellow in it. Not that it shows when I have a T-shirt on, of course."
"Shuffle closer to the edge of the table," said Clit. "Then when you're right at the edge, slip your bra off your shoulders, and start lowering your boobs until they're hanging free. Not too fast, mind, or it will hurt."
"Like this? How much farther?"
"That's far enough. Now lower away, gently."
Helvetica and Valentina stared, fascinated. It was a bizarre scene. Far above their heads, a beautiful teacher was dangling a massive pair of breasts in the sack-like cups of a borrowed brassière, gradually lowering them to their fullest extent. They stopped, swaying ponderously together like chocolate church bells capped with rich black moons the size of honeydew melons. Each mammoth breast was as big as a ... no, they tried to think of something to compare them with, but nothing came to mind. Valentina thought of beanbags. Helvetica thought of those large sacks of stuff her uncle always had around his farm.
"Now you can lie down on your tummy," called Clit, almost choking on the words. "And just let them dangle like that for a while. Rest your elbows on those two extensions. That's right."
"Ten minutes?" Angelica gasped. "Ow-ow-ow-ouch! They'll be stretched down to the floor by then. Hurry up and measure those girls."
Clit backed down the ladder and wandered numbly over to the girls, still looking back over her shoulder at the awesome sight behind her.
"I wish I could go on that table, Miss Clit," said Helvetica.
"I've told her she'll be big enough to go on there one day, Miss Clit," said Valentina by way of encouragement. "But she's not doing too badly for a First Former, is she?" The girl shuddered again and squirmed on her chair in obvious discomfort.
"Are you still lactating, Valentina?" Clit asked sharply.
"Yes."
"And you still get orgasms when you..."
"Mmmm, yes!" Valentina demonstrated the fact, thankfully without too much noise.
Helvetica was watching her friend nervously. She glanced back up at Miss Grimbo's table. The teacher seemed at peace with the world, as much as anyone could be at peace in her position, with her breasts dangling over the edge of a table nine feet off the floor. They hung at least halfway to the floor, Helvetica noted, trying to visualise a tape measure passing all the way round Miss Grimbo's bust. It came to such an improbable number that Helvetica lost faith in her mathematics and gave up.
"Stand up, girl! I can't measure you sitting down there."
Helvetica stood up, and Clit prodded her with a finger.
"Ouch!"
"They're real, Miss Clit," Valentina said helpfully.
"Get your T-shirt off and let's have a look at them."
Valentina was torn between the dangling and ever-lengthening Miss Grimbo and a fresh look at her expanding girlfriend. Helvetica was closer. She settled for her. Wow! Surely not even the very latest Puff, the good stuff, didn't work as fast as that?
"How long have they been this big, Helvetica?"
"This morning. I'm always a bit bigger in the mornings, these days. But after we'd been over to the Wendy House, we came back and my bra was so tight I had to take it off and give it to the kids to play with..."
"The kids?"
"The little girls in our class, Miss Clit," said Valentina. "They fill the cups with water balloons and..."
Clit whirled her tape measure around her head like a bullwhip. The last thing she needed right now was to hear of horny Juniors stuffing their bras with water balloons. "Hold your arms up! And your breasts. Just for a moment, up out of the way. Good, thanks."
She turned and scrawled the figures 31 on the blackboard, underlining them heavily three times, then lowered the tape to Helvetica's waist.
"It's only my bra that's too small, Miss Clitress, not my jeans."
"Shush, girl." Clit wrote 25 and slid the tape lower. She pursed her lips critically. "Thirty-nine?"
"Yes, Miss Clit." Helvetica blushed prettily. "But I've got very muscular thighs and bottom."
Clit shook her head in deep sorrow. "Now your bust. You can breathe if you like."
Helvetica breathed.
"Fuck me, girl! That's ridiculous." Clit turned the tape over and tried again. "Who's your Form Head?"
"Sally Chung, Miss Clit. She's..."
"I know all about Sally, thank you."
They all fell silent and listened intently. Distant gunshots carried faintly to their relieved ears. Sally was still alive and well and shooting.
"You may have a little ceremony coming up in a week or so. Sally had better finish her chase by then. You'll be overtaking her within a week. Maybe four or five days. It's these moons of yours. I've never seen a pair like them. Have you, Miss Grimbeau? Apart from your own, that is?"
"Sorry?" Angelica said. "I wasn't paying attention. What was the question again?"
"Your moons. And Helvetica's. I was asking... oh, never mind."
"Sixty-three inches! Wow, Vets!"
"It feels like sixty-three feet in this bra." Helvetica lurched out of control and Valentina had to take an arm to get her back on course again.
"You'll get used to it. A new bra always does that. But sixty-three inches! Shit!"
"Stop it!" Helvetica blushed prettily. "I've only grown a little bit!"
"Yeah, only about seven inches since this morning!"
"Maybe I underestimated this morning. I did feel a bit full when we were over in the Wendy House. I was probably about sixty inches by then."
"Oh, so you've only grown two inches in two hours. That's a relief. I was getting worried about you. Shit, Vet's, if you carried on at that rate, you'd be up to a hundred by tomorrow night!"
"Don't, Tee! When you go on like that, it makes me worried, too. I think I've stopped growing for a while, anyway. They feel quite relaxed right now."
"That's that new ScatBra. Right, be careful going up the stairs. Then we've got to get all dressed up ready to catch the bus to Borcester."
"You're not still thinking of going to Borcester, Tee? Not now I've grown as big as this?"
"Why not? Don't you want to show them off to the boys?"
"Not really. I'd rather get used to walking with them first."
"How can you get used to walking with them if you don't walk? Come on!" They reached the top of the stairs, panting heavily.
"I don't know, Tee..."
"Cream cake, Helvetica!"
"Tee...!"
"And chocolate profiteroles, Helvetica."
"I don't..."
"And some of those fluffy things with chocolate flake on top..."
"So which bus are we catching?"
"Do you always leave girls dangling for ten minutes, Clit? It's cruel and unusual punishment."
Clit flushed. "Actually, I haven't used this measuring table before."
"You haven't? You don't mean I'm the biggest girl at St Cat's? Some of the wheelbarrow girls are a lot bigger than me!"
So far! "It's not that. It's just that I'd never worked out a way of getting them up the ladder until now. We did the table top method using the edge of the workbench. Some of the girls dangled all the way down to the floor, but by putting them in the right place, we could open that trapdoor and let them dangle into the basement."
"Why couldn't you have done that for me, instead of all that mountaineering stuff with the ropes and all?"
"I couldn't measure a teacher with her breasts dangling through the floor!" Clit was clearly shocked by the very idea.
Angelica giggled, the movement being transmitted down to the bulbous black nipple-crowned tips of her whopping danglers and amplified in the process. "You'd better get on and measure me now. I must have stopped stretching by now. What's that for?" Angelica was goggling at the fat roll of adhesive tape in Clit's hand. She ripped off a number of short lengths and stuck them to the edge of the work bench.
"To hold the tape measure. You won't be able to help me, and I'll be too busy up and down the step-ladder to hold the tape myself. So I'll have to stick it to you. It will peel off easily enough afterwards. You're not hairy."
Clit fetched the step-ladder and erected it next to the table, climbing to the top and attaching the end of the tape measure to the middle of Angelica's back. Then down again, moving the steps to one side and sticking the tape at several points down the side of her left breast. More sticky tape next to the nipple, then across the intervening space to the other one, being careful not to pull the breasts closer together with the tape. Then back up the other side until Clit was ready, with an air of triumph, to complete her circumnavigation of Miss Grimbeau.
Angelica's twin behemoths wobbled mightily. One by one, the strips of tape detached themselves from her skin. Clit fumbled with the tape measure, frantically trying to see the numbers while holding the end which was trying to unstick itself from Angelica's back.
"No! Don't touch me there! Not there, Clit! No-oooo!"
Clit made one last despairing heave, but she saw the end of the tape snatched away from her grasping fingers. "Ooo-oh...!"
"Clit, where are you going?"
Clit didn't answer. She was too busy hanging on. The step ladder tottered beneath her dancing feet, then fell over and crashed to the floor, leaving Miss Clitress hanging from the edge of the measuring table by her hands. "Eeek!"
"What's up? Clit, are you gonna stop messing about and finish taking these measurements? What was it, anyways?"
"I don't know," Clit panted, sneaking a glance at the floor. It seemed a long way down. "The tape disappeared before I could get a look at at it."
"You must have some idea. Ninety? One hundred?"
"More than that. Wooo-ooh!"
"Get on with it, then. This is no time for guessing games."
"I can't. The step ladder's gone."
"Gone?"
"It fell over. I'm hanging."
"Let go, then."
"It's miles down there."
Angelica was losing patience with this whole damn-fool business. "Clit. Either you stop fucking around or I'll catch the bus to Borcester and see a proper bra maker. Now are you going to do this little job or not?"
Clit let go. Her feet hit the ground and she sat down painfully. It seemed like an appropriate time to have a good cry. Then she looked up and saw Angelica's monsters still swaying above her head. The tape measure fell in loops, still sttached to one nipple.
"I'll have to try another method. Hang on. I mean, don't go away..."
"Clit! You have thirty seconds, then I'm getting down off this ridiculous contraption. It's about time Miss Gruntworthy heard about this. She will have something to say about it, for sure."
"There's a light on in the bra facility," I said. "That's strange. Clit usually goes up to the pub on Sunday mornings."
"Maybe she's stocktaking," said Corinne. She wasn't in a good mood with me, I could tell. She stood stubbornly with her hands on her hips and her toes turned slightly inwards.
"Let's go in. She might have some girls in there with her." I was still keen on taking a few girls along on our little walk in the woods.
Corinne raised her eyes to the heavens. I hate it when she does that. It's so childish.
"Go on, then! Get it over with!"
There was no point in knocking. Clit would only tell us to fuck off. I turned the handle. The door opened.
I could try to describe the scene, but you wouldn't believe me. Here goes, anyway.
Clit has had this great big tall table built. Jeremy built it for her. God knows why it had to be nine feet tall, but it needs a ladder up the side.
Anyway, lying on top of this table...
No, I was right. You'd never believe me.
"There must be some girls we can borrow, Cee. Just half a dozen of the biggest." I was already off along the corridor, heading for the Middles Common Room. Corinne tagged along behind.
"This is getting beyond a joke, Shannie. I had no objection to coming with you on this stupid walk, but that was before you insisted on dragging half the school along with us. For company! For company, for Chrissakes! Why can't you just talk to me?"
"I don't want to talk to them, Cee. I just want to watch their big unfettered breasts bouncing around in their shirts. Especially after that quick look we got at Angelica in Clit's place. She was measuring Angelica. I wonder what size she is now. She looked huge. A pity we didn't get more than ten seconds..."
"Before Clitress threw us out, you mean. I don't know why you put up with it. You could have fired her long ago, the way she behaves. She's the rudest person in the whole world."
"She's so good at making bras, though. We'd never find another like her."
"You can say that again," Corinne muttered grimly, following me into the Common Room. It was empty. We tried the Thirds' dormitory. Not a living soul.
"Where are they all?"
"They must have seen us coming."
"No, hang on, there's somebody..."
I had seen two shadowy figures emerge from the First Form dormitory into the corridor. It was too dark to recognise them, but they didn't look like Juniors. Their busts were far too big for First Form girls. Just visiting, perhaps?
Corinne looked as if she had seen a ghost. "I thought I recognised those two," she said. "But it couldn't have been..."
We had reached the dorm and looked inside.
"They did come in here, didn't they?"
Corinne looked at me wide-eyed. "Of course. Where else would they have gone?"
"They're not in here now."
"I can see that. They must have gone straight through and out of the fire escape."
"That's against school rules, Cee," I said sternly.
"Since when did school rules stop it happening?" Corinne marched up to a group of Juniors playing Monopoly on one of the beds. "Did you see two girls come through here a moment ago?"
"Girls, Miss?" the Junior wrinkled her brow as if uncertain what girls might be.
"Big girls," I said. "With very big breasts. Very big indeed."
The little group of First Formers blushed prettily at my raunchy language.
"No, Miss Gruntworthy."
Corinne decided it was time to play the old-fashioned school-marm. "Stand up, you three, and face me."
Still blushing, the three girls stood up and shuffled over to stand in a line by the wall. They wore sloppy T-shirts and shorts, typical St Cat's girls dressed for the weekend. The third girl was a little slower taking her position, and she stood, shoulders bowed, slouching in an ungainly manner.
Corinne took a deep breath of disapproval. "Will you stand up straight, please! What's your name, girl?"
"C-Candelabra, Miss Meadowlark."
"Shoulders back, Candelabra. Tummy in, head up straight. That's bett..."
"You three," I said, making an instant headmistressly decision. "Get your outside clothes on at once. We're all going for a walk in the woods!"
CORINNE WASN'T SAYING much to me as we sploshed along the path between the wet bushes. The three girls walked on ahead, talking softly among themselves. Occasionally, one of them would glance back nervously at us. I gave her a smile of encouragement each time.
"What did you bring these kids along for, Shan?" Corinne hissed at last. I tried to decide if being hissed at was better or worse than the silent treatment.
"They looked lonely. Besides, young girls ought to get out in the fresh air, not sit around in stuffy dorms playing Monopoly. Not even Strip Monopoly, either."
"And...?"
"And what?"
"And one of them just happens to have enormous titties."
"That's nothing to do with it. It's a scurrilous suggestion. I must ask you to withdraw it at once..."
"The funny thing is," Corinne carried on, ducking to avoid a low branch dripping water and slime. "I'm sure she didn't have tits that big on Friday."
"Friday?"
"The girl Candelabra. I saw her on Friday with the rest of the Firsts. I had them for Bra Design Theory — 1948-1960. The Pointed Years. She was just an ordinary First Former, same as the others. When they all stripped off..."
"You what?"
"When they undressed..."
"Hang on! What do you mean? They took their clothes off? The whole class was naked?"
"Of course not! The very idea! I'm not some kind of pervert. Just their blouses and bras..."
"But that's terrible! You can't coerce Junior girls into undressing in class!"
"Coercion didn't come into it. I showed them a 1950's rocket nose-cone bra and they all wanted to try it on. They had their kit off in about five seconds flat. Well, perhaps not flat. You know what they're like..."
"Even Valentina and Helvetica?"
"Them, too. Not a chance they could fit into that bra, but they stripped off as well, just to be sociable."
"I wish you'd tell me when you're going to do this sort of thing, Cee. I like to keep my finger on things."
She looked at me strangely.
"Anyway," she said as we emerged into an open space. The sun sparkled down on us. "Anyway, Candelabra had the usual First Form B-cup puffies, but nothing else. She even tried the bra on."
"Don't be silly, look at her. She wouldn't even get her nipples into a 1950's bra."
"Exactly. Her moons would just about fit into the cups. It fitted perfectly. Moons was all she had. No tits to speak of at all."
The three girls had stopped and turned round. Ahead of them, a heaving sea of yellow mud lay unbroken as far as the eye could see.
"Are we going across that lot, Miss?" asked Candelabra.
I wanted to remove her natty waterproof jacket and gaze on her mighty swollen breasts. The jacket was certainly under some great stress. And the poor girl's posture was appalling, all round shoulders and slummocking. If she stood up proudly and stuck out her chest, she must have been more than fifty inches. Remarkable on a girl so petite and slender.
I looked at Corinne. Perhaps it was time to call a halt to this silly walk thing and go back to the school for a nice hot lunch. We could come out and have a look at the new road another day. Next year, perhaps.
"Of course we are, Candelabra," Corinne said firmly. "The mud won't be very deep. You'll find it doesn't even come up to your knees. It will be excellent character building for you. Candelabra will lead the way. The other two of you get ready to catch her if she falls over. A girl could easily drown in this mud and we wouldn't find the body until next summer.
The three Juniors went pale. Candelabra was starting to cry.
"Go on, girl," I snapped at her. "Do as Miss Meadowlark says! You rotten little bastard," I hissed at Corinne.
She grinned wickedly. "Whose idea was this anyway? You carry on, Shannie. I'll bring up the rear in case we lose anybody."
The Juniors were already setting off into the mud. I followed, being careful to walk, or wade, exactly in their tracks, in case there was a deeper patch. Not that there were any tracks to follow. The mud instantly resumed its sickly sheen as soon as the girls had passed. It was up to Candelabra's thighs. This was absolute madness. Manic giggles were now coming from the trio in front as they realised that not only was this crazy and dangerous, it was also fun!
"Good to see the girls enjoying themselves, Shannie! Keep up, keep up. Don't fall behind!"
I wiped a stray hair from my eyes and pressed on through the swamp. We were all going to die of malaria. There would be lots of explaining to do.
"Look, Miss!"
I hadn't seen it before, in my concentration on the task of placing one foot before the other. Some way ahead of us, silhouetted against the sun, was an ominous square shadow. We all stopped and stared. This was Molly Malone's infamous concrete block. There was something huddled on top, a bulky, shapeless figure, apparently watching our approach.
We came closer. Would the mysterious figure challenge us? "Hold it roight dere an' don't meuve."
Closer still. The block now cut off the sunshine. It was cold and sinister in its shade, and as close to it as we now were, we couldn't see on top of it any more.
"Morning, Miss!" piped a crystal St Cat's voice.
Corinne it was who replied. She was looking upwards. "Geraldine?" she said. "How long have you been up there?"
The silhouetted little face in its fashionable hood withdrew for a moment, then reappeared. "I just checked the chart, Miss. It was yesterday morning, Miss. This is Sunday, isn't it? One loses all track of time up here. Molly says she can't even remember what month it is."
"Molly?"
"Sorry, Miss. I mean Miss Malone. She told me to call her Molly since we're such good friends. I brought her some food, and we've been keeping each other warm. We've found some excellent ways of keeping each other warm, Miss! Molly's asleep at the moment. I think I've worn her out."
The juniors giggled.
"What are you three doing here?" asked Geraldine. "Wow! Candy! You've got tits! Congrats!"
This was an appalling situation. I drew Corinne to one side for an urgent conference.
"That kid's been up there with Malone, doing God-knows-what all night.!
"I suppose He does, yes. He'll find out for sure, when Molly goes to confession. The kid seems none the worse for her ordeal, anyway."
"Have you brought us any breakfast, Miss?"
"Of course we haven't brought you breakfast. This isn't a picnic! You get down off there at once."
"I can't, Miss. It's too high. Anyway, I'm locked on."
"You're what?"
"Locked on. It's what we call it when we're protesting. I'm chained to the block. They'll have to blow it apart with jelly, Molly says."
"They most certainly will not! What's she talking about?" I whispered to Corinne.
"Gelignite. Explosives. That's the only way they'll get rid of this monstrosity. It weighs a hundred and fifty tons, you know."
"I saw the news. I saw something else on the news, too. You up there! Geraldine, or whatever your stupid name is. What road?"
"What road, Miss?"
I swept my hand across the empty landscape. "The road isn't coming this way, is it? The roadbuilders have all gone."
"Molly says that isn't the point. She says when they pick up the tattered threads of flesh which is all that remains of our pathetic bodies, we will have made our gesture."
"The girl's mad, Cee!"
"That's what happens when you're on your own with Malone for a night."
The very thought of it made my flesh crawl.
"Miss?"
"Yes?" I was getting a neck-ache looking up at Geraldine.
"What's for lunch? In the restaurant?"
"The usual Sunday lunch. Roast beef and Yorkshire pudding. You've probably missed it by now. By the time you get down off that ridiculous block thing, they'll have finished serving."
"That's all right, Miss. We've still got nearly a whole apple left. Miss?"
She wanted to hold a conversation. "What is it this time?"
"Does Jeremy have a big cock, Miss?"
The juniors giggled again and blushed prettily.
"Does he what?"
"Does he have a big..."
"I heard you the first time! It is wholly inappropriate for Junior girls to see Mr Jeremy's cock. I mean his penis." That sounded even worse, somehow.
Geraldine sounded hurt and offended. "Oh, I've already seen it, Miss. That's not the problem. But you see, it's the only one I've ever seen, apart from my baby brother's. And Valentina's Arthur's, of course. Jeremy's is the only rilly-rilly grown-up one I've seen. So I wanted to know if his was a big one or not..."
I rounded on the giggling Juniors. "What are you three laughing at? You will write out one billion times, in your best handwriting, 'I Must Not Giggle At...'"
Corinne took me by the arm and led me firmly away. "Come on, Headmistress. It's time to get ourselves back to sanity and roast beef. Come on, you three."
"Wowee! That was close!"
"Are they following us? Can you see anyone?"
Valentina looked back over her shoulder as the bus jogged along the road. The pointy roof of the Wendy House glinted briefly in a shaft of sunlight before St Cat's was shut off from view by the bend in the road.
"It's okay. We made it."
"I'm all out of puff!"
"Puff?"
The girls giggled helplessly.
"You shouldn't have made me run, Tina. I'm not built for running any more."
"I never have been, but we had to run or we'd have missed the bus. We'd have made it easy if we hadn't nearly bumped into Miss Gruntworthy and Old Titlark."
"I banged my knee coming down that fire escape." Helvetica tried to examine her wounds, but her breasts were very much in the way.
"It's all right. You haven't ripped your jeans or anything. You're nearly bursting that sweater, though."
"And this T-shirt. And my new bra, too, by the feel of things. I'm so huge!"
Valentina bit her lip. "I know! You look incredible. We're gonna kill them in Borcester. The boys will be going wild."
"Are there any more Cat's girls on the bus, did you see?"
"None downstairs. I looked as we got on. Nobody's got any money at this time of the month, and if they had, they'd have gone shopping yesterday. We'll have the boys to ourselves."
"I'm still worried. What if old Titlark recognised us? She'd ask the girls in the dorm."
"They won't tell. I promised them a bite of cream cake each if they could keep their mouths shut."
The bus crested the hill and started its headlong rush down into Borcester. The girls clung on tight and stared enraptured out of the front windows. The whole town was spread out before them, twinkling in the sunshine. This was the highlight of the journey and it was a rare luxury to be able to get an upstairs front seat in the bus. The Seniors always grabbed them first.
"What shall we do first?" Helvetica seemed to be relaxing a little.
"Buy some cakes. Then we can walk down to the playing fields by the river. Look, there's a football game on. You can just see."
The river wound its sparkling way through the town, and from the top of the bus you got a view of everything that was happening long before you reached the bus station.
"Let's get off at the cream cake shop!" Valentina hauled herself to her feet and pushed the bell once. The bus accelerated briskly as a prelude to stopping and the girls came tumbling and clattering breathlessly down the stairs.
The driver looked at them over his shoulder, then looked again. Somehow, he came to a halt at the bus stop without mounting the footpath.
"See ya later, Drive," sang Valentina, as she swung herself off the bus and held out her hand for Helvetica.
"Cheers!" said Helvetica to the driver, who was still gawping helplessly, first at her marvellously well-filled jeans, then at her stupefyingly huge chest. She blushed prettily at his frank stare.
"I fancy him," giggled Valentina as they walked in the direction of the cream cake shop. She waved with her fingers at the driver as the bus finally got under way and crawled past them.
"He's ancient," Helvetica gasped in horror.
"Don't matter how old they are. It's what he's got in his pants that counts."
Helvetica closed her mouth, mortified. Valentina said the most dreadful things sometimes.
"What do you fancy, Vets?"
"Me?"
"Cakes, silly!" They came to a halt in front of the shop window. "I'm having one of those long ones. And one of those. And some eclairs. What about you?"
"I dunno. Anything with chocolate and cream." Helvetica was appalled. Valentina's chosen selection of cakes were all long ones, shaped like boys' private parts.
"I don't know what got into you, Shannie!"
Corinne washed the last of the yellow mud off her wellies and peeled off her jeans. I felt vague stirrings of lust as she bent to stuff them into the washing machine.
"Come on," she urged. "Get yours off as well. We've got to get this lot dry by tonight."
I heaved at my painted-on jeans. She gave me a well-practised hand to prise them off my shamefully huge bottom. Shameful.
"Cee...?"
"Not yet, silly," she laughed. "Later!"
It's not the best word in the language, but it's not too bad.
"I'm sorry, Cee. It was a stupid idea, going for a walk this morning."
"It probably did us good. And the girls enjoyed it. They'll be able to tell all their friends the Headmistress took them out for a walk in the woods. Funny, though. About Candelabra, I mean. When she took her jacket off, did you see the size of her bust? Ah, of course, silly question..."
"And she grew all that much in one day? Are you sure nothing ... nothing strange happened? You didn't think anything accidentally on Friday, did you?"
"I can't remember. I might have done, when she was trying the rocket-propelled bra on. I might have had a little thought that it would be nice to see her really fill it properly..."
"Oh, Cee! Did the lights flicker or anything?"
"I didn't notice. I hardly ever do until afterwards. If I did, it's too late now."
"The other girls didn't seem to notice," I said gloomily. "So they probably think she's always been that big."
"Wait a minute. One girl did notice. Geraldine said Candelabra had suddenly grown boobs since Friday. She said it was excellent. So if she noticed, it's all right. It's nothing to do with anything I thought."
"Oh, so that's what you call good news, is it? If you didn't think Candelabra's breasts to that size, something else has made her grow. And you know what that means?"
"What?"
"It means the First Form is doing Puff. Sexual Chemistry. Grow Cream Super XL Magnum Mega-Mammoth Mammavast Double-Strength Ultra Plus2."
"I don't think they're calling it that any more, Shannie."
"Whatever they're calling it, they're playing around with it, the little horrors. Before we know what we're doing, they'll be creaming all the teachers with it! We'll all end up with monster puffy moons!"
"Oh, Shannie, no. They'd never do that! Would they? I could perhaps believe it of those wretched Woods girls, but not the First Form! They're little angels."
"Oh, yeah, Clit, that's really clever. Look at them!"
Clit whined in protest. "They're just a bit stretched, that's all! They've been dangling over the edge of the measuring table for three-quarters of an hour. They'll recover by tomorrow."
Angelica pulled the bottom of her T-shirt down. It came down almost to her knees but still it wasn't long enough. A gigantic pair of dark chocolate moons hung down beneath the hemline. Monstrous nipples pointed at her feet. "And meanwhile? What am I supposed to do about these?"
"I've given you a bra you can wear. One of Miss Gruntworthy's. You won't have your own until Monday night. It's not that you're the biggest bust in the school, it's the shape of your moons that's so special."
Angelica threw up her hands in exasperation. "Two more days just to make a silly little bra?"
"'Little' is relative, dear. You've got a hundred and twenty nine and a half inch bust. Using the table-top method, of course. You've still got a couple of dozen of the kids in front of you, but you're catching them fast. You'll be needing to learn to drive a barrow. Why not practise this weekend when there aren't too many girls about to laugh at you?"
"I don't want to drive a barrow. I want a proper bra-zeer! I want my boobs supported up here, not stretched down around my ankles. Now are you going to get your butt in gear or do I have to go see the Headmistress?"
Clit gasped. Nobody spoke to her like that, not even Third Formers. "Wwh ... wha...?"
"One hundred twenty nine and one half! You measure boobs to the nearest half inch, you perverted little creep? You only got them up to that size by swinging on my nipples 'til I thought you were going to pull them off. Now, you listen and you listen real good, Clitress. You're gonna have my new bra ready by tonight. You're gonna start now and you ain't gonna stop until it's done, okay?"
"O-o-okay..."
"We understand each other. That's a good girl. Now if I can get out of this door, I'm going back to my Wendy House for something to eat. And I'll expect you knocking on my door no later than nine pm tonight, and you're gonna have my new bra in your hand."
And Angelica strode out, leaving Clit opening and closing her mouth like a fish.