RETURN OF THE GOLDEN GOOSE

by Some Sort of Dog
 
 
 
 
 

Chapter 2:- And So To Bed


 
 
  "And where have you been?" Debbie stared at Geoff. "Duncan said a woman called and said you'd be late. A Maggie somebody, he said it was."
"That's right. Maggie."
"You mean ... Maggie? Maggie Maggie? That Maggie?"
"Of course. Why not?"
"No reason. Maggie's a sweetie. I just didn't think you were her type, that's all. Although with Charlotte away ..." Debbie shrugged. "Well, stop looking so pleased with yourself, get in that darkroom. Duncan's waiting for those prints from the Thunderbra shoot last week." She shoo-ed Geoff ahead of her. "What's this in your pocket ...?"
"Nothing!" Geoff whirled round, too late.
"Hm, nice, Geoff. A bit big for you, I'd have thought!" Debbie held the bra up in front of her chest. "A bit big for me, too. I didn't know you were a collector, Geoffrey. You could have one of my old ones."
"It's Maggie's. Come on. Let's have it back." He reached out for the sumptuously soft bra, but Debbie whisked it away.
"Shan't!"
"Come on, Debs! We don't want Duncan to see ..."
"See what?" Duncan flounced in, taking in the scene. Debbie casually tossed the bra to Geoff, who caught it shamefacedly and stuffed it into his pocket.
"Get your bottom into that darkroom, Geoffrey, and don't you dare come out without those Thunderbra prints. I am disgusted in you. And disappointed. Deeply disappointed. Spending the night with a woman."
"Not just a woman," said Debbie. "Maggie."
"Maggie? Maggie Wallace? But that's ... that's ..."
Duncan was unable to think what it was. It wasn't incest, but it wasn't far off.
Geoff turned and skulked away, leaving Duncan mouthing the word "Maggie" over and over again. He looked at Debbie and raised an eyebrow. Debbie nodded in confirmation. Duncan shook his head in disbelief. Sleeping with a client. A female client, even. Whatever next?
Geoff carefully folded the bra and tucked it into his tatty briefcase. He would take it home tonight. It was nowhere near the size of the sperm-encrusted pink creation he had stolen from Lynda more than a year ago, but he would treat it with reverence. It was Maggie's. Maggie, who had made love to him six times before delivering him to the door of the studio this morning. It was the bra she had worn yesterday. It still smelled of her body. "Take it, love," she had told him with a little giggle. "It's too tight for me anyway. I'm getting a new one tomorrow from Mrs Danby."
He cursed Mrs Danby again for not putting proper size labels in her bras. All this one said was 'Danby 34'. At least, Geoff now knew enough about bra sizes to be aware that Maggie's bust size was more than 34 inches. Considerably more!
His chest swelling with pride, Geoff went into the darkroom. Memories tumbled over each other like a troupe of acrobats in his head. Maggie's wondrously soft bottom in his hands, Maggie's breasts overflowing the cups of her bra, then dangling - heavy and pointy - over his chest. Maggie's hands on him, the warmth of her mouth engulfing him, her words: "you're so good ... the best ever ..." still running through his brain. Finally, and above all, Maggie driving him in to the studio this lunchtime, as smoothly and as fast as ever, but this time, her eyes meeting his shyly in the mirror, their fingers brushing as she flicked the lever into fifth gear ...
He locked the door and turned out the lights. As he had done countless times before, he unzipped his pants and turned on the water to drown out any incriminating noises.
 
 
  "But Maggie!" Wilma was outraged. "Not Geoff! He's no age at all!" She bit her lip at the shame of the very thought. Maggie and young Geoffrey, doing it! It was so unthinkably rude! Wilma was getting wet just thinking about it.
"He's old enough, Chief!" She realised Wilma wasn't laughing. "Sorry! I was feeling..."
"Horny? It's happening more often, Mags. I don't mind, but I don't like it when it starts affecting your work. Did you get the prints of Charlotte?"
"There they are. I was just bringing them over to show you."
Wilma sat down and leafed through the stack of pictures, shaking her head silently. Charlotte simply defied belief. The editor put the pile of photographs down and glanced over at her assistant, trying not to grin. Poor old Mags! She looked so crestfallen. Something else, too. Her assistant seemed to have dressed in a hurry.
"You're looking extremely low-slung, Mags. Are you wearing a bra?"
"None of mine fit any more. I couldn't get one on this morning." She didn't say who had her bra now.
"You'd better see your Mrs Danby, then, hadn't you!"
"I am. Today, at three. If it's all right for me to get away ..."
Wilma grinned to herself. "You'd better. If you let those things hang any lower, they'll be dragging along the ground."
 
 
  "Lyn! Lynda! Over here." The trouble with being only four feet ten tall is that you disappear in a crowd. The Friday evening London train disgorged its usual throng of weekly commuters, hurrying home to the loved ones they couldn't wait to abandon on Monday mornings. The crowds parted long enough for Lynda to catch a glimpse of Donna waving and wishing she was able to jump up and down.
Lynda looked much the same, although she was noticeably fuller-figured. She swung her bag easily in one hand, her long legs powerfully-muscled in her white slacks. Her hips were enticingly wide, and her top was well over-stuffed, despite attempts at disguise using layers of loose clothing.
"Hi, Don!" The voice was the same. Somehow it still excited Donna. "Hey, you look great!"
"So do you. Sorry about the crowds on the train. I forgot what it's like on Friday nights."
"No problem," Lynda was off-handed. "I can always get a seat. They're never sure if I'm preggers or not. Are we getting a taxi?"
"I've got the car." Donna tried to sound casual about it, but not very successfully.
"A car? Yours?"
"No, it's Mum's really, although Cunis pays for most of it with my growth money."
Lynda stared at Donna's chest, but couldn't get a clue about her friend's development. She was certainly bigger than a year ago, though. They arrived at the well-used estate car, and Donna managed with relief to get the luggage compartment open without the usual drama. She adjusted the cushion under her bottom and slid the big car into gear.
"When did you pass your test?" Lynda gazed in admiration as Donna swung on to the main road and edged into the traffic.
"About three months after my seventeenth birthday. I passed first time. I think the examiner liked busty little girls. Maybe I was just lucky."
"Your Mum lets you use it when you like?"
"Not all the time, no. But she's away for two weeks, and she said I could use it. It's great. If we want, we can go out. It's a bit heavy on diesel, but I've got a few quid saved up."
"Wow!" Lynda was impressed. It was as if she'd never been in a car before, reaching out and touching her surroundings like an inquisitive child. She said little more until they arrived back at the shabby bungalow and Donna let them in with her own key.
Rachel greeted them like long-lost friends.
 
 
  They even had a proper dinner, with potatoes and vegetables and real meat and everything.
"I hope you're not a veggie," Donna said, ladling generous Mum-sized portions into dishes. "We've got a freezer full of Mum's cooking for the next two weeks. Be prepared to put on a bit of weight. You're not on a diet or anything?" she asked anxiously.
"No. I don't like my Mum's food much, but that stuff smells nice." The girls sat down and began stuffing themselves. "This is just like last year," said Lynda, through a mouthful. "Remember the breakfasts we used to have at the camp site?"
"It was all right, wasn't it. I still remember that weekend. Those boys!"
"Dave."
"And James."
"James? I thought it was Goober."
"He told me his real name. When we were ... you know?"
Lynda had gone quiet. "You got a boyfriend?" she asked at last.
"Not steady. I've had a few. None for long. You?"
Lynda shook her head.
Donna looked at the younger girl. "What's up?"
"Nothing. I've just stopped doing it, that's all. I've gone off the boys at school. The girls all stopped talking to me. Jealous, most of them."
"You haven't had a boy since Dave?"
Lynda swallowed and looked down at her plate, saying nothing. It was a few seconds before Donna realised her friend was crying, tears trickling down her nose to drip into her dinner. It was strange. Last year, Lynda was the worldly one, fighting off the boys, the envy of all the girls in her school. Now, here she was, crying her eyes out.
"I've been c-celibate for nearly a whole year," she sobbed. Donna wondered at the use of the word in everyday conversation. She had never heard it used before, except on television. It made Donna want to giggle, although she had a feeling that wouldn't go down too well.
"There's boys round here, Lyn. You'll like them. We'll meet a few." She looked at Lynda's face, which had taken on an expression of apprehension. "You don't have to. I mean, you don't have to let them do anything. I mean, they don't expect it automatically. Shall we have a few of them round here tomorrow night? No?"
Lynda was shaking her head. "Not straight away. Can we ... could we talk about it first? Everything's different these days. My Mum's horrible, ever since that Geoff business. Do you see him much?" "Now and again. I haven't done any modelling yet. I will be, in a few months, in time for my eighteenth birthday. They've promised me a huge spread in the magazine. Probably a front cover. Hey, you haven't seen the mag, have you? Kay was in it, and Charlotte. They did Charlotte every month while she was having her babies. Until she was six months, then they thought they'd better stop, she was getting too vast even for HUMUNGOUS! You'd never believe how huge she is now she's feeding the twins. She makes me look flat ..."
"We saw her ... Geoff and me. She was at Mrs Danby's. I'd never seen anyone as big as that." "That was nothing. She got pregnant after that. Outdoors! With Kay's ex-boyfriend! You should have seen her tits! Well, you can. I've got all the copies of the mag. We'll read them later. But it's funny you should mention Mrs Danby. She's coming tomorrow morning."
"Here? Mrs Danby?"
Lynda had an expression of absolute horror on her face. "Yeah. Ten o' clock. She does house calls now. It's way better than traipsing down there to get measured every month. You mean she doesn't visit you?"
"Me? No. I ... I haven't seen her since last year. When we ... broke up with your lot after Geoff got the sack. Mum couldn't afford for me to go to her for my bras any more, not at forty quid a time."
"But you can't get ready made ones. What do you wear?"
"My old ones. Or none at all. Or anything Mum can find. Nothing fits. I mean really fits, like a Mrs Danby bra used to." She sat quietly for a while. "Did you say Geoff is still working at the studio. I thought he'd been fired."
"He was. Duncan couldn't manage without him and took him back. He's okay, now. He was very quiet for a while, but he's really nice now. And Debbie. They ask about you sometimes."
"Geoff?"
"Sometimes, yes." Geoff had mentioned Lynda once, in passing. Donna stood up and began gathering up the plates. She bent over the table, aware of Lynda's scrutiny of her chest. She felt herself going red.
"Washing up time. We share it, okay? You wash, I dry. I'm too short to reach the sink."
 
 
  "It's not a bad view from here. You can see past the pig farm to the church, just." They were sitting on Lynda's bed in the spare room. Her bag was unpacked, various items of clothing hanging in the wardrobe. She didn't seem to have much stuff with her. Only one bra, for instance. A very tired and grubby looking pink one. "The bathroom's just through there. There's a shower in the bath. Hey, I was going to show you those mags, wasn't I? Hang on, I'll get them."
She was gone a couple of minutes. Lynda was sitting where she had left her, staring round the room as if memorising the wallpaper.
"Here y'are. Everything from last September up to the latest one. Charlotte's in the first few, getting bigger each time. She's only on the cover three times." She spread the magazines out on the bed. "There's Kay, look. She's in this one as well, and..."
"There's me," said Lynda suddenly. Donna gulped and tried to stop Lynda, but too late. The girl had already slid the copy of GROSS out from the pile and was studying the front cover. "I never saw those pictures. You'd think someone would have showed them to me, since they'd completely fucked up my whole life." She opened the magazine and leafed through it. It was surprisingly well-thumbed. It opened itself to Lynda's layout automatically.
"I'd forgotten it was there," said Donna. "I look at it now and again."
Lynda shot her a quick glance, then looked back down at the page again. The magazine had been repeatedly flattened, and a thumb had been run down the centre of the page to hold it flat. Clearly, this was someone's really really favourite page. Lynda turned the page again. It was weird, seeing her own face looking out at her from the magazine. Not like looking in a mirror. The girl was younger, brassy, bold-eyed. And drunk, she remembered. Another page, and there she was, looking back over her shoulder into the camera, her wet sex glistening. "Oh, shit!" She closed the book quickly.
Donna was blushing. She picked up the magazine, and hesitated a second or so before gathering the others together in a pile. "Maybe some other time, yeah?"
"Yeah," Lynda said dully. Her shoulders were hunched. "Somebody showed it to my Mum. I never saw the pictures. No wonder they never showed me. They're horrible. I was drunk when he did it."
She was crying again. Without realising, Donna was beside her on the bed, holding her close, an arm around her shoulder. "It's all right. Nobody else will have seen you. GROSS only comes out in America. You can't even get it on subscription over here. Maggie gave me that one. I've ... I've read it it quite a lot, remembering us in that tent of ours. What we did." Donna held her breath.
Lynda finally relaxed against her. "It felt as if everybody had seen the pictures but me. I thought that bloke had shown everybody. The girls at school found out I'd been posing nude. I don't know how. The boys all wanted one thing, but the girls were worse. They spread stories about me having Aids and all sorts of stuff like that. They were bastards."
"Lyn, I'm sorry!"
Lynda droned on, not hearing her. "I got in lots of fights. Of course, I'm bigger than the other girls, so I usually won, and then the teachers picked on me for winning. I got into trouble all the time. They wanted to expel me. There was only one teacher who stood up for me: without her, I'd have been chucked out ages ago."
Donna gave up trying to find anything to say. She clung to Lynda's shoulder and listened as the tale poured out.
"I want to leave school, but I can't until I'm sixteen. I can't do anything until I'm sixteen. Don! It's horrible."
"It will soon be over. Lyn, I promise. You'll be sixteen before you know where you are. Look at me. Last year, I was a virgin who knew nothing about boys, until you showed me. Now I'm driving around in my Mum's car." The logic sounded a bit shaky, even to her, but Lynda didn't seem to notice.
"It's at least another year. I could have had Geoff. A proper boyfriend, only I was too greedy. All I wanted was his money."
"You had all of it. It took him ages to pay Duncan back," Donna couldn't help reminding her.
Lynda stared at her. "I didn't know! He just seemed to have loads of money, and a car and everything."
"He's still got the car, but it doesn't go. He's getting over the experience. Same as you are. It wasn't pleasant for either of you. You both did wrong, and you're paying the price. But you'll come through. In a year or two, you'll laugh at all this, when you've got a nice boyfriend, and a job somewhere. You're really pretty, and sexy, and you've got a lovely figure. That's why I used to read your magazine so much. I couldn't believe how lovely your figure is."
"Was. I'm fat now. I don't care, either. Nobody wants me. My tits are great floppy bags that hang down to my pussy, my Mum can't afford to buy bras for me, nobody loves me, I'm useless." She sat rigidly for a few seconds, waiting for Donna to disagree with any part of her statement. The silence stretched out. Then she was crying properly, tears pouring down her face as she hugged closer and closer to the older girl. Her body shuddered with great sobs. It went on for about twenty minutes before she quietened down, and Donna gently eased her great weight down on to her pillow. She lay half on her side, her eyes open, her lower lip trembling.
"I'll make you a warm drink. Chocolate. It will make you feel better."
"Don't leave me, Donna." A hand clung desperately to Donna's fingers.
"I'll only be a minute."
"You'll come back?"
"Of course. I'll only be in the kitchen. I'll let Rachel out for a piss, then I'll bring you your drink. And my bedroom's just down the passage. If you get lonely in the night."
Had she said too much, too soon? Lynda looked reassured. "Maybe tomorrow night, yeah?"
 
 
  end Chapter 2