RETURN OF THE GOLDEN GOOSE
by Some Sort of Dog
Chapter 8:- The Bra's The Star
"I got the impression Charlotte didn't care if she never posed again."
Wilma sniffed. "She doesn't have a choice. If we say she does, she
does. How did she look, anyway?"
"How did she look? Incredible, in a word. Yet she said that new bra
of hers disguises her shape. I'd hate to see her without it, in that case."
"I rather thought you'd quite enjoy the experience, dear. So, when
can she do it?"
"Do what? The pictures?" Maggie reddened and lowered her eyes.
"She told me to call her next week. Wednesday, Thursday, some time."
"She did what? Mags, we have an urgent timescale to meet here.
Another week before she will even condescend to talk to you? You're
going to have to do better than that, love."
"I'm sorry! We were in the restaurant and suddenly she just looked
at the time and left. She had to feed the babies, she said. What was I
supposed to do?"
"I don't really care what you do, Maggie, just get her booked up
with Duncan. It shouldn't be that difficult. I've got a meeting in half an
hour. Can I trust you to do that simple task? Get hold of Charlotte and
make a booking at the studio. Okay, I've got a lot to do. I'll see you in
the morning and you can tell me what you've arranged."
Maggie blundered away. She walked past her desk and went
straight into the ladies' room. Her whole life was turning into a
nightmare. All her relationships were falling apart around her ears, and
now she wasn't even doing her job properly. She stood there, clutching
the edge of the wash basin, staring into the mirror, but seeing nothing.
By the time she returned to her desk, Wilma had left. It was past
six o' clock and the traffic outside had built up to a groaning, crawling
morass. The rush hour, they called it. Maggie picked up the phone.
"No, sorry. The mistress is not at home. She did not say, Miss
Wallace. I suggest you try again later."
"Maggie! Do you know what time it is? I'm in bed!"
"I'm sorry. I tried you earlier but they said you were out."
"Out? Where would I go, looking like this? What did you want,
anyway, that couldn't wait until tomorrow? I thought you were going to
call next week sometime. Thursday or Friday."
"Wilma told me to talk to you about the next session at the studio..."
"We've been through all this, Mags. The answer's no! Not for a few
weeks, if that. I've got to look after these babies. They take every minute
of my time right now. Give it a month or two and see how I feel then,
when I've got my strength back."
Maggie felt physically sick. A cold panic spread over her.
"Charlotte, please!" She felt her voice starting to crack.
"It's late, Mags," said Charlotte coolly.
"Please. Can I see you tomorrow? I'm desperate. Please!"
There was a long silence. Maggie thought she could hear voices at
the other end of the line. The phone was put down with a hollow
'clonk'. Then someone picked it up again and a hand rustled over the
mouthpiece. Faintly, she heard a muffled female voice say, "okay, you
can meet me at ..." then Charlotte broke in again, very loud ...
"Mags? Right. I can't get into town tomorrow. How about the
afternoon, down at Mrs Danby's place. I'm seeing her at three. With any
luck, the twins will be through having their lunch by then. But don't be
late, Mags. I can't wait around for you. If you get there and I've gone,
I've gone, understand?"
Maggie felt a flood of relief. "Thanks, Charlotte. Thank you! You
don't know how much this means to me ..."
Charlotte interrupted wearily. "See you tomorrow. It's long past my
bedtime. Bye-eee!"
Maggie was early. Mrs Danby looked her up and down on the
doorstep.
"You didn't arrange an appointment, Maggie, did you? That bra
still looks a nice fit on you."
"No, it's fine. You made it on the generous side, you remember,
and it was only three weeks ago." She followed Mrs Danby through into
the workroom.
"Still growing, though, are you?"
"It feels like it, yes."
"Oh, good!" The bra maker laughed, then stopped, looking at
Maggie strangely. "What's the matter, love? Sense of humour failure?"
Maggie tried a brave smile. It failed dismally. "No, I've been going
through a bit of a hard time, that's all."
"Working too hard. No good ever came of working too hard. Have
you had a holiday lately? Get away with your boyfriend for a week or
two..."
Maggie shook her head, tears welling in her eyes.
"No boyfriend? Girlfriend, then! I'm broadminded, even if I do
come from an earlier generation. What's up? What did I say?"
Maggie was literally howling. Mrs Danby thrust a hankie into her
hand and went to turn on the kettle before returning to take Maggie's
hands in hers. Mrs Danby had a sense of priorities.
"Now then, what is it? You can tell me. A girl's secrets are safe
with her corsetiere." She hugged Maggie's unprotesting body to her,
smoothing her hair, rocking her gently back and forth.
"Nobody loves me any more!" And out it all came, to an
accompaniment of soft words, promptings and gentle questions from
Mrs Danby.
"You'll have that cup of tea now, won't you. It's as well my next
client is late. Although knowing who it is, you might prefer not to see
her."
Maggie took a deep, shuddering breath. "I know who it is. She's
why I'm here. My Chief made me see her to arrange another sitting."
"And Charlotte's not keen?"
"No. Give it a month or two, she said, while she gets her strength
back. Her strength! Charlotte's strong as an ox."
"She doesn't feel as if she is, dear, believe me. She'll come round,
don't worry, but in her own time. You can't push her. Your editor ought
to remember once in a while that she's dealing with real people." Mrs
Danby fetched a mug and handed it to Maggie. "Drink up, and look on
the bright side." She gave her a last hug.
"Hello, hello! Caught you at it again!" Charlotte breezed in. "Sorry
for not knocking. I was late so I came straight through. I didn't expect
to find you in flagrante. What's your problem, Mags?" Mrs Danby
shook her head in warning, and Charlotte clapped a hand over her
mouth. "Oops, foot in mouth again! Sorry I spoke. I'd got out of the
habit of having a time of the month just lately."
Charlotte was wearing the same tent of a dress, or one so much like
it as to be indistinguishable. She moved with ponderous grace to one of
Mrs Danby's overstuffed armchairs and lowered herself carefully into it.
Only when she was seated did the sheer immensity of her bosom
become obvious. Her breasts overflowed her lap and projected well
beyond her knees, but they also rested on the arms of the chair, almost
overflowing down the sides, restrained only by the bra's resilience.
Maggie stared at her, open-mouthed.
"It's all right," said Charlotte. "I've got a few minutes to spare.
Jacqui is getting her hair done. Some of it, anyway. Oh, of course!"
Charlotte slapped her forehead, quite hard, setting her breasts jiggling
massively. "You came here to meet me, didn't you? I thought you were
getting a bigger bra or something. So how can I help you? Although the
answer's probably no, I'm afraid."
"Wilma told me I had to see you and arrange another session. I told
her you didn't want to but she ... she said ..."
Mrs Danby had to grip Maggie's hand again as the words refused to
come. Charlotte heaved herself out of the chair and lumbered over.
"Hey! Come on." She placed her fingers under Maggie's chin and
raised her tear-stained face. "God, look at the state of you. What are we
going to do with you, Mags?"
"I don't know," said Maggie in a small voice.
"Poor Charlotte can't really pose for pictures, Maggie, not yet. Tell
you what, you go and freshen up and I'll make a cuppa for Charlotte.
Then you can both talk about it while I see to Charlotte's bra. Okay?"
It wasn't okay at all, but Maggie had no choice. She followed Mrs
Danby's directions to the bathroom.
"Poor love, she doesn't know whether she's coming or going.
Boyfriend trouble. Or girlfriend." Mrs Danby looked meaningfully at
Charlotte, who showed no emotion at all. "Here's your tea." She stirred
the mug and gave it to her. "Slip your frock off, love, let's have a look at
these shoulders of yours."
Charlotte reached behind her neck, a simple enough movement, yet
one which threw her breasts forward and upward to a huge extent. Mrs
Danby giggled.
"Grief, girl, you'll have somebody's eye out with those things." She
watched critically as the dress came off over Charlotte's head, then she
walked round behind her and inserted a finger beneath one of the broad
shoulder pieces of Charlotte's new bra. "Hmm-mm, I see what you
mean. It's probably because it's so stiff and new, but it has to be stiff to
do its job. I can line the next ones with something softer if you can hang
on for a couple of days."
"Okay, that's fine. Jacqui rubs my shoulders better when she
undresses me. I suppose a couple more nights of that won't hurt
anyone."
"No, it won't hurt too many people, anyway." Mrs Danby fetched
her little wooden box, the one she stood on to work on Charlotte. "We'll
need to get that bra off you without breaking anything. God, it
practically needs an illustrated book of instructions, this thing. What's
the matter?"
Mrs Danby stared at Charlotte, who was grinning at her foolishly.
"Nothing. I just had a stupid idea. It can wait until Mags comes back
from the loo. You know, maybe I could pose again after all!"
Maggie stopped dead in her tracks. The sight never failed to thrill
and stupefy her. Now, it seemed ages since she had seen Charlotte
undressed. The last occasion had been the photo session with the
babies. Things had been so rushed and hectic that day; with hot,
indignant babies squalling and yelling; Duncan throwing tantrums and
Charlotte herself storming off in a huff at the end; Maggie had seen
little of her then, and nothing at all of her since.
She had almost forgotten just how stunning Charlotte was without
that enormous frock covering her. Seeing her sitting in the armchair
with her breasts occupying half the room had been quite an experience.
Now, returning to the workroom, the first thing she saw was a back
view of Charlotte, wearing nothing but bra and panties.
Charlotte was leaning forward from the waist - she had a waist
again, Maggie realised, and how! It was dwarfed by the enormity of the
rest of her outrageous body. As she straightened up, the muscles at the
back of those thunderous thighs tensed and rippled. Her legs were
slightly apart, and her calves looked about as big around as Maggie's
thighs. And those breasts! Maggie felt almost sick with desire.
What on earth was she wearing? Black silk French knickers for a
start, most un-Charlotte-like. And what appeared to be a man's singlet,
like the vest of an Olympic athlete. It was black, and it hugged her body
from the neck down to just above her waist. But how could it be? She
could never contain those mountainous breasts within such a garment.
Anyway, her breasts were clearly supported — if that was the word for it
— in a bra with cups of gold stretch material.
Maggie stared, and realised. Charlotte's bra was black and gold.
The singlet was part of it: there was no body band as such, only this
body-hugging vest of heavyweight canvas-like material. There were no
shoulder straps; instead, the strange garment was cut high at the back
of Charlotte's neck, and disappeared over her shoulders, but since the
shoulders obviously had to support much of the vast weight of her
breasts, they acted as shoulder straps fully four inches wide.
"Oh, you're back." Mrs Danby noticed Maggie, transfixed and
staring. "Found it okay?"
"Yes, thanks." Maggie came right into the room and stood in front
of Charlotte, still gazing at her in wonder.
"You haven't seen this bra yet, have you?" Charlotte laughed at
Maggie's expression. "I suppose it is a bit of a shock at first sight. It
certainly shocked me, and I made the thing."
Maggie didn't think 'a bit of a shock' quite did justice to her
feelings. From in front, Charlotte was entirely made up of breasts,
shrouded in gargantuan bra cups of shiny gold. The top of the black
singlet was just visible where it came over the shoulders. The black
material immediately broadened into two huge triangular panels which
swept down the sides of Charlotte's breasts as far as her waist, at which
point they were attached to the gold outer cup panels.
Mrs Danby was proud of her handiwork. "The black bit is what
gives the support," she pointed out. "Look round the back, here. The
material has a little bit of give in it, but it only stretches in one
direction, so the cut has to be just so. What happens is that it acts like
an almost rigid tube round Charlotte's body, which lets us hang the cups
from it. You can't see it where it disappears round the front, but it goes
right round her from her waist up to just below the breasts. At the back,
of course, it can go much higher, and the shoulders are all part of the
same one-piece shell. It zips up the back with velcro. If I'd used hooks,
it would have needed about two dozen, and it would take for ever to put
it on."
"It takes long enough as it is," Charlotte complained. "Jacqui never
stops grumbling about it."
"That's the drawback," Mrs Danby hurried on. "It needs two of you
to put it on and take it off. But that's not the fault of the bra, it's more
the way Charlotte's built that's the problem."
"Thank you, dear," said Charlotte.
"Now, here, the shoulder straps, even as wide as they are, still carry
a huge weight. I'll be lining the next model with something soft, but
these are rubbing a bit, which is why she's in here today. Now look, this
is the clever part."
Mrs Danby led Maggie round the far side of Charlotte again.
"Where the shoulder straps flare out into these big triangles, the
material is cut in such a way that it can give sideways but not at all up
and down. And from here on downwards..." Mrs Danby tried to turn
Charlotte round, but had to admit defeat "...the triangular panels are
firmly stitched to the waist panel, the bit I call the corset. It actually
holds her in down there. She'll never admit it but she's still got a little
bit of a belly on her after the babies. Anyway, it makes the whole top of
the bra a semi-rigid tube with almost like a cantilevered top that goes
over the shoulders. It makes putting it on a bit of a trial, but once it's on..."
"Bingo!" said Charlotte. "I have to lean over and dangle my tits
into the cups, then slip my arms through here, both at the same time —
not one before the other — then Jacqui has to pull it up on to my
shoulders and heave on the handles at the back until she can fasten the
velcro. She's a strong little thing. Good French peasant stock, you
know."
"The cups are fairly conventional, apart from their size." Mrs
Danby tugged at the golden sacks to demonstrate the stretchiness of the
cup material. "The bottoms of the cups are the same material, but there
are three layers, to take the weight. They don't even start until way
down here, though, by the corset. No point in attaching them up in the
usual place. They are stitched on down here, and also at the sides, all
the way up the black triangles as well, so the breasts are lifted upwards
about two feet or so higher than their normal position, without having
them stick out any further than necessary. So the bra does take almost
the full weight of them. Just don't ask how much they weigh! Charlotte
gets embarrassed easily."
"I wouldn't dream of it," said Maggie, quietly. She was wondering
what Charlotte's measurements were.
"I bet she's wondering what my measurements are," giggled
Charlotte.
"They're all the same, these people, obsessed with numbers." Mrs
Danby fiddled with the shoulder of the bra for a moment. "Don't take it
off for a minute. I'll just go and find a bit of lining material and I can
probably pad these shoulders for you while you wait. You've got half an
hour?"
"I s'pose so. I fed the kids just before we came out. Mrs Grummit
and young Lucy, the scullery maid, are looking after them. I shouldn't
be surprised if they managed to squeeze some milk out of that little cow
if they got thirsty. She makes you look concave, Mags, and she only
comes up to about here. Maxwell's giving her one, I know for a fact."
Mrs Danby sat down at her machine and began sewing something
complicated in a soft satin material. She held her head on one side,
singing fairly tunelessly to herself as she worked.
Charlotte glanced across at her, then turned to Maggie, resting her
breasts on the back of the armchair. The chair back sank deep into the
reinforced cups. "You know you were asking about me posing again?"
Maggie forced her eyes up to Charlotte's face. "You said a couple of
months. Wilma wasn't at all impressed with that."
Charlotte snorted, as if her opinion of Wilma wasn't worth wasting
real words on.
"I had an idea. After the last time, I don't think I could handle
going to Duncan's again. Trailing up to London with the babies and
everything. But how about if we did something here?"
"Here? At Mrs D's?"
"Well, we've certainly got a subject. I mean, another set of piccies
of me is just another set of piccies of me. But how about some of me in
this get-up? The black and gold bra! Taking it off, or putting it on, it
wouldn't matter which."
"A strip sequence. Or a reverse strip. It would look great. You
mean you would do it?"
"If we could. I don't know what Madame here would say." Mrs
Danby was still machining furiously away, her tongue sticking out. "But
if she was agreeable, and if Duncan would do it, or rather Geoff - since
Duncan can't even bring himself to look at me these days - well, who
knows? I mean, if everyone was happy with the idea, I could probably
be persuaded to change my mind and pose again. Here. Actually, it was
Mrs D who almost suggested it. She said something about an illustrated
instruction manual. The bra would be the star of the whole thing."
"The Bra's The Star! Great title, Char!" Maggie was feeling rising
excitement. As much as anything, it was because of her closeness to
Charlotte again. She still felt the pain of not being able to go to bed
with her amazonian girlfriend, but standing here, talking to her, the old
magic was still doing its stuff. "Shall we ask her?"
"I will, if you like. I'm paying enough for these things. Even so, I
doubt if they'll last me more than six months. I haven't stopped
growing, you know." Charlotte was blushing slightly and Maggie felt a
wave of tenderness come over her. "You know how I was growing six
inches a month when we were doing the preggo series."
"I wasn't sure how much of that was because of your boobs resting
on your tummy."
"Not much. Mrs D was measuring me with her Super-Bertha. I was
near enough 120 inches when we did the first set, remember?"
"At three months." It seemed so long ago, in this very room, trying
to measure Charlotte on the floor with her breasts stretched out on the
carpet, and a too-short tape measure. "Then at four months, we put you
down in the mag as 125 inches."
"And half the world wrote in to the letters page! But then I went up
to 132!"
"And 140 inches at six months. Then BJ got cold feet and called a
halt."
"It was in danger of becoming the CHARLOTTE! magazine,
instead of HUMUNGOUS! He made the right decision. I only went up
to 145 inches the month after that!"
"It would have disappointed the readers, for sure. I bet they were all
drawing graphs, trying to work out how big you'd get!"
Charlotte was suddenly quiet. "I carried on getting bigger, but more
slowly. But now, since the babies, I'm afraid I'm growing faster than
ever. It doesn't show so much because of these new bras and those tent
dresses I wear. But believe me, I'm getting worried about it." She
thought for a moment, then whispered to Maggie, "When I had this one
made, I was up to ... no, I can't tell you. I'm so embarrassed."
"The readers will want to know. They see it as their right."
"You could invent some numbers: they'd never know." Charlotte
looked at Maggie's expression and whispered it. "I was 167 inches. Mrs
D says I'm past 170 inches now!"
"Oh, Char!"
"I wouldn't dare look at myself in the magazine and see 'Charlotte,
170-32-45', I'd just about die of shame."
Maggie knew it had been only a matter of time before it happened.
She felt a chill wetness around her panties as her juices leaked past her
absorbent pad and seeped down her inner thigh. She moved away
quickly and leaned back against the bench, bringing one knee up to try
to stop the trickle becoming a raging flood. Mrs Danby returned from
her machining, looking at Maggie curiously.
"What are you two plotting?"
"We want to turn this place into a studio," Charlotte said boldly, as
Maggie shook her head and blushed in embarrassment.
"You want to do what?"
"We need some pictures of me for Maggie's next layout. So we're
going to do them in here, with you fitting me for a new bra!"
"Over my dead body, you will!"
end Chapter 8