RETURN OF THE GOLDEN GOOSE

by Some Sort of Dog
 
 
 
 
 

Chapter 13:- Super Bertha


 
 
  "Right, what was it you wanted to show me, Nobby?"
"This tape we just had handed in by one of the viewers. It made me think. You remember that piece last week: the girl with big boobs who was arrested for flashing on the balcony of an hotel in Brighton?" Nobby slid a VHS cassette into a machine and typed something bewildering on the keyboard of his edit controller.
"You made me late for my lunch date just to see a pair of boobs? Guy will be livid!" Tristram turned to flounce out of the editing room.
"No, hang on. Let me tell you the story. Look at this tape first. It's a bit wobbly, and it's not very long, but ... have a look." Nobby tapped the play button and sat back.
A shaky picture appeared, with nasty, smeary colours. It seemed to be shot from the back of a crowd of people, nothing but a lot of heads. Tristram snorted and started to leave.
"It's all right in a second, when she holds the camera above her head." Sure enough, the view became more elevated, the tops of the heads appeared, and there in the background was a mountain, with a little stream flowing down, and a row of bushes.
"What are we looking at?" said Tristram wearily. "Really, Nobby..."
"That!"
"Gosh!" From behind the bushes, a man had appeared. A naked man. Tristram looked at him with awakening interest. "I see what you mean," he said, dropping into a chair and rolling himself closer to the screen.
"Not him," said Nobby. "Wait for it ... her!"
"Golly! She's a big girl!"
"Always the master of understatement, Triss, she's fucking enormous!"
"There's no need to be coarse. Where's he ... where are they going?"
The woman followed the naked man. To Tristram's regret, the man disappeared, and Tristram had to concentrate on the large naked young woman. Almost naked. She was wearing walking boots and socks. In silence, they watched her bounce out of sight, then the picture turned upside down, went out of focus and disappeared in a burst of noise.
The woman with the camera says she fell over. Anyway, the nudists were loaded into a police van and taken to Hornthwaite nick. It seems the couple were hiding in some bushes, trying to attract attention. Some cock an' bull story..." Tristram winced "...about having their clothes pinched while they were swimming in a pool. And having it off underwater."
"Having it off?" Tristram said wonderingly. "You mean...? Who told you all this?"
"Sources." Nobby tapped the side of his nose. "When this woman brought the tape in, I made a few enquiries. Apparently, the couple were not charged, but were released this morning and taken away by a Mystery Woman."
"A Mystery Woman?" Nobby could be so simply infuriating sometimes.
"This one." Nobby pressed another key and a second screen sprang to life. "We had a crew down at the nick this morning. Here she is now, getting out of the BMW. Lovely pair of tits on her. Pity about the glasses."
Tristram forbore to comment.
"Now, look. Here they come, out of the police station. There's the Mystery Woman again, and the Big Girl, and her alleged husband."
"They're dressed," Tristram pointed out.
"They would be, yes. The police wouldn't let them go if they were naked."
The three of them got into the BMW and drove off.
"But who are they?"
Nobby spun round in his chair, grinning triumphantly, maddeningly. "That's where the Brighton incident rang a bell. I got the tape. Here, on the other screen, look. It's the same people, all three of them, Mystery woman an' all." They viewed the Brighton tape in silence.
"The Mystery Woman didn't have her boyfriend with her," Tristram pointed out with regret.
"Same couple, though. Name of Danby. Twice in a week. They seem to be compulsive exhibitionists. Unusual. Not to mention having tits that size. Very unusual. They must be fifty-something inches, at least. Well, anyway." Nobby pulled himself together and stopped the tape. "What do you think?"
"Stick it together, a bit of the Brighton stuff, some of the amateur footage of the guy and the girl, then the BMW bit. We'll get Gordon to follow it up and see if he can find anything out about them. We've got a few hours. If we get anything good from Gordon, it could go out tonight."
"They were staying at the Swan. Uddersdale, appropriately enough. I could make a call or two...?"
 
 
  "Okay, girls. One last job." Debbie rubbed her eyes and yawned. Mrs Danby yawned and stretched. Charlotte sat up suddenly.
"I must have nodded off," she said. "Where were we?"
"The Super Bertha. Mrs Danby's got it all ready. What's it all about, Mrs D?"
"It's a bit like the old Bertha, but Charlotte and Donna are really too big for the original version. Those separate platforms I used to support the breasts on, they were the weak point. The Super doesn't have those. It's a bit huge, it only just fits in the back of the van, but it's so much easier to use. I'll fit it on Charlotte, and show you how it works."
"Donna and Lynda scrambled out of their chair to watch as Mrs Danby brought the Super Bertha into the workroom.
"I see what you mean about the size of the thing," said Charlotte.
"It's big, but it's not heavy. Just a bit awkward. Jacqui, s'il vous plaît ?"
Jacqui smiled a secret smile at Charlotte and took the contraption Mrs Danby handed to her.
"It's the same as the bra, at the back here, like a wrap-around canvas body band. The difference is this bracket here at the bottom. The breast platform will be hinged to it like the fold-down leaf of a dining table. That's where I got the idea. Charlotte, if you wouldn't mind getting up on my box, please?" Placing her hands on Jacqui's and Mrs Danby's shoulders. Charlotte heaved herself up on to Mrs Danby's box and stood there looking down at them all. Okay, Jacqui. Wrap it round her chest, pull it right up as far as it will go, then zip it up the back."
Jacqui stood close behind Charlotte to slide the body band up behind her breasts. Her hair brushed Charlotte's bottom, and the big woman bit her lip. So did Donna and Lynda, who were feeling for each other's hands. Jacqui was now reaching up above her head, pulling the stiff body band upward until it was far up as it would go. The front was cut away to allow it to be pulled up tight under the breasts, while the back almost reached Charlotte's neck.
"What do we do about the shoulders? I can't reach up there, anyway," said the French girl. She held up the shoulder straps, which were about five feet long and had metal clips on the ends, like the clips on a dog leash.
"Nothing yet, we have to attach the platform first." The platform was leaning against the wall. Mrs Danby took it and studied it for a few seconds, working out which way it was supposed to go. It was a flat table made of some rigid plastic material. It was roughly five feet long and probably four feet wide, although at one end it abruptly tapered down to no more than a foot in width.
"Lean forward, Charlotte," said Mrs Danby. "I need your breasts to hang away from your body."
"Ouch, my poor back. Okay, here goes!" With Jacqui holding her hand for support, Charlotte bent from the waist, leaning forward until her breasts hung down level with her feet. "Hurry up, I can't hold this for long!"
"This is why you have to be on the box." Mrs Danby slid the great plastic platform in behind Charlotte's breasts at an angle to her body. It rested on the floor in front of her like a ramp, on which her breasts lay like economy-size sacks of flour. "Now, the hinge pin goes in ..." She checked to see that the platform was lined up with the body band, and slammed home the hinge pin with a decisive thump. "And finally," she crawled underneath the platform and did something with a noisy metal object, then emerged, red-faced. "Debbie, please. Could you hand me that winding handle?"
The handle was like an old fashioned car starting handle. It fitted into a socket near the front of the platform. Mrs Danby started to crank the handle round and round.
"Let me do that," insisted Debbie, taking over. As she wound the handle, the front edge of the platform slowly raised itself up from the floor. It was supported on a scissor-shaped arrangement of legs, like a car jack. "It's bloody heavy," she said.
"That's the weight of Charlotte's breasts. They're probably the heaviest in the world."
Geoff took over with the handle and the platform rose faster, climbing up until it was almost horizontal. As the platform was raised, Charlotte slowly straightened until she was standing almost upright. Mrs Danby watched critically. "Okay, that's high enough. Thanks, Geoff. Toss the shoulder straps over her shoulders, and clip the ends on here. It just takes some of the strain."
There were metal rings at intervals along the sides of the platform, and the shoulder straps clipped on to a pair about half way out along the platform's length.
Everyone studied the effect. Charlotte's breasts were supported horizontally in front of her, with the nipples about eighteen inches short of the ends of the platform the end of the platform.
"You made it too big," giggled Charlotte.
"I left a bit of room for you to grow."
"If I grow another eighteen inches, Madam Danby, they'll be trailing along the ground when I stand up. Not that I'd be able to stand up."
"Right, that's all there is to it," said Mrs Danby, standing back. "Any questions?"
"Will you have an assistant in the photos?" Geoff asked the question. "Besides Mrs D, I mean? We haven't had one until now."
"I could do it." Lynda had her hand up, like a schoolgirl in class.
Debbie was very much in charge. "It might not go down too well with Mr Cunis, Lynnie. A pity, it would make a very interesting picture. But it wouldn't matter if we were to use Jacqui in these shots. They're separate from the others in the layout. Besides, Charlotte and Jacqui have got to get some enjoyment out of this."
They clearly were. Jacqui was standing behind Charlotte, resting her face against her mistress's gorgeously mature bottom. Charlotte was beginning to pant. Her hips twitched at every touch of the nanny's hair on her skin. With her breasts supported like this, trickles of moisture were visible on the inside of both of Charlotte's thighs.
"Right, Geoff. Up your ladder, love!"
Geoff thrilled to Debbie's casual use of the affectionate term. In his mind, he could still feel Debbie's sweet tightness around him. He still found it impossible to believe that this woman had given her wonderful body to him. Their eyes met for a second, and she knew what he was thinking. Her face went a pretty shade of pink. "Go on," she whispered. "It's nearly time we were getting up in the morning. Okay!" Her voice rang out. "Last few shots. We'll shoot it in reverse order. That should make it easier to wind her down to the floor again. Let's go!"
 
 
  "It doesn't look right, love, does it?" Debbie scratched her head and looked up at Geoff.
"Jacqui doesn't look right with her clothes on," he said. "What would it be like with her in pants and bra?"
Jacqui hung her head and Charlotte snickered lewdly.
"That might be awkward. She isn't wearing any. I doubt if Mrs Danby's got anything small enough in stock, either."
"It wouldn't matter if she was starkers, would it?" Debbie looked at the French girl and shrugged. "Strip off, Jacqui."
Jacqui peeled off her sweater and stood with it dangling from one hand. Charlotte coughed politely. "It's a pity Maggie's not here. It would be nice to know at this stage what the views of HUMUNGOUS! readers are on FBH!"
Mrs Danby wanted to know what FBH was.
Charlotte tapped the side of her nose with a finger. "Jacqui's a bit ... well ... how to put it delicately? Mediterranean!"
"I should think HUMUNGOUS! readers look at body hair pretty much the same as everyone else," said Debbie. "They either love it or they hate it. We've showed pubic hair in Cunis's pictures before."
"Well, on your head be it..." Jacqui had been looking from one to the other of them during this conversation. She looked quizzically up at Charlotte, who nodded briefly.
Jacqui dropped her sweater and slipped her thumbs into the waistband of her microskirt. Her big nipples were like corks on her puffy little breasts. Generous tufts of hair protruded from her armpits.
"No need for the striptease, darling," said Charlotte, "just get your kit off."
The skirt slid down a few inches, while Jacqui wiggled her hips. Obviously, she found the removal of a skirt to be a major undertaking. All eyes watched as she pushed the skirt down a little further, then turned to face her mistress as she got it down past the fullest part of her hips. Charlotte licked her lips. It was a sight of which she never tired. Was it necessary, she wondered, for Jacqui to bend right over to remove the skirt? She was bent right forward from the waist, her feet slightly parted, her pert bottom thrust out in the direction of her audience.
"Gosh," said Debbie, finding herself staring at easily the hairiest little bottom she had ever seen. "I think I see what you mean!"
"You wait 'til she turns round," Charlotte gloated. "Show the nice ladies your muff, Jacqui!"
Jacqui straightened up, placed her hands on her head, and turned slowly.
"Golly!"
"Goodness me!"
"Wow!"
"She's even hairier than you," Donna whispered in Lynda's ear.
Jacqui gave a little shimmy of her hips and smiled proudly. "I 'ope I am not too 'airy, Madame Debbee?"
"You're certainly not going to shave it off," said Charlotte firmly.
"It's all right, Jacqui," said Debbie faintly, "I think you're just fine. The readers will just have to learn to take it or leave it."
 
 
  'Pock!' The flashes went off for the last time and Geoff put his thumb up.
"That's a wrap, girls!" Debbie called, and everybody relaxed. Mrs Danby sighed and picked up the Super Bertha platform, and stood it up against the wall. Charlotte squatted down, then sat carefully on the edge of the box, arranging her breasts about her.
"We finished just in time, I think it's Charlotte's milking time again. God, they feel full."
"They are!" Mrs Danby grinned at her. "I've just measured you again. Maybe it's only because we were using the Super Bertha, but you've gone up to 175 inches!"
"Good grief! No wonder they feel as if they're bursting." Jacqui mounted the box behind Charlotte and gently massaged her shoulders.
"Oh, that's so beautiful, darling. Don't stop!"
Jacqui had been doing her best to steal every scene in the Super Bertha sequence. In every shot, regardless of the action she was supposed to be doing; fastening the body-band, attaching the hinged platform, winding the crank handle, hooking on the shoulder straps, the French girl had not missed an opportunity to display her awesome thatch. She presented her rear view to the lens, bending over with her legs spread. She found opportunities to raise her arms and display her armpits. She even posed with one foot up on the box while fitting the hinge pin. Geoff had come in for a low angle shot, earning a good- natured ticking-off from Debbie, his lover and boss.
Donna and Lynda volunteered to hold the babies for their feed.
Jacqui gave Charlotte a neck massage.
Mrs Danby put the kettle on and made coffee.
 
 
  The workroom looked empty and three times as big once Geoff and Debbie had cleared all their lights away and driven off into the growing streams of traffic.
"Well, who'd have thought it of those two," Charlotte said wonderingly.
"Whose place do you think they're going to?" Debbie giggled.
Lynda had a twinge of regret on her face. "Geoff lives with his dad," she said. "They can't go there."
"Debs might have to turn her girlfriend out, then," Donna said.
"Talking of loving couples, I suppose I'd better go down the nick and reclaim my servants," Charlotte sighed. "Who's got a big enough car?"
"You could just about get in mine," Donna said casually. "If you don't mind the dog hairs in the back."
"It's either that or Mrs Danby's van. I suppose the car would be more dignified, since I need to create a favourable impression on the boys in blue. Arriving in the back of a van is so infra dig, I always think."
Jacqui, still naked apart from her covering of lush fur, was helping her mistress into her clothes.
"You wish for me to look after the twins, madame?"
"Why don't you all go down to the police station," Mrs Danby suggested. "Jacqui can keep you company. I'll look after the babies for you."
"Would you mind, Mrs D?"
"It's been a few years, but I think I can just about remember how to look after babies. Go on, the lot of you, get yourselves down to the police station. When you lot walk in there, they'll think it's all their birthdays and Christmas rolled into one!"
"Jacqui had better get dressed first." Donna was eyeing the French girl with something approaching naked lust. "It won't take her long."
 
 
  The police station seemed unusually crowded. Not only on the public side of the counter, where four young women stood, each in her own way outrageously excessive. It was also busy behind the counter, where an inordinate number of police officers were coming and going. They each seemed to be carrying a video cassette.
Charlotte was laying down the law in a booming voice. "No, as I told you, sergeant, the young lady is Mr Maxwell's fiancée. I know she doesn't look very old, but she is, in fact, older than me. And no, she is not my older sister. Nor, before you ask, are these two young ladies. They are no relation at all. This other lady is my nanny, Mademoiselle Ducellier. Now, if you have quite finished with them, I would like my chauffeur, my scullery maid, and my Mercedes-Benz."
The sergeant opened and closed his mouth like a fish. Finally, he smiled a secret little smile. "Just how old is the young gir ... the lady, Miss fforbes-Davenport?"
"Twenty," insisted Charlotte. "Or so she says," she muttered under her breath.
"Good." The sergeant looked suddenly pleased with himself. In the absence of a clear winner, the sweepstake money would become the property of the organiser. He turned to a stocky police woman with almost as much hair on her upper lip as Jacqui had on her entire groin area. "Release Maxwell and the girl, Rossiter," he ordered.
"How old is she, sarge? The lads need to know."
"The girl already told you, Rossiter. She's twenty, like she said."
"So who won the sweep?"
"Nobody."
"You mean you did. That's the last time I go in for one of your competitions."
Maxwell appeared, unshaven and haggard. Seconds later, Lucy came out of another door. She was carrying a plastic carrier bag and looked cool and fresh in an extra large T-shirt with 'I Hate Pigs!' across the front. The logo rippled fascinatingly as she moved. She greeted Maxwell with a hug.
"Poo, you're all hairy and smelly," she whined, rubbing herself up against him. Her nipples grew another quarter of an inch. "Let's fuck, Maxwell, sweetie!"
"Not in the nick, love. Let's get away from here first."
"Oooh, look!" Lucy pointed at the video cassette in Maxwell's pocket. "They gave you one as well!"
 
 
  Maxwell drove the Mercedes with his mistress in the front seat. Donna and Lynda tagged along behind, with Jacqui and Lucy in the back seats.
Jacqui immediately curled up and went to sleep, her skirt riding up almost to her waist.
"Ain't she hairy!" Lucy ran her fingers through the French girl's rug, like stroking a cat. She was restless, eager, as if she had enjoyed a good night's rest. "You two have both got really huge tits," Lucy observed, leaning over the seat and slipping her hand between the exuberant outer curves of the two big girls' breasts. There was no gap between them; in fact, Donna's left breast was squashed firmly against Lynda's right. "I noticed them earlier, while I was fucking Maxwell. Looking at big tits always makes me horny. Do you think Miss Charlotte would let me have Mrs Danby make me some bras?"
"I don't see why not," said Donna.
"I've never had a bra. Not for ... ooh ... three years, when I was only ... when I was almost no age at all. These things are okay, but they're getting ever so bouncy lately now I've suddenly started growing so big. And my nipples stick out so much, too. Hey, do you think she'd make me one with holes in the ends so my nips could stick out?"
Donna and Lynda looked at each other. Lynda's hand rested briefly on her friend's thigh.
"Corrr, are you two lezzies? You ought to come down to the Manor one of these days on my day off. You could show me what to do." She stuck her tongue into Lynda's ear, then did the same for Donna, and began a slow massage of Donna's shoulders.
"That would be nice, Lucy," Donna grinned at her in the interior mirror. They followed the Mercedes into the front driveway of Mrs Danby's house.
Lucy rummaged in her carrier bag. "Here, you can have one of these. You've got a video machine at home?"
 
 
  end Chapter 13