RETURN OF THE GOLDEN GOOSE

by Some Sort of Dog
 
 
 
 
 

Chapter 20:- I Just Get Bigger And Bigger The Whole Time


 
 
  "Look at the little tart! She stuffs that sweater as well as I do!"
"Not quite! Although she is so tiny, her breasts are a lot bigger than you'd think. I must say, that sweater looks good on her. Even though it is nearly down to her knees. Whose idea was it to tie that scarf round the middle?"
"Hers, the bitch. Just because her waist is only half as big as mine, she wants to show off. And as for those ridiculous nipples...!"
"Lynda! I do believe you're jealous! Of young Lucy!"
They both leaned on the window sill and looked out at the little scullery maid for a while, becoming more moist by the minute.
"Why is she washing the car, anyway," Lynda asked eventually.
"She wanted to. It was dirty. I think my mum usually has somebody come round to wash it. Half a dozen boys from the village..." Donna's voice faded away as the ghastly thought occurred to her.
Lucy stood on a stool and leaned against the car to wash the roof.
"I can't stand here watching her all morning," said Lynda after another twenty minutes or so. She adjusted the crotch of her panties and pulled up her jeans. "I'm going for a shower. Trigger will be here in half an hour. Could you send him straight into my bedroom when he arrives?"
 
 
  "She's in her bedroom, waiting for you. She said you're to go straight in."
Trigger had just come into the house, visibly drained. Lucy followed, re-fastening the belt round her miniscule waist. Her bra was hanging casually over one shoulder. She cupped her breasts, which looked surprisingly large. They were certainly extremely heavy, swaying massively some way below her waist, with the nipples pointing at a slightly unhappy angle somewhere below the horizontal.
"I can't see Lynnie, not for half an hour," Trigger gasped. "I'm shagged out."
"Oh, go on, Trig," chirped Lucy brightly. "Get in there and give her one. You only lasted twenty minutes out there with me."
"I still haven't recovered from last night, remember. Did you see what she was doing to me in the pub, Don? She got my dick out and slipped it into her puss without anyone knowing."
"She did?"
Lucy blushed slightly and toyed with her nipples again.
"She's tight as a duck's arse, yet it's all muscle control. She's big enough to take three like me at the same time. That's how she did it. She just opened wide and I nearly slid into her sideways."
"Oh, Trigger, stop it! You're embarrassing Donna! Now go on and screw big Lynnie. And I'll see you later and finish you off, okay?"
He lumbered away on rubber legs.
"He was joking about last night, Don. Nothing happened. I told you. He's just got a fertile imagination. Do you think I'm stretching Lynnie's sweater out of shape? I don't want her to be mad at me."
"I'm sure it's not in any danger yet," said Donna, removing Lucy's casually draped bra from her shoulder with a flick of the wrist. "Although looking at the state of this thing, I'm not so certain. How long have you had this bra?"
"Last week. Mrs Danby made it for me when we finished making pictures of the mistress and I got back from the police station gagging for a shag. She said it was a 26-W. I asked her if that was good, but she wouldn't give me a straight answer. Anyway, she only made me one, she said it was in case I grew some more."
Donna inspected the stretched cups and the distended holes where Lucy's nipples and areolae had been poking through for the past week.
"It must have shrunk, Lucy. Look at it!"
"It can't have shrunk. It hasn't been washed. That's why it's gone that funny colour and it smells so much. Maxwell says it smells of me. He told me not to wash it ever."
"I think you'd better see Mrs Danby again anyway. She does house calls now. She's due here on Tuesday with my latest bras, so if you're still here, she can take another look at you."
"If I'm still here? Don't let them take me away, Don!"
"If Charlotte comes looking for you, we'll have to let you go. It would be kidnapping. People can't go around stealing each other's scullery maids. Society as we know it would break down."
"You didn't steal me, I volunteered. Anyway, now I'm working for Trigger, I'm not a scullery maid any more. I'm doing it for you and your mum and Lynda as an amateur. I'm a professional scrubber. Funny, Maxwell said I ought to be a professional scrubber, now I am one."
"I'll put this bra in the wash," said Donna. "At least, if you shrink again, it might fit you."
"I'll have to go without, then. It's okay, if I don't try to run or jump up and down too much. I'm not going to shrink, though. I just get bigger and bigger the whole time."
Donna's eyes widened. "You sure you don't just get bigger before your periods?"
"Nah. I used to, but the doctor gave me some funny pills, and now I just get bigger the whole time. It's better than getting bigger and smaller and bigger and smaller. The mistress pays for all my clothes and stuff."
"But who's going to pay for them now you've run away from the manor?"
"I'll earn enough from Trigger. He hasn't really mentioned money, but he'll probably pay me something. I'll be able to buy my own things. Or I can borrow Lynda's." She poked Donna playfully in the bosom. And later on, when I get too big for her stuff, I can borrow yours. Until I get too big!"
 
 
  Maggie plugged a finger in her right ear and pressed the phone more firmly to her left.
"You'll have to speak up a bit, Charlotte. I can hardly hear you."
There followed about twenty seconds of rustling and muffled curses, before Charlotte's voice came booming through the earpiece. "Is that any better, Maggie? What did you want? I am rather tied up at the moment."
"I won't detain you, then. All I really wanted to know was if you'd mind if I had a word or two with your scullery maid."
More rustling, a muffled bang, and a series of aristocratic giggles. The telephone handset at the other end was apparently covered, but then Charlotte's voice clearly said, "Maxwell, darling, do stop it. I'll only be a minute. I'll just get rid of her."
"I beg your pardon? Charlotte, can you hear me?"
"I say, you didn't hear that, did you? I thought I had the phone pressed to my boob. What were you saying about my scullery maid? Young Lucy?"
"Yes. I'd like a word with her."
"Well, if you can find her, she's all yours. She's run away."
"Run away? You mean, she's left the manor?"
"Yep. No idea why. She had everything she could wish for. Nice cosy little room of her own, free uniform, food, and all the sex she could handle. In fact..." there was more rustling and a distinctly feminine yelp "...in fact, perhaps not quite as much sex as she could have handled. I've been rather monopolising Maxwell just lately, and that's probably pissed her off. Knowing young Lucy, she'll be gagging for it by now. So if you can think of any place where she might be getting it...?"
 
 
  "Well, you're certainly not a W-cup any more!"
Mrs Danby whisked the tape measure from round her neck and made as if to measure Lucy's bust, then she changed her mind and sat down on the settee.
"I will have that other cup of coffee, Mrs Fielding, if you don't mind," she said.
Lynda took Mrs Danby's mug and Donna obliged with the coffee pot. Laura glowered at the two friends, who had settled down to watch Lucy being measured, as if it were a spectator sport. "Haven't you two got anything else to do? It's a nice day outside. You could take Rachel walkies."
"It's all right, Mum, I took her this morning before you were awake."
"We'd rather watch Mrs Danby, Mrs Fielding."
Lucy had been unusually quiet. She suddenly made a squeaking noise, and sobbed loudly.
"What's the matter, sweetie?" Mrs Danby said. "Come here, love. Sit next to me."
Lucy did, but chose to sit on Mrs Danby's lap. Lucy's left nipple came to rest in the bra maker's mouth.
"Oops! Sorry, Mrs Danby!" Lucy removed it.
"Now, what's the matter, child?"
"If I'm not a 26-W any more, does that mean I've shrunk?"
"Shrunk? Look at your bra, girl! Shrunk? Good grief! You've probably run out of alphabet."
Lynda moaned, and turned it into a cough when Mrs Fielding looked sharply at her. Lucy began crying again.
"Shut up, girl! What is it this time?"
"If there aren't any letters left, that means I can't have a new bra."
"Don't be silly. Look at Lynda and Donna. They're way beyond Z, both of them. The letters don't matter, I just make bigger bras."
"I always wondered about that." Laura said. Donna thought her mother sounded like one of those characters in detective stories who always had to have the whole plot explained to them in the final scene. "When you reach the end of the alphabet, what happens? How do you tell anyone what their bra size is?"
"I don't. Lynda might well be a J-cup for the second time around, and Donna, well ... she's nearly on her fourth lap of the alphabet! There is a woman who's devised a system based on the height of the person as well as the bust measurement. It all sounds a bit complicated to me. Anyway, she's gone over to the States to work."
"They have more big busted girls over there?"
"No, just the usual amount, but the population's bigger, so she thinks she'll have a bigger market. Anyway, if you ever hear of Susan Shaw, or the Level Bra System, that's her. I think what it means is that if your bust is the same as your height, you become Level Two. If your bust ever reaches twice your height, God forbid, you're a Level Three."
Donna blushed and exchanged sheepish grins with Lynda.
"I don't know if Susan Shaw has found many Level Two girls yet, but next time I see her, I'm going to tell her I've got one Level Three girl already, and two more who aren't far off. And maybe even a third, well on her way!"
Lucy swelled with pride.
"Come on, young Lucy, jump down before you burst that thing of yours. Get your bra off. How much do you dangle without it?"
"About this much," said Lucy, holding her hands a few inches below the present position of the bottoms of her grossly swollen bra cups.
"Okay, then I know what I'll do. Keep your bra on for a minute. Donna, slip out to my van and bring Super Bertha in. The body band for Lucy's new bra is in a plastic bag. Lynnie, you go too. The old Bertha's in there as well, in a cardboard box in the back. Bring the lot: It's about time I did some real comparisons."
 
 
  "I've got the Bertha, Don," Lynda cried excitedly. "I'll take it in. Don't want to miss anything."
Donna grunted and continued rummaging. She had found the breast support platform for the Super Bertha, but the bag containing the body band was nowhere to be seen. Then she tried a plastic carrier bag with a supermarket logo on it, and there it was. She crawled to the back doors of the van, and climbed out, just as a smart car swung into the front drive. Maggie's car?
"Hi, Donna! How's it going?"
Maggie got out and reached into the back seat for her briefcase. She looked cool and fresh in a simple pale blue low-necked shift-style dress, perhaps a little on the short side. No doubt, the truck drivers would have enjoyed the view as Maggie's BMW passed them on the motorway.
"Hi, Mags." Donna stood up and hauled the Super Bertha platform out of the back of the van, resting it on the ground. She looked at Maggie with interest. "You look different somehow. Is it the glasses?"
"New ones, yes. You like them?" She arranged for Donna to get the view from her best angle.
"They suit you. And your hair. I ... I mean, you look great!"
"Thanks!" Maggie looked at Donna and shook her head slowly. The girl was bigger every time she saw her. "You're looking fantastic, Don," she said quietly, her throat feeling strangely constricted.
"If you mean my bust, Mags, you're looking pretty fantastic yourself," said Donna, immediately going bright red. She ducked her head into the van again to hide her embarrassment.
"Is this Mrs Danby's van?"
"Yeah, just fetching the Super Bertha for her. She's going to measure young Lucy again!"
"Lucy? You mean Charlotte's Lucy? She's here?"
"Yes, she's been here nearly a week. Apparently she ran away from the manor. She wants to work here. In fact, she's got a job with the local window cleaner-cum-super-stud."
"Let me carry that for you." Maggie tucked her briefcase under her arm and took the measuring platform, leaving Donna with the plastic bag. "It's not heavy, but you have enough problems with your breasts, without trying to carry a thing this size."
"Thanks, Mags." Donna caught up with Maggie and walked close to her. Close enough to smell the woman's musky perfume and feel the warmth of her body as they stopped by the open front door. Donna suddenly felt overpoweringly horny again, and Maggie seemed to know, somehow.
"We don't want to miss all the fun, do we?" Maggie said, as if she would happily have stayed outside here with Donna for the rest of the morning.
"I suppose not. You should just see young Lucy! She's nearly bursting that bra Mrs Danby made for her ten days ago!"
"You've persuaded me. This I must not miss!"
 
 
  "Maggie!" Laura jumped up and made a dash for the coffee pot. "I'll refill this. God, you look fantastic! What have you been doing with yourself?"
Maggie felt herself getting moist again. Everyone was noticing her new appearance. It wasn't just the new glasses and hair. It was the exaggerated way she overfilled this dress. On the motorway, with the sun-roof open, she had almost caused several accidents as she passed truckers, who were able to see her dress riding up almost to her crotch, with a very similar view down her cleavage. She had been so totally hot, she had been forced to stop as soon as she had got on to the quiet country roads. It had been half an hour before she felt able to drive on.
Now, she watched as Mrs Danby performed her walk-round of Lucy, like a pilot carrying out preflight checks. Having satisfied herself that nothing was about to fall off the girl, she knelt down and started her well-ordered measuring routine.
"Ouch, my poor back! You ought to try growing upwards, instead of outwards, girl." Mrs Danby hummed a little tune to herself as she draped the tape around Lucy's neat bottom, now clad in a rather austere pair of cotton panties. She made no comment, and proceeded up to Lucy's waist. "Have you been stuffing yourself with Mrs Fielding's cooking?" she demanded sternly.
"Not especially," said Lucy, quietly.
"You lying toad!" shouted Lynda.
"You little pig," said Donna. "What is she now, Mrs D?"
Mrs Danby consulted her tattered notebook. "An inch more on the hips since last time. So she's about the same size as you, now."
"Yuck! I bet half of that's her pussy lips," growled Lynda.
"And her waist is up to sixteen inches!"
"Oh," Lynda sounded disappointed.
"And her chest is up to twenty-two. So she'd better go up to the next size of body band. It's just as well, there'll be more to hang the cups on. And by the look of these, we'll need plenty of room for cups!"
"Another cup for you, Mrs Danby?" Laura came back into the room.
"No thanks, I'm bursting as it is." She ran the tape around the bulging sides of the bra, and balanced it precariously on the naked, wobbling nipples. "Oops! Hold it on there, Lucy love. Right, you can let go, now." She wrote something in her book with a secret smile on her face.
"She's not going to tell us!" Lynda gasped.
"Come on, Mrs D!"
Four eager faces stared at the bra maker in eager anticipation.
"You dreadful women! Look at you, positively drooling. A girl has to have some secrets between herself and her bra maker."
"What was it, Lucy," Donna asked.
"I couldn't see," Lucy giggled playfully. "And anyway, the numbers were upside down."
Laura was trying to see the notebook. Mrs Danby slapped at her hand. "You're as bad as the others, Laura. I expected better from you."
"Well, tell us how big she is, then!"
"Shan't! Take your bra off, Lucy, let's get on."
Lucy reached behind her, the movement making her areolae bulge lewdly out of the cut away apertures at the ends of her cups. "It's too tight, Mrs Danby!" she complained.
"I'll help you," Lynda sprang forward, and unfastened the hooks. It seemed to take her rather a long time. The others looked at her as if wishing they had volunteered as well.
"This will be more difficult without the bra," said Mrs Danby. "Hold them still for me, Lynnie!"
Lynda grinned round at the audience and gently cupped Lucy's breasts. "Shall I hold them up for you?" she asked longingly.
"Yes, please. Not right up there! Just hold them level. Like that. Good!" The tape went round Lucy, and the numbers went into the book. "You can let them go now, thanks. Lynnie! You can let them ... thank you! Right, then. Let's try the old Bertha."
The girls happily acted as Mrs Danby's assistants as she assembled the platforms of the Bertha and attached the whole thing to Lucy. They acted even more happily when the turn came for the Super Bertha. Even Lucy's stupendous boobs appeared lost complared to the giant Super Bertha platform, but Mrs Danby pronounced herself pleased with the device.
"It makes it easier, once it's assembled. When Rick gets the new one built, it will be even simpler. I'll be able to do it on my own." She wrote the last figure in her book, and scratched her head. "I will have that coffee now, thanks."
"No, sorry!"
"What?" Mrs Danby was aghast.
"You can have another cup when you tell us what those numbers are." Laura's words brought a murmur of approval from the others.
Mrs Danby laughed and held out her mug. "All right. I was going to tell you at the end, anyway. I was right. Super Bertha does seem to add a bit to the bust measurement," Mrs Danby glanced at Maggie and added hurriedly, "but as long as I always use it from now on, it won't make a difference to Donna's growth money."
"It doesn't worry me," said Maggie. "BJ always pays. What about young Lucy, anyway?"
Mrs Danby cleared her throat importantly. "Lucy wore a 26-W bra last week. As you can all see, it is now too small. Wearing the bra today, she's gone up to fifty-one inches, and she was fifty-two with Lynnie holding them up."
Lynda backed away and stood close to the back of the settee, pressing her groin against it and closing her eyes.
"The old Bertha isn't the best way of measuring a girl with such a small chest as Lucy, and she was back to about fifty inches using that method."
Lucy looked utterly crestfallen.
"But Super Bertha is the definitive method these days, and using Super Bertha, Lucy's bust is fifty-four and a half!" Mrs Danby closed the notebook. "Here endeth the lesson," she intoned.
"That's two inches bigger than her height," Donna breathed.
"Yeah, she'd be a Level Two girl, if I went in for such nonsense. Really, though, she's just a plain old 28-Z cup."
Behind the settee, Lynda moaned again.
 
 
  end Chapter 20