RETURN OF THE GOLDEN GOOSE

by Some Sort of Dog

Chapter 24:- Little Squirting Lucy

"Lucy. Just take it off, okay!" Debbie stood with arms akimbo and laid down the law. "All this helpless little girl stuff has gone quite far enough!"

"But I can't! It's too tight. I can't even get my arms round the back to undo the hooks."

"It does look very tight, Debs," said Maggie. "And she seems to be having problems getting her hands round the back."

"Geoff doesn't want her to move right now. He wants her in the same pose, before and after. If she has to come over there for one of you to take her bra off, we'll never get her back in the right place again. One of you will have to go over there and take it off for her. Carefully! Don't let her move."

"I'll do it!" Lynda was already crawling over the bed to get behind Lucy.

There followed a moment of tension.

"It won't come undone," said Lynda. "All the hooks are too tight. I can't even undo the first one."

"Useless bitch!"

"Let me try," said Maggie, and she climbed on to the bed and shouldered Lynda roughly aside. There was a brief period of silence. "It's no use, Debs. She's right."

"I told you they wouldn't come undone ..."

"Do I have to do everything myself round here?" Debbie advanced on the bed, watched by a wide-eyed Lucy. She almost hauled Maggie out of the way and scrambled on to the bed. "It's all wet up here," she complained. "What's been going on?"

"Sorry, that was me," said Lucy, Lynda and Maggie, all more or less at the same time.

Debbie struggled in silence for a moment or two. Obviously, she was having no more success than anyone else had. "You got a pen- knife, Geoff? These hooks are way too tight."

"I don't know why Mrs Danby didn't use velcro, same as she did on mine," Donna said.

"Hooks are better in the washing machine, apparently," said Maggie. "Careful with that knife, Geoff!"

"I can get the knife into the hook," said Geoff, "but the metal is so strong, it will hardly bend enough to get the hook out of the eye. Where does she buy these things?"

"She has a special supplier. They're heavy duty hooks. I suppose they need to be!"

"Well, it's no good. It won't come off. We'll have to cut it off her!"

"No!" Lucy screamed and scrambled off the bed, leaving Geoff and Debbie sprawling and grasping for her.

"She's moved now," Geoff pointed out unnecessarily. "The previous shot will have to be done again."

"It won't matter if we can't get her bra off, will it!" Debbie said sulkily. "Who arranged all this, anyway? Sending her along with one pair of pants and a bra that won't undo? Yet another Cunis cock-up!"

"Don't blame me," Maggie yelled. "You're the ones who made the girl squirt. And her bra fit her two days ago. You can't blame me if she's still growing."

"There's no point in carrying on now, anyway," said Geoff. "We'll have to do it all again next week or something. And try and have the model properly prepared next time."

Maggie bit her tongue. "Come on, Lucy," she said. Lucy approached her uncertainly.

"You're not going to cut my bra off, are you?"

"No, love. Of course not. Let's have one last try at those nasty hooks."

"It's so tight, Donna! What will happen?"

"Hang in there, Lucy! At least, until we get home. We can't do anything on the train, can we!"

They stood and clung to the supports as the train swayed through a station. Whose brilliant idea had it been to travel home by train at the same time as half the working population of London? The other passengers regarded them curiously.

At least three passengers had already offered the apparently heavily pregnant Donna a seat, but she had refused, preferring to stand next to poor Lucy, who was becoming increasingly uncomfortable. Lynda had been less choosy. On the last occasion, when a man in a suit had offered his seat to Donna, Lynda had thanked him and sat down herself, flopping one of her breasts down in the lap of her neighbour while the other one hung over into the central aisle. Her fellow travellers stared at her in critical silence for a while, their lips curling, before returning to their Evening Standard, having put the appalling slut firmly in her place.

"Won't be long, Lucy." Donna put an arm round the poor tearful girl, forcing the passengers to blush and look the other way. Such dreadful displays of naked emotion in a public place! Passengers were already mentally composing furiously indignant e-mails to the management of Chiltern Railways.

"We're there." Donna led the charge for the doors, and scrambled out on to the platform, towing Lucy along by the hand. Lynda stumbled out of the train seconds before the doors hissed shut.

"Don't tell anyone, will you!" she complained.

"You knew we were getting off at Amersham. Do I have to hold your hand for you?" Donna was not best pleased with Lynda.

"You're too busy holding her hand, that's why!"

"What's that supposed to mean?" They crossed the footbridge and set off for the car park. It was a hundred yards through the drizzling rain, and their summer T-shirts were quickly soaked. Running was out of the question, of course. By the time they were in the car, Lynda and Donna were practically at each other's throats.

"You were all over her the whole time, wearing her pants on your face!"

"I wasn't!" Lynda blushed scarlet as Lucy stared at her open- mouthed. "At least, I was there, not driving off with Maggie to crawl into bed in the middle of the day."

"We didn't! We didn't do anything. And who was the first to volunteer to take Lucy's bra off?"

"Somebody had to do it. Your tits are so fat, you'd never have been able to get on the bed, not without breaking it."

Lucy suddenly began howling in earnest.

"Shut up, you!" the two contestants screamed at her.

Silence fell instantly. Donna started the car. They all wanted to laugh, but nobody dared be first.

"That's right, Mrs Danby, we couldn't undo the hooks. Even Geoff, and he had a knife!"

"Oh, my goodness. Those hooks were a new design. I've never tried them before. Have you got it off yet?"

"No, and she says it's even tighter now. We took her T-shirt off and her boobs really are bulging out of the cups." Donna looked across at Lucy, who started to cry again on cue. She looked faintly ridiculous, crying her eyes out with a chicken leg in one hand and half a potato in the other, but she wasn't about to put those down in case Lynda grabbed them.

"You'll have to let her sleep in it, then. I'll come up tomorrow morning. It's really out of my way, but I'll be there about ten."

"Couldn't we just cut it off now? It's obviously too small."

"No!" Lucy screamed and backed away into a corner to gnaw at her chicken.

"I think I heard that as well as you did," said Mrs Danby. "She'll be all right. Tell her I'll bring a nice big bra for her to wear in the morning, and it will make her happy. She won't explode or anything. My bras are very strong, and young girls' breasts don't often burst. Not overnight, anyway. See you in the morning."

"'Night!"

"It's amazing! I'd never have believed a girl could grow so much in such a short time!"

"You brought a new bra for her, Mrs D?" Laura poured a cup of tea and handed it to the bra lady, who was staring at Lucy, shaking her head.

"I brought one, but I'm not sure it will be anywhere near big enough for her. She's practically exploding out of that one."

"It's all right, Lucy, love!" Laura hugged Lucy comfortingly. "It's only a figure of speech, darling!"

"Let's cut that one off, anyway. Have you got a big pair of scissors, Mrs Fielding?"

Laura found a pair. "Only these. They're not very sharp, I'm afraid."

Mrs Danby tried them, but gave up. "No good. I'll get mine out of the van."

"Finish your tea. The girls can bring them in when they get back from the village. Hang on, I've got a pair of garden shears in the shed..." Laura came back after a few minutes of clattering about noisily outside. "Try these."

"They look sharp enough," said Mrs Danby. "Stand up, Lucy."

The wooden handles of the shears were about three feet long. The blades were only about as long as your hand, and were more or less at right angles to the handles. The tool was designed for cutting lawn edges without unpleasant bending. For removing a too-tight bra from a growing girl, it was a fearsome thing indeed. Lucy stood by the wall, looking apprehensively over her shoulder.

"Try and pull the body band away from her back, Mrs Fielding. I'll slip the shears underneath."

"God, it's tight!"

"Ouch, they're cold!"

"Hold the cups, Mrs Fielding!"

'CRRRUNCCHHH!'

"It's off!"

"Owww!"

"Bloody hell! Look at them!"

The nearly new bra lay on the kitchen floor. Laura picked it up and unfastened the hooks two at a time. "Two, four, six, eight! Just like that. Would you believe it?"

"I'll have to have a word with the suppliers. Once they're part of a bra, you can't get them at the right angle to unhook them. It's a good job I haven't used them for anyone else's bra. Let's have a good look at you then, Lucy."

Mrs Danby placed her hands under Lucy's breasts and felt their weight and fullness. "I'd say they haven't stopped growing. It's a remarkable growth spurt. Never seen anything remotely like it, in all my years. She can perhaps wear one of the bigger bras I brought with me, but it will be a tight squeeze, and it might not last more than another day or so. Look at her areolae, all puffed up like that. They look just like a young girl who's just started developing. At least, if there's one blessing, it's that her nipples are a little more in proportion now. Not much, but every little helps."

"They hurt, Auntie Laura!"

"Poor sweetie! Look at your poor little shoulders, where the nasty straps have been digging into you. And your poor boobies are all covered in red marks." Laura hugged the girl, feeling tears come into her eyes. "Oh, the poor little thing. I feel so sorry for her. What can we do?"

"She won't carry on growing for ever. We'll get her something that fits, don't worry. Ah, if that's the girls coming back, we'll get them to bring Super Bertha in."

"Wow, Chief!" Maggie put the phone down. "Mrs Danby says it's little wonder we couldn't get that bra off. They had to cut through the strap with a pair of garden shears. She's just measured Lucy again, she says. An inch bigger all over, apart from her bust, and that's gone up to fifty-seven. She says we might be wise not to attempt shooting the rest of Lucy's pictures until she stops growing. Or at least, until she slows down a bit. It's incredible. Even Mrs Danby has never seen the like of it before."

"Any of the proofs ready from yesterday yet?"

"We won't be able to use them, but Geoff's having them biked over even as we speak. He sounded impressed. So did Debs. She wanted to say sorry. We had a bit of a slanging match yesterday when we couldn't get the bra to come off. It's a bit naughty of Duncan, sloping off like that and leaving those two to carry the can. They really do very well between the two of them."

"Young lovers! Well, if this Lucy of yours is still getting bigger, perhaps Mrs Danby is right, although it gives me an idea for a great layout. Imagine it..." Wilma waved her hands and drew pictures in the air. "Picture one, Lucy in her ordinary clothes, just as she first walked into the studio. Then a quick shot or two of her in bra and panties. Then with her bra really bulging with overflowing flesh...!"

"Chief, please, you're getting me soaked!"

"I'm making you soaked? What do you think I'm doing to me?" She continued. "Then the bra off, and she puts on a bigger bra! She shows us the label..."

"No good, Chief. Mrs Danby's bra labels only show the body band size, not the cups."

"Damn! Never mind. So make each bra a different colour, and obviously bigger. End up with her giving up in disgust and standing there in just her pants. A great big full page shot at the end. What do you think?"

"Think, Chief? I dunno, it might just work!"

A courier came in and laid his crash helmet on the desk, his radio squawking incomprehensible gibberish at them. Maggie signed for the package and tore it open with shaking hands.

"Well? Who's the bloody editor round here? Are you going to show me those photos or not?"

Silently, Maggie passed them over.

"Jeezus H Christ!"

"See what I mean?"

"Look at them!"

"Look at what? Her tits, or her...?"

"Both!"

"Look at this one!"

"And this!"

"This one's best. Look at it!"

"I'm looking, I'm looking. That stuff must be spraying three feet in the air. How did Geoff fake that?"

"Fake it? Chief...!"

Wilma scrabbled in her desk for a magnifier. She had to hold the picture down on the desk with one hand to stop it shaking about while she studied it at close quarters.

"Oh, my God!" she breathed.

"What can you see, Chief?"

Wilma pushed the picture across to Maggie and handed over the magnifier. "Her finger. The middle finger of her right hand. Where is it?"

Maggie stared at the picture for several seconds. "I said it wasn't a fake, Chief!" She placed the magnifier on the picture and slid it across to the editor again. "What do you think?"

"Think? Well, we'd better lose that layout of Fat Fanny Allbright for the next issue. Little Squirting Lucy's going in, no question. And we'll do her Lucy Grows Up sequence the month after that." Wilma reached into her desk drawer. "Here's a blank cheque made out to Mrs Danby. Whatever it costs, Mags, just do it!"

end Chapter 24