Dr Hooters - Pt XLIII 
by the Road Dog
ASHLEY 


 Candy's  daughter Ashley was a bright star in Amanda's darkening
firmament. The nine-year old was insatiably curious about Amanda,
and  almost  never left her side except when her mother made her.
Ashley kept wondering what made Amanda so different from the oth-
er  grown-up ladies she knew.  The words she used when Ashley and
she were talking together alone  weren't  the  sort  of  words  a
grown-up would use. No, they were kid-words.

 Also,  Amanda  seemed so much better informed about Ashley's fa-
vorite television programs, her favorite musical groups, the lat-
est  trends  in  clothing  and  hair  styles, than even the best-
informed grown-up.

 "Damn, Amanda", Ashley told her as the two of them were relaxing
in  the back yard early one evening.  "If you weren't so big, I'd
swear you were just a kid like me!"

 Amanda blew a puff of cigarette smoke across  the  yard  towards
the  tall  wooden  fence  that surrounded the cottage and gave it
such priceless privacy. "I am, Ashley",  she  confessed.   "Truth
is,  you're  older than I am."  "Not even!  You're at least nine-
teen.  I can tell.  Probably more like twenty-two!"  To  Ashley's
way of thinking, this was like being ready for Social Security.

 "I'm  only  eight  years  old,  Ashley.  I'll be nine in August,
though."  Amanda took another drag on the cigaratte and passed it
conspiratorily to Ashley, who dragged on it like a veteran.

 "Go  ON!", shouted Ashley.  "Eight year old kids don't have tit-
ties like yours.  Shit, even mine  are  just  beginning  to  come
out."   She  indicated  her  undeveloped chest, where her nipples
were just beginning to bud.  "Your nipples are  bigger  than  all
these other ladies' tits in this house."

 "Well, I don't have to convince you, you know.  No one else will
believe me, either, and its a lot easier being a  grown-up.   You
get  to  stay up late, drink, smoke, swear, and talk about guys."
Amanda rubbed the sides of her mammoth breasts, each  one  easily
half  the  size  of Ashley's whole body. "I'd rather have you be-
lieve me, though.  It'd be nice to have someone I could be a  kid
around."

 Ashley's  eyes  narrowed.   "Who's  the  buffest  of  the  Power
Rangers?"

 "Billy", Amanda replied. "No contest."

 "Who's Danielle's boyfriend on Last House on the Block?", Ashley
continued the catechism.

 "Rodney.   And  he's  so  FINE!",  laughed  Amanda.   "He almost
dropped her for Jessica, you know, last show of the  season,  but
Harley  told  him  what Jessica thought about Murphy, and he went
back to Danielle."

 "Who was Macarena's boyfriend", Ashley continued, referring to a
Cuban disco song that became an improbable crossover hit a couple
of summers previously.  It was  a  much  sexier  song  than  pre-
teenagers  had  any  business listening to, so, naturally, it was
wildly popular among them as well.

 "Nicolino", replied Amanda, correctly.

 "EEEEEeeee!", shouted Ashley.  "I've got one!  No grown-up would
ever NEVER know this one! What's the absolutely, positively, most
grossest thing they serve in the school cafeteria?"

 "Grosser than ham-and-cheese sandwiches", asked Amanda.

 "EEE-e-ew-w-w!", Ashley responded with acute disgust.  "No, even
grosser than that."

 Amanda  laughed.  "Has to be Mystery Meat, then", she countered,
referring to a dish that was served as a greyish slab  from  time
to time.

 "No. Grosser even than that.  C'mon, Amanda."

 "Creamed beef on toast!!!", shouted Amanda triumphantly.

 "EEEEE-e-e-e-w-w-w-w-www!   Barf  buckets!",  shouted both girls
simultaneously.  Ashley threw her arms around Amanda's neck.

 "I believe you", she said quietly.  "What's it like being grown-
up?"

 Amanda  lit another cigarette, took a puff and passed it to Ash-
ley.  "I don't know, really.  My tits got big at the end  of  the
school year last year, but then I was kidnapped, and held prison-
er for, oh what is it now, June twentieth, twenty-first?   I  was
held  prisoner  for  at  least two or three weeks. That's when my
tits got really, really big, like they are now."

 "Kidnapped?"  "Yeah, my whole family got kidnapped.   I  haven't
been  able  to find my sister, my mother or my grandmother.  When
we escaped from the lady who kidnapped me, we ran into  a  storm,
and  I  got  washed up here.  I think it has something to do with
our tits, mine and my sister Blair's.  She got real big too, big-
ger 'n me."

 "We?", Ashley asked. "Who's we?"

 "Me  and  this boy", answered Amanda.  "His name was Scotty, and
he was the nephew of the lady who kidnapped me. He got  big  too,
but  in a boy-kind-of-way.  He fell overboard and we got separat-
ed.  I don't think he drowned, though."

 "This is way cool", affirmed Ashley.  "Like  a  comic  book,  or
like the X-Men! How long are you going to live with us?"

 As  long  as you all will have me, looks like", Amanda answered.
"I don't have anywhere else to go right now."

 "Well, you don't have to worry about anyone here. Everyone  here
thinks you're just way super."

 "So  why are you and your mom living here, Ashley?", asked Aman-
da.

 "My Mom and Dad fight all the time", responded Ashley, scowling.
"One  day,  my  Dad  punched  my Mom in the face, and her lip all
swole up like a balloon. I was in the room, listening.  They were
shouting  at  each  other,  and  Dad  kept hitting her, again and
again.  Mom shouted for him for stop, but he wouldn't.  The  next
day, we moved in here."

 Ashley  took the last drag off the cigarette and crushed it out.
"I'm glad you're a kid, Amanda", she  said.   "Grown-ups  are  so
full of shit."

 **************************************************

 Ginnie opened the door to the basement apartment and found Aman-
da leaning over in the shower, naked to the  waist,  crying,  and
pressing  her  huge mams together with her hands.  It was obvious
she was trying to reach her engorged,  D-cell-battery-sized  nip-
ples, but was unable to reach over the vast expanse of her breast
mass to do so.

 Amanda looked miserable.  "O-o-o-w-w-www!", she moaned,  pushing
hard against her giant tits.  "O-o-o-h GOD, that hurts!"

 Dropping her package on the bed, Ginnie rushed to Amanda's side.
"What's wrong, Amanda? What hurts?", she inquired.

 "My tits!", responded Amanda. "My  breasts!   They  ache.   They
feel like they're going to pop!"

 Ginnie  laid  her palm on the side of Amanda's right breast.  It
was so huge that Ginnie was unable to feel any curvature  whatso-
ever.  Her  palm lay flat against the surface of Amanda's titanic
mammary, which felt hot, flushed,  and  trembled  like  an  over-
inflated  water-balloon.   "Why,  Amanda!", laughed Ginny.  "If I
didn't know any better, I'd say you needed to be milked.  I  grew
up on a farm in Iowa, and you're carrying on just like a cow that
Daddy forgot."

 "Please!", Amanda pleaded.  "Please, Ginny!  Please try!"

 Ginnie had Amanda lean over her bed, but Amanda's boobs  slapped
against  the floor, and Ginnie couldn't get her hands underneath.
So, Amanda crawled up on the table and carefully hoisted her huge
breasts  over  the  side, where they dangled, the swollen nipples
only inches from the floor.  Running  upstairs  to  the  kitchen,
Ginnie  returned with a plastic basin, which she carefully placed
under Amanda's swollen dugs. Then, sitting on a small stool, Gin-
nie  took  each  nipple into her practiced hands and squeezed.  A
jet of creamy milk shot from each breast into the plastic  basin.

 "That  was  it,  Elsie Moo-cow!", laughed Ginnie.  "You were en-
gorged.  You haven't had a baby recently, have you?"

 Amanda shook her head, which caused her mighty  tits  to  wobble
vigorously, slipping out of Ginnie's grasp.

 "No?   So  I  thought.   You're  just like my grandmother, then.
Started milking up at thirteen, without a baby in sight, and  she
didn't  dry up until she was sixty-two.  Nursed practically every
baby in the county.  Kept Grandpa pretty happy  too,  or  so  I'm
told."

 The  milk  continued to flow from Amanda's aching boobs into the
plastic container until quite a sizeable amount had collected  in
the  bottom  of  the  basin.   Amanda  sighed  with relief as her
breasts emptied and the basin filled with the white creamy fluid.
Ginnie stuck a finger in it and put it to her mouth.

 "Mmmm!", she remarked.  "Good!  Kind of sweet, and a lot thicker
than Grandma's.  You've got good milk, Amanda.  I'm going to dump
this out. I'll be right back!"

 Ginnie  dipped out of sight carrying the milk off in the plastic
basin.  Then, she was struck with an idea.  Why waste  four  gal-
lons of perfectly good milk just because it came from a woman in-
stead of a cow?

 The next morning, there were four gallon jugs filled with  Aman-
da's  milk  in the refrigerator.  The first one up was the cinam-
mon-skinned Tarah, who had to go in to work at five-thirty.   She
poured  it on her corn flakes, and had some in her coffee.  Damn,
she thought.  This is good!  She poured herself a glass and drank
it  straight, wiping the white moustache off her upper lip as she
walked out the door.

 Ashley drank four glasses, and put some on her Trix.  Candy, her
mother,  put  it in her cofee, then drank a glass herself.  Karen
heated some up and mixed it with Ovaltine.    Chrissy had the day
off  from  work,  so she drank five or six glasses throughout the
day.  Courtney, who worked in a night club and didn't get up  be-
fore  two o' clock, also heated some up, but she put some Kahluha
in it.  Susan drank two glasses, and put some on her  Grape-Nuts.

 Of  course,  Ginny  drank  it  copiously, all day, and winked at
Amanda every time she passed.  By nightfall, there was only about
half  of  the last gallon left, but Ginnie replenished the supply
with the evening's milking.

 And so it went.  Without any fanfare, and unbeknownst to  anyone
except  Ginnie, Amanda became the primary source of dairy product
at 1401 Ocean Drive.  Ginnie milked her every night,  and  poured
the  milk  into  the  gallon jugs in the refrigerator, where they
would empty quickly, only to be refilled the next  evening.  This
went on for a couple of weeks, until, gratefully, Amanda dried up
again.

 No one talked about it, but, during those days,  everyone  found
themselves  drinking  more  milk.  There was always plenty in the
'fridge, but when anyone asked around, no one could remember  the
last time they had bought any.  It was always assumed that one of
the others had bought it, and, true to  the  promiscuous  use  of
house  goods  by  all  residents, no one questioned where it came
from. Since there was always plenty, no one questioned  where  it
went. Everyone was drinking it freely.

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