Dr Hooters - Pt. XLVI 
by the Road Dog
SURPRISES AND ARRIVALS 


 The  big day finally arrived.  To Mrs. Mallory's credit, she had
all her girls scrubbed, packed, brushed, pinned, and ready to  go
when the company minibus turned up at the door.  Katie had phoned
to say she would be meeting them at he  airport,  and  there  was
quite  a  sizeable  crowd of village youth waiting outside to see
them off.

 Hugging each one in turn, Mr and Mrs  Mallory  fought  back  the
tears.

 "Don't  worry, Mum", Penny consoled her.  "Its only for a month,
and Katie'll take good care of us!"

 Sukie, her huge creamy-white breasts poking up through the neck-
line of a blue shift, in white knee-length stockings, looked like
a pedophile's wet-dream.  At least she'll leave the country look-
ing respectable, her mother thought.  Heaven knows what she'll be
wearing in Florida.  She didn't want to admit it, but Sukie had a
knack  for  looking  slatternly  no  matter what she was wearing.
"Here's the bus!  Here's the bus!", shouted Tricia from the  win-
dow,  her  oversized  breasts  surging and heaving underneath her
white blouse, despite Joan  Shaw's  custom-fitted  undergarments.
Each  girl grabbed a bag, and Mr and Mrs Mallory opened the door.
Within seconds, they were innundated with volunteers for the rest
of the baggage, as the local lads fought for the honour of carry-
ing the sisters' bags and duffles.  When all the  gear  was  set-
tled, good-byes were made all around.

 "Liam, look after yourself, yeah?"

 "That's a good Danny!  We'll miss you!"

 "Colin!   Now  don't  let  that  awful Belinda run your life any
more.  You deserve better than that little slag!"

 "See ya later, Brian.  Drop you a postcard  from  Disney  World,
OK?"

 "Thanks  for  the  hand,  Jerry.  Watch what you get up to while
we're away, right?"

 "Off to Newquay for the summer, are you then, Garry?"

 Tricia found Martin off to the side, away from the  other  boys,
with  his  hands in his pockets.  She ran up to him, and, looking
around to see if anyone was watching, gave him a  quick  kiss  on
the lips.

 "You be good, Martin, okay?"

 "Oi'll  try,  Trish.  It'll be right boring around here with you
and your sisters gone, though."

 "We'll be back."

 "Yeah.  Right."

 Our big little girls, thought Mrs. Mallory as the minibus  drove
off in the direction of London and Heathrow.  They certainly were
popular with the kids in the village.  Big breasts alone couldn't
account  for  that, not by themselves.  No, there had to be some-
thing more.  She turned to her husband.

 "You know, love.  I can't help but feel we've done a pretty good
job with those girls."

 Mr  Mallory put his arm around his wife's shoulder.  "We'll have
a month to ourselves. Want to try for a repeat performance?"

 The calm and tranquility of the  English  countryside  gave  way
gradually  to the hustle and noise of the suburbs, as the minibus
pulled in to Heathrow Airport,  and  deposited  the  sisters  and
their baggage at the British Airways terminal.  True to her word,
Katie was waiting for them, bright, blonde, and busty in a  cream
colored  outfit  designed and executed by Ms. Joan Shaw, Ketters-
ley.

 The Tropicalia agents met them as well.  Poor  bloody  bastards.
They  **had**  hoped for some fresh-faced English girls for their
upcoming promotion on the virtues of  orange  juice.  Fresh-faced
they  got, but the rest of the package made one think rather more
about dairy goods.  Still, with good humour, they  greeted  Sukie
and  her  sisters, took the requisite photos, and shook hands all
around.

 Then they handed Sukie the check for the  balance  of  her  win-
nings,  four  thousand five hundred sixty-two dollars US, and had
Katie fill out the insurance papers for the  Cadillac  they  were
putting at her disposal when they arrived in Orlando.

 "You'll  be  staying at the Corona Real resort in Century Beach.
Its five-star all the way, you'll find, Miss", said the ringlead-
er,  Farthingay  or Fasserwill or some such. "Its about two hours
from Orlando and Disney World, and right on the beach!   You  and
your sisters will love it, I'm sure."

 He handed Katie a card.  "If you have any problems or questions,
call this number in Florida.  Its company headquarters.  Congrat-
ulations and have a wonderful time!"

 "Pinch  me", said Sukie.  "I still can't believe this is happen-
ing!"  The company agents took leave and left them to await their
flight.   Apart from the usual commotion the sisters Mallory cre-
ated among members of the masculine persuasion  every  time  they
went  out  together,  no one could have thought the day more per-
fect, until the  announcement  came  over  the  airport  speaker.
'Call for Miss Kate Mallory!  Call for Miss Kate Mallory!  Please
pick up on the nearest line.'

 Katie ran to the counter and grabbed a  phone.   Minutes  later,
she returned, smiling from ear to ear.

 "That was my boss, girls.  Miss Walters, remember?"

 Sukie jumped with excitement.  "Jennie!", she shouted enthusias-
tically.  Sukie had fond memories of the  dark-haired  woman  who
had changed all their lives so dramatically.

 "Yes,  Jennie",  continued  Katie.   "She  phoned to let us know
she'll be joining us in Florida next week.  She has  some  things
to  wrap up at the Lab, then, well, it'll be just like old times,
won't it?

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

 Jeremy opened the refrigerator and stared inside.  Just like his
dad,  he  though.   A  six  pake  of beer and a pepperoni.  Shit!
Where was he going to get milk  at  one-thirty  in  the  morning?
Scratching  himself,  he  returned to the dining room table where
his dry bowl of Shredded Wheat awaited him.

 Looking through the window, he saw a light on next door. Steve's
fiancee  lived over there.  Now, as almost almost-family, he felt
a tenuous right to run over and ask for a few staples.  He made a
few  quick mental notes.  Milk, for certain.  Maybe a little sug-
ar, and a little butter.

 Maybe his dreams would come true, and Amanda would come  to  the
door  Just  the  thought  of  those  massive  beanbag-chair-sized
breasts greeting him at the door made his crotch tingle.  It  was
worth  the  risk!   Pulling  on his bathrobe he crossed the short
patch of grass separating his house from the girls'  cottage  and
knocked on the side door.

 He  heard  some  bumping  and  thumping,  then the freckle-faced
brunette opened the door.  "Oh, hello, Jeremy", she said.   "What
do you want?  Its one-thirty, and I was just going to bed."

 I'm  sorry,  Ginnie", Jeremy apologized, remembering her name in
the nick of time.  "I didn't want to drive all the way to Albert-
son's  this  time of night, and I was wondering if you could loan
me a couple of things until tomorrow?"

 "What sort of things, Jeremy?", asked Ginny.  She was wearing  a
t-shirt  cut off at the midriff, revealing an only slightly pudgy
and very freckly tummy. The top of the t-shirt barely  covered  a
substantial  amount of jiggly breast-flesh obviously unencumbered
by any underwear.  Jeremy felt his cock twitch  despite  himself.
Funny,  thought Jeremy, I don't remember Ginnie being this big on
top.  She looks pretty good.

 "Uh, kitchen things, Gin", he replied.   "Milk,  butter,  sugar,
you  know."   "Baking  a cake at this hour, are we?", she teased.
"You're going to have to invite me over when its finished."

 Suddenly, that sounded like a splendid idea to Jeremy,  although
it had never occured to him before.

 Ginnie  returned  with  the  items he had mentioned. A gallon of
milk, a stick of margarine, a plastic bag full of sugar.  "Here",
she said, putting the items in his hands.  "Have a good cake! You
can bring it back whenever.  We aren't going to starve!"

 Carrying the groceries back over to his own house, Jeremy  found
he couldn't stop thinking about what was jiggling away under Gin-
ny's cut-away t-shirt.   Crushing  another  biscuit  of  Shredded
Wheat  into his bowl, he untapped the milk and poured it on.  Why
hadn't he noticed Ginny before, he wondered.

 And why did this milk taste so damned good?

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

 It was only lack of communications that kept outright chaos from
breaking  out  at 1401 Ocean Drive on the last week of June.  All
the girls had grown, some one cup size, some, almost two.  No one
had been left untouched, except, oddly, little Ashley.

 Bras  and  blouses treasured for years were discarded callously,
and a lot of comparison and cross-checking went  on,  but,  since
all  of  the  residents of the cottage were never together at one
time, no one was able to get a picture  what  had  occured  as  a
house-wide phenomenon.

 Still,  breast  growth being a much more positive occurence than
breast shrinkage, each of the girls accepted the  outbreak  as  a
private  stroke of well-deserved good fortune.  The girls who had
formerly been nearly flat-chested, like Karen,  Susan,  Courtney,
and Chrissy, enjoyed themselves much like poor relatives recently
come into an inheritance. They all spent  much  more  money  than
they  should have on chest-revealing clothing; halter tops, 'boob
tubes', skimpy swim suits, tight T-shirts and the like.

 Candy, Tarah, and Ginnie, who had been more  generously  endowed
to  begin  with,  now  found themselves, to their delight, on the
verge of being truly stacked. Still, no one suspected Amanda, who
continued  giving  between four and five gallons of milk nightly,
or Ginnie, who concientiously bottled it and  stored  it  in  the
common refrigerator.

 Watching  her  new  housemates  grow out of their shirts, Amanda
felt a chill run down her spine.  It could be a co-incidence, she
thought.  Most of these women were quite young, she thought, just
one or two years out of high school.  Then too, nothing had  hap-
pened to Candy's daughter, Ashley.

 Amanda  remembered  her own transformation.  It had been gradual
enough. First, she grew several inches, almost overnight.   Still
flat-chested, she and her sister Blair had had to buy a whole new
wardrobe.  It was only after that that  their  breasts  began  to
sprout,  growing  quickly from small to medium to decent to their
present eminence.

 Still, Amanda took the precaution of asking  Ginny  if  she  was
pouring  out  the  milk  every  night after each milking session.
'Right down the drain, Amanda', Ginny had answered.  Amanda did a
quick  mental scan of Ginny. My God, she's lying, thought Amanda.
All these girls have been drinking my milk for the past week.

 Then Ashley shot up almost a foot  in  three  days,  going  from
four-four to five-three between Friday and Monday.
































