Danielle tugged at her shirt and bra, shifting her monumental bust for better comfort. How many times was that? Ten? No matter how she adjusted, whether she yanked a strap up or down her shoulders, or if she tried covering her cleavage, something else became uncomfortable. Not to mention how her parents hounded her to find something appropriate to wear. This was the largest size she owned.
"Could always wear a poncho?" Holly suggested.
"What about pants?" Danielle grimaced and tried gripping the jeans she wore. They were flush against her flesh, like textured paint or a second skin, and made her dread taking them off. Pulling them on was tiresome enough. The waist caught under the swells of her butt and, once she forced it over, sank into them like a knife through butter. If not for Holly's assistance, she might never have succeeded.
"Oh lord, I'm getting so fat," Danielle said.
"No you're not, silly!" Casey giggled and hugged her close. They were heading to P.E., one of the few classes they shared in the week, and were a point of interest for others in the halls. Danielle could guess why as she looked to her friend, who had marched deeper into the Bimbo lifestyle, and thus displayed the maximum amount of flesh. Without violating the dress code, of course. Though no one said anything about her.
Perhaps it was Holly? She was gorgeous that day, her ghostly skin highlighted by the crimson of her lipstick and thick eyelashes, while wearing a red shirt and black yoga pants. A flower came to mind, with a stem blossoming into dual-toned leaves, equipped with a pair of plump, comfortable breasts that Danielle had rested on many times. Unlike her, Casey arched her back to show off the proudly fake set she owned. Shame didn't fit in with a Bimbo's mindset.
"I am," Danielle pinched her breast, wincing both in pain and the sudden eruption of pleasure, which soared straight to her crotch, and the other reason her jeans were at their limits.
"Even so, it's not a bad thing," Holly said and hooked her arm around Danielle's, "It's makes you all the cuddlier." She nuzzled into the futa's shoulder, inhaling the 'perfume' she swore Danielle kept secret from her. There was no secret. Danielle didn't wear perfume beyond her body wash, which had no discernible scent in itself. Her parents didn't believe in using odours to attract people, though makeup was fair game.
"Hey! No fair, don't snuggle up to her when I'm not looking," Casey pouted and copied her friend, turned rival.
"There's plenty to go around," Danielle chuckled. That didn't placate them. She remained crushed between the pair, their shoulders digging into her breasts and straining her shirt further. A slight rip caught her attention, "Guys, uh, my shirts not gonna last if you keep it up."
"Sorry," Holly said and let go, while Casey lingered for a moment, then followed suite.
"Sorry," Casey repeated.
"It's fine. I've gotta go shopping again anyway. Nothing else fits," Danielle said and sighed. Yet another small fortune would be lost, and another if her body didn't hurry up and settle down. The trio arrived in the locker rooms. Others were already there, chatting as they stripped or pulled on their gym uniforms. The school offered a pair of baggy shorts or tracksuit pants, and a tight shirt. When swimming, the only option was a one-piece swimsuit that hugged the female form like liquid.
Danielle sat on a familiar bench, where a faint stain extended before it. She glanced to Holly, who returned an intimate grin and wink. That hadn't been the last time they'd 'met' in the lockers. Holly stayed after dance practice until everyone else had left, then she and Danielle would repeat their first time. It was better every time, or so Holly claimed. The act had more appeal now than it did before, so perhaps Danielle was getting better at it, or something else was influencing her. Was it love?
Maybe. The prospect hadn't been lost on her, not since she and Holly started going on regular dates. Casey's inclusion in the mix had changed things, but she enjoyed it. Both offered different joys in life. Holly would cry at the sappiest romance movie, while Casey gushed about shows and books that Danielle hadn't heard of. And sex had subtle changes between them.
Could she love them both? A silly question. She already did. Dozens of people talked with her, invited her to parties or offered help for various things, but none were like those two. Her life would be worse without them. Who knew what might've happened if Holly hadn't steered her away from certain people? Drugs? Alcohol? She didn't, or want to, know.
"Oh no," Danielle said after pulling out her gym shirt. She'd forgotten to get a new one.
"It's okay," Holly said and wandered to the 'lost and found' basket, "Someone should've left a larger size around. I think Sarah Mason threw hers away last week, and she's gotta be bigger than you."
"Or just go without," Casey said with a suggestive wriggle of her brows. Danielle rolled her eyes. She'd tried running without a shirt on; her breasts bounced free and slapped her face, which led to a peculiar erection.
"Here we are!" Holly announced and pulled out a massive shirt, at least when compared to her sleek shoulders, "Should fit those mountains."
"Mountains? Oh," Danielle chuckled as she glanced to her chest. They were, indeed, the size of mountains. A pair of monumental bowls of pudding splayed across her torso, barely contained in her bra. She adjusted the straps again. It did nothing to stop the cups digging into her pliant flesh, but offered better support at least. She took the shirt. No sweat stains that she could see, and it didn't stink. Better than she could have hope for.
She pulled it on and, though it struggled around her boobs, it managed to meet the waistband of her jeans. Now the real challenge presented itself. First, she had to get her jeans off without tearing them, next she would need a new pair of shorts that fit her. Her parents rarely, if ever, allowed her to wear skirts or shorts, at least not ones that ended above the knee, so she relished the chance. That said, her current pair would be no match for the triple-threat of her hips, butt and penis.
"Here," Holly handed her a pair, "Figured you need them."
"Thanks," Danielle took the pair and stood. Most people were already changed, but some seemed to have trouble figuring their own clothes out, as they lingered around, half-dressed. They might be staring at Danielle, but something else always seemed to occupy them when she checked. It wasn't until she had yanked her jeans off that she caught their gawking faces.
Was she that fat? She didn't exercise, beyond her games with Holly, Casey and the occasional stranger. Her arms were soft, belly too, as were her legs and face. She hadn't even lost her baby fat yet. Or was it that her growth spurt was so abnormal? It didn't take longer than a glimpse to ascertain that she was, without much doubt, the most endowed person there. And the only futa, though most didn't know of that. They thought she was shemale like Casey.
That, itself, was uncommon. She looked to her friend, who was busy making sure her clothes flaunted her body to its peak, and wondered if this was how she felt. Danielle pulled the pair on, grunting when they snagged on her phallus. They fit well enough, better than her jeans by a bit, and were loose enough that it didn't feel as if her member was being suffocated.
Which brought its own problem. Each step let it bounce around, shifting in tandem to her obtuse thighs. This class would be a nightmare. Or worse, she thought as she stepped onto the field with the others. Most, if not all, eyes were on her.
Standing there, amongst a row of 'normal' women her age, she realised how insane her growth spurts were becoming. Where one girl had breasts maybe the size of honeydew melons, large but not meddlesome, Danielle had a pair larger than her own head. And another girl had hips to make a mother proud, yet she was smaller than Danielle. Perhaps two or three others had curves even close to hers, and one was Casey with her implants.
They must exercise. Danielle frowned at the grass, as if it were responsible for the vast difference between herself and the rest. She didn't hate her body. Or not to the extent that Casey did. She just wished it wasn't so huge all over, that she didn't have a dozen or two people gawking at her at that moment. It made her feel tight, constricted, as though their eyes were ropes coiled around her. She needed to work out, that'd fix everything.
