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Subject: story: "GROWN-UP GIRLS" Part IV, Chapter 13: Clarrie At Your Service
Date: Mon, 08 Jan 2007 21:22:25 -0800
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===================

http://www.incesttabooo.com/gug13.html

GROWN-UP GIRLS

Part IV, Chapter 13: Clarrie At Your Service

We were all in the sitting room, glowing with the  heat  of
the  day.   The  girls  were  playing  cards  on  the  rug.
Occasionally, voices were raised, and even  the  odd  fist.
We watched them fondly.   They  were  certainly  taking  no
notice of the grown-ups talking.

"You know how you told  us  about  the  shy  guy  with  the
stammer, Gran?"  Tanya said.

"Oh, Mark?  Mark Bryant, was it?  Or  Mark  Collins?   It's
been a long time.  Yes.  Him and Wendy  Sherman!   I  don't
want to talk about what I did to them later.  It would  get
me into trouble.  But you remember how I went to stay  with
my brother and his wife.   Every  time  I  see  these  kids
eating the way they do, it reminds me of the  time  when  I
was in Minneapolis with Tim and Martha."

"I couldn't eat a thing when I  arrived,  just  picking  at
rice, salads and stuff.  They were both trying to get me to
eat more, but nope!  But, then, I don't know what happened,
but Tim was showing me an old chest of clothes and stuff in
the attic.  And there was one of  my  old  bras  in  there.
Must've been from when I was no more than twelve?  Anyways,
I tried it on.  Oooh, it  was  a  perfect  fit  around  the
chest, but I had nothing to put in the cups at all.   Well,
I couldn't believe how it had ever been mine;  my  memories
had completely gone ..."

"And your mammaries, too", said Tanya, softly.

"...  yep, those too.  But that was when Tim first told  me
about Pa and what he and the other men  did  to  that  Luke
O'Hara, and how we had to get out of the farm.  And it  was
like a load was lifted off my back, all of a sudden.   Bits
of memory started to come back.  Slowly, but I  started  to
remember things again, but this time, it was all right, you
know?  'Cos Luke O'Hara wasn't coming back.  Ever!"

"And I started eating.  Oh, these kids coulda' learned from
me!  I ate nearly a whole cake one night.  Brand new  cake,
and by the time little Trudy had done with  it,  there  was
one slice left.  I should have finished it  off  and  acted
innocent, but Martha and Tim were so pleased I  was  eating
again, they started feeding me up like a  prize  pig.   And
every bit of it went straight up here.  Nothing down  here,
or down here, all up here!"

"I shot right back up to fifty-six inches  in  two  months!
And even after that, though I slowed down, I still  carried
on growing and eating and eating and growing, even after  I
went off looking for a man.  I went off looking for a  man,
and I found Roger!"

"And of course, he said I reminded him of his Mummy!   Only
his Mom was even more so than me, 'cos right then -  I  was
still putting on weight up top - I guess I was no more than
fifty-nine or sixty inches when we got married, but by  the
time we landed at Southampton and went just down  the  road
to Bournemouth to meet his folks, I was  up  to  more  than
sixty four inches.  I know that, because I had to buy a new
dress  for  the  occasion,  and  I  remember  telling   the
dressmaker I'd been as big as this before I'd even  reached
my twelfth birthday!  I tried  to  tell  her  all  American
girls were as big  as  me,  and  I  still  think  she  half
believed me!"

A gong sounded somewhere out in the hall.

"Dinner is served, girls, kids!"  She hardly needed to tell
the kids, they were almost tearing the  door  down  to  get
into  the  dining  room.   "You  watch  their  faces",  she
whispered to us, "when they  get  to  see  Clarrie  in  her
uniform!  Now, you sure you're all ready for this?"

**********

I thought I was, but the sight of Clarrie  in  her  uniform
made me gasp.  My  jaw  hit  the  table.   The  girls  were
staring at her in astonishment.  They couldn't believe her.

"Sir Roger makes her wear this gear?"  Clarrie had  brought
out the bread rolls and undulated back into the kitchen.

"He insisted on it, right from when Clarrie  first  started
here.  What do you think of her?"

"She's incredible!  She looks twice as  big.   Up  top,  at
least, where it matters.  Her waist isn't!   She  looks  as
though she's going to snap in half!"

"That's what Roger likes.  He prefers to be  surrounded  by
girls that remind him of his Mother.  Clarrie's not as  big
as his Mom was, but trussed up like  that,  she's  not  far
off!"

The maid came back in with a stack of plates, placing  them
in front of each of us.  The girls never  took  their  eyes
off her.  As well they might.  Clarrie was a big  girl,  as
you will  have  gathered  by  now.   Her  broad  hips  were
squeezed into the most microscopic  skirt  I'd  ever  seen.
Her legs looked endless in black stockings.  Her legs  were
certainly longer than the stockings, because you could  see
the tops of them, and even the  suspender  belt  that  held
them up.

"Thank  you,  Clarrie",  said  Grandma  Trudy.   "You  look
stunning as usual."

"Thank  you,  ma'am!"   blushed  Clarrie,  with  a   little
curtsey, and went back into the  kitchen  again,  her  high
heels  clicking  on   the   parquet,   her   hips   swaying
extravagantly.  Grandma Trudy winked at us and  we  started
giggling.  Once we started, we couldn't stop.  Tanya nudged
me and spluttered into her napkin.  Clarrie was coming back
in again, but if she noticed us giggling -  and  she  could
hardly miss it - she didn't show it.  I looked at her  more
closely.  Was her skirt even shorter?

I didn't see how it possibly could be, but now an  inch  or
two of creamy thigh was  visible  above  the  tops  of  her
stockings.  Her blouse swelled out from an improbably small
waist  -  certainly  at  least  six  inches  smaller   than
Clarrie's usual almost thirty inches  -  to  an  incredibly
swollen  bosom,  somehow  compressed   into   a   bursting,
straining white blouse.  A pert little black  bow  tie  was
echoed by the black ribbons which tied her  hair  into  two
swinging  pony  tails  which  danced   around   her   meaty
shoulders.

It was my turn to nudge Tanya, and I pointed  at  Clarrie's
skirt, just as she bent over to serve  Grandma  Trudy.   We
stared into the cloacal darkness beneath the maid's  skirt,
and realised as we exchanged glances, that  Clarrie  wasn't
wearing any panties.  We could  certainly  see  where  they
ought to have been, and they simply weren't there!

Each time Clarrie disappeared into the kitchen, she  seemed
to come back subtly changed, each time in a different  way.
Her skirt became shorter.  Her waist became  even  tighter,
buttons began to come undone, as if by accident, then  more
of them, until twin piled-up mounds of creamy breast became
visible in the gap at the front of her blouse.

"If your necktie is too tight, Clarrie,  you  may  take  it
off!"  said Grandma Trudy, smiling at  us  again.   Clarrie
nodded and bobbed again.

"Yes'm!"  she said quietly.  Next time she came in, the bow
tie was gone, and the top four buttons of her  blouse  were
undone.  On successive visits, more and still  more  breast
was revealed, until the  whole  of  her  platform  bra  was
visible, with her breasts resting on the quarter cups  like
unbaked cottage loaves.  Her nipples seemed  to  stick  out
further each time, until by the end, they were  almost  out
in the open.

"It's all a game", said Grandma Trudy when the maid was out
of the room again.  "Clarrie knows the  rules.   Roger  and
her, they play it all the time, with one or two variations.
When she does it particularly well, and thinks of some  new
and creative idea, she gets a special  reward!   No  reward
this  time,  though.   Poor  Clarrie!   Although,  somehow,
knowing Clarrie, I don't think she'll go short of affection
while Roger's away!"

Tanya and I looked at her in surprise,  but  Grandma  Trudy
wasn't saying anything.

**********

What we didn't know, and couldn't see, was that  Davie  was
in hiding, and was right at the centre of the action.   The
door to the kitchen  passed  through  a  short  passageway.
Davie lurked out there, positioned  so  that  he  could  be
certain of catching a glimpse of young Suzanne  every  time
the dining room door opened.  At  the  same  time,  Clarrie
passed him twice on each of her journeys to and fro.

She made a point of doing the trip as  often  as  possible,
pausing briefly to rub herself against Davie each time.  He
gave her breasts a rub and a squeeze, or slipped a hand  up
between her hot thighs.  No  wonder  the  girl  was  almost
panting by the time she had cleared away the pudding dishes
and served the coffee.

"Thank you, Clarrie, that will be all", said Grandma  Trudy
approvingly, and Clarrie  shot  out  of  the  door,  almost
undressing as she went.  If  we'd  listened  carefully,  we
might have heard two sets of footsteps  thundering  up  the
back stairs to her bedroom, which  was  five  yards  closer
than Davie's.

It had even made  Tanya  and  me  hot,  just  watching  the
oversexed serving girl going in and out.  For all we  knew,
Grandma Trudy could feel the urge, too.   I  preferred  not
even to think about the kids getting  aroused  by  it,  but
remembering what Tanya had been like at  their  age,  there
could have been no doubt about it.

"Time to get ready for bed, soon, kids", I told them.  "Off
you go and have one more  game  of  cards,  we'll  see  you
shortly, okay?"

"All right, Mummy.  Can Clarrie kiss us goodnight tonight?"

"Well, I don't know, Clarrie's been working very hard,  she
might be resting."

"She might have gone to  bed",  said  Grandma  Trudy,  more
accurately, with a wink at me.

"She can't go  to  bed  before  *us*,  she's  a  grown-up",
Victoria pouted.

"She gets up very early in the mornings, honey!  But I will
ask Clarrie, and if she's asleep, I'll come and give you  a
cuddle, if you're extra good."

That seemed to satisfy them.

"She'll be in bed  all  right,  but  maybe  not  her  own!"
Grandma Trudy whispered as soon as the kids had gone.

Tanya looked puzzled.  "You mean she's gone out on a  date?
She's only been gone five minutes and she  won't  have  had
time to get bathed and changed."

"She won't have  gone  anywhere,  no.   And  knowing  young
Clarrie, she won't be too bothered about a bath first.  No,
and I think you won't find  young  Davie  anywhere  at  the
moment, either!"

"Davie?"  I asked her.

Tanya knew what I was thinking.  If Davie was  getting  sex
lessons from Clarrie, how much of his  new-found  knowledge
was he passing on to Victoria and Suzanne?

"Is Davie shagging Clarrie?"  Tanya asked in hushed tones.

"Shagging?   Hey,  I  love  that  word.   No,  if  anyone's
shagging anyone, it's Clarrie who's doing the shagging!   I
caught them at it the other day.  It's no  good  trying  to
stop them,  it  wouldn't  work.   You  can't  stop  Clarrie
needing sex a dozen times a day.  The only danger  is  that
she'll wear young Davie's dick away completely before Roger
gets back!  But if she's keeping him busy, he won't  be  so
keen on chasing after your lot.  Still, it might  be  worth
keeping an eye on him, he's a growing boy!"

**********

At that  precise  moment,  Davie  wasn't  growing,  he  was
shrinking; ten minutes after Clarrie, still in  her  maid's
outfit, mounted him just inside her bedroom door.  They had
never even made it as far as the bed,  although  while  the
boy was still recovering, Clarrie lugged him  to  his  feet
and heaved him on to the well-worn mattress.  Then, finding
herself with a few  minutes  of  enforced  free  time,  she
undressed, leaving her uniform in a dank pile on the floor.

She stood, looking down at Davie,  who  was  still  panting
like an exhausted dog.  She massaged her  breasts,  looking
critically at the marks  left  by  the  bra.   Her  nipples
pointed at Davie like fingers of accusation.   She  reached
down between her legs and stroked herself with her fingers,
up and down, up and down; then wiped the  moisture  on  the
outside of her thighs.  Slowly, as he  looked  up  at  her,
Davie found himself becoming a new man.

Clarrie had that effect on people.   She  never  failed  to
surprise Sir Roger, even at his advanced  years.   The  old
boy could still  give  his  Trudy  a  good  seeing-to  when
necessary, but Clarrie was different.  He had told her  so,
in one of the many long pauses in their love-making.  Davie
was quicker, and more frequent, whereas Sir Roger  made  it
last half the night and only did it  once.   It  takes  all
sorts, thought Clarrie, philosophically.

**********

Grandma Trudy poured the last of the coffee into our cups.

"That's just about all there was to it.  As I  say,  I  met
Roger and we were married, then we arrived in this country,
and I met his folks.  I was scared, of course."

"What were they like?"  Tanya stirred her  cup,  even  this
little movement causing ripples in the soft swells  of  her
upper breasts.  "I mean, we've seen these photos, but  they
don't show much."

"No, they don't", Grandma Trudy agreed, turning  the  pages
of the album.  "It's as if whoever took the pictures didn't
want to show too much of Mrs Pym's figure!  And  there  was
certainly a lot of it to show.  Look at this one."

The photo was taken on a  beach,  and  showed  Sir  Roger's
mother in a bathing suit.  Apart from  the  fact  that  her
bust measurement seemed to be at least twice as big as  her
hips, it was difficult to see much detail.   The  shot  was
blurred.  Infuriatingly blurred!

"I  wish  you  could  see  more,  but  these  are  all  the
photographs we have.  Roger had told me when we  first  met
that his mother was much bigger in the bust than me.  To be
frank, I hardly  believed  him,  but  when  I  saw  her,  I
realised he was right.  Those things were enormous!"

"She was bigger than you, yet  you  had  a  sixty-something
inch bust?"

"Sixty-four, honey, but she made me look as if I was  going
instead of coming.  Looking at you, Tanya, I can see  where
you get your boobs from.  She was as big as you.  Oh,  yes,
she was middle aged by then, but if she was as  busty  when
she was younger, she must have been staggering to look  at.
As you are, darling!  Hey, I just thought of something."

We  sat  forward,  intently.   When  Grandma   Trudy   said
something like this, it  seemed  it  was  always  something
spectacular!

"You know how when I was staying with  Tim  and  Martha  in
Missouri, and we looked through that old chest in the attic
...?  Roger has some boxes in the spare room, and  he  said
they were old things of his mother's.  I have never  looked
through them, but he wouldn't mind, I'm sure.  After  we've
seen Judy Thresher tomorrow, why don't we take  a  look  in
the spare room?  There might be some interesting things  in
there!"

It sounded like the best idea we'd  heard  for  some  time.
All girls love a dressing-up box.  But  a  dressing-up  box
full of clothes which would fit someone with tits the  size
of Tanya would be a rarity indeed.

"Yes, please, Gran!"  breathed Tanya.

"All right!  Now, let's round up these kids  and  get  them
tucked up for the night."

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