“Fuck!”
It was another ninety degree turn right – and another run into the blackness. But this time she didn't stop to ponder whether or not she was being followed. Or whether anyone was calling to her to go back and get what she deserved. This time she simply ran into the blackness. Gathering her hooters, carrying them like they were her babies, and running into the blackness. The silktex was tightening again – both around her and inside her again. That was because the smile was fading and she was becoming a little more distressed – a little more less positive. Not less positive because she thought that she might not get away after all – she was convinced that she had indeed escaped. But distressed because she was becoming exhausted. There seemed no time line of how long she had been running or how long each of those sections of black corridor were. So although she was absolutely positive that she had got away and that it was all going to be ok after all there was her increasing exhaustion. But she could live with it as she lumbered up towards the third solitary bulb. There had to be a door, or some other way out of the house at that end. There just had to be. And it was that that drove her on. All the time running and lumbering into the darkness – this time though her eyes peeled fixed on what she assumed was 'ahead' for the tiniest clue, or the tiniest hint of another light. And there it was. Tiny at first – just the smallest flickering at first but getting bigger and bigger the closer she got.
“Shit!”
Dorothea was practically breathless as she got to the third light. Yet another sharp, ninety degree turn right. She was stooped over a bit by this time. The weight of her breasts spilling over her arms and the effort required to keep all of that flesh inside beginning to tell. That, and the running and running. But she had come so far she could not give up at this point so she began running into the fourth straight of darkness. Even in her exhaustion she had worked out that three turns to the right would and should bring her back to the same place. But she had thought “no” that couldn't be it. Maybe she had been running up hill and the corridors went up and over each other or something. At the end of this fourth one, there would be her exit. Maybe she would find herself in the main part of the house and from there she could make her way out into the lane. Then it would be all ok again. The smile came back to her face and it was wide and it almost beamed in the darkness as she made her way to that light again. And it was there that fourth solitary light bulb. That kind of convinced her that she had not run right back to the point she had started from because if she had, it would not be a light waiting for her at that end, but Wendy and Hooter Tutor. She stumbled and plodded on, half running, half cradling her over spilling hooters. But by the time she got to the end of that run she was almost delirious and she was running blindly. When she did look up, her field of vision was simply filled with a foot. Just a single foot held at her face level. Whether she ran and stumbled into it, or whether it met her run with a force of its own one could not tell. Dorothea could not tell that was for certain. One second, one split second there was that solitary light bulb of hope – the next blackness. Nothing. No shard of light. No door to the outside world. Just one of the twins' feet. Hovered, and parallel to the floor. Then, blackness as she was knocked back off her feet and into unconsciousness.
Chapter Three
If only it had been as 'simple' as that. If only it had been as simple as taking a few of the old clothes – sexy clothes yes, but just clothes all the same – yes they had been sucked in from her old life and that had been a shock. But she had gotten over that – she had gotten over it and her pulse was starting to come down and her heartbeat to slow – and that dreadful tingling of the spine was fading away. But then she had had it made clear to her by Chest.
“You beg, and beg good for those alterations to be done and you make the fuck sure that she believes that you are begging – make sure that she thinks it is a life or death situation and that you you fucking tit whore are begging for your life. If I think she doesn't believe it – if I think she doesn't believe a word of it you will wish that you had died in that fucking School. I hope I make myself clear.”
And that had been the difference from simple to very complex and very complicated. Now she had had to think about it all – now she had had to put some effort into it all and now she had had to make sure that she better get her words and her emotions in check. Now she had better be sure that she didn't fuck up. She hadn't just had to convince Lucy – she had also had to convince Chest and then she had to convince the silktex. The silktex after all had been ramped up. It had become smarter and it had learned to read her in more minute detail and more accurately. The silktex it seemed had passed 'its' final exams and would now be utilised in a much much more exact way. On top of everything Jugs had to put together, in her diminishing mind a convincing begging. One that everyone, even herself had to believe in. In short, she had to put together a real begging and pleading session.
“Please, please Lucy, please I am begging you – begging you from the bottom of my heart – begging you from the bottom of my soul to alter my clothes. You know, the ones from my old life. The ones you took out of my house with Wendy – the ones that signified what I was in those old days – the clothes that showed what I was – what a disgusting whore of a slut I was. Please take them and alter then to fit, and be appropriate for what I have become – what I am now. A tit whore. Nothing but a piece of udder flesh on legs, nothing but a mammary-tramp-whore – nothing but the lowest of the low. Please Lucy please please please do this for me – not a favour, as such – but something I dearly dearly need, and something that deserves to be done so that I can be what I am and no more – and no less. Please, please Lucy please I am begging you. I have never 'begged' for anything in my life but I am begging you now. Please please do this Lucy please.”
Lucy held her hand up indicating that Jugsalina should 'stop already' – and she did. Dorothea let the begging fade and hang and then die.
“My my you really need for me to do this don't you sweetie. I can see that now. I can see what you need. And since you beg quite so splendidly and with some real, real feeling there, how can I refuse, hmm? But tell me, is there anything you want to tell me – to share with me? It seems like you are in some kind of trouble. It seems that there is some kind of trouble that you need to get out of – is there anything you want to talk to me about? Is there anything that I can maybe help you with – to get you out of whatever trouble it is that you are in?”
Jugsalina hadn't bargained on this. Fuck! Her begging and pleading had been so good and so convincing – now this woman, the woman she used to make suck on her piss soaked panties was offering to help her out of any 'trouble' she might be in. Oh Fuck! Maybe this was the opportunity to escape – maybe just maybe if she could give Lucy some kind of sign – maybe a wink or a nod – she would get the message and she could get help. She might not have to let her positive smile or feeling slip at all and she might get out of this after all. It was too good of an opportunity to miss after all? Surely, this would be her one and only chance. She was out in the normal world all on her own and all she had to do was tip the wink, or nod the nod and that would be the end of the nightmare. She had to think like this but all in the space of a split second, then she had to push the thought right back into the grey matter that was drowning out her mind.
“Yes, go on tit-whore – take her up on that offer of help. Take her up on it, and I will explode your hooters from the inside. Take them clean off so that all is left are two big bloody holes in your chest – then you REALLY will be NOTHING. Would you like that, hmm – to see those splendid jugs of yours lying twitching on the floor at your feet, all helpless and with nothing to support them, nothing to keep them alive and nothing to transport them? Hmm would you like that you fucking Cunt?”
That slightest thought – that slightest hope, dashed in an instant. Less than an instant. It was as though Chest had been reading her mind – had read her mind. And she had read it accurately and completely. Those had b
een the thoughts that had gone through and then pushed to the back. All she could do was whimper.
“N-no, no Lucy – I am very very happy with my new life. This is the real me – this is what I should have always been and what I always was. I was never meant to be one of those teasing tormenting sluts that used their bodies to get what they wanted. I was that 'lie' for way too long and now I can be who I am – what I am. I am not in this position against my will, I want this. This is what I am and who I am. There is no help that you could give me or that I would want. I am ecstatically happy with what I am now and who I am. Honest to god – all I need is for you to help turn me more and more into what I am by altering those clothes for me – please please Lucy please?”
Lucy looked again and did that sympathetic tilt of the head. Inside Dorothea's mind she was screaming for Lucy to just agree – to just agree to the alterations and be done with it. Lucy didn't say anything at first she simply looked – as though she was studying the ex-bully. Her eyes piercing Jugsalina. She couldn't know that Jugs was looking back, from udder level – that she couldn't in fact see through her eyes – that her eye sight had been taken away to be replaced with sight along the drooping valley of her hooters.
“Well, if you're sure. If you're sure you don't need any help and that you're ok, I will do the clothes for you – and help you be what you want to be. What you have always been.”
Lucy smiled and her smile matched that of Jugs.
“But just one promise – that you come give me a personal fashion parade when I'm done – that you come give me a catwalk show all of my own. How does that sound, is that a deal?”
Inside, Jugs breathed a sigh of relief. She had done a far too good a job of convincing Lucy that the pleading and the begging was for real. Mainly because it WAS for real.
“Make the promise you big uddered piece of shit – do you hear me. You tell her that you'd be more than delighted to give her a personal fashion parade. You do it now you tit-whore... now!”
Chest then intervening again and Jugs feeling her pulse rising again – it was all coming in on top of her again – coming in and then enveloping her making it all too much for her to bare.
“Oh yes Lucy yes thank you so very much. Thank you so much and I would be delighted to give you that personal and very private fashion show – strut myself for you and let you see what I am truly made of and what I am meant to be for the rest of my life.”
Jugs becoming more and more explicit every time she opened her mouth as though she were revealing layer after layer of herself – but Lucy too wrapped up in her own thoughts to click on to that. Lucy taking in all of the information and trying to compute it inside her mind but not making a really good job of it. She was sure there was something wrong with the woman who used to bully her at school but she couldn't work out why in this place all on their own she would not tell her what it was. Or at least tell her something or give her some indication. She did fleetingly think that maybe she couldn't because she was being listened in on. Like she was bugged in some way. But she dismissed that thought as something that was too ridiculous and far-fetched to even consider. Then there was that smile again – that fucking smile was kind of freaking her out. Already there had been the begging and the pleading and that had been too real – it had been too real that she had felt that something was going over the top of her head – way over the top of her head and beyond. It was something to do with Wendy, she knew that. But she was just a tiny little woman living in a huge, huge house with her sisters, the even more tiny twins. Yes they were odd, but could they do 'this' to another woman. Or was it simply a case that Dorothea, the once much feared and revered Dorothea had picked on the wrong ones this time? It had gone through Lucy's mind that perhaps Dorothea had tried it on with Wendy, or the twins, in some way or another. She knew only too well how Dorothea used to pick on girls, especially smaller girls than herself – maybe just maybe she had done the same with Wendy and the twins and now she was living to regret it. Maybe Wendy, or the twins, or all of them had something on her – maybe they were controlling her in some way through some kind of bizarre blackmail. Nah, that was a stupid thought as well. There was not even the hint of the thought of the reality of the situation. Oh she was closer than she could imagine when she thought that maybe Wendy had something on Dorothea, but not even she, in all her moments of stupid thoughts would she think that she had come into Wendy's grasp, little Wendy's grasp by virtue of the most intense nipple and clitoris based orgasm that any human female could ever imagine, or experience. That was one thought that escaped her – or didn't even come close to her.
She considered Dorothea for a moment or two – the look, the oversized look of her – the top heaviness of her – that top heaviness of her that gravity was getting the better of – surely but surely that 'look' cannot have been Dorothea's wish. If only Lucy had known, if only she had had the slightest inclination that Dorothea was not in fact Dorothea any longer. If only she had had the slightest inclination that she was in fact Jugs, or Jugsalina and that it was her most potent weapons, her tits that had been her downfall. If Lucy the Tailor had had even the slightest inclination that this was the case then maybe, just maybe she would have tried to help Dorothea regardless – and regardless of the consequences. Or maybe, just quite simply she will have gotten the fuck out of there herself. She had always had an unsettled feeling about Wendy. She could never put her finger on it, or explain it – it was just simply something that was always there – nagging at the back of her mind and never letting up. She didn't come across Wendy that often, only when she wanted the 'special jobs' done – usually special jobs requiring modification of a huge bust, or other. But she hadn't thought much about it. She did the jobs and let it go at that – but there was always that feeling in the back of her mind – just a feeling that she could never explain or shake off. It made her shudder a bit – right down the core of her spine it made her shudder. But she shook that off – laughed it off even and then she got on with life – just like she had always done. But this was different – this was odd. Maybe it was just because here was Dorothea – a face from her past and not a pleasant past. And the changes in Dorothea, physical and mental ones. It was all just odd and somehow unsettling and disturbing. She flicked the lights off in the main shop, and in the back room and led a cumbersome Dorothea down into the bowels of her building. There she would take measurements, make cuts, stitches and then she would fine tune. When she had all she needed she would send Dorothea back to where she had come from so she could work her own brand of magic on the clothes. For someone who was ignorant of what Dorothea was now, or who or what Wendy and the Twins were, Lucy had a strange insight into what was required of her. It was like a naïve insight – she knew what the strange woman wanted and what Dorothea begged her to do – but she didn't know why and wouldn't be able to explain if she was ever asked.
“I thought you lil girls deserved a bit of a treat – you wanna play with Jugs a bit hmm? Put her through her paces? To be quite frank I am completely and utterly sick of its attitude – completely fed up to the back teeth. We have those smiles and we have all of that prissy bullshit – but see, I know what is behind all of that. I know exactly what is behind it and am not putting up with it. You see, I don't think this pair of hooters on legs quite gets it yet – I don't think she quite 'gets' the position – her position, 'it's' position and to be honest with you, it's getting me down. I think this 'thing', 'it' still harbours secret inclinations to get back to her old world and her old life and I think that she really thinks that we don't know about it. She 'it' thinks that she can harbour these thoughts and we won’t know about it. She 'it' thinks that because she has the silktex fooled that she has us fooled as well.”
Wendy was rambling really – as though she was just talking for talking's sake. And she was talking bullshit. Utter bullshit. She knew the silktex couldn't be 'fooled'. Not by anything living anyway. But then she wasn't wrong about the thoughts that Jugs had been
harbouring – she had hit the nail squarely on the head there. But what hit home to Jugs the most was the reduction in her status to 'it'. The funny thing was she felt like an 'it' since it had been pointed out to her that she was no more than a transport system for her hooters, all that time ago. That did kind of slip it home exactly what she, as a person had become – or what she had been reduced to. That she was now being referred to as an 'it' simply emphasised that fact. Not simply emphasised it but double underlined it as well. For the first time in what seemed like a lifetime, Wendy was talking from 'outside' of Jugsalina. She was talking, not as Chest, but as Wendy and she was talking to her twins, as her sisters. It was kind of like 'normal'. Like it was in the olden days. It could have been a reason, the tiniest reason to have a spark of hope there somewhere. The way it used to be – before Hooter School, just the four of them, herself, Wendy and the twins – in that big house – just the four of them. That is what such a melting of the mind did – gave out little snippets of hope where there was no hope. And basically there was no hope, none at all. But back the way it used to be was like a comfort to her – like a step backwards. In her mind it was like she was being taken back to that time, where she had just had her nipples licked to that hyper-orgasm – and that thought did things do her mind – if she was being brought back there then if she reached back just that little bit further, then she could just about drag herself back to her old life. At least that was the semi-conclusion she was coming to in her mind. Back to the house, next door to her own – then, just bide her time again – get her bearings in that house. That is what she needed to do was bide her time and get her bearings. She had had too much to contend with these last few weeks, months, however long that timespan was. Everything that had happened to her body and to her mind. It had thrown her off. Yes, that was what it was, it had thrown her off. Getting out of this shit had been pushed right to the back of her mind in favour of trying to cope and absorb what was happening to her. But now – now it was just the four of them again and back in that house – the house next door to her own house. Ok next door was a bit of a stretch of the imagination since this was 'millionaires row' and all of the huge detached houses were in extensive grounds all of their own. Yes, her own house was 'next door' but that was hundreds and hundreds of meters away. But all the same. To be able to think, to be able to say to oneself that home was just 'next door' was a huge, huge 'boost' to her. Truth be known it was simply too much of a boost.
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