“Hurry UP, Cyn – the plane’s gonna leave
without us!”
Cynthia barely heard Haley’s plea, since
Haley was a good 15 yards ahead of her, scrambling between business travelers
and spring-breakers heading to their respective gates. But Cynthia took comfort: Jeanine was still
20 yards behind her.
“Tell that to Jeanie!” yelled back
Cynthia. “She’s bringing up the rear,
not me.” Even Haley had to laugh at the
irony in that statement, considering Jeanine’s infamous posterior.
They’d need a miracle to make it. But today wasn’t going to be their day.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Earlier
that morning:
“Well, how do I look?”
Haley pranced out of her bathroom as if she
was strutting down a runway; a smirk on her face said she already knew the
answer to her question.
“For the amount of time you took in there,
you’d better look at least that good,” fired back Jeanine. Haley had been behind closed doors for the
better part of an hour.
Haley just stared back at her two best
friends. The truth is, they weren’t much
better. That’s what made finding an
apartment together so challenging – there weren’t many 3 bed/3 bath spaces in
the square-footage deficient areas near campus, but they each had insisted on
having their own bathroom… with extra locks installed.
When Haley walked away, however, Cynthia
and Jeanine did have to exchange a brief look of mutual admiration. When people saw Haley, they saw one thing:
her hair. Gorgeous, lustrous, golden and
curly tresses, cascading down from her head, past her shoulders to her
mid-back. It was bouncy and sun-kissed,
perfectly framing her face, which wasn’t bad either. Every lock was always in perfect place, and
the honey-gold color made Haley radiate like the sun – it was impossible not to
spot her in a crowd from a mile away.
Sure, she spent a lot of time on it, but it was worth it. Even Jeanine and Cynthia had to admit that. Luckily for them, that was her only truly
shining attribute. Haley was average
height – 5’6” – and average framed, with smallish breasts and slight
curvature. But her hair always got her
noticed, and there was never a shortage of guys hanging on her. And she loved it, which is why it took her so
long to groom.
Cynthia whispered to Jeanine while Haley
was in the kitchen, still checking her look in the side of the metal toaster
oven. “Sometimes I dream about taking
scissors to that pile of hair in the middle of the night, just to see if she
could survive without them.” Jeanine
snickered as she sprung up and headed to her own haven of a bathroom. As she walked away, Cynthia patted her own
hair and frowned. She shared one thing
in common with Haley in the hair department: color. Cynthia was a beautiful blonde, vehemently
claiming she had been one since birth despite the lack of photographic evidence
(strangely, none of the girls kept photo albums from their childhood in their
humble yet amply bathroomed abode). But
sadly for her, the texture difference between her and Haley’s hair was not only
noticeable, but laughable. Cynthia had
fairly thin, bone-straight hair that hung down only to her shoulders. Not thinning, mind you, but just a bit lifeless
– she couldn’t do much with it as far as styling. It just kind of sat there, and she always had
to view Haley’s unbelievable bounty with a tinge of jealousy. Thankfully, she could look down and be
appreciative of the one attribute she could hold high over Haley’s
beautifully-haired head. Actually, two
attributes, and she was about to do something that reminded Haley about that
very thing.
“Hey, watch it with those things” snapped
Haley. Cynthia had walked into the
kitchen where Haley still stood with the toaster, reaching above her friend to
a high-up cupboard for a water glass.
The truth was, Cynthia wasn’t thirsty.
“What’s up your butt? I wanted some water.”
“Well you almost suffocated me.”
Cynthia smiled at Haley and crossed her
arms below her chest. “What, with
these?” She looked down at her ample,
now even more propped up and prominently displayed breasts. “I’m sorry, but they just get in the way
sometimes. You have no idea what it’s
like to haul ‘em around all day. All the
back ache, not to mention the constant stares.”
Cynthia had emphasized “no idea” in her
brief, well-rehearsed monologue, even flickering her eyes down to Haley’s perky
yet un-inspired mounds while she said it.
Haley, almost as a subconscious reflex, crossed her arms as well, not to
pronounce but to cover her chest.
Haley only had one response. “I get my own fair share of stares, thank you
very much.” She turned quickly,
intentionally whipping her hair in Cynthia’s face as she began to storm out of
the room.
Cynthia was hurt by the metaphorical small
knife Haley managed to stick in her over-stressed back, but she got over it
quickly and yelled back, “Hey, I don’t flaunt these and you know it. I always cover up.”
Haley stopped and turned back. She stared down at her friends heaving
globes, tightly encased in a one-size-too small pink, long sleeve top. It seemed Cynthia was trying to display them
even more at the moment, arching her back and sticking her breasts higher and
further away from her body.
Haley appraised the whole situation before
responding, eyeing Cynthia up and down.
She was a cute girl, a dead ringer for that adorable young thing in that
show on MTV. Haley was taller than her
by about 2 inches, making Cynthia a smallish 5’4”. She was extremely athletic without an ounce
of fat on her. Well, most of her. It seemed all the meat on her bones gathered
in two places and two places only. Her
amazing, pendulous, quivering breasts. Cynthia
was a 32DD (confirmed by all the sexy Victoria
“Well, it’s not like you’re wearing an extra
large top, are you?”
“Actually, it’s a large – it just stretches
over my chest so much that it looks smaller.”
Haley stole another glance at Cynthia’s
overly-ample chest and grit her teeth.
They were nice alright, and every guy wanted to dip into that sundae
with the cherry-like turgid nipples on top. She had no response, other than to
again twirl out of the room, leaving her full and shiny hair to bounce behind
her. She headed to the bathroom,
apparently not done preening.
“What are you two going on about?” asked
Jeanine as she floated into the kitchen, finally back from her second long trip
to her bathroom. She marched over to the
fridge, opened it, and leaned down to the bottom shelf looking for a soda,
hoping her friend Cynthia was watching.
She snuck a peak back – Cynthia was.
Jeanine could admire Haley’s stunning hair
and Cynthia’s bodacious rack if she wanted, but she really didn’t have to. She had her own thing going which trumped the
enviable traits of both her friends. For
starters, she was taller. 5’8” which
could be further accentuated with a pair of heels. Her face was pleasant but not outstanding,
and her hair was nice enough – a cute, short, sleek brown bob. But no one really focused too much on the
spaces above her neck. It was her curves. Dramatic, almost impossible curves from her
shapely shoulders to her shapely calves – a far cry from the straight waists
and minimalist backsides her friends boasted.
To say it was an hourglass was an understatement. Her chest was nowhere near the measurements
of Cynthia – just a 36C, but high, firm and perky – yet they were offset and
enhanced by an obscenely curved waist and equally obscenely curved hips. And she knew how to wiggle those hips to make
all the guys groan. The girls groaned
too… because they didn’t have the proportions to stack up to Jeanine.
But Jeanine gave Cynthia this perspective
for a reason – it was her ass that made her stand out most from the rest, and
it was big and bold and in Cynthia’s face right now… in all its luscious
glory.
“Hell, Jeanie, the sodas aren’t THAT far
back. You’re just showing off.”
“Showing off wha- whoops.”
Jeanine made a slight move at her hips and
her curvaceous buttocks bumped the fridge door wider open. Not a mistake by any means.
Cynthia’s view was impressive – Jeanine’s
backside was just perfection. Jessica
Beal, but rounder. Jennifer Lopez but
tighter. And sitting pertly below her
tight and narrow tummy and waist, it made for an even more fantastic show. Cynthia couldn’t help but feel behind her for
her athletic yet puny butt and wish she had just a little more cushion for the
pushin, especially to match her overflowing boobs.
“Are these jeans too tight on me?” Jeanine’s question snapped Cynthia back to
reality. The wider-hipped of the two was
twirling around and stopped with her face turned away from Cynthia. They were very tight, Cynthia thought to
herself, but they seemed to be made for her.
Painted on and hugging her two bulbous yet taut cheeks, Cynthia simply
had to be awestricken by how such a shapely ass could sit so high on her legs
without even a bit of sag. Damn
genes. And jeans.
“They’re a size 6, but I have to take them
in at the waist and cinch them tight with a belt. I can never find pants that fit my waist AND
my booty. I think size 2 would fit me if
I didn’t have this junk in the trunk.”
As she said it, she slapped it, and Cynthia
could only watch as it barely quivered.
She could only hope it was the kind of figure that held together great
in her 20’s but exploded after metabolism slowed and kids popped out.
“Um, yeah, they seem to work.” Cynthia was a size 2 in the waist as well,
but her ass seemed to get a bit lost in all the back-side material.
“We should get going, right?” Haley walked back into the room, wearing a
different, tighter shirt. It clung to
her small breasts smartly, and apparently it had been cold in the
bathroom.
“You should try a padded bra, Haley,”
blurted Cynthia, sticking out her own gargantuan chest. “You won’t be so showy, plus it will give you
some extra… dimension.”
“Oh shut up, Cyn. Your nips are hard too. Mine are just more sensitive than most. I’m fine with what I’ve got. Besides, I can always use my hair to cover
them like they do in all those old paintings of Venus.” Haley took another opportunity to flip her
hair.
“Both of you have to learn what guys like,”
gloated Jeanine. “Low-cut tops draw them
in from two rooms away.” Jeanine bent
over slightly while she said it, under the guise of reaching for her
shoes. Her boobs were a healthy size,
but it was her stunning, deep, jiggling cleavage that went almost up to her
neck that had the girls staring.
“Whatever, you want to see cleavage? Imagine the rift between these babies.” Cynthia hoisted both her huge breasts and
shook them twice. The girls could
imagine, thought they wondered why they had never seen it.
“Okay, okay” said Haley, the one girl who
could not enter the boob argument. “We
all look good, alright? Now we’ve got to
get to the airport.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Back to present:
“Jeanine, move that ass of yours!.” The second-such joke in a few minutes. The girls were struggling to get to the
security line, and they all knew it would have to be quick if they had a chance
to get to their gate in time. All that
time in their respective bathrooms had cost them dearly.
The fall-behinds caught up just as Haley
reached the security area. Cynthia
arrived close behind, jogging, with one arm under her chest as further support
for her massive breasts.
“Sorry, it’s hard to run with big
tits. You can get a black eye, you
know.”
“No, I don’t know” huffed Haley. “But it’s not so easy with all this hair
either.” Even with all the running,
Haley’s hair looked amazing. Long,
curly, and full – not a strand out of place.
Jeanine finally reached them, very out of
breath and struggling to catch it. Her
friends exchanged a confused look, wondering how she could be so out of shape
with proportions like hers. Her gasps
were short and labored, almost as if her lungs were restricted.
“You okay, girl?” asked Cynthia. Jeanine finally composed herself and smiled.
“Sorry, some guys stopped me back there and
I fell behind. I had to race towards you
all to lose ‘em. They never stop, do
they?”
Haley and Cynthia grumbled as they heaved
their bags onto the conveyor belt. They
were only leaving for a week, but they had each checked 2 large bags and
carried two more medium-size bags with them.
Each wondered why the other brought so much, but said nothing since she
was bringing the same amount.
The gate to Italy Italy
Haley walked through first.
BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP.
The guard stopped her. Haley was confused, but complied when he told
her to drop all metal and send it through the machine.
BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP.
Her expression went from confused to
concerned as another guard led her over to a separate area.
Jeanine was next, with no better luck. Twice through and she was led to a separate
area.
They were joined shortly by Cynthia, who
demanded to try 3 times before giving up and sulking over to the others.
“Ladies, I’m going to wand you” said a
shapely yet plain looking security guard.
“Please stand still while I run this over your body.”
None of them knew what a wand was or what
it was looking for. They were from Texas , and as far as they were concerned, Texas was the United States
The wand paused at a level even with
Haley’s eyes, and the beeper was going mad.
“What does that mean?” questioned Haley.
“It detects metal,” responded the guard,
mildly amused. “Haven’t you ever flown?”
“N-no.”
“Well, it’s strange, but it’s saying you’ve
got some metal up here around your head.
Young lady, I think I know what’s going on, here.”
Haley recoiled, putting a hand through her
hair and stepping back.
“Listen, I can expla-“
“It’s okay, people come through with metal
plates in their head all the time. Just
step aside for a moment. Let me deal
with these girls. If you all read clear,
you can go.”
“O-okay.
Yes, metal plate.”
Jeanine was next. The wand stopped near her hips and cried
loudly.
“I have a pin in my hip,” offered Jeanine
confidently. “Skiing accident.”
The guard frowned, but moved on to
Cynthia. The guard started at her toes
and move upward, but again the wand screamed, right around her prominent
chest.
“Um, my underwire? It’s double-wired, to support the weight of
my… my”
“Yes, I see. You’re quite well-endowed. I get it.
Well, you can go ahead and take the bra off for a moment to confirm
that’s what’s causing the disturbance.
Just drop it for a moment, I’ll re-scan you, and you can be on your
way.”
Cynthia scoffed at the idea. “I certainly WON’T! That’s an invasion of privacy. I’m sure you’ve had women with DD’s walk
through this area before and have let them pass through. You’re just jealous and want to make a
scene.”
“Young lady, I’m surprised. You certainly don’t seem to mind showing them
off, yet all of a sudden you’re shy?”
Cynthia squirmed – the guard was
right, She was usually so proud to
display them, but now, she suddenly wished she could just move on to that
gate.
They all did.
“Listen, girls, I’m sorry to do this, but
something just isn’t adding up. You’re
explanations seem phony, and the wand doesn’t lie. We’ve got a problem.”
Five minutes later they were in a dank,
windowless room. Alone. Their gate to Italy
The guard with the wand entered the room,
and she entered with rubber gloves.
“Apparently none of you have ever flown before. Well let me clue you in on something. It’s a new world. We can’t just let anyone waltz onto a plane
anymore. We have security precautions to
be mindful of. And you gals just have
too much metal on your persons for us to let it go.”
The girls gave each other and the guard
nervous looks.
“So here’s how it’s going to go. You’re each going to be subjected to a strip
search. If you’ve got nothing to hide,
this shouldn’t be a problem and you might still reach your plane.”
She snapped on the rubber gloves.
“But if you all keep up your mysterious
behavior, this could go badly.”
She glanced at each of them – they all had
the same look: of a murderer being told it was his time to go to the
chair.
“Come on!
You all look like you’ve got no problem showing off those bodies of
yours. What’s the big deal? Don’t have a coronary. I’ll start with you.”
The guard pointed to Haley. Of all the girls, she seemed the least
troubled by this latest development. She
slowly stood up.
The guard continued. “I need you to remove your shirt and
pants. I’m not in this for kicks, but we
have to make sure everything’s kosher.”
Haley hesitated, then slowly unbuttoned her
top. Her pants were next which she
stepped out of quietly and slowly.
The guard, not to mention her friends, eyed
Haley slowly up and down. Her curves
were soft, not lean, yet in no way pudgy.
Average all around, a little small in the chest area. But her nipples shown dark and seemed to cut
like glass through her thin, light-colored bra.
The room was cold, sure, but this girl was breaking records for nipping
out.
The guard forgot that for a moment and
looked higher. Her face was ashen with
shame, which only made her blonde tress shine brighter and fuller. ‘Nice hair,’ thought the guard, but she
wasn’t here to ogle or envy.
“The bra and panties, too.”
Haley blanched, but resigned to the fact
that she would not be able to get out of this.
“Can you at least have them leave the
room?”
The guard shook her head no, and after a
short delay, Haley unclasped her bra.
“Oh my gosh, what are those?!”
Haley had removed her bra to expose her
unremarkable breasts, but something remained behind. On her small, A-cup size tits, rested two
over-sized and slipping plastic nipples.
“I-I – they’re nothing. I.”
Haley cupped her hands over her breasts and looked down with
shame.”
Cynthia and Jeanine both started
giggling.
“Whatever Cynthia!” wailed Haley. “You walk around with your headlights on like
your God’s gift. I just wanted to level
the playing field a bit.”
“Honey,” said Cynthia, “the only thing
level about this situation is your chest… level as a board.” She spoke with the confidence of someone who
wouldn’t face the same fate soon.
The guard told Haley to remove the
prosthetics – revealing two dime-sized and barely raised nipples – as well as
her underwear. Another surprise – Haley
was completely shaved.
“Well, I don’t think you’re hiding anything
in THERE,” stated the guard, but still, something seems… off.” She approached Haley, focusing on her head,
the source of all that wand noise. Haley
tensed, trying to back away, but the guard peered closely. Her hair was lovely, but she had to query why
there was no visible hair line. No
strand askew. If it was a metal plate,
surely there would be a scar, or a space where the hair grew differently. But no, all around, perfect, cascading,
golden blondeness. There could only be
one reason.
“Miss, are you wearing a wig?”
“Wha-what?
N-no!” But the guard wasn’t
waiting around for a response. She’d
already gone for the blonde mass above Haley’s cringing face.
In an instant, Haley’s pride had disappeared.
The guard pulled, and after just a bit of
resistance, came down with a full, heavy, blonde, curly wig. Its craftsmanship was impeccable, clearly
made from the finest materials and cared for with the upmost attention.
The three women in the room who weren’t
naked slowly looked up. Haley was
exposed, a thin, sheer cap clinging to her short, mousy, lifeless, light brown
hair. It stuck to her scalp
unglamorously. Numerous metal clips
added insult to injury, no doubt the source of the initial detector’s
wailing.
Jeanine yelped, “THAT’S your hair? So all this time you’ve been flipping that
dead rat in our faces, thinking you’re all high and mighty, but all you’ve
really got is some dull wispy strands?”
Haley shuddered, pulled both hands away
from covering her private yet somehow less embarrassing parts and covered her
head in shame.
“G-give my hair back. Please.”
“Your HAIR?” chimed in Cynthia. “It’s on your head, and it’s pathetic. I can’t believe all this time you’ve made
fun of how thin MINE was. Jeez, I’m a
supermodel compared to you. And what do
you call that color? Shit brown? What would the guys at the bar say now? All this time, the only real blonde was ME.”
Haley whimpered softly and turned to the
guard. “P-Please, give that back. You’ve proven your point, now give that
back.”
The guard shook her head and handed the
intricate wig back to the girl, whose face now seemed chubby and oversized for
her small frame. “Here’s your… hair,
little girl. You might get your real
hair to liven up if you stopped covering it with that… helmet you got
there. Oh, and don’t forget your fake
nipples.”
Haley gathered all of her clothes and
accessories and crawled to a corner, where she reassembled herself without a
word.
Cynthia and Jeanine continued to beam for a
moment, watching as Haley gently placed the wig back on her head and clipped it
into position, choosing to stuff the large nipples back into her purse rather
than go through the embarrassing effort of licking and sticking.
But their demeanor darkened when they
realized the guard’s attention had turned to them.
“You, you’re next.”
The finger pointed to Jeanine, who shot out
of her chair in the opposite direction of the guard. “You can’t do this! It’s not fair!”
“Why so worked up? I’d accuse you of wearing a wig too, but I
don’t know why you’d CHOOSE to have that mop of hair.” Jeanine’s arm shot to her head, a reflex, but
the comment did not phase her for long, and her arm came back down to join the
other, crossed in front of her waist. Her
back was against the far wall.
“Miss, I need you to remove your clothing
like your bald friend did.”
“I’m n-not BALD!” wailed Haley from the
corner, mirror in hand fixing her full wig to how she had it before.
But Jeanine still had not moved a
muscle.
“Darling,” said the guard. “With that body, I’m guessing you’ve removed
your clothes in front of people a bunch of times, even if it’s just one – or
two – guys at a time.”
If only the guard had known.
“Well, c-can’t they leave the room? I won’t undress in front of them.”
The guard sighed, tiring of the resistance. “I don’t have the patience for this. And based on these plane tickets, you don’t
have the time. If you don’t strip now,
you’re not going to make your flight.”
Jeanine looked defeated. She stared at the guard, then at her two
friends. She slowly pulled off her
fitted coat, leaving just a low-cut blouse and her body-hugging jeans. Her impossibly high breasts jiggled with the
movement.
“Now your top.” Jeanine could see there was no way getting
out of this. She slowly unbuttoned her
blouse, revealing a lacy black bra that showed off her high and firm breasts
even better… and revealing something else.
“GASP.”
It seemed to come from all 3 women at the same time.
“Is that a girdle?” blurted Haley,
apparently revived from her traumatic experience. She was staring at a black band of material
that encircled Jeanine’s waist. It
looked tight as a drum, and the vertical strips down each side and in front did
nothing to dispel that assumption.
“No!” screamed Jeanine, trying to cover up
with little luck.
“Actually,” the guard chimed in, “I think
she’s telling the truth. I’ve seen those
before, usually as part of Halloween costumes.
It’s a cincher… just meant for the waist. My friend Joan had to use one to get into an
Elvira costume one year, but I’ve never seen one in March…”
“It’s for back support!” interrupted
Jeanine. “Just to give me better posture
and to straighten my spine a bit.” And as if she was predicting what was going
to be asked of her next, she added “And the doctor told me I shouldn’t take it
off during the day.”
The guard wasn’t buying it. She said nothing, just waiting, staring down
Jeanine until the latter finally resolved to her fate.
“Oh, all RIGHT.”
Jeanine grunted as she reached to one side
and unclasped the hidden eyelets. As she
did, a dramatic change started to occur.
The sharp lines of Jeanine’s nipped waist seemed to blur, then ripple
outward, as if a balloon was being filled slowly with air. But still, the change wasn’t as drastic as
the guard expected, remembering back to what the garment did to her friend
Joan’s straight waist and pot belly. As
Jeanine slowly removed the cincher, clutching on to it like a security blanket,
the reason became apparent.
“Now THAT’S a girdle!” smiled Cynthia. The removed cincher didn’t reveal skin – it
just revealed another layer of garment, equally black and, apparently, equally
tight. It dipped down below the line of
Jeanine’s jeans, and extended up to just below her rib cage, where the flesh
previously covered by the cincher now fought to free itself from its
constraints: the result being a sizable roll of gooiness just below her bra
that extended all the way around to the back.
“You, you don’t understand. It’s just that it’s my time of the month and
I’m a bit bloated right now. This was
the only way I could fit into my jeans, which fit me most days of the month, I
swear!”
“With two, over-lapping body shaping
garments, eh? Well, just the same,”
shrugged the guard. “We’re going to need
you to remove your jeans and that… thing.
It might be what’s causing the wand levels to rise, and if you don’t
want to spend your Spring break in airport lock-up…”
Jeanine shuddered at the thought – or maybe
shuddered at the thought of removing more clothing – but didn’t resist in
reaching for her extremely tight jeans, which seemed even more strained now
with the departure of a key underpinning intended to suck its wearer in. She barely touched the top button before all
3 exploded outward. Jeanine struggled
hard to guide the jeans somewhat narrow waist over her tight, bulbous
behind. When the jeans dropped to the
floor, the onlookers got a full view of what moments ago they had only seen a
hint of.
Jeanine looked like she had just walked out
of page 73 of the Sears catalogue… the section that featured full-figured,
rather matronly-looking ladies squeezed into ridiculous looking Lycra-covered
contraptions. The women all looked the
same – thick, yet streamlined, featuring curves that did not seem natural (and
truly weren’t) on frames of their stature.
Jeanine looked like she was doing a parody of these women, at least 20
years junior of any woman you find in those catalogues. But the garment was the same. Tight, heavily paneled with criss-cross
patterns from waist line to her nether regions, and with extra reinforced panels
that paralleled the curve of her hips.
Jeanine felt all eyes on her and did a little pirouette, revealing even
more of her casings. More panels-
looking even more constricting than those in the front, shot down from her hips
and under Jeanine’s two cheeks, appearing to act like an underwire for her
buttocks, lifting and separating just like a Wonderbra. A pronounced line cut down between the two
cheeks, creating a sizeable cleft not noticeable on those catalogue
models. It seemed this feature’s only
role was to throw off suspicion of something sinister happening back there,
since most girdles gave that mono-butt look instead of two tight and lovely
cheeks.
“Oh my goodness,” giggled Cynthia. “How do you get INTO that thing every
day? No wander you waddle when you walk – I thought
it was just a sexy slither, but now I think it’s because you can barely move.”
It also explained why Jeanine couldn’t run very fast, and seemed to be
unusually out of breath whenever she did.
The guard was still staring at her. Jeanine looked ashen everywhere but her face,
where her cheeks were the color of a shiny new Stop sign. She did her best to shake off her friend’s
ribbings and moved her hands cautiously to the back, where she started to undo
the clasps that bound her in. It took
time – no doubt the bulk of her bathroom time each day – but eventually the
contraption was unfastened. Again,
however, her curvature change was minimal – she still seemed girdled tight. The guard noted this, and with one finger
motioned for Jeanine to remove the item completely.
Jeanine shook her head “no” softly, but
continued on anyway. It was as if she
was trying to make a deal with a higher power but to no avail. She began to peel the garment down off of her
tummy and past her hips and buttocks, on towards her thighs. Her actions were deliberate, as if it truly
was a struggle. Beads of sweat began
running down her face.
As the flesh expanded underneath the
underpinning, so did the 6 eyes watching her every move. A prominent tummy appeared first – not large,
but dramatic enough when one thought back to how sharply defined her waist and
flat as a board her stomach had been just moments before – followed by a quite
sizable inches increase at the hips.
While previously, Jeanine’s hips seemed to be the same width as her
shoulders, soft, jiggly excess now jutted out a few inches further on each
side. Her whole body shifted from
hourglass to pear in seconds.
As Jeanine bent over to step out of the
garment, two things were immediately noticeable. First, billowy fluffs of flesh bulged out at
her waist level with the bend. Flat
tummy indeed. Jeanine could have started
a bakery with those rolls, admittedly accentuated by her maneuver. But it was what was happening behind her
that truly had the viewers’ jaws dropping.
Jeanine had always had a curvaceous ass, but it was tight and firm and
well contained. Some would have even
described it as muscular, given its tautness.
No more. Jeanine’s butt was just
large. And not only large but
unruly. Each cheek seemed to fight with
the other, pushing back and forth against each other in a sea of movement. It had traveled a few inches down onto the
back of her thighs as well, sagging noticeably with the weight of the mass
contained within. It appeared Jeanine’s
Freshman 15 had turned into a Senior 30 somewhere along the way, and she had
worked hard to hide it.
“Wow!” yelled Haley, now fully
re-assembled. “That’s BIG!”
“What’s that you said about a size 2?”
smirked Cynthia, who stood up from her chair and overdramatically hiked up her
own jeans for less-than-subtle comparison purposes.
“I’m no expert” dead-panned the guard, “but
that seems like a bit more than bloat, don’t you think? And no panties, I see… not enough room under
those garments I suppose?”
Jeanine’s bits were exposed, covered with a
well-trimmed and shaped triangle of dark hair that matched the color on her
head, yet the whole area was somewhat hidden by the thickness of her thighs on
each side.
The bigger-than-thought-boned girl only
made matters worse by continuing to jump around and fling her arms around
trying to keep her unmentionables unmentioned.
Each move made parts of her shake and blubber where shaking and blubber
had not previously occurred. Her right
hip bumped one of the unoccupied chairs around the table and knocked it over
completely.
“Just like the refrigerator door this
morning,” mused Cynthia. “Only the chair
was pretty far away. I guess you’re not
used to sticking out that far!”
“Enough” said the guard to the giggling
girls before turning back to Jeanine.
“This is almost over, and then you can tuck yourself back in. But I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you
to take off your bra as well.”
Jeanine stopped jumping about and shot a
panicked look back at the guard. “B-but
you’ve already got the source of the problem.
My gir-, my underwear has metal in it, okay?”
“First of all, calling that ‘underwear’ is
the understatement of the century.
Second, I guess you still don’t understand how a strip search
works. You have to STRIP. All three of you sent up red flags in the
system with these unusual readings and even more unusual explanations. It would be one thing if you were flying from
Houston to Dallas Houston to
Rome
Cynthia and Haley exchanged a confused
look. Neither could understand why
Jeanine was fighting this one. The way
she liked to display those well-sized and perky breasts, they assumed she’d
have no problem unleashing them.
Especially to take attention away from her many problem areas further
down (and out).
But she still was fighting it… though it
was a losing battle. The guard watched
as the full-figured one hesitated. Her
first thought was that it was a minimizer bra – wouldn’t surprise her, given
all the other minimizer garments this girl fancied. Maybe she was embarrassed of her large chest
to go along with her large ass? Still,
it was clear these were something to be proud of – big and buoyant.
She learned the truth quickly when Jeanine
finally reached around to unhook the bra and slid the straps off her
shoulder. Gravity took care of the
rest. Big, yes. Buoyant, no.
In the quiet, windowless room, you could
actually hear the thwacking noise of skin slapping against skin, as Jeanine’s
two definitely large C-cup breasts moved quickly from up just under her
collarbone all the way down to resting lifelessly near mid-rib cage. The change in profile was significant, as the
once shelf-like, torpedo-shaped breasts seemed to lose air and deflate to
half-full, sagging with weight on to her torso just as her ass had sagged on to
her thighs. Her small nipples on top of
large areolas pointed not northward or forward, but rather seemed like doughy
eyes looking sadly downward, down at her over-taxed bra and constricting vices
strewn about the floor.
Haley and Cynthia’s stunned silence turned
into loud laughter as they ogled the mis-shapen form of their once
awesomely-curved best friend. Jeanine
tried desperately to squeeze her arms together to provide some sort of support
for her sagging breasts, but the results were minimal. She wanted nothing more than to cover up –
the guard finally relented.
“Okay, ma’am,” spoke the guard,
accentuating the term “ma’am,” usually reserved for older women who sported
softer bodies and breasts that had sagged with time, to accentuate how closely
this 20-year old’s form mirrored theirs.
“Gather your things and get dressed again.”
Jeanine plunged for the pile of clothes and
garments – not an easy task considering how many items there were – before the
guard stopped her.
“No, not that girdle thing. We need to run more tests on that before
handing it back. Go ahead and get
dressed without it.”
“B-but” whimpered Jeanine. “M-my jeans won’t…”
“Speak up, ma’am.”
“I said I can’t fit into these jeans
without that.” She pointed to the
item.
“Without what?”
“My girdle, okay? Are you happy?”
More snickers from the peanut gallery
behind her.
“Not happy,” claimed the guard. “Let’s say ‘satisfied’ after the trouble you
were giving me. You and that ‘pin in
your hip’.” The guard’s eyes dropped
back down to Jeanine’s uber-wide hips and uber-er large butt when she said
it. “Take the girdle too – we don’t need
it. But you seem to”
Jeanine quickly gathered up her things,
bending over in such a way to shield her overly-healthy rump and sagging
breasts from the lookers-on. Her torture
was not done, however, as the guard waited patiently while Jeanine went through
the ritual of twisting and squeezing and sucking it all in to get her girdle
and cincher back in place. The girls
roared with laughter.
“Sh-shut up! Th-this is all just temporary until I can
lose a few pounds.”
“Jeanie, it’s going to take at least 20 to
get that ass into anything under a size 12,” snapped the thin-framed
Haley.
“Oh yeah?” fired back Jeanine. “Should we go back to talking about the ‘few
pounds” of blonde you’ve got piled on your head for all the world to
admire? Between your head and your vag,
you’re seriously lacking in the hair department!”
The guard quieted them and turned back to
Jeanine, continuing to wait while the artificially whittled girl hoisted each
of her pendulous breasts back into its holster, tightening the straps as much
as she could to lift the mounds back up to the cantilevered height she
preferred (and the guys preferred too).
While she put on the over-garments that cleverly hid all the physics underneath,
the guard spun back around to Cynthia.
Cynthia didn’t even notice the guard, as
she was still eyeing Jeanine and pointing, whispering to her falsely-follicled
friend about how now that they knew, you could make out the lines of the girdle
running across Jeanine’s lower thighs if you looked for them.
“Excuse me, miss? I believe it’s your turn.”
Cynthia sprung to attention. She’d reveled in her friends’ downfalls and
soaked up every last artifice. But
that’s the problem with vanity – you never think the glaring eye of suspicion
will ever turn back on you. Clearly
thinking it was a dream from which she’d eventually wake up, reality sunk in,
and Cynthia sprung from her chair and made a mad dash for the door.
The guard chased her but, having to dodge
the table that held the thinly haired and thickly bodied twosome, it was too
late. Cynthia flung the door open and
ran out towards the gate. She didn’t get
far, however, as two male guards nabbed her, dragging her back towards that
small, featureless room. The two new
guards seemed to both steal glances down at the slight yet stacked girl’s
enormous globes as they bounced merrily while she struggled to escape.
“Well, well,” smiled the female guard. “You’re as fidgety as your two fake friends
here. Have you got something to hide as
well, dear?”
“No,” stated Cynthia defiantly as she was
held against the far wall by the two burly guards. “Not a thing.
It’s just that I know my rights, and you can’t subject me to this.” With her hands on her hips and her rebellious
stance, Cynthia’s beautiful bosom stuck out even more, dwarfing everyone else
in comparison, even Jeanine and her restored, propped up boobs. One guard’s hand that held the girl’s
shoulder seemed to drift down closer to her heaving chest as he tried not to
stare at the turgid nipples almost ripping through her top.
“You don’t know anything,” stated the
original guard. “Did you think you
weren’t going to have to go through the same thing they did? My suspicions run even deeper with you. You seem to be the ring leader of this sad
lot, and do you know how many women hide incendiary devices in their bras? Much more common than under a wig or a
girdle.”
Haley and Jeanine shifted uncomfortably in
their chairs.
Cynthia shook off the two guards and
straightened herself. “Well, I’ll gladly
strip down to my underwear, but that’s it.
Anything further is immoral. I’m
the daughter of a pastor and it would just be wrong. I need to stay covered up.”
Jeanine had regained some confidence and
snorted loudly in the background. It was
true, Cynthia’s father was a pastor, but that never seemed to prevent her from
flaunting her ‘girls’ in tight tops.
Although Jeanine did have to remember how she had never seen her
big-jugged friend wear anything low-cut.
Maybe she WAS morally sound.
The female guard didn’t say a word to
either okay or deny the large-breasted young lady standing in front of
her. She simply nodded for her to begin
disrobing.
Cynthia paused, looking at the two
barrel-chested guards on either side of her.
“Aren’t you going to ask them to leave?”
“I’m sorry no,” replied her favorite
guard. “You’re a threat to run. Bill, Dewey, please guard the entrance… on
THIS side of the door.”
As the two guards took their position, with
grins on their faces and leering eyes unbecoming their profession, Cynthia
nearly fainted with this new development.
She soon composed herself, however, not wanting to give anyone in the
room the satisfaction of knowing she was embarrassed. ‘Just get down to your bra and panties,’ she
thought to herself, ‘then it will all be over.’
Cynthia quickly removed her jeans, then
took off her top much more slowly, leaving her in her under-layers only. “There, see?
I’m not hiding anything. Go ahead
and wand my bra again – you’ll see it’s just my underwire.”
Her audience wasn’t really listening to her
pleas. They instead seemed to be more
surprised with the top-heavy girl’s choice of bra and underwear. Both were white, full-coverage, and more
fitting for a woman that had seduced a husband with black lingerie years ago
and had no further need to impress.
Certainly not the typical threads for a hot, young 20-year old with
obscenely large attributes and a tight lower body, and certainly not matching
the Victoria
The male guards’ eyes were clearly not at
the level of the girl’s eyes, instead staring at her tiny waist and sinewy abs,
not to mention her glorious tits.
Cynthia seemed not to be embarrassed of her choice in undergarments; as
she spotted the two guards drooling over her, she flipped her honey-blonde –
and as previously learned, now the best of the three friends – hair over her
shoulder and put her hands on her hips.
The female guard assessed the
situation. Based on her speech and
choice in underwear, it was looking more and more like this girl was telling
the truth. The girl apparently had morals
to uphold, and the last thing this guard wanted to do was get on the bad side
of a pastor. She was about to let her go
without going the full monty, when she caught the smug look the well-endowed
girl was now giving her co-workers.
“I’m sorry, but this just isn’t going to
work for me. I appreciate your values,
but they won’t get you out of a full strip search. You are going to have to remove your last two
items.”
Cynthia’s world came crashing down with
that last statement. She thought about
making another run for the door, but it seemed the guards standing by it would
like that just a bit too much. She
turned to the female guard, begging with her eyes for reprieve from this death
sentence. But the guard’s expression did
not flicker.
The girl started with her panties, calmly
pulling them down to her ankles and waiting for the comments she know would
come.
“WHOA, nice bush!” belted out Jeanine. “You scrub dishes with that Brillo pad?”
Even the female guard cracked a small
smile. It was funny, and not a wholly
unfair metaphor. The girl had a thick,
unkempt thatch of pubic hair taking up residence between her thighs, trimmed
back just enough to keep the mass of hair within the confines of her
full-coverage panties. But even more
surprising was its jet-black hue.
“Looks like the carpet doesn’t match the
drapes,” blurted Haley between chuckles.
“Blonde since, birth, huh?” The
girl with the enormous wig stopped short before continuing, realizing the
unfortunate irony in her statement.
“Well I used to be blonder! It got darker with age – I just color enough to
keep it where it was 10 years ago. And I-I
told you, I have a pastor for a father.
We were brought up not to care about things like making landing strips
and hearts out of our hair down there!”
“Geez though, Cyn, you could at least cut
it down to look less like an afro,” laughed Jeanine. “How do guys find there way?”
“Oh, I don’t know, JEANIE. But at least they don’t have to part rolls of
fat to find it!”
Jeanie recoiled. That stung.
Cynthia shot another look at the male
guards to gauge reaction. The wild bush
did not seem to phase them; besides, their eyes were focused higher up. Not necessarily a good thing.
“The bra, please. Release the hounds.” The female guard knew she shouldn’t be so
unprofessional, but even she was wondering how a girl so small could carry
around a chest so big.
Cynthia seemed to go through a range of
emotions in just a few seconds. First
rage, then fear, then defeat, and finally, a trance-like state. As if she was shutting out everything around
her, preparing for what might come next.
She didn’t move. And despite the
female guard’s shouts and demands, her frozen condition remained.
The guard could tell this wasn’t going to
be easy. The girl’s eyes were open, but
she displayed no reaction to her screaming.
Not even a blink. It appeared
she’d have to take a more active role in the big-titted girl’s disrobing.
She walked over to where Cynthia was
standing and rotated her towards the door, facing out to Bill and Dewey. She reached for the clasp at the back of the
bra, whose tag was face out reading “Maidenform 32DD.” ‘Maidenform?’ the guard thought. ‘Geez, my mom wears that brand.’
The guard fumbled with the clasp. The girl had still not moved a muscle, very
stiff as a stranger fiddled with her most private underthings. When she finally released the clasp, the bra
seemed to shoot off the girls shapely shoulders and muscular back. She then heard two strange “plopping” sounds
followed by an “Oh my” from Bill.
“Manners, Bill. Like you’ve never seen big breasts at a strip
club before.” The female guard still
didn’t know what the big deal was from her position in the back. Neither, it seemed, did the girl’s two
friends along the side wall.
“It’s not… um… that… she…” Bill couldn’t take his eyes off the young
woman’s chest, but his expression seemed less lust and more disappointment.
The female guard had just about enough, and
took the girl by the shoulders and spun her back to face her (odd how she
seemed much lighter now as she shifted the body fully around).
She and the two other fakers gasped so
loudly and deliberately, they seemed to suck all the air right out of the
room.
Cynthia seemed to regain consciousness,
most likely the result of her friends’ reactions – not laughter like previously,
but more shock than anything. Cynthia
tried to cover up, which wasn’t difficult.
Her small hands did not have much to cover.
“Oh my,” said the female guard. Now she knew what Bill had felt. While she had expected to see two huge, now
un-contained breasts bouncing to and fro on the young girls otherwise narrow
upper body, she was now looking at something completely different.
Cynthia had no breasts.
Of course, she had them technically, but
their size was so diminutive, their stature so diminished, it was hard to think
of them as breasts at all. While Cynthia
continued to try to cover them and her huge mat of midnight black pubic hair at
the same time, the female guard and the falsely-jugged girl’s two friends
caught momentary eyefuls (more like eye-lesses) of Cynthia’s true
attributes. Two barely perceptible
mounds, with small, tiny nipples sitting in the middle. The areolas seemed to have the same diameter
as the nipples, making her chest look even more featureless. It appeared Cynthia had never developed in
the breast area, most likely a result of her athleticism, and ever since
puberty ceased, had resorted to other measures to give the illusion of
breasts. Of course, somewhere along the
way, she had made the decision to take it to an extreme, opting not to stop at
a reasonable B or even a respectable C – she moved right past D and onto DD,
which looked ridiculous and at the same time amazing on her tight body.
Haley was the first to make a comment, not
surprisingly. “Well, well Cyn. Looks like I’m NOT the one with the smallest
tits in our little group. I bet all the
girls you have flaunted those falsies in front of like you were queen of the
Amazons would love to know THAT!” Haley
stuck out her A-cups proudly – they barely indented her shirt, and of course
without her fake nipples, did not make much of an impression – which now seemed
like porn-star size compared to Cynthia.
“What was that you said about ‘level as a board’? Shall we stand side by side and compare?”
It would have been a landslide in Haley’s
favor. With Cynthia’s lithe body and now
concave chest, she looked like a 12-year old in all ways but one: the very
womanly wool carpet that stretched from thigh to thigh and up to the line of
her hips gave her away as much older.
“Q-quiet!” Cynthia spoke for the first time
since her humiliating unveiling. “It’s
not funny! I’m saving up for the
surgery, but it’s expensive!”
The guard was already reaching down to pick
up the two gelatinous items that had plopped out of the girl’s grossly
over-sized bra and on to the ground. They
were heavy, clear-colored, and filled with some sort of liquid. Falsies, but like none she’d ever seen. She turned them over in her hand – one side
had a slight depression, obviously where the real breast tissue was housed,
while the other had a large, rose-colored bump that stuck out an inch from the
rest of the mound. A nipple, to complete
the illusion (and a hard nipple at that).
“I’ve seen these on TV, but never this
size,” the guard wondered. She turned
them over again. “Or quality.” A closer look gave her an answer. “Made in France
“Shut up!” screamed Cynthia. “You’re just jealous of how good I look with
them. No one can tell.”
The guard saw another sentence under the
“Made in France
The guard pointed to Bill and Dewey at the
door. Dewey was laughing quietly, trying
to cover his mouth with his hand, while Bill whispered something obviously
crude in his ear.
“Oh, and hate to rain on your parade,
missy, but you’re not a likely candidate for surgery. You have to have some tissue to start with in
order for them to have the space to stuff anything inside. I guess you’ll have to stick to these…
outside implants.”
Jeanine laughed. “Yeah, they can’t make mountains out of
molehills. Well, I guess YOU can.”
Cynthia started to cry. “WhatEVER, Jeanine!” At least my tits don’t
sag down to my waist.”
Jeanine was unphased . “You’re right, they can’t sag if they aren’t
there. Honestly, Cyn, it wouldn’t even
be that big of a deal – I mean Haley has small titties and we love her – except
that you have chosen to stick them in our faces for the last 3 years. Who knew all this time that under all that
padding, you were sticking bony ribs in our faces.”
Cynthia was a mess. She turned to the guard and begged for the
chance to put herself back together. The
male guards had started laughing so loudly that they had to leave the room –
Cynthia’s spell over them had long since broken.
The guard nodded approval for Cynthia to
put her clothes back on, but she did not let go of the two jiggling, football
sized globes in her hands. Cynthia
gathered the laughably sized DD bra and was ready to put it back on when she
looked to the guard to give her back all her breast padding.
“I’m truly sorry – we can’t allow liquids
on the plane. Especially liquid like
this which… well… I don’t even know what it is.”
“What?! You’re kidding, just like you did
with Jeanie’s girdle.”
“Not this time. Didn’t you read all the safety rules? No liquid containers over 4 oz. in size and,
well, these are way over the limit.”
She shook them and saw the strange gel
inside move about. This girl was
unbelievable. Apparently, foam or tissue
was too unrealistic, and plain old water was too much of a risk. It seemed she had opted for the most
expensive falsies on the market, filled with some sort of silicon-like gel that
truly mirrored the texture of a breast implant.
“We’ll have to mail these to you. Although since packages are priced based on
weight, it’s going to be quite expensive – we’ll send them COD.”
“B-but, how am I supposed to put my bra
back on? T-this one won’t fi-“
“Try this.”
Haley had pulled one of her own, lacy A-cup
bras out of her carry-on and flung it at Cynthia. Cynthia frowned, but quickly put it on to at
least cover her tiny breasts once and for all.
The tears started flowing again – the bra was baggy in the cups.
“Aw, don’t cry,” exclaimed Haley – I think
I still have a few training bras I can give you. I outgrew those a long time ago.” Haley was loving the fact that she had the
second-biggest breasts in the house, and by far the perkiest.
Cynthia jumped into her large panties,
ignoring the snickers from her friends as she methodically pulled stray patches
of her dark pubic hair within their boundaries.
She then threw her pink shirt over her body – she now swam in it, as
without her massive globes to stretch it to its limits, the size L was
completely unnecessary.
Finally, the girls were all reassembled and
hopeful that their nightmare was over.
The guard gave them one final once-over, shaking her head with amusement,
and waved her hand toward the door, motioning that they were okay to go. All
three scrambled out of the room like they were leaving a too-hot sauna. Cynthia covered her uninspiring chest as best
she could while her other friends – fully recovered and put back together from
their own traumatic experiences – laughed loudly at her plight.
The guard was not going to let them off
that easily.
As the three moved swiftly away from
security, the guard yelled out as if she wanted all the airport to hear,
especially the group of college lacrosse players currently moving through
security and eyeing the seemingly attractive yet truthfully deceptive
threesome.
“Oh and ladies, next time leave the full
wigs and ridiculous girdles at home! Be
proud of your mousy hair and pudgy bodies!”
The lacrosse players started laughing. Cynthia, Jeanine, and Haley moved more
quickly towards an exit. Spring Break
was cancelled.
THE END
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