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Dr. Hooters #25: Catfights and Dress- ups
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
Dr. Hooters Part XXV
Catfights and Dress-ups
"Hey Amy! Quit pushing!", Sherry scolded.
"Watch it yourself, no-speekee!", came the reply. Sherrie's
cheeks burned. Even in the breakfast line they wouldn't let up
on her. The first-year girls always ate last, and by the time
they were served, the cooks weren't as generous and the food
wasn't very hot. Thus the impatience.
The other girls in the line, friends of Amy and identical to her
in looks and character, giggled and sniggered. God! Help me with
these pendejas, she thought. Looking back at them, she wondered
how her father could possibly have made such a mistake as to send
her up here with these simpering, horse-faced, flat-chested, fat-
assed... Well, here comes Missy Melons, she thought. Things
would get interesting now.
The gaggle of girls behind Sherrie froze into silence as Melissa
Mellon strolled by. Her blonde hair swayed behind her, falling
loosely over her shoulders and halfway down her back. She took
her place at the head of the line, as was her custom. She turned
and greeted Sherrie.
"Mooo-o-o-o-!", called out one of the girls in line, and the
whole group began to giggle.
"Good morning, Sherrie", she said brightly, ignoring the remark,
"Where's Ronnie?"
"Some people think they can cut in line just 'cause they got big
tits!", came the accusation from behind Sherrie. Missy ignored
it. Feared and envied, Missy was allowed to cut in line because
she was at least as strong as she was stacked.
"Ronnie's not feeling too well today, Missy", Sherrie replied.
She knew how to handle big-breasted girls. Both her sisters were
larger than Missy.
"That's a shame. I was hoping we could team up on the flag squad
today. She's the only one tall enough not to make me look like a
flag pole!" Missy was happy for Sherrie's friendship, as the
other girls ostracized her as much for her over-exuberant figure
as they did Sherrie and Veronica for their race.
"I'm probably going to be riding Silversheen today, Missy. If
you like, I could pair up with you. I'll be just about level
with you if you ride Dark Prancer".
"My mother says big breasts are so common!", another girl re-
marked from behind Sherrie.
Enraged, Missy thrust her fist out over Sherrie's shoulder and
poked a long index finger in the direction of the offender.
"I'll kick your common little ass, Amy Parmenter!!"
Pushing Missy away from the other girls, Sherrie attempted to
calm her down. "Hey, Missy, don't get all bent outta shape.
She's just jealous!"
Missy tucked the front of her blouse back into her skirt, thrust-
ing her impressive breasts out even further. "They wouldn't make
fun of me if they knew it wasn't all fun being this big. None of
the girls will talk to you, and all the boys wanna do is put
their hands under your shirt. Why, last year, even my home room
teacher Mr. Johnson..."
"Listen, my moo-cow", suggested Sherrie, turning Missy around in
line, "don't worry too much about your tits. My sisters are both
larger than you and they learned to deal with it. Don't be a
priss. See if you can talk Mrs. Vanderleer into letting you ride
Dark Prancer today, and I'll be your partner for the flag exer-
cise!"
But 'Missy Melons' wasn't having it. A girl had stuffed her
sweater and that of another girl under her shirt, and was parad-
ing up and down the line in a gross parody of Missy's sashay.
Reaching out a long arm, she grabbed the offender by the roots of
her chestnut hair.
The hapless girl was pulled into a tight arc by Missy's powerful
tug. "Ow! You're hurting me!", she complained.
"Shut up, you little bitch!", Missy screamed, "I'm gonna kick
your little ass!" She dragged the girl underneath her and began
flailing away at her with her free fist. The other girls jumped
at Missy en masse and a melee erupted. At first, the tall blonde
had no trouble handling herself. She flung the smaller girls
about and pummeled the larger ones. Sherrie jumped in to her
friend's defense, pulling a fat brown-haired girl off Missy's
back.
Soon the weight of numbers began to tell against them, though,
and Sherry and Missy were driven to the ground. They heard the
sharp tweet of Mrs. Vanderleer whistle and her commanding bark of
a voice.
"Girls! Girls! What's the meaning of this?"
Darien Bloomsborough, a tiny little slip of a girl with huge
brown eyes and an angelic face, told Mrs. Vanderleer that Melissa
Mellon had been making faces at her, and that Sherry had slapped
her when she didn't laugh. Most grown-ups believed Darien be-
cause she had a very innocent face, and she was a very good liar.
She stuck her tongue out at Sherrie.
The crowd of girls dispersed. Sobbing, Missy picked herself up
off the ground. Her shirt was ripped and torn in a dozen places,
and all her buttons had popped off. She stood in front of Mrs.
Vanderleer in her big pink bra and fought back the tears.
"Melissa Mellon and Sherrie Rodriguez!", snorted the silver-
haired matriarch of the Academy. "I might have guessed! Is
there no rascality here at the Academy that either one or both of
you isn't at the bottom of?" She scowled especially at Missy,
who was vainly trying to cover her cantelope sized breasts with
the remnants of her shirt. "Both of you are confined to your
cabins for the rest of the day!"
Slipping her foot behind Darien Bloomsborough's knee, Sherrie was
able to send her toppling to the ground for sticking out her
tongue at Missy. As they walked away under the baleful glare of
Mrs. Vanderleer, Sherrie put her arm around Missy's shoulders.
The blonde was crying softly. Glancing at Missy's big bra, she
shook her head. There was a tag sticking out from the shoulder
strap - 36DD it read. Just like my sisters, thought Sherrie, too
big too soon.
They walked together until the path to their cabins diverged.
"Hey, Missy! Come on over to our cabin later!", she invited.
"About ten or eleven, when everyone's at the corral. Later,
they'll be busy with the flag exercise, and we can hang out all
afternoon!" Missy nodded her head in agreement and a slight
smile returned to her face.
***************************
The sun rose higher in the sky, the morning progressed. Veronica
stirred, turned over, stretched her long limbs and sat up.
"Hey, Sherrie-berry!", she yawned, delighted to see her friend in
the cabin, " What's shakin'?"
Sherrie shrugged. "Missy Melons got into a fight over her big
tits. I helped her out. We both got confined to cabin."
"These jealous little biddies never let up for a minute, do
they?", Veronica asked rhetorically. "Missy isn't hurting anyone
by having big boobs."
"And its not like she's stealing anyone's boyfriend away. Not up
here!", Veronica added darkly.
"Anyway, I invited her over later, when they're busy with the
flag exercise.", Sherrie related, "That VanderLeer bitch will be
down at the stables all morning getting the horses ready."
While Veronica was washing and dressing, Sherrie took advantage
of the odd free moment to write Marsha Sanchez a letter. Dear
Marsha! She thought back to all the weird happenings her last
few days in South Florida, and wondered if they'd all been a
dream. By the time Veronica was finished, Sherrie had the letter
ready. "Be a dear, and post this for me, Ronnie.", she asked,
"Cabin restriction doesn't apply to you."
Veronica wanted to talk. "Sherrie, what we did last night, I,
uh, well..."
"Don't sweat it, Ronnie. It doesn't mean you're a lesbian, and
I'm not telling anyone. You're a dear friend, and I had a lot of
fun last night, but I'd jump over three of you to get my hands on
one swangin' thang."
Something ignited inside Veronica's dark lovely face. A dazzling
smile broke across her face, and a look of tenderness came into
her fawn-colored eyes. Veronica lay a long slender cool hand
along the side of Sherrie's face and gave her a light kiss on the
lips. Then she took the letter out of Sherrie's hand, and ran
down to the office to post it.
By the time Veronica returned, Melissa had stolen away from her
own cabin and was sitting on Sherrie's bed. They were replaying
the events of earlier that morning.
"I tell you, Sherrie, I'm sick of it!", Missy exclaimed. "Its,
like, everywhere I go, girls treat me like shit. They point and
laugh, they moo when I walk by, they pick fights with me."
Sherrie laughed. "You did a good job on that little Maureen
slut. She thought she was gonna get away with that little stuff-
ing act."
Missy thrust her chest out at Sherrie. "Sherrie, am I **that**
big?" Missy was thirteen going on twenty-five, and her large,
shapely breasts threatened to burst out of her shirt with the ef-
fort. Sherrie could see the floral design on the capacious pink
bra Missy was still wearing under the white linen. Shit, she
thought, one of her flowers is bigger than my whole cup.
"You are pretty big, Missy", said Veronica, closing the door and
reclining on her bed. "I'm sixteen, and you're much bigger than
I am."
Sherrie glanced over at the pale blonde locks flowing over and
around Missy's slender shoulders. No wonder the other girls got
jealous of Missy. All of thirteen years old, and look at her!
Waist-length blonde hair, acres of legs- my God, I bet she has a
34 inseam at least!, little tight ass muscles that do a figure-
eight when she walks. If she was flat-chested, Missy would still
be provoking jealousy.
But she's not flat-chested. Oh, no! She's got b-i-i-i-g tits.
Big firm conical tits that fill out a T-shirt like the wind fills
out the sail on a sailboat...
Reaching under her bed, Sherrie pulled out one of her suitcases
and rummaged around in it. She pulled out a bottle of Bacardi
Light. "Greetings from sunny Miami, kids!", she shouted. "Let's
have a party!"
"Hot damn! Liquor!", responded Veronica. "I'll go get us some
Pepsi to go with it!" In a flash she was gone.
"Sherrie", Missy whined, "I've never done any drinking!"
Gawd A-mighty, thought Sherrie. Bet she's a virgin, too! "Don't
worry, Missy honey.", she replied, "You don't have to drink a lot
if you don't want to, but at least try a little!"
Veronica was back shortly with the Pepsis, and Sherrie mixed them
drinks in Dixie cups, light for Missy, more robust for Veronica
and herself. The three girls sat sipping the rum for a while,
and Sherrie and Missy gave Veronica a blow-by-blow account of the
fight that morning.
After Veronica and Sherrie had had three rum-and-Cokes, and Missy
had finished her second, they pushed their bunks into the walls
and did a little dancing. Sherrie cranked up some salsa tapes on
Veronica's boombox, and showed the other girls some Latin dances.
Then Veronica taught them some hip-hop moves behind some heavy
city-girl rap. Finally, giggling madly, Missy was persuaded to
throw on some country tapes, and she pulled the other two into a
staggering line dance.
"You're pretty good, Missy!", remarked Veronica. "That was a lot
of fun!" By this time, the bottle was almost gone, and all
three girls were feeling fairly giddy. Missy, especially, was
feeling no pain. After the last line dance, she began strutting
around the cabin, cupping her hands under her generous breasts
and issuing challenges to her non-present adversaries.
Veronica leaned back on the bed. "You know", she mused, "I'm
sick of this goody-goody crap they make us wear. Let's dress
like sluts!"
"I wanna be a slut! I wanna be a slut!", shouted Missy.
Sherrie squeaked with delight at this idea. She had brought
plenty of provocative Miami summer-wear with her, but she hadn't
had a chance to use it. She dumped the contents of a full suit-
case onto her bed, and the three girls fell to the task with a
vengeance.
They worked on Sherrie first. With Veronica's styling iron, they
put a flirty curl into Sherrie's straight black hair. False eye-
lashes, eye liner, and mounds of rouge went onto Sherrie's face,
creating a whoreish, street-hardened look that even surprised
Sherrie herself. She put the lipstick on herself, tracing a
scarlet line around her pouty lips, then filling it with carmine.
Brown eye-shadow completed the make-over, and then Sherrie
slipped into a pair of shorts that she had to exhale to get into.
Being small-busted, Sherrie bound her chest with tape under her
tits to push them up and together, producing a respectable amount
of cleavage for her size. "That's a little trick you two will
never have to resort to", she said as she slipped on a red halter
top, and pulled on a pair of red, five-inch spike heels.
She admired herself in the mirror. Veronica drew in her breath,
and Missy giggled madly. "What a little whore, Sherrie!", Veron-
ica beamed. "You look good enough to eat!"
Veronica's hair was perfect, so Sherrie and Missy just tied a
white bow across the top, and let the rest fall across Veronica's
face and shoulders in loose curls. Blue eye-shadow and Sherrie's
blue clear-glass contact lenses created a striking contrast with
Veronica's chocolate complexion.
"I gotta try this mini-skirt!", Veronica shouted, pulling a white
skirt out of the bottom of her traveling bag. She wiggled into
it, and sure enough, it was breathtaking. Veronica's long legs
plunged out of the bottom of the white skirt like a cocoa explo-
sion. Tight as a sausage casing, the skirt hugged every curve
and slope of her shapely ass.
"Now for the boobs!", exclaimed the black girl, peeling away her
Academy uniform shirt to reveal a flawless double scoop of choco-
late ice cream encased in a black lace bra. Veronica pulled the
bra away, showing how little she needed it. Her nipples were so
dark, they looked purple, and the well-defined areolae on her
softball-sized, teardrop-shaped breasts were the size of half-
dollars.
Sherrie threw her two shirts. "What'll it be, Ronnie?", she
asked, "Tight to show the nipples, or loose 'n' open to flash the
whole boob?"
"Loose 'n' open, baby", Veronica laughed. "Hell, I'll just use
the uniform shirt." She pulled the Academy's linen shirt back
on, but left five of the seven buttons unfastened. Her neckline
plunged to her navel, revealing most of her breast mass, includ-
ing an impressive display of 'undertit', the part of the abdomen
cast into two crescent shadows by the curve of her breasts.
Then Veronica and Sherrie fell to work on the hapless Missy. Her
long fine hair they teased into a great thick mop about her neck
and shoulders, anchoring it with beads and braids. Then they
traced her eyes with mascara and eye liner, filling in above the
eyelids with a pale green eye-shadow to match her eyes.
"Let's give her a real raunchy mouth!", Sherrie exclaimed, as she
dabbed on the lipstick. It was easy, as Missy's mouth was a lit-
tle wider and larger than average. By the time Sherrie added the
lip gloss, both the girls agreed that Missy had a perfect blow-
job mouth.
Being about the same height as Missy, but more finely built,
Veronica loaned her a pair of jeans. It took them a half-hour to
pour Missy into them, but the results were spectacular. Veroni-
ca's jeans followed every line of Missy's long, curvaceous legs.
The jeans were so tight, that Sherrie and Veronica had forced
Missy to strip off her panties, and the bulge of her mons Venus
and the labiae of her cuntal regions were clearly visible through
the thick fabric of the jeans.
When it came time to display Missy's ample breasts, the girls
were flummoxed. Nothing Missy had was whoreish enough for their
purposes, and nothing Sherrie or Veronica had would accommodate
Missy's abundance. Sherrie dug a sequined bustier out of the
bottom of her suitcase.
"This belongs to my sister Mary Lou", she explained. "I borrowed
it just in case. She's pretty big on top. See if it fits you,
Missy."
Missy pulled the bustier around her chest, astounded at the ca-
pacity of the cups. "Your sister must be huge, Sherry", she ex-
claimed, "I'm flopping around inside like I didn't have any tits
at all!"
"Mary Lou's big, all right", Sherrie answered, "biggest girl I
know. We'll just have to pad you out with some good old toilet
paper. To your credit, though, you do a better job of filling
Mary Lou's lingerie than most girls, and I bet you're still grow-
ing." She turned to Veronica and laughed. "Hell, Ronnie, you or
me, we'd need a whole roll of T-P to fill that thing out!"
They got Missy padded and zipped into the bustier, then stood
back to admire their handiwork in the full length mirror. Three
street-walkers stared back at them. The contrast between Missy's
busty Nordic beauty, Veronica's leggy African features, and
Sherrie's vigorous cinnamon-and-clove athleticism was striking.
"Hey!", shouted Veronica, "We hot as shit! Too bad they ain't no
fellows within twenty miles a this place."
They fell onto the beds laughing. Sherrie poured the last of the
rum into their cups, and the three girls sat back and drank.
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