Bidby Hills Trailer Estate Ch. 02

"Christ girl, you look a fuckin' mess!" Darla exclaimed with characteristic understatement as I stumbled up to her AstroTurf garden. She was tending to the plastic roses that were planted along the side of her trailer, but stood quickly as I approached, a horrified expression on her face.

I nodded in agreement, slouched forward, broiled and exhausted from my long walk in the sun. By now it was past six, but I was still baking. I felt like shit and probably looked ten times worse. My chest was damp with sweat and Gene's cum - some of which I was sure was in my hair - and my shirt, it turned out, had lost its pocket and ripped at the shoulder when Gene tore it off.

What's more, I hadn't been able to find my Goddamn panties in that filthy mess of a trailer, and my jean shorts were starting to chafe, although I wasn't sure if that was because of my own wetness or perspiration.

My mother's admonitions came flooding back, for once sounding hopeful rather than scornful. There was no way I could do worse than at that moment. I'd hit rock bottom. Textbook fucking trailer trash whore.

"In, in," she gestured hastily, holding open the screen door. Darla's trailer was a deluxe model, and the air-conditioning was immediate bliss. I staggered in, head swimming, heading directly for the couch where I half stumbled, half collapsed delightedly along its length, my sweaty hair slapping the cushion as the abrupt motion sent my boobs into wobbly orbits. I slowed them to a stop and sighed.

The brunette divorcee stood over me as I looked up from where I lay. She lurched from side to side along with everything else in the room and absentmindedly wiped soiled hands on her jean shorts. "What the heck is goin' on with you, hon?"

She looked me over, eyes instantly settling on my chest. She gasped and pointed. "And when did you get them big titties?! Did Tairy finally buy them for you?"

"No," I said, exasperated. "They just grew. Just this afternoon."

"Girl, I think you got too much sun out there. Silicon don't just grow."

"Darla, they did!"

"Now just you lay right back an' take it easy," Darla mumbled, feeling my forehead. "You feel hot 'nough to burst into flames! Just stay there an' I'll be right back."

I closed my eyes, sinking dizzily back into the sofa, and heard her walk away. My head was spinning wildly. My mind was on the Ferris wheel this time, except the thing was turning at about a hundred mile an hour. Along for the ride was my stomach, pitching about with gleeful abandon and little regard for my well-being. I squeezed my eyes tighter shut and groaned.

Suddenly, I felt something cool and damp across my forehead and tried to open my eyes. The light was blinding, sending the Ferris wheel careering about in all directions, spinning wildly and impossibly on its axis and I closed my eyes, trying desperately to slow it down.

"Just me," Darla murmured softly. "I brought you a cold flannel and some water." She held the glass against my lips and propped me up with her hand on the back of my neck. I drank timidly.

"Here." Darla popped a couple of Aspirin into my mouth and tipped the glass upward. I swallowed the tablets gratefully, the cool liquid seeming to calm my stomach more with each sip.

"Thanks Darla," I whispered weakly as she guided my head back to the pillow.

"Just you relax there, Mary Beth," I heard her far away voice say as I fell into an exhausted sleep.

***

"Hey, time to wake up, sleepy-head!"

I cautiously peeled one eye open, then the other, mindful of the way the light had stung earlier. Darla stood in the kitchen, apron on, two plates in her hands, the smell of eggs and bacon filling the trailer. I was on my back on the couch, under a flowery duvet, which tented upward at my chest. I was also naked.

"What time is it, Darla?" I asked.

"Ten o'clock in the mornin'," she answered. "You slept right on through. I didn't even watch my shows last night for fear of wakin' you, but you slept like a log. I even stripped you down without you wakin' up."

I laughed weakly and slowly sat up, still dizzy. Rubbing my eyes I realized that meant I had spent a whole extra night in Bidby Hills. "Fuck," I mumbled in frustration.

I wrapped the duvet around myself, finding it barely covered the tops of my thighs. Tucking it into my cleavage, and tried to stand but only found myself back on my ass - an ass which felt more...there than normal. I turned and looked down at it.

There was a hell of a lot more there than normal. My butt, previously neat and perky, was now hefty and curvaceous. My thighs had grown too: thin and athletic to one step short of chubby. This was getting ridiculous.

"My fuckin' ass grew!" I spat.

Darla stepped out from the kitchen to inspect my stacked backside from all angles. "Well, it does look a bit bigger'n usual," she conceded. I had finally made it to my feet, although I still felt unsteady, leading Darla to slip her arm around me to stop my teetering.

"A bit?!" I squealed.

"Fine, a lot. Did you get some of them Kardashian ass implants when Tairy bought you them big titties?"

"Darla, I told you, they grew! It all grew! Everything grew!"

"Maybe you better lie down again, hon."

"No!" I said firmly, taking a swaying step forward. "I don't need to lie down, I need to find out what the heck is goin' on."

Darla guided me to a seat in the kitchen. I fell into it, my ass hanging from the sides and squeezing through the slats at the back of the chair. I looked down at the floor dejectedly.

Then I remembered something. "The anklet!" I exclaimed, snapping back up to face Darla, boobs wobbling lewdly with the sudden movement.

"The anklet?" Darla repeatedly quizzically, her mouth full.

"The anklet! It was fuckin' hurting when I drove out the gate yesterday. Tairy gave it to me years ago - won it in some poker game at Jimmy's place."

Darla stood, shoveling another mouthful in as she bent forward to look at it. "Why don't you just take it off, if you reckonin' it's makin' you grow?" she asked.

"I tried. There's no clasp, and it's too strong to break."

Fingering one of the charms - an improbably voluptuous female silhouette - Darla bit her lip. "I reckon we could maybe file the bastard off."

"Darla, that's a great idea!" I exclaimed excitedly. This could really work!

Scrambling to her feet, Darla lead me to her bedroom and sat me down on the bed. I crossed my legs and tried to tug the duvet even a little way down my thighs. Darla was hunting through her bedside table for her file, and finally beamed at me, holding it up triumphantly.

"Okay, do it, do it!" I yelled impatiently.

"Just hold on, hon," Darla replied, her tongue jammed out of the side of her mouth as she went to work on the anklet. After two minutes of sawing away, we realized it was getting us nowhere. The file hadn't even left an impression.

"Fuck it!" I shouted, stamping my foot down, which just set my tits jiggling again.

Darla sat back on the carpet with a sigh. "Well, we could...oh, jeez. I dunno, Mary Beth!" She cried. "I ain't never seen anythin' like this happen before in my whole damn life."

"Me neither," I mumbled glumly.

We sat in silence for some minutes before I spoke again. "Shoot, I gotta do somethin', Darla. I can't just stay here sittin' on your bed forever feelin' sorry for myself."

She nodded her agreement, clearly avoiding speaking because she was on the verge of tears.

"Oh now, don't you start cryin' on me, Darla Jean," I told her, standing up. "I'm gonna get through this. I'll go see Jimmy - ask him if he knows where this anklet came from. Maybe he's got some bolt cutters I can borrow."

"Okay." Darla sniffled her way to her feet. "You can't go out wearin' my duvet though."

"Oh." I hadn't thought of what I would wear.

"Come on hon, I bet I got somethin' that'll fit."

Darla pulled open the doors of her wardrobes, both packed with a rainbow of different clothes on hangers, as well as in heaving piles at the bottom. "Let's see," she said, riffling through hastily, pulling out items here and there and throwing them onto the bed.

Eventually she stopped, and turned to face me. "Well, that's what I'm figurin' is gonna fit you."

I sat back down and started sorting through, putting aside a few of her fat ex-husband's shirts as possibilities. I tried on a couple of skirts, but it was apparent Darla had never come close to being as voluptuous as I now was.

"Sweats?" Darla suggested.

"Darla, I'm goin' to see the owner of the park - I can't wear no damn sweat pants!"

She nodded glumly.

"There's gotta be somethin' I can wear."

Darla thought for a moment. "Well, maybe." She reached for a cardboard box on top of the wardrobes and dragged it down to her bed. "Now. Don't you go tellin' no one 'bout this, Mary Beth, okay?" She held the lid on tightly, staring at me.

"Okay," I agreed.

Opening the box, she held up a loop of hot pink spandex. "This is from when I used to do strippin'," Darla explained. "I reckon it should stretch enough." She tugged on the flimsy material to demonstrate.

"Darla, you never told me you was a stripper."

"I don't need you tellin' others neither. Ev'one already thinks bad 'nough of me round here. An' don't you dare tell Jimmy you seen me here when you see him," Darla ordered suddenly. "I'm four weeks late on my damn rent an' I don't need him bustin' my ass about it."

"Okay. Thanks Darla." I leaned over and hugged her, feeling her try to glance down at the weight of my massive chest pushed against hers.

"Fuckin' big titties." Darla shook her head in disbelief as I straightened up.

"Just show me your damn stripper gear."

Half an hour later, I was dressed and ready. Even amongst the spandex I had only found a couple of things that fit, and had to settle for a hot pink boob tube and a black micro-skirt. Darla had laughed as she found herself having to explain which tiny loop of material went where. I was covered, but barely - the boob tube was pulled so tight it was partially transparent, and seeing as Darla had no bra even vaguely within my cup size my nipples stood out proud and obvious.

The tiny skirt only just reached the bottom of my ass cheeks and sprung up at the slightest movement, forcing me to hold it down every time I made even a gesture and to make matters worse, the width of my hips had made it impossible to borrow a pair of panties. At least my feet were still the same size as Darla's, allowing me to wear heels to match my top and white knee-high spandex stockings.

"I look like a whore," I moaned.

"Least you don't look like no naked whore," Darla pointed out. I had to concede that one.

"Come on, sit down." She motioned at her dressing table. "I'm gonna fix you up before you leave."

Darla thoroughly scrubbed away the smudged remnants of the previous day's makeup, then turned her attentions to removing as much of Gene's dried cum as possible from my tits.

"I ain't even gonna ask."

I shivered with delight as she drew the damp cotton swab over my skin again and again. When she exposed my nipples to clean them too, I almost came. Fortunately I managed to hold it off, crossing my legs tightly and hoping to high hell my pussy wasn't dribbling all over her chair.

Pulling open a drawer, she held up tube after tube of lipstick to my top, eventually finding an acceptable shade of hot pink which she gleefully layered on. "You didn't get no collagen too, did you?" Darla asked, peering at my lips. I kept them stubbornly pursed.

The drawer provided a matching shade of eye shadow, and after applying heavy eye liner, lip pencil and piling my blond hair up on my head, Darla stood back and admired her handiwork.

"I used to do makeup for th' other dancers."

"Obviously," I wanted to retort, but I held my tongue. She had taken me in, fed and clothed me, and I wasn't about to snap at her just out of frustration at not having climaxed. I stared at my reflection, tucking away a strand or two of hair back into the towering mass they had escaped. With my huge tits and stripper makeover, I looked like the lowest kind of trailer trash slut: the kind that waited until you left the park before jumping in to seduce your husband. Or even worse, didn't wait until you left. I'd come across one or two in my time.

I sighed and stood up, smoothing my skirt down as the mirror reflected my bare pussy flashing into view. "Well," I said. "Thanks Darla."

"Ain't nothin'."

She walked to the door and I toddled after her, unsteady on my first few steps in the new heels thanks to my still bubbling arousal. It wasn't helped by being unable to use my hands to steady me, busy as they were clasping down the black spandex barely covering my snatch. Darla reached the door first, holding it open patiently while I teetered towards her.

"Good luck," she whispered, giving me a hug and a kiss.

"Thanks."

"An' don't you tell Jimmy you seen me!" Darla yelled after me as I walked across her AstroTurf. It was only then I realized I hadn't even mentioned leaving Tairy.