Danielle Ch. 05

Danielle tugged at her shirt and bra, shifting her monumental bust for better comfort. How many times was that? Ten? No matter how she adjusted, whether she yanked a strap up or down her shoulders, or if she tried covering her cleavage, something else became uncomfortable. Not to mention how her parents hounded her to find something appropriate to wear. This was the largest size she owned.

"Could always wear a poncho?" Holly suggested.

"What about pants?" Danielle grimaced and tried gripping the jeans she wore. They were flush against her flesh, like textured paint or a second skin, and made her dread taking them off. Pulling them on was tiresome enough. The waist caught under the swells of her butt and, once she forced it over, sank into them like a knife through butter. If not for Holly's assistance, she might never have succeeded.

"Oh lord, I'm getting so fat," Danielle said.

"No you're not, silly!" Casey giggled and hugged her close. They were heading to P.E., one of the few classes they shared in the week, and were a point of interest for others in the halls. Danielle could guess why as she looked to her friend, who had marched deeper into the Bimbo lifestyle, and thus displayed the maximum amount of flesh. Without violating the dress code, of course. Though no one said anything about her.

Perhaps it was Holly? She was gorgeous that day, her ghostly skin highlighted by the crimson of her lipstick and thick eyelashes, while wearing a red shirt and black yoga pants. A flower came to mind, with a stem blossoming into dual-toned leaves, equipped with a pair of plump, comfortable breasts that Danielle had rested on many times. Unlike her, Casey arched her back to show off the proudly fake set she owned. Shame didn't fit in with a Bimbo's mindset.

"I am," Danielle pinched her breast, wincing both in pain and the sudden eruption of pleasure, which soared straight to her crotch, and the other reason her jeans were at their limits.

"Even so, it's not a bad thing," Holly said and hooked her arm around Danielle's, "It's makes you all the cuddlier." She nuzzled into the futa's shoulder, inhaling the 'perfume' she swore Danielle kept secret from her. There was no secret. Danielle didn't wear perfume beyond her body wash, which had no discernible scent in itself. Her parents didn't believe in using odours to attract people, though makeup was fair game.

"Hey! No fair, don't snuggle up to her when I'm not looking," Casey pouted and copied her friend, turned rival.

"There's plenty to go around," Danielle chuckled. That didn't placate them. She remained crushed between the pair, their shoulders digging into her breasts and straining her shirt further. A slight rip caught her attention, "Guys, uh, my shirts not gonna last if you keep it up."

"Sorry," Holly said and let go, while Casey lingered for a moment, then followed suite.

"Sorry," Casey repeated.

"It's fine. I've gotta go shopping again anyway. Nothing else fits," Danielle said and sighed. Yet another small fortune would be lost, and another if her body didn't hurry up and settle down. The trio arrived in the locker rooms. Others were already there, chatting as they stripped or pulled on their gym uniforms. The school offered a pair of baggy shorts or tracksuit pants, and a tight shirt. When swimming, the only option was a one-piece swimsuit that hugged the female form like liquid.

Danielle sat on a familiar bench, where a faint stain extended before it. She glanced to Holly, who returned an intimate grin and wink. That hadn't been the last time they'd 'met' in the lockers. Holly stayed after dance practice until everyone else had left, then she and Danielle would repeat their first time. It was better every time, or so Holly claimed. The act had more appeal now than it did before, so perhaps Danielle was getting better at it, or something else was influencing her. Was it love?

Maybe. The prospect hadn't been lost on her, not since she and Holly started going on regular dates. Casey's inclusion in the mix had changed things, but she enjoyed it. Both offered different joys in life. Holly would cry at the sappiest romance movie, while Casey gushed about shows and books that Danielle hadn't heard of. And sex had subtle changes between them.

Could she love them both? A silly question. She already did. Dozens of people talked with her, invited her to parties or offered help for various things, but none were like those two. Her life would be worse without them. Who knew what might've happened if Holly hadn't steered her away from certain people? Drugs? Alcohol? She didn't, or want to, know.

"Oh no," Danielle said after pulling out her gym shirt. She'd forgotten to get a new one.

"It's okay," Holly said and wandered to the 'lost and found' basket, "Someone should've left a larger size around. I think Sarah Mason threw hers away last week, and she's gotta be bigger than you."

"Or just go without," Casey said with a suggestive wriggle of her brows. Danielle rolled her eyes. She'd tried running without a shirt on; her breasts bounced free and slapped her face, which led to a peculiar erection.

"Here we are!" Holly announced and pulled out a massive shirt, at least when compared to her sleek shoulders, "Should fit those mountains."

"Mountains? Oh," Danielle chuckled as she glanced to her chest. They were, indeed, the size of mountains. A pair of monumental bowls of pudding splayed across her torso, barely contained in her bra. She adjusted the straps again. It did nothing to stop the cups digging into her pliant flesh, but offered better support at least. She took the shirt. No sweat stains that she could see, and it didn't stink. Better than she could have hope for.

She pulled it on and, though it struggled around her boobs, it managed to meet the waistband of her jeans. Now the real challenge presented itself. First, she had to get her jeans off without tearing them, next she would need a new pair of shorts that fit her. Her parents rarely, if ever, allowed her to wear skirts or shorts, at least not ones that ended above the knee, so she relished the chance. That said, her current pair would be no match for the triple-threat of her hips, butt and penis.

"Here," Holly handed her a pair, "Figured you need them."

"Thanks," Danielle took the pair and stood. Most people were already changed, but some seemed to have trouble figuring their own clothes out, as they lingered around, half-dressed. They might be staring at Danielle, but something else always seemed to occupy them when she checked. It wasn't until she had yanked her jeans off that she caught their gawking faces.

Was she that fat? She didn't exercise, beyond her games with Holly, Casey and the occasional stranger. Her arms were soft, belly too, as were her legs and face. She hadn't even lost her baby fat yet. Or was it that her growth spurt was so abnormal? It didn't take longer than a glimpse to ascertain that she was, without much doubt, the most endowed person there. And the only futa, though most didn't know of that. They thought she was shemale like Casey.

That, itself, was uncommon. She looked to her friend, who was busy making sure her clothes flaunted her body to its peak, and wondered if this was how she felt. Danielle pulled the pair on, grunting when they snagged on her phallus. They fit well enough, better than her jeans by a bit, and were loose enough that it didn't feel as if her member was being suffocated.

Which brought its own problem. Each step let it bounce around, shifting in tandem to her obtuse thighs. This class would be a nightmare. Or worse, she thought as she stepped onto the field with the others. Most, if not all, eyes were on her.

Standing there, amongst a row of 'normal' women her age, she realised how insane her growth spurts were becoming. Where one girl had breasts maybe the size of honeydew melons, large but not meddlesome, Danielle had a pair larger than her own head. And another girl had hips to make a mother proud, yet she was smaller than Danielle. Perhaps two or three others had curves even close to hers, and one was Casey with her implants.

They must exercise. Danielle frowned at the grass, as if it were responsible for the vast difference between herself and the rest. She didn't hate her body. Or not to the extent that Casey did. She just wished it wasn't so huge all over, that she didn't have a dozen or two people gawking at her at that moment. It made her feel tight, constricted, as though their eyes were ropes coiled around her. She needed to work out, that'd fix everything.

The perfect guide stood not far from her, in fact. It was Danielle's turn to gawk. The girl, whose name she swore was on the tip of her tongue, had a physique opposite her own. Compact boobs and hips, by comparison to herself - to others, they were still admirable - but her arms showed off muscle, her stomach was laid with abs, and her thighs were firm. Power and confidence radiated from her.

"Excuse me?" Danielle asked once the nightmare was over and they were back in the locker room. The muscular girl looked up and away once she came face to cleavage.

"Yeah?"

"I was wondering if you could give me some help?"

"Uh, yeah. Sure. What kind?"

"The muscle kind," Danielle said.

"Oh, no problem. I'm actually a junior trainer. I'm Megan. You're Danielle, right?" Megan extended a hand. The shake was firm, as expected with her arms like that.

"Yeah, nice to meet you," Danielle said.

"If you'd like, we can meet at my usual gym and I'll take you through some things. Say, Saturday at about ten... ish?"

"Sure. That sounds great."

"Cool. I'll fill you in on things later," Megan said and left. She looked back to give a lingering wave.

Over the week, Megan gave Danielle all the details she'd need. The gym was called Ex Fit, short for 'exceptional fitness', and was a short bus ride away from Danielle's street. She also gave her some tips for dieting, which proved heart-breaking when she came home and had to decline her neighbour's fresh-made cookies. They also made plans to get Danielle some fitness gear, and new clothes on Friday, so she had a chance to break them in beforehand.

"Okay, that should be everything," Megan said, checking through a list on her phone, "Shoes, shirts, bras, XXXXXL jockstrap... yep, should be about right."

"My dad's gonna kill me," Danielle said from behind the tower of clothing, capped by a pair of sneakers.

"It's a parent's job to make sure their kid is happy with themselves," Megan said.

"Yeah, guess so," Danielle shrugged. The clothes were tight, or 'aerodynamic' as Megan had described them, so they clung to her body and highlighted every curve, even the part of her that shouldn't be highlighted. Her parents would disapprove. Or perhaps, since she intended to reduce the impact of her body, they might show the opposite. Doubtful. Strictness ran deep in her dad, and her mom shadowed him.

"Hey, do you mind if I stop off in here?" Danielle asked, nodding to the same clothes store she'd gone to the last two times. It seemed capable of supplying her needs, and she wouldn't mind trying something loose and frilly for once.

"I thought you were on a budget?" Megan asked. She was and wasn't. Her dad just told her to fix her wardrobe and handed over his credit card with a warning glance. So long as she turned up with something nice and conservative, he should be fine. And she didn't have Holly or Casey to try and tempt her with their styles. What she wanted, she could get.

They entered and Danielle latched onto a familiar sight; Joan, who beamed as she approached. Megan left to peruse the sports section. A one-track mind.

"Remember me?" She asked.

"Of course, my favourite customer," Joan said and gave her a once-over, "Jesus..." she cleared her throat, "So, a new wardrobe then?"

"Yeah," Danielle sighed, "Could you help me pick out some things? They can't be too revealing. Dad's kind of strict about it." Joan nodded and separated.

They regrouped at the changing room, each carrying a large pile of clothes. Some were suitable to Danielle's needs, others were too tempting not to at least try, and a few were at Joan's insistent sales pitches. She almost looked desperate at times, a look that returned as she set the piles down.

"You'll, uh, need another measurement, I assume?"

"Hmm, yes. I think so. Almost forgot about getting some bras. Go ahead," Danielle said and stripped off her top half. She stretched back to unclasp the hooks, arching her spine and pronouncing her bosom. Once the straps were down and hooks released, the undergarment snapped free and fell. Her breasts danced against her stomach, jiggling in their joy. A gale of relief left her lips.

"Oooh, that was tight," Danielle groaned and rolled her shoulders, setting her boobs off once more. She cupped them, feeling the weight as they overflowed her hands, each massive enough to require both if she wanted proper containment. It was strange to hold them compared to Casey's or Holly's. Casey was obvious, being fake. While Holly's were natural, they had slight differentials to Danielle's; a sharper dip toward the nipple, a thinner curve along the base. Were those variances the reason people kept complimenting and staring at her?

"Fuck, they're beautiful," Joan said. Danielle looked up from her chest and saw the employee in the mirror, lips parted, cheeks flushed and eyes adhered to her reflection. It was that same look she saw on people almost everywhere she went, often before they wanted to play. She almost asked if Joan was horny, then thought better of it. Casey had told her not to outright ask.

"Sorry," Joan caught herself and assumed a professional manner as she unfurled her measuring tape, "Won't take long."

"Okay," Danielle said and raised her arms. The tape coiled around and compressed her chest, obscuring her nipples from view. She clenched her jaw, worried to let a moan slip out. Every day made it worse. Fondling herself was, at first, a pleasant experience. Not the kind that would distract her, but enough that she enjoyed it when her friends played with them. As they burgeoned, however, the sensations got better. Which made them worse.

Peculiar heat wormed its way down her chest and stomach to pool in her groin. She shifted her thighs apart at the sudden warmth in her vagina, hoping to give it some relief, though her sweatpants made that impossible. The garment kept all the warmth trapped, creating a sauna. Sweat dampened her panties. Her face had flushed a dull red.

"Are you okay?" Joan asked.

"Yeah... yeah, I'm fine," Danielle said, unsure of what else she should say. It shouldn't take much longer, then she could get out from these clothes and let her body cool off. Joan was close now, her nose almost touching Danielle's bosom as she inspected the number. By the look on her face, it was impressive.

"Talk about a growth spurt. You're up another cup size already," Joan noted, though she didn't release the tape and step back for a moment longer, "I'm not sure we even have something that big. Let's measure your hips, just in case."

"Sure," Danielle nodded. Joan, then, sank deep on her haunches and set the tape down. She came to face Danielle's member, a fact that kept her frozen it seemed, as she merely breathed and stared. Whatever spell cast over her didn't break as she blindly reached up and pulled the pants down, almost peeling them from Danielle's flushed skin. A layer of sweat glistened over her thighs as, inch by inch, they were revealed and with them, her penis came into the open.

"Stunning. Absolutely gorgeous," Joan whispered. A sharp inhale was followed by a gentle touch.

"What're you doing?" Danielle jerked away.

"Come on," Joan said and stood. She latched onto Danielle's wrists and pushed her into a wall, then pressed their bodies together. A gasp escaped the futa, "I want this. You definitely want this. You've teased me long enough. Time to drop the goody-goody act."

"What act?" Danielle panted, staring at the woman's eyes. Kindness had been replaced by something she recognised, though it was twisted.

"Feel it," Joan hissed and shoved Danielle's hand down into the crotch of her panties, where the fingers were met by sweltering, dripping wet flesh, "That's what you do to me."

"I'm sorry?" Danielle said. Something about this didn't make her horny, not like the other times. Those people weren't this forceful, or crazed. They talked to her first, made her like them, and inspired some form of response. This was unpleasant and sudden, like a switch had gone off.

"I'll accept it once you fuck me," Joan said and kissed her. No affection or build-up. Her mouth was wide by the time it connected with Danielle's lips. Her tongue forced its way inside. This wasn't right. Sex was something fun, between friends. They didn't do this to each other.

"Get off!" Danielle shoved her away, knocking Joan to the floor. A moment later and Megan rushed in, saw the state of Danielle, then stepped between her and Joan.

"Out. Now." It didn't need repeating. Her muscles were tensed and voice layered with power, which her body backed up with a simple flex. Danielle left the clothes and walked with her from the store. They stopped at a little café, warm and cosy.

"What happened?" Megan asked.

"I don't know."

"Did she try to rape you?"

"Rape?"

"Huh, so the rumours are true? You're about as sheltered as can be," Megan said with a soft chuckle, "It's okay. You'd know what I meant if it happened."

"Okay," Danielle nodded. A pair of drinks were set before them, despite not having ordered. She looked up and caught a wink from the waitress. Her eyes were like Joan's, but softer. Even so, Danielle shoved her head down and sank into the booth. The server looked at Megan.

"Bad day," Megan said. Something in her voice implied more.

"Ah, sorry. Drinks are on me," the waitress said and left.

"Do you still want to meet tomorrow? I mean, this sort of thing is something you should probably take a bit and process."

"No, it's... I'm fine. Just a little shocked is all," Danielle said and grinned, "Thanks for helping."

"Not a problem," Megan leaned back, at ease and sure of herself. Where did that confidence come from? Danielle hadn't felt uncertain of much in the past, confused by certain events of course, though doubt remained clear. People liked her, so she liked them, and most things were natural for her. Like performing well in her studies and athletics, until puberty that is, so she had no reason to.

Now, however, it permeated her thoughts. Did people only like her because she looked the way she did? Why were Holly and Casey so enamoured with her? What made Joan become like that?

It made her stomach roll. The drink before her, a warm mug of either coffee or hot chocolate, swirled and steamed, exactly as she imagined her mind was doing. Danielle held it in her hands. The heat was there, but a dull affair against the fire she'd glimpsed earlier. If Joan had gone about it differently, Danielle wouldn't have minded. A quick game of sex might've been a relief for the moment. Now the thought churned her stomach.

Not with revulsion. This was... new? No. But it wasn't as familiar. It was stronger than most. Anger? Flashes of red and violence, shouting and throwing tantrums burst through her mind. Yes. It was anger. At what? She imagined everything that had happened. Joan didn't make the emotion burn, nor did Megan helping her, that inspired something close to disgust - jealousy? That left herself. She was weak, helpless to refuse. Even if Joan had given her a chance to talk beyond a few words, she doubted she would've forced her off until that boiling point.

She hated it.

Danielle blinked at the murky, aromatic liquid before her. When was the last time she hated something? She certainly didn't like things, such as sour foods or overly sappy romances, which left a flavour like the former in her mouth, and puzzle games were frustrating at the best of times. The first thing she recognised that she hated, was herself...