Chapter 1

DEL AND SHEL Murchison were twins. They were born in that order, Adele seven minutes before Rochelle. Adele never let her sister forget it, either, even as they were growing up identically, with identical long dark - almost black - hair, dressed in identical dresses, or identical jeans and T-shirts, with identical shoes or sandals.

Everybody said how identical - and how beautiful - they were. They probably meant how beautifully dressed. The girls were certainly identical, but beauty wasn't really an appropriate word. Their looks were striking rather than beautiful, their mouths a little too wide, their noses slightly too Roman, their eyes just a bit too close-set. It didn't matter, the twins were so lively, so vivacious, no one really remarked on their looks. Not often. Anyway, opinion had it, they were young; they would grow into their looks later.

And it started happening, as these things do. As they approached their tenth birthday, the twins were experiencing a growth spurt. In a matter of weeks, they had grown out of all their jeans and shoes. Twice. They were suddenly and dramatically six inches taller. They had legs right down to the ground and right up to their armpits. They looked like a pair of young racehorses, striding leggily around in the slightly ungainly fashion of colts.

They were taking after their parents in that respect. Their mother was almost six feet tall, their father and elder brother were six feet three. The twins were beginning to resemble their mother in another way, too. She was a statuesque woman with broad hips, powerful thighs and a notably prominent bosom. Although Del and Shel didn't yet have the bosom, they were very quickly getting the family backside.

"You'll have bosoms soon enough, girls," Mrs Murchison reassured them one day when the girls expressed dissatisfaction with the way things were going. "You're only just ten."

"We're only just ten," Shel agreed, "so why have we got the biggest bottoms in the whole school?"

"Speak for yourself, little sis," said Del. "You have the biggest bottom in the whole school."

"It's only that much bigger," Shel held her fingers a couple of inches apart.

"How do you know?" The twins' mother was aghast.

"We measured each other with your tape measure," said Del.

"And you cheated," muttered Shel.

"Now, that's enough, both of you! You're both taller than the other girls in your class, so it's only right and proper that you should have the biggest bottoms."

"And the longest legs?" said Shel. "Why couldn't some of this growth have gone to our chests? The other girls in our class have got busts already."

"Not all of them, dear," said Mrs Murchison firmly.

"Two of them have," insisted Del, exaggerating only slightly. By a factor of 100%, in fact. One other girl in the twins' class did have a bosom worthy of note. A dozen or so of the others had little bee-stings in their blouses, but Emily Thorpe was spectacular by any standard. She had shown the label of her bra to anyone in the class who was interested. 34DD, it said. Nobody knew quite what it meant, but it sounded mighty impressive. As, for that matter, was Emily. Her tits stuck out about a mile and a half in front of her. She bumped into things. They knocked books off desks. No doubt she would get used to them in time.

Del and Shel wanted some. Not necessarily as big as Emily's - the twins were well brought-up and not greedy - just as long as they were big ones. And preferably within the next few weeks.

Their mother hugged her big-bottomed girls to her. "You'll get breasts, don't worry!" The girls squirmed and blushed at the word. "You'll just have to ask God to send you some, won't you?"

"And He will?"

"Did you pray for yours, Mummy?"

"Of course. All little girls do."

Emily Thorpe must have prayed really hard, the twins thought. Well, if that was all they had to do, they would do it. Being nicely brought-up children, they knelt by their beds and asked God to send them some really big titties. Or boobs. They didn't want to use the word breasts in case God got embarrassed.

And lo, the Lord heard their prayers. Perhaps it was because they were identical twins and their prayers were thus twice as powerful as all the other little girls praying for bosoms. Whatever the reason, He heard, and He listened.

Okay, maybe He didn't listen hard enough. Perhaps He had other things on His mind. Being God is one Hell of a job, even when You are One in Three and Three in One. Anyway, He screwed up, bigtime. Okay, to be fair, maybe it was one of His angels who couldn't read the instructions. It was perhaps an unusual request: two identical sets of those DDs, please, like Emily Thorpe's. You know Emily Thorpe, Lord?

The Lord knew Emily Thorpe, all right. He had made her in His image, after all. Emily's dimensions were quite fresh in His mind. So was the total weight of her breast flesh. There had been a bit of a row about it, He remembered.

"What's all this, Lord?" It was one of the managing angels from Main Stores - Body Parts (Puberty) Division.

"All what, Gabriel?" saith the Lord, somewhat testily, for verily it had been a long day. All He needed right now was a militant angel shouting his mouth off.

"You've given one ten year-old girl ... Emily Thorpe... four girls' share of breast."

"So what? There's no Holy Law that says all girls have to have tits the same size."

"I know, but for Chrissakes, look! Four times as much as she ought to have! This you call fair? Gordon Bennett!"

"I didn't get where I am today by being fair, Gabriel. I've signed the requisition, just pick the parts and get them out, okay?"

And so it was done. Emily Thorpe's mother was bewildered. Emily was ecstatic.

But now, six weeks later, here was a repeat order for two identical sets, from the same school. "Sod this," snorted Gabriel, crashing away at the keys of his computer. "Who do they think I am, the Tit Fairy?" It had been bad enough issuing one huge set to this Thorpe girl, without this additional blow to his stock control. "They can have one set, and they can think themselves lucky they're getting that." He hit Enter, logged off and grabbed the phone to castigate the suppliers of pubic hair. That latest batch had been almost straight. He'd be able to use some of it in Japan, but only the black...

The order for the Murchison twins' tits was the last one to come down to the Puberty Warehouse that afternoon. "What the fuck's this, at four o' clock on a Friday?" demanded Barnett, the stacker truck driver, who already had his coat on, ready to leave. He snatched the requisition and ran a grimy finger down the list of items. "Breasts, female. Extra large. One pair." Despite his anxiety to get back to his cloud before it started raining for the weekend, the warehouseman was a conscientious angel. He checked the overall consignment weight as listed. It was a curiously high figure, even for a pair of extra large breasts. These things happened. Sometimes God got confused between pounds and kilograms. Better check it out with Gabriel, just to cover my ass. And he picked up the phone.

Busy.

"Shit! Fucking Gabriel chatting up his lady friend again. You can never get through to him." Barnett slammed down the phone and picked up the requisition form again. It was stamped URGENT across the top. Obviously a prayer request, with authority right from the Top. He hesitated for just a moment, then climbed aboard his stacker truck and whirred off between the racks.

Del awoke and scratched herself. It felt good, so she did it again. Shel was still asleep, snoring gently in the lower bunk. Saturday morning, no school! Del scratched her armpit, which had been getting rather hairy of late. It wasn't the only thing that was getting hairy, she thought, biting her lip and allowing a hand to stray in the general direction of the juncture of her robust thighs. That region was getting even hairier.

Down below, Shel stirred and mumbled something, and Del froze. She lay still for perhaps two or three minutes, then slowly moved her right hand again. The other hand came up automatically to her chest. Del wondered why it bothered, there was nothing there apart from a pair of nipples like a boy's.

She gasped and her eyes opened wide, staring rigidly at the ceiling. "It can't be! I must be still asleep and dreaming. That's what happens when you say your prayers at bedtime." Then her fingers unfroze themselves and moved across her chest. She rubbed at it. It was at that moment that Del realised that her chest wasn't 'it' any more. It was 'them!' She brought her right hand up, its other task forgotten. Her palms encircled and cupped her nipples. No doubt about it, they were decidedly puffy. And tingly. Almost an itch, although there was no apparent way of scratching it. Slowly, so as not to wake her sister, she sat up and swung her legs over the edge of the bed, then lowered herself to the floor. Gathering her nightie around her waist, she padded over to the dressing table ... and hoisted the nightie up to uncover whatever was underneath.

"Wow! It worked!" She was so excited, she didn't know what to do first. Wake Shel? No, not yet. She hurried away to the bathroom, sat down and inspected them closely. They weren't in the Emily Thorpe league yet by any means, but they were already capable of mounting a challenge to the rest of the girls in the class who had bosoms. They were almost flat, apart from the area surrounding the nipples, but the slight swellings covering her chest seemed to be as big as her hands with fingers spread right out. And those puffy bits in the middle were indescribable. They were shiny! And they squashed in when she pushed them flat against her body, but as soon as she let go, they sprang right back out again. She tried it again. It worked every time.

Del stood up, allowing the nightie to fall down and cover her again, then she stood sideways to the mirror, sticking out her chest and pulling the nightie tight with her hands round her waist. There they were! She tried another pose, one hip thrust out to the side, her hand behind her head. They were still there, in fact, they looked even bigger!

"Del? You in there?"

"Yeah. Hang on, can't you?"

"Quick!" said Shel. "I've got something to tell you."

Her too? Logical enough. After all, they had prayed at the same time. Del flushed the toilet and opened the door a crack.

"Let me in, I need a piss!"

Shel hurried in and sat down. She had been right, Del thought, as a gushing cascade flooded deafeningly into the toilet bowl. It seemed to go on for hours. "What did you want to tell me?" Del had to raise her voice to make herself heard. She stood with her legs crossed, suddenly desperately aware of her own need.

"In a minute. Let me finish this first." Relative silence fell for at least another thirty seconds, broken only by the mighty sound of waters. Eventually, Shel stood up and wiped herself. "Wow, I needed that!"

"Tell me about it." Del sat down in a hurry on the warm seat and dispensed a thunderous torrent of her own.

"I thought you'd just been," said Shel, surprised.

"I was doing something else. Not that!" Del reddened in embarrassment. "I was sitting there thinking. Anyway, what's this big secret of yours?"

"Back in the bedroom. Come on!"

They closed the bedroom door behind them. "Let's see them, then," said Del.

"See what?"

"Your ... what you were going to show me."

"I wasn't going to show you anything. I was going to tell you something. Something I thought about. You know tonight, when we say our prayers? Well, I thought of something. Do you think They would mind if we changed what we asked for. Instead of just ordinary DDs like Emily's, why don't we ask for something really big?" Shel peeled off her nightdress and strode around the bedroom looking for clean underwear.

Del gasped. Her sister was as flat-chested as ever. "It's too late," she blurted, without thinking.

"What's too late?" Shel found a pair of panties in her drawer and hauled out an enormous T-shirt.