Chapter 1

Saturday, 27^th August

Michael Cupps paid the taxi driver and humped his bags as far as the front gate. Home! Five weeks seemed a hell of a long time. Everything in the front garden was lush and overgrown; Ma would be glad to see him back, for sure. Not yet, though, the car was out; the ramshackle garage doors standing open. One of the door hinges had finally torn loose from the frail woodwork. The gate was stiff and creaked rustily as he pushed his way through with his two bags bulging with dirty washing.

It was going to be back to work with a vengeance for this last week before school started again after the long summer holidays. He dropped the bags on the front step and began fumbling for his door keys. Then he stopped looking as a thunderous noise came from with the house. One of his sisters was coming downstairs. Why did they always sound as if they were coming downstairs on horseback?

The front door flew open.

"Mick-eeeeeee!" A small lightweight tornado attached itself to him, arms around his neck, strong thighs wrapped round his waist, pouring wet kisses all over his face. Almost sisterly kisses.

"Zelda! You'll suffocate me! Please!"

The girl pulled away at last, laughing as she leaned back in her brother's arms. "Hi, Micky!" Then she started with the kissing all over again. It was like coming home to an over-affectionate puppy. God alone knew what his younger sister would be like when he joined the Navy and went away for six months at a time.

With difficulty, he prised her lips away from his face and cupped her taut bottom through her brief shorts. "Hey, whyn't ya get down and let me have a real look at you?"

"Oh, Micky! It feels so good hugging you..." But she wriggled free and scrambled down. "Look at me," she giggled. "Whaddya think?" She performed a brief twirl before coming to rest, twisting her shoulders slightly from side to side. She had clearly been practising the movement in front of a mirror. And movement was the word!

"Wow! Who's a big girl all of a sudden?"

"Like the sweat-shirt, Micky? Dolly gave it to me. It doesn't fit her any more. And look... !" She hoisted the front of the sweat-shirt like a female flasher. "I wear a bra now. A real bra! Not a trainer like Jilly used to wear when she first started growing."

The sight was unnerving. Micky reached out and pulled his sister's shirt back into place. She pouted. "Don't you want to see my bra?"

"Not just now, Zed! There'll be plenty of time. I just got home." He picked up his bags and followed the girl's wiggly butt through into the cool of the kitchen. "Where's Ma?"

"Shopping. She just got paid. She's taken the others with her. She let me wait here for you. We'll have a special dinner tonight. And it's Saturday!"

"I'd noticed. Of course it's Saturday."

"Not just any Saturday, though! It's special!"

Infuriating child. What was special about it? "There's nothing special about me coming home, Zed..."

"I know. Well, there is, but it isn't that. This is a special Saturday. It's the one before our ... before our ... you know! When we ... you know!"

Daylight dawned. "It's this weekend? When was the last time?"

"We missed one, the week after you went away. And Dolly ... she's missed two anyway. Hey! You don't know, do you! Dolly's going to have a baby!"

"Dolly? Pregnant? When? How... ?"

"How? Micky! How do you think?" The girl went quiet, blushing at her own forwardness.

"Okay, I know how. What did Ma say? Did she get mad?"

"Not really mad, no." Zelda sounded disappointed. "She said she hopes it's a boy. She says she's got enough of a house full of girls already. I don't care what she has. As long as we have a baby to play with."

Micky snorted. Another mouth to feed. And all those baby clothes and stuff cost money. Young Dolores was so careless. It wasn't as if anyone could stop her being sexually active. All the girls were extremely keen on sex, with the exception of young Zelda - and she wouldn't be long, the way she was shaping up. There was no shortage of opportunity. Girls built like the Cupps family tended to attract boys.

Micky emptied his washing into the basket. His bags were much more manageable now. He picked them up. "I'm going to have a shower, Zed. It's been a hot journey."

Zelda wrinkled her nose. "I'd noticed," she said, waving a hand in front of her face. She followed him out of the kitchen and up the stairs. "Were there many girls there?" she asked breathlessly. "Did you get a chance to do it?"

"Zed! You're getting as bad as all your sisters!"

"Am I?" she gasped proudly. "Wow!" She caught sight of the mirror in Mickey's bedroom, and immediately started posing, one hip thrust out at an angle, breathing deeply to expand her very noticeable young chest. "I'm going to be as big as them, too. Quite soon, I think. Were the others as young as me when they started developing boobs?"

"No, Zed," Micky sighed. It was patently true, so there was no point in denying it. The girl beamed with delight and bounced up and down, still watching herself in the mirror. She jiggled. He began to shepherd her out of the room. "Come on, Pooch. We'll have a long talk later, okay?"

Her eyes were like saucers. "You promise? You won't forget? And later on, when Ma goes out to the social, we'll do it? Making up for what we missed?"

He grinned wearily. "Okay, little sister. Later."

Mrs Cupps had every reason for wanting a boy next time, even though she was delegating the task of carrying it around for nine months to her second eldest daughter. One strapping and healthy teenage son followed by four extremely nubile daughters had given her a major headache. The late Mr Cupps had become 'late' in the very act of fathering the youngest girl, suffering a heart attack immediately after the event. As he was in the habit of rolling over and going to sleep immediately afterwards, Mrs Cupps might not even have noticed until the following morning, when her husband was in the habit of climbing aboard for a pre-breakfast quickie. On this occasion, however, he forgot to turn the bedside light off, and as the switch was on his side, Mrs Cupps had to clamber over her husband's prone form. That was when she became aware of his premature demise. It cost her a night's sleep.

'Never again, ' she swore, when the child was born, yet another girl. She named it Zelda, as a form of punctuation. The older girls weren't really old enough to remember much of their father. He was a shadowy memory even for Michael, to whom fell at least some of the duties of being a father to the girls. He was a year older than Jilly, Dolores was eighteen months younger than her, then it was another two years to Kitty, and finally, Zelda came along almost two years later. It wasn't family planning as such; just that every time Mrs Cupps thought her family was nicely complete, whaddya know? Another one.

Jilly had been the first one to take after her mother in the most obvious and visible way. Mrs Cupps was perhaps best described as incredibly stacked. In fact, the word around the community was that with a name like Cupps she was probably a retired exotic dancer, and you knew what they were like. Certainly, opinion had it that her tits could surely not be real. Only when young Jilly started sprouting a pair of beauties of her very own did people begin to realise that Mrs Cupps was the way nature intended her.

Nature had very similar plans for the other daughters, too. If Jilly had been a slightly late developer, not displaying her secondary sexual characteristics until she had passed into her teens, Dolly and Kitty waited no more than a year before they began a private race to outgrow their older sister. There was even an almost magical moment at which all three sisters were almost identically developed. Jilly was then seventeen, Dolly fifteen and a half and Kitty two years younger. They were all brimming out of a D cup at the same time. Since then, they had all gone on to greater things.

Michael was intimately acquainted with the growth of his sisters. Their almost friendly rivalry led to a constant need to check on their individual progress, and Micky was roped in as referee and judge of fact. He quickly developed a most unusual skill for a teenage boy; measuring girls' busts.

He had even taken to collating the results on his personal computer, and at the drop of a bra could produce graphs and charts in glowing colours to demonstrate just how well-developed each of his three young sisters was at any time. It had become a regular ritual. Once every four weeks, on a Saturday night, the girls would enlist Micky to measure them carefully and accurately. The trend was slowly but inexorably upwards.

For the past year, Zelda had joined in these jolly sessions, despite having nothing herself to measure. Until now. Little Zed was little no longer. She'd enjoyed a growth spurt, adding four inches to her slender frame so she was now just a hair short of five feet tall. Her periods had started, and as the Cupps were a well-organised family, she had immediately fallen into a rhythm with her sisters, who all came round within two days of each other. Naturally, their breast-measuring sessions were timed to take place on the Saturday immediately before their periods.

And now, upheaval! Micky had missed a Saturday - and Dolly had not only missed a period, she had opted out of them altogether for a while.

The sisters rejoiced, falling over each other to wait hand and foot on Michael when they got back from the shops. While their mother happily toiled in the kitchen, planning a whole week of chores for her loving son before he had to go back to school, the girls gathered round their big brother, all talking at once.

"And I met this amazingly horny boy at the school disco, he was..."

"Weren't there any girls at this camp of yours? How did you all survive... ?"

"The doctor says it's not true you carry the baby lower if it's a boy..."

"And I'd only had it a week and the cups were too tight..."

"And we ended up in the field behind the Baptist chapel. Wow, talk about kissing..."

"If he asks me out again, I'm going to tell him..."

"The head teacher says I can carry on until Christmas, but once I get too big, it might be better if I get a private tutor..."

"And I'm still only seventeen inches round the waist..."

Home! Michael let it wash over him. The babble continued right through dinner, with the addition of his mother, who talked non-stop, just like her daughters.

" ... the garage door. The left one, not the right. That's the left as you look at it from the front, looking in, not when you're inside looking out. And the gate needs oiling, and as soon as you've fixed the mower, we've got to do something about the front..."

It went quiet eventually, when Mrs Cupps went upstairs to get ready for her regular Saturday evening's entertainment at the social.

Kitty cornered her brother. "You haven't forgotten what night it is?"

"No, Zed reminded me."

"Good! 'Cos I think I've really grown this time, with it being two months since we last checked officially. I can't remember how big I was exactly, but..."

"You were huge, Kit! You still are."

Kitty blushed delightedly. "But I bet I'm even bigger now. I can't wait for Ma to go out..." She fled to the bathroom, and seconds later came pounding downstairs again on her way to the downstairs toilet.

"What was she saying?" Jilly asked. "Is she still growing?"

"It looks like it."

"Great fat bitch. Look at her bum. She can hardly get through the door."

An exaggeration, of course. Kitty was the largest of the girls, but she was shapely as well as voluptuous, and her waist was remarkably tiny for such a well rounded young woman.

Dolores was keeping herself to herself. Although she had discussed her condition in general terms with Michael, she seemed reluctant to talk about it one to one. She hovered in the kitchen, pretending to be doing the dishes, but listening carefully. She sniffed disapprovingly when Zelda grabbed Michael and tried to talk about her bra yet again.

He diverted her. "I'll go and start the computer so it will be all ready for when Ma goes out," he said, retreating backwards up the stairs, pursued by a wobbling T-shirt very full of Zed. "You're not wearing a bra," he accused her sternly.

"Does it show?" she coo-ed, shaking her chest. "It was getting so tight, I had to take it off before it strangled me," she said with the biggest pout of all time.

"Zelda, come in here and dry these mugs and plates," Dolly demanded with all the authority of her four years' advantage. "You're getting too big for your boots, young lady, as well as your shirts..."

"I wonder if she'll be home tonight?" said Jilly as the front door slammed and the taxi bore their mother away.

"Not if she gets lucky again." Kitty sniffed her disapproval. "I don't know how she can complain about us shagging all the boys for miles around when she goes out on a Saturday night and leaves us to our own devices."

"But she doesn't complain," said Dolores, brushing her hair down into a swishing golden curtain all round her head. She parted it with both hands and peered out. "She's perfectly happy with us fucking boys. She said she was just the same at our age."

"But it's against the law!" Kitty complained unhappily.

"So don't do it, then, if it troubles your conscience!"

Kitty turned pale. "Don't do it? How you can stand there, nearly three months pregnant, and tell me not to fuck boys..."

"I'm not telling you not to," said Dolly sweetly. "But if you have a problem with it, you know what to do. Just say no."

"What was that word again?" Jilly asked. "I don't think it's part of young Kitty's vocabulary. Which consists mainly of grunts and feral howls..."

Kitty blushed. She had made the mistake of sneaking a boy into the house one night a few weeks ago. She had let him in at the back door and stressed the need for absolute silence as she took him by the trembling hand and led him up the stairs, carefully avoiding the creaky fifth step. Somehow, they had made it undetected to the landing and into her bedroom. There, despite the lad's terror at the thought of discovery, young Kitty had swiftly coaxed him into a state of erection and pleasured herself so comprehensively that she had woken the entire household.

"We couldn't get off to sleep until you'd sent him home at midnight," Dolores continued. "Why couldn't he have stayed all night? Was he going to turn into a pumpkin?"

"Knowing our Kitty's tastes, he'd already started," Jilly laughed. "I bet he was a cucumber already."

"A king-sized cucumber!"

"A vegetable marrow."

"She's the only pumpkin round here," suggested Dolores. "And she keeps them up her shirt."

"Shut up, you two!"

Jilly hadn't finished. "Ma even asked if it had been me making all the noise! Me! I know I do get a bit excited when I'm doing it, but I'm quiet as a mouse compared to that din."

"Stop it!" Poor Kitty was close to tears.

Dolores was looking out of the window. She turned, her dress almost transparent against the setting sun, and showing the start of her baby bulge. "It was your fault Ma stopped us bringing boys home. It's okay while it's still summer, but what are we going to do when it's too cold to do it outside?"

"Ma will change her mind by then," said Jilly soothingly. "She just likes to exert her authority now and again. And she's never told any of us we can't have boys. She's only worried in case Kitty makes too much noise one night when she's got a bloke in her bed. Ma can't handle that sort of competition."

"What are we talking about?" chirped Zelda brightly, bouncing into Jilly's room.

"Nothing."

"Nothing for young ears."

"You're too young to join in..."

"You're talking about boys," Zelda announced. "You don't have to stop just because I'm here. I know about boys. They look at me, too."

"No wonder they look at you," Jilly glared disapprovingly at the youngest sister. "You should be wearing a bra, Zed."

"It's too tight," said Zed simply.

"Not again! You've only had that one a week."

"Two weeks. I told Ma it wasn't going to be big enough, but she wouldn't listen."

"You can wear one of mine," Jilly offered. "I'm probably the nearest to your size."

Zed squeaked excitedly. "Wheee, Jilly! Can I choose which one? One of your sexy soft black ones?"

"You can't have one of those, they're too new. I've got some old ones. Look in that bottom drawer."

Zed shot across to the dressing table and began hauling out a jumbled pile of mostly outgrown foundation garments.

"I wondered why you kept all those tatty old bras," Kitty said, happy that attention had been diverted from her own noisy sexual exploits. "Now I know."

"She never throws anything away," Dolores sneered. "Not even her old boyfriends."

"Nobody would want them."

"Can I try this one, Jilly?" Zed held up a lacy creation in pale blue.

"No, not that one. It's not suitable! You're too young to wear anything like that."

Zed pouted and resumed her search.

"She'd look a real little tart in that," said Dolores. "Just like Jilly did when she wore it."

"Ma bought it for me," said Jilly in self defence. "If she approved it, it must have been acceptable."

"Oh, yeah? And was Ma buying sexy lingerie herself at the same time, by any chance?"

"So what if she was?"

There was a small gasp from Zed, and she bundled something up in both hands. "I'll go and try this on in my room," she muttered, reversing out with her hands behind her back.

"That's right! Leave your mess all over the floor!" Jilly surveyed the pile of unsuitable, worn-out or unattractive bras rejected by Zed. She dumped them all back in the drawer and forced it shut with her foot.

"Where's Micky, anyway?" Kitty demanded. "He does know what night this is?"

"He's been away from girls for five weeks," said Dolores. "You want to guess what he's doing?"

The sisters considered this uncomfortable thought.

"Should we remind him again?" suggest Kitty.

"Better give him another twenty minutes first."

They were all blondes, but Michael was always struck by the difference in their hair. Jilly's shoulder-length crop was pale and silken, Dolly's was like spun gold. Kitty's was only just blonde, being such a dirty-blonde shade it was almost light brown. It fell in a confused tangle almost to her hips. And Zed, who came into Michael's room last of all, had locks of a delicate strawberry colour. Usually, it was tied in a ponytail, but right now it swung loose round her shoulders and her far more than budding breasts. The girl crept in as if she were hiding something. Whatever it was, she was hiding it in a big blue work shirt that was so much too large for her, it completely covered her vestigial shorts and only the very tips of her fingers poked out of the sleeves.

They all gathered round the computer and stared at the monitor. "That's me, in red," Kitty pointed quite unnecessarily to the chart showing the progress of their outright bust sizes over the past two years. Three brightly coloured lines inched their way across the chart, wavering from time to time but always steadily climbing upwards. At the foot of the chart, young Zed was represented by an almost horizontal line in brilliant yellow.

"What about last month's?" Jilly asked. "Are you going to guess at the figures and fill them in?"

"We'll just skip last month's," said Michael. "The lines will go straight from June to August. It won't show too badly. They've probably all gone up since June."

"It must be the hot weather making us grow," suggested Kitty.

"Speak for yourself," said Dolores grimly. "Who's first?"

It was always the same, each month. The order had always been Jilly, Dolores, then Kitty. It had never changed. As far as Jilly was concerned, it was quite right and proper that they should be measured in descending order of age. From Kitty's point of view, what could be more reasonable than that Michael should measure them in ascending order of size? Zed was irrelevant anyway, right down at the foot of the screen.

Jilly had already peeled off her T-shirt and was hefting the cups of her well-filled black bra in both palms. She stepped forward, her sisters looking at her critically but not unkindly. In fact, their figures were all different enough that they didn't feel undue envy. Jilly's bust was smaller than that of her two younger sisters, but she was devastatingly slim, and at five feet one, she was far more petite than either of them.

"Waist first!" They chanted the familiar chorus, as if Michael could even dream of getting it wrong. Jilly's waist was so miniscule, it was almost impossible to believe. The tape slid easily round her as she turned her back to her brother and held her arms above her head.

Michael studied the tape for several seconds, allowing the tension to build up. "Still seventeen. Maybe nearly another half inch or so."

"Lay off the potatoes, fatso!" Dolores advised her. Jilly pulled a face at her as Michael allowed the tape to slip down to her hips.

"Thirty-one. No change." This time, Dolores was silent. "Now the bust. Keep your arms up." Michael pulled the measure up to where the black material contrasted starkly with Jilly's pale skin. "Twenty-six," he announced. "What size is this bra?"

"It's still the same one as I was wearing in July," she said, sounding upset that he had failed to remember. A 32E."

"It's showing the strain," Michael remarked. "You're a thirty-eight bust now. That's an inch bigger. 38-17-31." Jilly looked pleased as she stepped back and pulled her T-shirt on again. She always dressed immediately afterwards.

She began edging towards the door. "I've got a date, I'd better go and get ready..." The others had a feeling Jilly didn't want to watch, interesting though the measuring was likely to be. She escaped and they heard her bolt the bathroom door.

Dolores was already stripping off. It wasn't simply a matter of shrugging out of a T-shirt, she was wearing a loose and floaty dress in a filmy white material. It had to come off over her head, which gave the others a sight of Dolly's ripening body while she untangled the dress from her hair. She emerged, flushed, and tossing the dress on to a chair, stood there boldly in her virginal white underwear, defying anyone to comment. There was no need to. Dolly at three months gone was patently not virginal, with her belly filling out into what was on its way to being an impressive mound. Even more impressive at this stage was her bosom, which was ballooning out of the cups of her bra in a determined manner.

But according to the rules of the game, there was other business to come first. Dolly's so-called waist was now thirty inches, four whole inches bigger than before. The revelation brought a combined gasp from her sisters. Her hips, too were larger, up from thirty-five to almost thirty-seven.

"You're going to be huge," Kitty observed.

"You'd better not get pregnant, then, that's all I can say," said Dolores.

Michael looked at her critically. "That tight bra's going to give you a misleading measurement, missy," he scolded, and the young mother-to-be bit her lip disconsolately. "You can either be measured with it on or you can borrow one of Kitty's..."

There was a protest from Kitty. "That's not fair. She can wear her own bra or none at all."

"Don't be bitchy, Kit," said Michael. "How can we get a proper measurement with no bra on?"

"Like this!" Dolores pronounced, suddenly wrenching her bra off and thrusting out her unsupported chest. To everyone's astonishment, they didn't flop down to her belly, her fat tits just stayed right up there.

"Bloody hell, Micky," Kitty gasped. "You'd better measure them quick before they fall down."

"Yeah," Dolores agreed. "I can't hold them up like this forever. It will be all right when my belly gets a bit bigger, I'll have something to rest them on. Meanwhile, just get on with it!"

Michael did. After a lot of grunting and whining from the victim, he pronounced that Dolly was now forty-three solid, self-supporting inches. "If that bra isn't at least a 34H, you're in deep trouble," he told her.

"It's an F," Dolores said.

"You're in deep trouble then," said Kitty.

"I know. In case you hadn't noticed, that's why my tummy's getting bigger. I've been a very naughty little girl."

"Mine are bigger without my bra, too," said Zelda. Her sisters ignored her.

"My turn," Kitty said, anxiously tugging at the buttons of her shirt. "I've got a date, tonight, too."

"Sheez, not again! How do you do it? That's every night this week."

"Put it down to my gentle good nature, my charm and sex appeal. And my simply enormous tits."

"And the fact that you drop your knickers before the boy even tells you his name. Who's the unlucky boy this time, anyway?"

"Plod."

"Plod Constable? You've sunk as low as you can get, dear little sister!"

"You never complained when you were seeing him. Nor did Jilly."

'Plod' Constable was the son of the genial community policeman, who was doomed to spending his entire career in the lowest ranks of the police service. While the system could just about handle the presence of a Constable Constable, a Sergeant Constable would be too confusing, and an Inspector Constable would be beyond a joke. His son was popular among the local girls, as it gave them a chance to quote the well-worn joke: 'Is that your dad's truncheon in your pocket, or are you just pleased to see me?'

Plod was pleased to see them all.

"Just remember when he asks your age, you're sixteen, okay?"

"That's what the other girls told me," said Kitty, mystified. "I wasn't going to tell him I was fourteen, anyway. But why sixteen?"

"He likes to keep on the right side of the law. As long as he has reason to believe a girl is sixteen or over, and as long as he hasn't reached his twenty-fifth birthday, he can plead innocence of statutory rape."

"If there was any rape involved, I was planning on doing it myself," Kitty said, licking her lips.

"And don't bring him home tonight, either," Michael warned her. "We need our beauty sleep."

"You won't let me forget that, will you? I couldn't help it if the boy was very thick and I was tight..."

"You? Tight?" Dolores gasped at her sister's outrageous statement. "You haven't been tight since you first made love to a Coke bottle. What's the difference between Kitty Cupps and a Kit-Kat?" she continued in a sing-song voice.

"You only get four fingers in a Kit-Kat," Zelda piped up innocently. "What does that mean... ?"

"See," said Dolores. "They've even heard that joke in the Junior school. What kind of a reputation does that give our family?"

Kitty chewed her fingers. "I can't help it if I like sex and I'm good at it, can I? I am good, everybody says so."

"They probably do," Michael sighed. "Come on, then, get your kit off, and let's find out how much bigger you are this month. That shirt looks set to split down the middle."

"I've got another one bigger than this," she said, loosening the buttons and thrusting out her improbably large rack. Jeans, too?"

"No, thanks," Dolores laughed. "Not unless you've got some lifebelts handy." But she stood and watched in frank admiration as her sister's magnificent physique was revealed. There was a great deal to admire.

"Shit, Kitty!" Michael fumbled nervously with the tape measure. "Is it safe to go under there without support?"

"I've got my bra on," Kitty whined.

"You're so top heavy, it will take more than a bra," Dolores said shakily. "You need scaffolding."

Michael made her turn her back. "To stop me getting distracted," he explained, and Kitty grinned proudly. "Waist, twenty-three!"

"How does she do it?" Dolores said wonderingly. "She eats like a horse."

"It all goes to her hips," said Michael. "Forty-one!"

"Going u-up," Dolores sang like an elevator attendant.

"Still thirty-two round the chest. Just a thirty-eight bra."

"Huh! Just!" Big sister Dolly's banter was sounding weaker all the time.

"And bust, forty-eight!"

"Wow! I knew I'd grown, but that's ... how much since last time?"

"You were forty-five in June." Michael entered the number and saw the red line on the chart extend itself bravely and steeply upwards. At 48-23-41, Kitty's hourglass figure was assuming an awesome degree of hourglassiness.

"At least my bra still fits me." Kitty smirked with satisfaction as she climbed back into her shirt. "I'll go and get ready for Mr Plod, the policeman's well-hung son."