[SoylentOrange]

Cyndi sighed as she settled in behind the plate. It was a view she was rather used to, staring down the pitcher, but usually it was staring down the opposing pitcher, not the one from her own team. The decision to make her a catcher had been reached from two angles; firstly, because her enormous chest had made all but the briefest sprints for fly balls nearly impossible, and because the catcher's pad- the largest men's size they could find that was league-allowed- was the only thing even semi-adequate to the task of preserving her modesty. Still, even in this role her enormous bosom offered a tactical advantage- the burliest runner out there couldn't knock the ball from her grip when she was on home plate, not with a good couple feet of shock absorption between the catcher's pad and the rest of her. She'd even re-earned her nickname, with a slight edit- it was now "Smash-in Cyndi", after the waterbed-like displacement her chest made from someone running into the front of her. She'd take what she could get, though- after all, a perfect record of plate-holds isn't something just any catcher could claim.