Welcome to Juggalos [BE/Butt/hips Expansion]

[Melkorios]

Yeah, my drawings are a bit on the simplistic side. Plus I haven't had experience with anything that big....

[cyero]

Heh.

At least you can draw... I don't even know how to use my scanner.

[hmmm!]

Anyone want another picture? I think I've got it.

http://www.process-productions.com/f...&postcount=167

[Pink Hair-Dye Guy]

I really need to get some free time to sit down and read each of the chapters that go with each piece. Great work though hmmm!

[DanTails]

This last pic isn't getting enough love.

Just look at the way Penelope's ass bounces! And how huge her chest still is.. D:

(I also did a crappy Juggalos related sketch, and put it in my DA gallery.. but nobody wants to see it. Please.)

EDIT: Loved it enough to make it my avatar. <3 you, Penny...

[hmmm!]

Originally Posted by DanTails

This last pic isn't getting enough love.

Just look at the way Penelope's ass bounces! And how huge her chest still is.. D:

(I also did a crappy Juggalos related sketch, and put it in my DA gallery.. but nobody wants to see it. Please.)

Haha, yeah, let's hear it for Penelope and the good stuff!

Thanks for the promotion, Dan. And don't belittle yourself, just keep sketching!

[hmmm!]

Go here for a new picture: http://www.process-productions.com/f...&postcount=167

And stay here for the next chapter! Soy is feeling a little under the weather, so he asked me to post it up.
================

Working Girl
Chapter 6: A Worse Night

Maddi stood in her flat's tiny shower, the warm water running over her face. She was still a little befuddled at that waitress Penelope's odd behaviour the night before, but in hindsight the pieces were beginning to fit together properly. The first touches were exploratory, that's what they were. Penelope had been testing the waters, to see if Maddi would respond positively to her advances. Her uncontrollable giggling due to that damnable tonic was probably enough to convince Penelope that Maddi was amenable to her advances- perhaps even enjoying them! Maddi sighed as she rubbed her face in the stream of water, the tender spots in her cheeks complaining slightly beneath her touch. Hopefully Trixie had decided to take pity on Maddi and she wouldn't have to endure that humiliating ordeal again tonight. Still, Maddi conceded as she ducked her head under the water to give one last rinse of her hair, if she had to be regularly accosted by the other
waitresses, she preferred Penelope's approach to that foul woman Riley's. Penelope might be shockingly too forthcoming, but at least she wouldn't take a swing at her. Although, Maddi wondered as she rinsed the last errant suds off, she wasn't sure what Riley would swing at her, the way she used those bosoms of hers as a battering ram.

She pushed in the valve to shut off the water, pulling aside the flimsy plastic sheet that served as a shower door here in the dormitories. Maddi supposed she should be thankful for the private shower at all; it wasn't uncommon for a water closet in England to be small enough to forbid sitting, much less laying down like you could in the dorm's bath/shower combo. Not that she'd ever had to deal with such tiny facilities in her father's home, but she knew how it was for the less affluent- her mother had made sure of it.
As Maddi emerged from the bathroom wrapped in her towel, she heard the lock turn in their door. Maddi tightened the towel around herself as Sheila came in, her backpack stuffed with camera gear, to say nothing of her shoulderbag or her array of lenses hung on lanyards around her neck.
"Oh, good," Sheila said, panting a bit as she quickly but gently dumped her gear in the hallway. "I'm beat, and I need a shower *now*."
Maddi moved to her dresser as Sheila lurched into the bathroom, her clothes firing out against the wall a garment at a time before the door closed and the water turned back on. Maddi quickly got dressed, stuffed the towel in her hamper, and set down at her desk. She had a paper to write before the spring holiday was over, and as mad as her schedule had been she wanted to make sure she had everything she needed done by next Monday. The last thing she needed was to have to do it the night before at that damnable restaurant, trying futilely to type a paper up on a laptop when she couldn't even see the keyboard beneth her bosom, much less reach them.

* * *

"So where were you, anyways?" Maddi asked as she finished up the bibiliography. Sheila was parked in front of her dilapidated television set, too old and decrepit to ctually receive channels any longer but good enough to take the output from Sheila's VCR, which she had been feeding her little tapes into ever since she got out of the shower.
"That little grove off of Enterprise street, between the freeway and the campus wall," Sheila said, squinting and leaning in towards her TV.
"Where? Oh, that little clearing by the road with all the creeping ivy?"
"Around here it's known as Kudzu," Sheila said. "A.k.a., 'The weed that ate the south'." Sheila leaned over to her bunk and started pulling the top sheet off of it. "And all the spiders, and the dust, and all the grody ick that you can't see under the leaves unless you're walking through it..." She continued as she spread the sheet over herself and the TV, creating her own private darkroom as she analyzed the tapes.
"Well goodness, then why on earth go in there?" Maddi asked, trying to suppress a laugh; as much as she'd probably wind up tittering like a dolt tonight she wanted to keep from laughing if she could help it, when she could help it.
"Because it's this really neat green-light dome!" Sheila said from under her sheet. "Filming in there is like using a green-light filter lens, only for real!"
"If you're that desperate for a filtering lens, I'll spring for it," Maddi said as she hit the print button, her paper humming out of the printer and into her hand. "...What on earth?" She muttered to herself as she looked at her paper. "This is gibberish!"
"It's not that!" Sheila chided. "It's that with all the green ivy everywhere, the light really was green, the whole little grove with a natural tint."
"You know that takes all of five seconds to do in post-production," Maddi said, punctuated by a series of shrill beeps from her computer. "Oh, what now?" She said as she looked at her screen.
"You and your photoshop," Sheila said. "Special effects have taken all the purity out of the art, I tell you."
"Oh dear, here we go again," Maddi said, rolling her eyes crossly as she tried in vain to get her computer to respond.
"I'm serious!" Sheila said, the sheet bobbing slightly as she gyrated in her little tent. "Movies used to be about making light and shadow work for you, of framing a scene just so, because you couldn't do it any other way! Look at Hitchcock, he made an iconic legacy out of a horn, a spotlight, and a white dropcloth! None of this CGI nonsense, like Lucas and his silly 'We'll take Obi-wan's delivery from take 3 and Anakin's reaction from take 17' garbage... And stop making that quacking thing with your hand!"
Maddi paused, blushing as she glanced over at her hand, where she'd been tapping her four fingers against her outstretched thumb. "...How thin is that sheet anyways?"
Sheila laughed. "Thick enough I can't see out of it, but I *knew* you were doing it!"
"Oh, fine, fine," Maddi said, growling at her computer. "Work, damn you- I- oh, fie, there it goes- and I didn't save it!" She exclaimed as her computer locked up entirely.
"What's going on?" Sheila asked, pulling her little tent up so she could see Maddi.
"Oh, nothing," Maddi said, slumping back in her chair. "Damnable machine ate my paper. No matter, I'll just have to re-do it, but I remember what I had spoken about fairly well, so it shouldn't be too much of a bother." Maddi 'Hmph'-ed and looked at her watch. "Well," she sighed, "Looks like the time is coming up..." She 'hmph'-ed again. "Couldn't I call in sick?"
Sheila frowned sympathetically at her roommate as she gathered up her sheet in a ball and threw it onto her bunk. "It wouldn't help bring down your tab any..."
"I suppose not," Maddi said as she lurched up from her chair, casting one last baleful glance at her computer. "Let's just get this over with."

* * *

"...Is there any way to avoid this rotten tonic?" Maddi asked as they got off the motorway towards Juggalos.
"Not that I'm aware of," Sheila said. "I've seen five girls toniced the whole time I've been here, and none of them were able to stop it." She shivered slightly at the memory. "Though I will say Riley managed to make her giggling so terrible that Trixie vowed you couldn't pay her enough to tonic Riley again. it really was that bad."
Maddi shivered as well, wondering what kind of mirthless sound someone like Riley could produce if they wanted to.
"So... what, then? Just grin and bear it?"
"Not much else you can do, really..."
"Fantastic."
The pair quickly entered the restaurant and got ready, Maddi cringing as the very act of getting dressed made her giggle foolishly. It just wasn't proper, to have such outbursts all the time, and completely unbidden, to boot. Maybe it was just her upbrining, but Maddi felt one needed a *reason* to be happy; it's what made such moments special.
Soon enough, Maddi found herself in the back of the lounge, listening to another of Trixie's pep talks with the rest of the waitresses. The broad smile had settled back into her features as a result of that God-forsaken "tickle tonic", though Maddi wasn't as keen on resisting it anymore. She knew the futility of it; there was no point in wearing herself out or pulling a muscle trying to close up her gob when the damn tonic would make her laugh at the slightest breeze.
"And remember, tomorrow's game night, so it'll be crowded. Don't be afraid to get help from another waitress or just make two runs if your order's too big for your britches," Trixie finished up. "You *might* lose some tips for taking longer to serve the food, but I guarantee you *will* have to pay for anything you drop for being in too big a hurry. Get help! That's what we're here for! Because everything's better-"
"-together!" The assembled crowd chanted. Maddi rolled her eyes as she tried to jostle her way out as quickly as she was able, a smattering of giggles escaping her as she brushed up against the other waitresses. She caught a few knowing looks on her way out- apparently gossip spread quickly in the backrooms and her punishment had become common knowledge. Maddi 'Hmph'-ed as she walked past the seating chart on the wall, grimmacing as best she was able when she read her regular section listed under "Cupcake". What an abhorrent nickname, Maddi thought, like something some prat from the lowlands would adopt to sound 'cute'.
"You're with me again tonight," Angie said as she brushed by Maddi, eliciting a giggle. "Oh, still tonic'd, huh? Well, just try not to shake too much; don't want anything sliding off your butt."
Maddi sighed as she followed Angie to the first table, trying to give herself a wide berth from anything that might aggrivate her laughing.

* * *

After a few hours of shuffling about like an over-stuffed luggage trolley, Maddi spied one of the servers just having finished seating a table and decided to try out taking an order without Angie's help. The less Maddi had to depend on her to take her orders, the less Angie could spy on her to that Trixie woman. Stopping under a waitress station, Maddi reached up and loaded her saddlebags with napkins and silverware, giggling slightly as the fabric of her bags pressed into her bum. Then a pair of menus for the two diners, and finally a flip-pad and pen.
"Good e-hee-vening," She said as she stopped next to the table, passing a menu to each of the diners. She couldn't help but notice the man had a comically unreasonable comb-over, the few long wisps of hair barely able to cover a postage stamp, much less the vast, shiny expense of the man's crown. Maddi just rolled her eyes as she continued. "Can I start you lot off with some drinks?" She asked, holding the pen and notepad above her bosom.
"Bloody Mary, please," The woman said. "From the dry bar."
"Ditto, with a Scotch on the rocks, please," The man said, not looking up from his menu. Maddi tried to write without touching her expansive and unnervingly sensitive bosom, but having to cock her elbows out so far made her writing so illegible she could hardly read it. Sighing inwardly, she rested her elbows on her breasts, allowing her a firm enough footing to write out "Bloody Mary, Scotch/Rocks, dry?" at the top of her pad, giggling the entire time through.
"He-ahem! I'll be b-ba-ha-ack straight away with your drinks," Maddi said as she carefully stepped out into the middle of the aisle before turning and heading to the bar. She passed a few other waitresses, but thankfully she didn't see Penelope among them, and neither did she see that sot Riley. Come to think of it, she mused as she took the steps up to the bar, most of the other waitresses didn't seem to be nearly as large as she and Sheila were. Maybe a handful of the waitresses Maddi had seen surpassed a 2-2- why was Maddi stuck being so freakishly huge? Maddi would have scowled, were it not for the constant shaking and juttering of her bum and breasts causing the tonic to prevent it.
She found Sheila pressed against the bar again, the bartender stuffing drinks into her cleavage like she'd seen the night before. "Sheila!" Maddi called, maneouvering her way to the bar as Sheila made to leave.
"Hey Maddi," Sheila said over her shoulder. "What's up? Got a bunch of drinks to drop off."
"As- pffht- do I," Maddi said, holding up her notepad. "Who do I- heh- give these t-to?"
"Oh! You're taking orders already?" Sheila asked, smiling like a parent proud of their toddler.
"Mo-ho-ho-re or less."
"Okay, just go to the drop-off counter where I just was- you saw, right?- and tell Chris or Mark what you want. If it's not a big order, you can just wait there for it."
"I see," Maddi said, before calling after Sheila again. "Oh! What does- eheh- 'Dry B-bar' mean?"
Sheila hauled to a stop, the glasses in her cleavage clanking together slightly. "Oh, right. The 'Dry Bar' is just normal drinks. If they want the special versions, you get them from the 'Oyster Bar'."
"Oyster bar?" Maddi asked herself as Sheila made her way through the bar. Maddi shrugged it away for now, wanting to just get the drinks and get out as quickly as possible. The bar was more cramped than the rest of the restaurant, and Maddi felt her bum brushing the backs of some of the patrons on the bar stools as she passed by. In point of fact, she swore she could feel some of them leaning back into her as she passed, her constant snickering and giggling probably doing not the slightest to discourage them.
Maddi saw the cleared-away spot for the waitresses, the edge of the bar set in and padded, and realized what she had to do. Or rather, what she was supposed to do. Balking at mashing her prodigious bosom into the bar, she tried instead to sidle up to the side of it, but found that it was just as bad, her behind and boobs pressing into either side of the station enough to encroach on the patrons sitting on either side of it.
"Whaddaya need?" One of the bartenders said, grabbing the rim of the bar with each hand and leaning forward. The bartenders wore white button up shirts under a red and black vest, with an orange bow tie to match the orange "J" embroidered over their breast pocket.
"Ha ha!" Maddi started, the cold metal of the bar's railing making her tingle at both ends. "I'll- ha hee!- Can I- hehe- Aherm! Can I get a blood-hee-y Mary, and a- snrk!- a scotch on the rocks, from the- heh- from the 'Dry' bar?"
"...Sure thing," The bartender said, giving Maddi an odd look before heading off to fill the order.
Maddi stepped away from the bar, a shiver running the entire length of her body, causing her to roll her shoulders as she laughed uncontrollably at the sensations dancing across her skin. Maddi swallowed hard as soon as the laughing subsided to a point where she could manage it, her face already starting to ache again. She distractedly wondered if her big toothy grin was attractive- she'd been told she had a good smile for an englishwoman, but that wasn't saying much- it might be true, but "for an englishwoman" was usually damning with faint praise.
Not having anywhere else to put her hands that wouldn't make her laugh, maddi crossed her arms over the top of her head, being carful not to brush her ears as she turned herself around and faced the bar. Much as she was loathe to just mash herself into the front of the bar like some floozy, there wasn't any helping it; her prior attempt to approach with some semblance of dignity wound up being even worse.
"Order's up!" The bartender said, holding a drink in each hand and looking at Maddi expectantly. Gritting her teeth, Maddi eased herself into the padded spot at the bar, tittering uncontrollably as her breats compressed, billowing up close enough to her face that she could probably have reached them with the tip of her tongue, were she completely out of her mind. The tittering exploded into full-blown laughter as the bartender reached over and jammed the ice-cold glasses into her cleavage, goose bumps rising on her flesh and a shiver twinging the nape of her neck.
"Easy there," The bartender said, an eyebrow arched. "You keep like that and they'll spill." Indeed, even as Maddi pulled away from the bar, she could see the drinks sloshing dangerously close to the rims of their glasses, the celery stalk in the tall, thin bloody mary swaying to and fro like a storm-tossed sailor.
"Can't- heheheee!- can't help it..." Maddi said, biting on her lip hard enough to hurt. It took all of her concentration to keep the drinks level in her jostling bosom- Maddi couldn't fathom how Sheila did it with a baker's dozen filling her cavernous cleavage. She briefly considered using her hands to steady her bosom, but with that damned tonic coursing through her veins she knew the contact would only cause her to shake more.
"Heh-heh-here are your- snicker- drinks!" Maddi said, trying to sound upbeat as she reached her table, pulling each glass from her cleavage with a shiver. "Sc-scotch on the rocks f-for the- heh- gentleman, and a bloody- snrk!- mary for the lady." She took a deep breath, feeling the residual moisture trickling down deeper into her cleavage. "Are, ah, are you r-ready to order?"
"No, I think we'll need a few more minutes," The husband said, sounding a little more gruff than Maddi thought was called for.
"All righ-hi-ight," Maddi snickered, excusing herself to attend another table.
She came up alongside five university-age students, three men and two women, who were laughing and making faces at each other.
"Look at you!" One of the men said to the woman who sat across from him. "You wook wike wiff!" He continued, placing the edge of each palm against his lips and flapping them like a duck's bill.
"It's not that bad!" The woman replied, and Maddi let out a shocked yelp when she saw what the woman looked like. Her lips looked like those novelty wax treats one saw around halloween, fire-engine red and plush beyond even the most ridiculously collagen-injected Page 3 girl's. She laughed sheepishly and held an empty champagne flute between her thumb and forefinger, giving it a tiny shake as she looked at Maddi. "Refill, please?" She asked, her smile looking like something out of modern art.
"To go," the man across from her said, gently taking the glass from her and handing it to Maddi. "One more Goodnight Kiss from the Oyster Bar, to go, please."
All Maddi could do was giggle oddly as she took the glass from the man and turned back towards the bar, cringing as she slid the glass as gently as she could between her breasts.
"Ah, a-ha-ha-hurm! If this is the 'Dry Ba-hee-heh-bar', where might I- tee-hee- Where might I f-find the 'Oyster Bar'?" She asked as she leaned in against the padded bar again.
"Oh, they're the same place," The bartender explained as he took the champagne flute from Maddi's cleavage, "It's just 'Oyster Bar' versions of drinks have the special stuff in it- like the pearl inside an oyster, you know?"
Maddi simply nodded, trying to keep from giggling as much as she could. "One Goodnight K-Kiss pffph-tee-hee-hee from the O-Oyster Bar- snrk!- then," She said.
"Sure thing," he said, turning around and searching for a bottle on the wall behind him. Maddi pushed back off of the bar, trying not to touch anything, a difficult feat in the crowded room. She watched Sheila delivering her drinks and wondered how on earth she maneouvered around the bar without constantly running into things. But as she watched, Maddi realized that, quite simply, she didn't; As she squeezed between tables, her massive mounds of flesh would overflow the backs of the chairs, squishing into the backs and heads of the patrons she was moving past. And what's more, they seemed to love it- every patron she forced herself by wore a grin like Maddi's tonic-enforced one, laughing and smiling like it was christmas morning.
Maddi shuddered at the thought of her touching so many things and people with such private parts. It was bad enough that these ridiculous outfits left so much hanging out for the whole wide world to *see*- to *touch* those places were a privelidge reserved for a much higher caliber of relationship than patrons at a restaurant she'd been coerced into serving.
"Goodnight Kiss, up!" the bartender said, and Maddi grimly edged herself into the recessed area of the bar. The Bartender dropped the sugar cube in the plastic flute and capped it before shoving it gently into Maddi's cleavage. Maddi headed for the exit, cringing (though still giggling) as she felt her bum brush past the backs of the patrons seated on the bar's stools. She could swear she even felt someone intentionally lean back into her as she passed by, which made bile rise up in her throat at the sheer repulsiveness of it. She picked up her speed, jiggling ludicrously from side to side, her breasts and buttocks heaving obscenely up and down with each quickened step as she tried to get back to her work area. Thankfully the to-go drink was capped; the way her breasts violently shook the flute back and forth she was certain there'd be nothing left inside had it been open.
Maddi returned to the table with the five university students, who were packing up their things to leave.
"Your- heh- your goodnight k-kiss, to go- snicker- ma'am," Maddi said, pulling the plastic flute from her chest and handing it to the woman, who was rummaging in her purse.
"Oh! Thank you," She giggled, taking it and unsteadily setting it on the table.
"Remember Em, no more until we get back," the man across from her said. "Any more of this stuff and you won't be able to see past those monsters."
The woman laughed again, her lips a parody of plumpness.
"We already gave the check to the other server," the man explained as they rose from the booth.
"But we forgot the tip!" The inebriated woman said, pulling a bill from her wallet. "Here!" She said, laughing as she plunged her fist into Maddi's cleavage, leaning forward until she was sunk in nearly to her shoulder, the flood of sensation nearly making Maddi weak in the knees. Though not as bad as when Penelopee had tweaked her nipple, the myriad sensations- the rough warmth of the bill, the cold metal of the woman's bracelet, and the silky smoothness of her skin- was enough to make her nearly senseless with laughter. But when she put her other hand firmly on Maddi's right breast to push herself out, leaving the bill somewhere within the deep, dark recesses of her cleavage as she pushed bodily against Maddi's bosom, the sensation was too much to bear. Maddi bit her tongue so hard she felt she would draw blood, her knees pressed against each other as she struggled to maintain up from down, the sensations causing her brain to become completely
discombobulated from the pleasure. She felt afraid, ashamed, violated, and yet all she could do was laugh and giggle as the quintet walked away from the table.
Maddi had to take a few moments to collect herself, the other servers and waitresses blithely manouvering around her and walking past as she sat there jibbering like an idiot. Through sheer force of will she staggered to the table with the bald man and his wife, the crinkled-up bill poking into her cleavage maddeningly.
"C-can I ta-hee-hake your o-ho-order?" She stammered out, her hands shaking as she reached into her pockets and pulled out her notepad and pen.
"What's so funny?" The man asked, agitated.
Maddi tried to explain as best she was able that she was just ticklish tonight, and she was laughing over being touched "awkwardly", though as broken up as her words were with her tittering, it came out fairly rambling, at least to Maddi's ears.
The old man seemed to frown. "Seems like an awful lot of giggling for one little tickle."
"Be-hee-hee-lieve me, sir- pffpht!- it was a very- ha-ha!- very l-large tickle," Maddi said, wishing more than anything that they would spit their orders out and be done with it so Maddi could go into the back of the restaurant where she could at least lose every last shred of her dignity in private as she fished the offending bill out of her mountainous cleavage.
The old man stewed a bit before putting his menu down and frowning at Maddi. "Are you laughing at my hair?" He asked.
"Wha-ha-hat?" Maddi asked, trying not to stare at the horrid comb-over as she turned her head to look at the man. "N-no, Sir, Tha-hat's not-"
"You are!" He gumped, putting a hand on his hip.
"Dear, please don't make a-" The woman started.
"I'm not making a scene!" He snapped at his wife.
"Ple-hee-ease, sir," Maddi stammered, trying to ignore the sensations from the crumpled bill in her cleavage as she shook. "It's- snrk- n-nothing to do with you. I- I-" Maddi lowered her voice- "I've- pfft- got something stuck somewh-hey-here uncomfortable," She finally said, her face flushing with embarrasment.
"Oop!" The woman said, puuting a hand to her mouth to hide a smile. "Just like in Bali, dear, remember?"
"Maggie!" The man said, his anger replaced with shock. "That's not dinner conversation! My word!" The woman let out a giggle as she took a sip of her drink, and Maddie seized the opportunity to try and change the subject.
"Are- hrm- are we ready to ord-heh-her?" She said, pulling the pad and pen from her pockets, holding her arms askew so as to not touch anything sensetive (which, she thought bleakly, was everything.)
"Same as always," The woman said, smiling. "The fresh spring greens salad, followed by angel hair marinara."
Maddi jerkily scrawled the order down, trying her best to stifle her giggling before turning to the old man.
"Veal parmesean," he said curtly, seeming to give up on his grouchiness, if perhaps reluctantly.
Maddi nodded, biting her lip to keep from laughing, then walked briskly to the kitchen. She didn't even bother to turn sideways to push the doors open; Maddi forced the doors open with her bosom, the small fit of laughter sending aches radiating through her chest and neck. She was giggling through gritted teeth and teary eyes as she tossed her pad down on the "drop off" section of the counter, the other servers' odd looks going unnoticed as she spun back around, nearly side-swiping another waitress with her mammoth hindquarters, before marching into the lounge.

Maddi practically dove for the corner, sitting in her usual spot, putting her face in her hands as her shoulders heaved. She was very near to tears, and the fact that by appearances she was still laughing made it all more devastating to her. She was glad the lounge was empty for the time being- she needed a few minutes to regain her composure, and she just couldn't handle being in the middle of that madhouse any longer. Maddi wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, still shaking a bit from the feelings of the crumpled-up bill in her cleavage. She knew she had to get it out of there somehow, but in the barren lounge there didn't seem to be much she could do for it. Maddi looked down at her breasts, the soft, bulbous flesh overflowing her legs and obstructing most of the lower plane of her view. She could feel where the bill was, couldn't *help* but feel it, and yet it seemed so far away. She knew she had to get it out of there, though, or it would
surely drive her mad. Tenatively, Maddi reached one hand up and over the vast expanse of her bosom, her hand perched just above the dark crease of her cleavage. Maddi lowered her hand into her cleavage, immediately jerking it back out with a whoop, the sensation nearly electric. Maddi grimmaced (Not that the expression made it all the way to her face) and tried to steel herself for another go. She reached in, parting the flesh with her fingers, biting her lip as the sensations began to build, making her heart flutter with every centimeter of progress. She chanced a look down as she sank her hand in up to her wrist, seeing how she was being completely enveloped in her own cleavage, the soft, firm meat flowing around her hand like a spoon in pudding.
"I need a bloody scuba mask," Maddi thought as she began laughing uncontrollably, the sensations of her arm being sandwiched between each smooth, sensetive breast overloading her brain. Each centimeter deeper made it even worse, and with all the shaking she was doing, it only accentuated every bit of skin plumbing the depths of her cavernous cleavage. The lounge practically echoed with her laughter, and yet all she could do against it was to clamp her eves shut and keep her other arm as far away from contact with any part of her as possible. As she managed to finally sink her elbow beneath the horizon of her breasts, the right globe malforming and squashing under the stress of her bicep, Maddi thought she very well could lose her mind from pleasure. In a way, she almost felt distracted, like she was laughing so loud and so hard she had become removed from it, simply incredulous at this version of reality she was occupying. Finally, excruciatingly,
Maddi's probing, plumbing fingers felt paper, and she snatched the bill into her fist and pulled her arm out of herself as quickly as she could. She did it with such force, in fact, that it hefted her left breast up and out of her top, another round of electric laughter escaping her as the cool air conditioning caused her nipple to pucker with goosebumps and harden.
"Damn it all!" Maddi cried out in her head as she leaned forward the paltry distance she was able to before becoming enveloped in the breastflesh compressing between her legs and the rest of her torso, grabbing the neckline of her top as far to the front as she could and pulling it up to make her at least not *illegally* indecent.

Maddi gritted her teeth, her laughs escaping her now sounding like some kind of bestial noise, breaths she sucked between her teeth like the hissing of a snake. Maddi slapped herself hard across the face, first from one side and then the other, the sting of her cheeks barely penetrating the haze of laughter. Desperate, Maddi reached up to her ears, the touch of her fingertips adding only slightly to the maelstrom of sensation she was still reeling from. With the kind of speed found only in the truly desperate, Maddi grabbed her ears in her hands, curling her fingers into fists and pulling down as hard as she could. The pain was immediately intense, the fuzzy skin screaming out as she yanked on them, her nails digging into the soft insides hard enough that Maddi feared she'd puncture them entirely. The pain radiated through her head and down her spine, tears welling in her eyes as she gritted her teeth, yet still she laughed. Maddi added another
twist for good measure and actually cried out in pain, but all she cared about was getting to stop laughing. Her hands began to shake, her palms sweaty, but she held her ears there, pain shooting from the tips of her ears to the bottoms of her feet with every heartbeat.
"A-ha-ha-huh, a-hee-ha-ha, a-ha, ah-ha, heh, huh, huhh..." Maddi let out, finally letting go of her ears and gasping in a deep breath for the first time in what felt like weeks. As her ears throbbed in rhythm with her heartbeat, she finally felt herself calming down, only the occasional chuckle or titter hitching her breaths. Maddi wiped her eyes with the back of her hand again, thankful that she didn't have any mascara or eyeshadow to worry about smearing. She felt absolutley miserable. It was a stunning kind of misery, one that left a person dumbstruck. Maddi just stared ahead dumbly, only the threat of tickling her cleavage keeping her from letting her head down to rest her chin on her sternum.

The door to the lounge creaked open, and Maddi was instantly shocked from her stupor, her gaze shooting to the door as her heart caught in her chest. If Trixie or one of the other waitresses caught her in this state...
Luckily, only one of the large double doors opened, which immediately disqualified Trixie. But her expectations were swung completely around when she saw a man walk into the room. He was tall and reedy, the well-fit host's uniform clinging to him without a hint of curling or buldging. His hair was blonde like wild wheat, and seemed to be styled in the same manner; his hair seemed to shoot straight out of his scalp, going almost as far up off his head as his long sideburns crawled down it. His eyes were a powder-blue colour, and when they turned to regard Maddi she looked away, wishing she had a lap to fold her hands in.
The man stopped just inside, the door swinging back and forth on its hinges a few times before settling back in its original position. He looked at Maddi, then shook his left arm out as he raised it in front of him, looking at his watch.
"...You're evening shift, right?" He asked as he apoproached the middle of the lounge. Maddi just nodded, biting her lip to keep from laughing.
"Lunch doesn't start for thirty-five minutes," he said, making his way over to the wall Maddi had squeezed herself against.
Maddi had no idea what to say. Who was this person? Was she going to get in trouble? "I- I juh-ha-hust nee-hee-ded to s-sit for a moment."
"Fair enough," He replied, putting his hands in his pockets, only his thumbs hooked outside his slacks. "So, you must be Maddison," He said, glancing at Maddi to see the look of confused recognition on her face before looking back.
"Y-yes," she stammered, looking at him again. "Hee-ha-how...?"
"We got the memo about the tickle tonic," He said, pausing to yawn into his hand. "So I figured you must be the one Trixie was referring to as 'Cupcake'. I don't know about you, but I thought pastry-based nicknames for women went out of style in the 50's. Carlos knew your real name, and there's no one else currently being tonic'd, so..." He shrugged, all the relevant dots connected and the conclusion obvious.
"S-so why-hy-hy- aherm!- are you here?" Maddi asked.
"Just needed a breather. Somewhere quiet. Trixie might think it's worth a laugh, but 'Baby got back' and 'She's a brick' are only cute and entertaining the first couple hundred times..."
Maddi smiled, the first genuine one of the night, and cringed when it hurt to do so. She reached her hands up and massaged her face, the ministrations once again causing her to giggle, but it felt good on her face to work some of the tension out.
"I remember when Hannah got tonic'd last year," He said, still just looking off at the opposite wall. "She really seemed miserable, sometimes, not being able to do anything but laugh. And she was only a 2-2, and I heard it gets worse the bigger you are."
Maddi began to respond, but stopped herself. Could this be a trick? Someone sent by Trixie to test her?
"It-it's not- hpff!- not tha-hat bad..." Maddi stammered.
He turned his head, his heair shuffing against the felt on the walls, one brow arched in disbelief as he looked at Maddi. "If it wasn't that bad you wouldn't be in the corner of the lounge on the clock," he said as he turned back.
"Touche'," Maddi said as she stopped massaging her face and took a breath. Her ears still throbbed and her cheeks still stung, on top of the aches in her sides and chest from all the laughing.
It was quiet again, save for the low humming of the air conditioning. Maddi stewed for a moment, nervous about staying but not wanting to leave, either. She snuck a glance at the man leaning against the wall, seeing his head back and his eyes closed.
Maddi's brows furrowed, a frown pulling unsuccesfully against the tickle tonic. "Some pra-ha-hat stuffed a bill in my- my bosom," She blurted out, turning her face to the wall.
"Excuse me?" He asked, leaning off the wall a bit and turning to face Maddi, brows raised.
"S-said it was- heh- a 'tip'," Maddi continued. "Burie-hee-hied her arm- uppft!- up to her sh-shoulder and just le-heh-heft the bill there."
"Unusual," He said plainly, turning back to his original position. "But not that unexpected for here."
"But I didn't wa-ha-hant her to!" Maddi exclaimed, trying her best to sound angry. "Oh, ne-heh-ver mi-hi-hind..." She said as she struggled to her feet, making her way to the doors. She looked at him as she passed, and he returned the look.
"For what it's worth," He said as Maddi got to the doors, turning sideways to push the open with her hand, "I sympathize. I can't *empathize*- can't even *begin* to understand what that feels like, while tonic'd no less- but I sympathize."
Maddi paused a moment, then steeled her face as best she was able. "What was your na- aherm!- name ag-gain, Mr...?"
"Anthony," He said, pushing off the wall with his shoulders and standing straight. "Coleman. Tony for short."
"P-pleasure," Maddi said, before exiting the lounge and heading back to the dining room.


"Where've you been?" Angie asked, ambushing Maddi as she was scarcely through the door.
"Oh-ho-ho-ho!" Maddi hooted, laughter overriding her startled exclamation. "Oh, I-hi had to yoo-hoo-whose the loo."
"Oh, really?" Angie asked, looking put-off. "Your first time being traumatized by Ms. Simms? You okay?"
Maddi pulled back a bit, trying not to get caught in a lie but not knowing how to respond to such a bizarre statement. "N-no, it wasn't tha-hah-hat b-bad..." She replied.
"Really..." Angie said, her brow arched a bit. "Most waitresses your size, their first time is just short of scarring."
Maddi cringed at the thought of something being 'traumatic' even for a Juggalos waitress, but thankfully Angie didn't press the issue. Maddi's ears continued to throb, and it served to temper her laughter a little bit, but she wondered if the means truly justified the end. It was excruciating to pull on her ears like that, and even now she could feel her heatbeat in every trob of the thin, fuzzy flap of skin that comprised her ears. Maddi wondered what that said about her that she'd rather hurt than laugh, but then again it wasn't embarrassing to be in pain.

* * *

Maddi practically raced to the lounge as soon as the clock ticked to the top of the hour, all but throwing her last pair of drink refills to the diners as she made her way to the lounge. She trotted to the corner, the bouncing causing her to laugh, but she wanted to claim her spot as quickly as possible. After settling in to the least laugh-inducing position, Maddi's mind began to drift back to the young man that had come into the lounge. Who was he? He wasn't a waiter, obviously; as far as Maddi had seen the restaurant had no servers or waiters of the male persuasion. He certainly wasn't a cook, either, not dressed as sharply as he was in those slacks and vest. A bartender? Maddi remembered the bartender from the previous night wearing a similar vest. But no, not unless he was the head bartender or something; the bartenders she'd seen had been wearing vests of black and red, and- what was his name? Oh, yes- Anthony's was black and orange. Maybe the host, perhaps? Maddi hadn't been paying attention when she'd come in the first time, what seemed like a lifetime ago, and since then she'd only come in through the back entrance with Sheila.
"Speak of the devil..." Maddi thought as Sheila's unmistakable spheres jutted their way through the doors. Sheila made her way over to the wall, setting her back against it and sliding down until all Maddi could see of her friend around her titanic bosom was her feet and her head, a mattress' worth of fleshy stuffing obscuring every other part of her body.
"Are- pfft!- are you all ri-hi-ight back there?" Maddi ventured.
"I'm not going to do a sit-up any time soon, but I'm okay," Sheila said, punctuating the sentance with a loud sniffle. "Whoo, where'd that come from?" She said, laughing. "Inhaling too much hot sauce off the bar nachos, heh."
Maddi simply nodded to keep from having to talk (and hence laugh), waiting for the waitress to come and take their orders. "She-hee-ila, what's the most, heh, most n-normal thing to eat he-he-here?"
"Decided to relax your prison diet a bit?" Sheila asked, smirking. "If you're looking low-cal but filling, get the 'Blueberry Hill' Muffin. Pretty good, for how little sugar and butter they put into it."
"'Blue-hoo-berry Hill' sounds a bi-hit too m-much like a euph-pfffha ha ha ha!-euphamism for this place..." Maddi said warily.
"No, that's the 'Blueberry Mounds' pie," Sheila replied matter-of-factly. "'Blueberry Hill' is fine. One of the Owner's originals, off an old song he liked." Sheila chuckled. "Besides, it can't taste any worse than what you're used to."
"Wha-ha-hat's that s-supposed to mean?" Maddi asked, surprised.
"Penelope's told me all about British cooking," She said, doing her best French impersonation. "Ahem. 'Take ze bottom rung of French cui-zine, and zen boil all ze flavor out of eet.'"
"Why-hi-ha-hi, that French tart!" Maddi exclaimed, the force of her outburst causing her to jiggle. "There is n-no- snerk!- nothing wrong with Bu-british food! Bangers and ma-ha-mash, b-blood p-puh-pudding- aherm!- and I d-don't ca-ha-ha-hare who you are, I will have words-s-pfft!- with anyone who disparages Sh-sh-shee-hee-hee-hee! Shepherd's pie!"
Sheila burst out laughing, the motion setting her all-encompassing mammaries quivering like a large gelatin mould a curious child keeps incessantly poking. "Don't take it personally, Maddi," Sheila said, wiping her eyes. "She told me that one months ago, before we had an actual Londoner on staff..." She snickered again, and Maddi 'hmph'-ed as best she was able.
"So what'll it be?" a server asked, standing in the gap between Sheila and Maddi's respective meatbags.
"The Blue- heh- bluberry hee-hee-hill muffin, please," Maddi managed.
"That's it?"
Maddi nodded.
"Okay, and you?" She asked, turning to Sheila.
"You know, I'm not really hungry," Sheila said. "A big Mother's Milkshake- off the low menu, obviously- and, oh, I dunno... a small basket of fries, I guess."
"Sure thing," She said, moving around the room to collect the other orders.
Sheila caught Maddi giving her an odd look and tilted her head. "What?"
"Mother's- ahem- Milkshake..?" She asked.
"Well it's not really, obviously. That's just what they call it. Besides, as big as these whoppers are, it's not like you can just plug a spigot in 'em like they were a keg," she laughed. "You'd have to be pregnant, I think, and Trixie's really strict about maternity leave. As soon as you even think you're preggers she insists you take vacation." Sheila tilted her head again, the smallest of frowns crossing her lips as she contemplated. "Dunno why." Sheila's brow furrowed as she focused her gaze on Maddi, the frown deepening somewhat. "Hey, what happened to your face?"
"M-my face?" Maddi repeated.
"Yeah," sheila said, mashing her left breast down with both arms so she could get a more unobstructed view of Maddi's face. "Your face is all red..."
"It's n-nothing," Maddi said, reaching a hand up to cover her cheek. It must still be red from when she'd slapped herself, she realized.
"Doesn't look like nothing from where I'm sitting, Maddi," Sheila said. "Are you running a fever or something? Someone's pefume give you an allergy?"
"It's nothi-hee-hing, I'm f-fine," Maddi insisted.
"Is it blush?" Sheila pressed. "One of the customers cop a feel?"
"S-something like- heh- like that," Maddi said, seizing on a chance to change topics. "Some- pfft!- some ta-ha-hart shoved a bill in my, well, be-hee-tween-"
"Stuffed the tip in your boobs, huh?" Sheila finished, releasing her left breast from its deformation. "Yeah, I've been there. People love flipping quarters into the canyon, and I've had a few tips shoved so deep in I couldn't even reach them myself. There's a picture around here somehwere, a couple weeks after I got promoted to the bar, of one of the hosts waist-deep in my boobs trying to fish some poor drunk guy's glasses out of there."
"Gla-ha-asses?" Maddi asked.
"Poor guy fell coming out of the bar, accidentally missed a step. And I don't mean 'accidentally' with air quotes, I get enough of those to know the signs. No hands up to coincidentally cop a feel, no held breath like they're about to go spelunking. Poor fella was watching me as I approached the bar after lunch and straight-up didn't take the step. Pitched forwaward and landed between the girls like a little tan lawn dart." Sheila giggled at the recollection. "So he stumbles back out of my boobs, starts apologizing, but I can already feel he's left something behind. I can't reach, he's mortified of even looking at me, and so I had to get one of the hosts to dig it out. And of course, Trixie, with that little digital camera she keeps tucked uder her boobs, just had to happen along and immortalize the moment." Sheila rolled her eyes and smirked again.
"The ho-ha-hosts, those are with the b-bla- a-heh!- black vests?"
"Black and orange, yeah," Sheila nodded. "Black and red is the bartenders." Maddi nodded, and they listened to the idle chatter of the other servers, Maddi once again wondering at how remarkably crowded the lounge was for how few individual people were inside it. But nevertheless, the walls were packed with soft, round spheres of grotesquely oversized sexual features, like the unrealistic scribbles of some hormone-crazed adolescent.
"...What do you care, anyways?" Sheila asked, pulling Maddi from her thoughts.
"Wh-wha-ha-hat do you mean?" Maddi asked.
"The only time you've cared about anyone- or anything- at this restaurant so far is when it's upset you," Sheila said. "You don't talk to anyone, you don't ask how they're doing- at least, not that I've seen- and now all of a sudden you're wondering about the hosts? You never see them back here, their little breakroom is up at the front, tucked in next to the gold room."
"I was me- hee-hee- merely curious," Maddi said, blushing a bit.
"The only thing you've been curious about this place is if you could burn it down and get away with it," Sheila said, giving Maddi a skeptical look. "What is it really? You hot for one of the hosts?"
"Pffphbptbt!" Maddi sputtered, laughing in spite of herself. "Sheila!"
"Is is Hank? Is Hank on tonight?" Sheila asked, craning her neck to try and see the staff calendear. "It's Hank, isn't it? He's got those shoulders, man I could build a treehouse on those things and just move in."
"No-ho-ho! N-Nothing like tha-ha-hat!" Maddi said, indignant.
"Whatever you say..." Sheila said, winking.

The conversation was mercifully interrupted by their food arriving. Maddi took some extra napkins and did her best to avoid getting crumbs down her front, which was hindered somewhat by her giggling every time the napkin brushed her bosom. Still, Sheila was true to her word; It was rather tasty, if a bit dry.
"So if it's not Hank who do you have the hots for?" Sheila asked, setting her milkshake in her cleavage and fishing the last fries from the basket perched on her right breast.
"Oh, g-goodness-s..." Maddi said, rolling her eyes and tilting her head back. So much for a reprieve.
"It's got to be something like that, or you wouldn't care," Sheila said, grinning. "Unless..." She continued, adopting a look of faux-epiphany, "unless you've somehow started to... *like* this place?"
"Don't be-hee-hee ridiculous," Maddi said. "If you m-*must* know-ho, I met one of the hosts- snrk!-, and he seemed like a nice- heh- fellow, th-that's it. Nothing remo-ho-hee-hee-tely romantic- herm!- at all. Even saying the word 'roma-ha-hance' in this p-place seems- a-heh!- like an insult t-to the word."
"Who was he?" Sheila asked.
"An- uh-herm!- Anthony was his name." Maddi said. "And buh-be-hee-hee-before you ask anything- pfft!- further, we-hee didn't sp-phphbph-peak beyond n-normal p-p- pwah-ha-ha!- pleasantries," She finished, carefully balling all her crumbs into a napkin.
"If you say so," Sheila said as she finished off her Milkshake. Her feet disappeared inside her cleavage as she began the elaborate ritual involved in standing herself up again. "Still," She said as she heaved her enormous bosom off the ground, "It's nice to see there's at least someone besides me you don't hate here."
"Th-that's not-" Maddi started, before the sensation of Sheila's enormous breasts brushing past her own rendered her incapable of speech.
Was it true, Maddi wondered as she followed Sheila out of the lounge? She didn't consider herself mean-spirited, certainly not hateful. But it wasn't as if there was much to feel joyful about in her situation, certainly not with Trixie, doubly so with Riley, and that Penelope woman wasn't exactly "welcoming" in the proper sense. And it wasn't as though she had anything *against* the cooks and the bartenders and so forth- aside from working in a madhouse, she supposed.
So, no. Sheila was wrong- it wasn't that she had it out for the restaurant, it was that the restaurant had it out for her. Save for Sheila and Anthony, she hadn't heard a sympathetic word from anyone since she started.

The restauraunt seemed more than happy to bear out her hypothesis the rest of the night. While nothing so horrible as the tart with the tip or the grumpy bald-headed man, it was simply a msierable job, especially with that damnable tonic coursing through her veins. Didn't that break some sort of law, maddi wondered? Americans love to sue, surely she'd have grounds for something?
But even entertaining fantasies of sending the restaurant spiraling into financial ruin couldn't speed the hands of the clock any. Maddi continued to do her duties, distasteful as they were to her. At least she was getting better at them, Maddi thought grimly. Though the act of using her bum for a serving platter and her cleavage for a cocktail shaker made her miserable, she wouldn't give Trixie the satisfaction of seeing her fail at it. She tried to resist thinking the job was beneath her- Maddi's mother always scolded her and her brother (But mostly her brother) about not letting their station supercede their manners. But it wasn't the labour, Maddi thought- it was the means. She'd have little complaint about having to work in a nice restaurant, or even one of those awful American-style "family" restaurants, but *here*, half a step above a strip club, if that? It wasn't just distasteful, it was improper.

Finally, the dining room emptied and it was time to go. Maddi had spent the last half-hour standing still as a statue, trying not to move anything or touch anything. Her face positively throbbed with ache from all the laughing, and finally being free of the damned tonic for another night was the closest thing she'd felt to genuine happiness since she'd left their apartment. Maddi hurried to the locker room and changed out of her uniform as quickly as she could, her shirt letting out a few plaintive creaks as she stretched the hem too far over her not-yet fully deflated bosom.
"Come on then, can't you stuff those things in there any faster?" She asked Sheila, who was patiently waiting for her chest to shrink down enough she could get her bra over it.
"Maddi, I couldn't even grab the steering wheel around them at this size!" Sheila said, gving an incredulous laugh. "Just hold your horses!"
Maddi "Hmph-ed" as she was finally able to squeeze her pants up the rest of the way over her bum, fastening them up and picking up her Juggalos clothes to throw in the hamper. She paused as she was about to throw them, remembering the tip in her pants. She reached into one of the saddlebags, finding the cumpled bill mashed into the bottom corner of the huge pocket, and pulled it out. No doubt Trixie had laid claim to her share of the gratuities since she began, but what she didn't know wouldn't hurt her, right? Maddi crumpled the bill in her fist and slid it into the back pocket of her jeans.
"Not enough for a therapist to fix me up after this is all over, but it's a start," Maddi thought as she waited for Sheila to finish dressing, glad the night was over.

[DanTails]

That's a very emotional chapter... I could never imagine how maddening that a constant stream of uncontrolled laughter would be, I remember being tickled against my will constantly as a kid until it hurt, bad, and the thought of laughing so hard she had to cause pain just to relieve it... man, that's borderline torture, that this place can get away with it...

Of course, I'm not a fan of my own character being the grand Mistress of torture, but I understand the need for one.

As for the picture.. well, one of my favorite things about all these pictures is that they are slice of life portions of these titanically huge girls... it's not just another pin up "oh look at me and how sexy I can be", it's them actually in (kinda) realistic situations, doing things people can do. Which might make it even sexier in a way. It's a wonder to see huge art that's not just constant pin ups. (Not that I mind the pin ups at all... just that a change of pace, she is nice)

....but the thought of Riley's laughter will give me nightmares tonight.

[cyero]

I sense sexual tension. Moreso, that is.

[hmmm!]

Thanks, Dan. That's a pretty endearing comment. This was really meant to be an overall emotionally straining chapter, so it's great to hear that you think so.

And thank you for the picture compliment. Makes me feel all good.

..How well did you sleep, what with Riley's laughter echoing in your head?

[hmmm!]

Going back here: http://www.process-productions.com/f...&postcount=167

You'll find a picture I just finished of some of the secondary cast. Specifically, Anthony, Angie, Carlos and Claire.

[silverbolt2012]

Whee! Fan Art for Juggalos with one or two of my characters thrown in for good measure. =P