The brisk winter air swept in from the ocean in chilly gusts that left me clutching my jacket tightly. Despite the cold I couldn’t help but be excited. Two full weeks in a tent with my roommates was more than worth the time away from the lab. The idea of a couple weeks outside didn’t sound too bad either. With the relentless hours Priscilla had worked me I’d rarely seen the sun or much of Molly and Britta for that matter. 

Molly sighed irritably for what seemed like the tenth time in as many minutes. “What is taking her so long?” 

I was in too good a mood to let Molly’s irritation get to me. “The ferry doesn’t leave for another twenty minutes, she has time.” Molly grumbled something beneath her breath and I had to suppress a smile. Telling her she looked adorable when mad was a good way to get her irritation aimed at me, so instead I said “Let’s see if we can find a brochure or something. Knowing the island could be advantageous.” Molly only nodded, still scowling.

It didn’t take long to find what we were looking for. The docks had all sorts of tour information and guides and the most difficult part was sorting the advertisements from the information. Finally I found a brochure that was for people who wanted to visit the island without a guided tour. It turned out the park had some interesting history.

Seraphim State Park was built on what used to be called Angel Island. Its naturally mountainous terrain kept it above water when sea level rose up to claim swaths of old San Francisco. A handful of wealthy preservationists enacted in a bold plan to keep the park above water using bio-engineered coral that buoyed as the water level rose. There was a bunch of information about the coral being anchored to the original angel island, the transfer of topsoil, and other geological achievements that I skimmed over.

The section concerning the current island contained the information I was looking for. The center of the island stayed true to the Angel Island in that it held a forested mountain, but the Seraphim version had made some interesting additions. Most notably the new island was more than triple the size of the original, and a large part of that was sandy beaches. Other additions included multiple camping areas, a cliff called Lucifer’s Fall (a name I could only shake my head at), and an ocean observatory with an underwater section for monitoring the land anchors and other oceanographic science. 
While I was happy to escape from work the thought of conducting research in an underwater lab sounded pretty cool. Almost like a secret base or something. Molly shouted and I nearly jumped in surprise.

“We’re over here!” Molly shouted again, waving her arms as she jumped up and down. There was no one around us to block the view of her but I guessed it was a habit from being so short. Molly was one a very few people I was taller than and considering I was barely over 5 feet tall myself- that was saying something. The shuttle was disgorging passengers onto the sidewalk and it I didn’t have to wait long to see who Molly was waving at. 

The bottom of the shuttle dipped below the curb as Britta stepped off then rebounded as her weight transferred to the sidewalk, leaving the entire shuttle bouncing and shaking as though someone was trying to tip it over. She looked our way and grinned but all I could do in return was gape. Britta had grown since I’d last seen her. Priscilla was intimidating at seven feet tall but nothing could have prepared me for the feeling of insignificance that rolled over me as Britta approached, happily munching away at a bag of potato chips. When she got a little closer I realized it was not one of the little individual bags people usually ate either, she was munching on a family sized bag of chips as though she planned to finish it. As if to confirm my suspicion she peered disappointedly into the bag before crumpling it up and tossing it into a recycling bin. 

Up close I could hardly believe how massive Britta had become. Her thighs were wider than my torso by far, just one leg probably weighed more than I did. Hips wide enough to hide two of me standing shoulder to shoulder narrowed at her waist before flaring back out to support the massive set of tits that loomed over me. Priscilla was voluptuous, but Britta was downright pornographic. Her blimp-like mammaries were level with the top of my head and each was larger than it by a fair margin. A thick strap covered a portion of astonishing cleavage and secured a large duffel to her back. It was more than twice the size of the backpack I was carrying. Standing as close as she was now I couldn’t see her face over her incredible bust.

“... so we got past the prelims automatically due to good grades.” Molly was saying.

“So there are more teams?” Britta said, sounding confused.

Molly sighed in a way I was all too familiar with. “Duh. That’s what I’ve been saying, it’s not eight teams its sixteen.” Sixteen teams? I wasn’t too familiar with the game but sixteen sounded like a lot. 

“I see,” Britta rumbled. Her voice had become a touch bassier, but in a pleasant way. “Well, I’m not waiting for the ferry to get here to set this bag down, I’m tired of carrying it.” Before I realized what was happening Britta pulled the strap over her head and shoved the bag into my arms. “Here you go, Dylan.” Immediately I struggled to bear the incredible weight- it must have be more than a hundred pounds! Sheer terror gripped me as I toppled backwards under the load, certain I would be crushed into the pavement. Just as quickly as she handed it off Britta scooped the bag off my chest, for a brief moment I was suspended over the pavement before I realized my death grip on the duffel’s canvas was unnecessary. I dropped back to the ground and took a few calming breaths before realizing Britta and Molly both were laughing hysterically. 

“Oh Dylan,” Britta said, shaking with laughter, “If you could have seen the look on your face.” She continued laughing until a stitch in her side caused her to bend over, revealing a wobbling crevasse of cleavage I could hide an arm in. Wiping a tear from her eye Britta looked at me and said, “Oh don’t be like that, this bag probably weighs as much as you do. I was just having some fun.” 

“Why do I get the feeling that you’re going to be picking on me all break?” I said over Molly who had begun snorting with laughter. 

“Hmm,” Britta said, her laughter finally subsiding. “I think maybe you’ll like how I pick on you. We’ll have all sorts of fun.” She gave a very pointed look down at her cleavage before she held my gaze with a mischievous smile that I suddenly found myself returning. It was impossible to stay mad at Britta, she was too playful to be cruel and if she was a bit pushy… well, she was used to being a big girl and getting her way. Only now she was a REALLY big girl. A horn sounded somewhere nearby.

“I think that’s us.” Molly said, peering across the dock on her tiptoes. 

I let myself lag behind the girls as we made our way to the ferry, admiring Britta’s tremendous backside shifting from side to side. Half-way down the dock she turned her head and said, “See? I even packed my beach balls.” When I realized she was referring to the gigantic globes of her ass we shared a laugh.

All sorts of fun indeed.

***

The ferry ride to Seraphim Island was uneventful. One of the other teams was aboard but they kept their distance. I recognized one of the girls from the GTS study right away. Latoya Berkley sat between two boys that were clearly vying for her attention. At over six feet tall it wasn’t hard to see why. She had curves that rivaled Britta’s (at least Britta before she started growing) and dark, coffee colored skin that she wasn’t shy about showing off. They occasionally shot glances in our direction before turning to speak to each other in hushed tones. When I started in their direction all three of them turned around to face pointedly away. Molly explained a lot of people were taking the game pretty seriously. Apparently fraternizing with the enemy was off the table. The rest of the trip was made in silence.

Sparkling white sand and towering palm trees were a welcome sight when they rose into view. We docked at a small port and shouldered our heavy packs in preparation for a hike. Britta was the last off and the ferry lurched nearly as badly as the shuttle had when she stepped onto the gangplank. We weren’t three steps from the boat when she held us up to pull another full sized bag of chips from her duffel. “What?” she challenged, noticing my raised eyebrow. “It takes a lot to maintain this girlish figure.” She gestured broadly at her expansive curves.

“I have no doubt.” I said wryly. Something like amusement sparked in Britta’s eyes. I hoped it was amusement.

“You’re gonna regret that later,” Molly said, giving me a smug look. 

“Yeah yeah.” I said, waving them forward. “Let’s just get to wherever we need to go.” 

“Wait.’ Molly said just as I turned. “The rules state the team captain has to carry all of the packs to the campsite. It’s symbolic of supporting the team.” She paused for effect before continuing, “I can’t do it and we know Dylan can’t either.” I couldn’t wait to wipe that smug smile off her face. “So that leaves Britta. You have to be captain.” Neither Britta or I had done more than skim the rules. I was hoping orientation the following day would explain everything, until then Molly was our best resource. 

“Seriously?” Britta sounded none too pleased. 

“It’s either that or we leave our stuff here. It’s your own fault you packed half the pantry.” I was shocked to hear Molly call Britta out, especially after the warning she’d just given me but there it was. Britta seemed unperturbed, only sighing at having to stow her chips when we handed over our bags.

I felt bad. Even with the prank Britta had pulled earlier my bag was over thirty pounds and I knew Molly’s wasn’t much lighter. Molly had explained earlier that each survivor could bring one bag with as much as they could carry. I’d packed two changes of clothes, food, a compass, and a few other odds and ends I hoped would be useful. I suspected we’d all done about the same and regretted we hadn’t coordinated who should bring what. 

Heavy bags or no, Britta set the pace as we left the beach for the line of trees, her long strides eating up as much ground as two of mine. The sun was high in the sky and the chill ocean breeze gave way to a muggy heat. We stopped briefly to allow Molly and I to peel off our outer layer of clothes and continue on in t-shirts. After that Britta maintained a solid pace, marching through dense undergrowth before the terrain changed again and we began hiking upward into foothills. Britta slowed considerably as we climbed, and before long she was breathing hard. I said, “We don’t have to race, the contest doesn’t officially start until tomorrow right?” I glanced at Molly, who nodded in reply. Britta didn’t stop or look back.

“If we stop I won’t want to start again,” she panted. “The sooner we get this over with the better.”

That was the end of conversation until we reached a dirt road that cut through the undergrowth parallel to the mountain. We stopped long enough for Molly to pull out a map and point us off to the right. The worst of the climb was over but Britta was pouring sweat and looked ready to collapse under the weight of the three packs. I had to say something, “I doubt they meant one person had to carry all three packs at once. You’re probably allowed to make trips.” 

“No! She has to carry everything!” Molly said quickly then paused, maybe realizing how alarmed she had sounded. She continued in a somewhat embarrassed tone, “I mean... that’s what the rules say.”

Britta’s eyes narrowed suspiciously for a moment before she turned and said, “That’s that then.”


Fortunately, we didn’t have much further to go. Britta stumbled into camp and had to catch herself on a tree. She shifted the bags to the ground while she caught her breath. I was breathing hard myself, a semester spent cooped indoors had taken its toll on my stamina but I could only imagine how Britta felt. Molly at least seemed in good condition, a light sheen of perspiration shone on her forehead but she wasn’t breathing hard. 

Britta finally regained enough composure to push away from the tree and address us, “Now, that’s done with. My first order as team captain is to get camp ready. Molly, pitch the tent. Dylan, come help me unpack.”

After handing off the tent (apparently they had coordinated who would carry that) Britta pulled me aside to organize our supplies. “I’ll take care of unpacking, I want you to read through this,” Britta handed me the rulebook. “The parts about preparation and getting to the event.” I shot her a questioning look but she’d already turned away to unpack.

Reading through the rules that didn’t concern the main portion of the contest didn’t take long. When I finished I looked over to see Britta propped against a tree hungrily spooning food out of a large can. “Was there anything you wanted to know specifically? The only things it mentions aside from being allowed to bring a bag is a banned items list and a reminder to follow whatever instructions the administrators give us.”

Britta stopped stuffing her face. “Nothing about the captain having to carry everyone’s bags?” That amused spark was back in her eye.

“No,” I said, suddenly uncertain. “I don’t think so, do you think Molly just misinterpreted something?” Britta had already gone back to eating and only shrugged in response. Whatever was going on she didn’t seem in any rush to discuss it so I set to unpacking my own bag while I waited for her to finish eating. I couldn’t get it out of my head that something was going on between Britta and Molly, but I had no idea what.

“Ahh, that hit the spot.” Britta said after a while. She set the can aside with a hollow thunk and said, “I heard the the other girls in the lab talking last week, I think most of them are here on the island. Maybe all of them.”

“Really?” I set my bag aside to stare at Britta. “All of them?”

“I think everyone wanted to show off their new physique what better way to that then at a recorded event. They are filming all of the challenges and who could pass up the chance to get seen by so many people?” She laughed when I raised my hand. “Well, you’re not a teenage girl with delusions of grandeur. That aside, I think it will be fun.”

I smiled back. “I think so too.”

“If you two are done sharing a moment- the tent is ready.” Molly said peevishly. What had crawled up her butt? Was she jealous Britta was spending a little time with me instead of her? That was ridiculous… But if true the next couple weeks were going to be rockier than I had hoped. 

“We can’t go to bed yet anyway. Why don’t we start a fire and see if we can come up with a plan.” Britta said, but she didn’t get up. Clearly starting the fire was a job for someone else and one look at Molly convinced me I’d rather be somewhere else anyway. 

Gathering wood didn’t take long, but tinder proved to be a challenge. I finally settled for snapping a few twigs from a dying shrub. Molly had matches that worked for getting the fire started and after that the rest was simple. Before long we were gathered around the fire exchanging stories. The weather was warm without being stifling and the air was rich with the scent of trees and flowers. Even Molly couldn’t stay mad.

As midday gave way to evening we were all smiling and laughing so much that for a while I forgot all about GTS and its dangers. I forgot about the city, miles distant, and the impossibly tall towers of the Millennial visible through gaps in the trees. Maybe, even if for only a moment, I forgot about Priscilla and the mess I was in. Out on the island it felt like no could hold us accountable.

We ate as the sun dipped below the horizon and by the flickering light of the fire I noticed what Britta was eating. She caught me looking and raised a conspiratorial finger to her lips. I glanced at Molly who was focused on her own food and shrugged. Whatever was going on between those two I wasn’t sure I wanted to find out. After that Britta did a better job at keeping the label on her can hidden. When we finished eating Britta announced it was time to pack it in.

“It’s still early,” I said. “The sun just went down.”

“We don’t know how early they are going to come to camp to wake us up so we should get to bed sooner than later.” Britta replied, making a show of yawning and stretching. It was impossible not to watch her huge breasts strain against her tanktop. Molly caught me looking but rather than give me a hard time she only smiled. The fire really had improved her mood and I was a little sad when I doused it. 

The tent was made for a family but it was still a bit of a tight fit. Molly and I were small but Britta was so tall she had to lie at an angle through the middle of the tent which left Molly and I an awkward triangular space to either side of her. It wasn’t cramped exactly, but it was cosy. 

Thankfully, no one had forgotten their sleeping bag. Britta’s was a plaid monstrosity that I joked she’d stolen from Paul Bunyan. I was a bit disappointed when both girls jumped in with their clothes on but before long Molly’s clothes began ejecting from the top of her bag. No ‘bonus adventures’ tonight I thought disappointedly. Then Britta emerged from her bag with only a bra and panties on. 

The brassiere had enough fabric to make Molly a shirt and the panties could have made an entire dress. They were both tight on Britta. Black satiny material strained around her abundant curves and little crescents of breast pooched out near her armpits where the bra failed to accommodate their size. I would have given anything to read the tag, the bra was enormous but Britta was even bigger! As I watched Britta shifted over towards Molly’s sleeping bag then slid her huge butt over the opening. Molly was preoccupied with disrobing and didn’t notice until Britta had firmly sealed the exit to her bag. 

“Uhh… Britta?” Molly’s muffled voice was muffled.

“My dinner was great, how was yours Dylan?” Britta said as though Molly had not spoken.

“It was fine,” I said absently, wondering what Britta was up to.

“Molly, do you know what I had for dinner?” Britta said. Her grin was pure evil.

“No…” Molly’s muffled voice was hesitant. conveying the same sense of ‘where are you going with this’ that I felt.

“Well you’re about to find out!” Britta trilled gleefully. Before I could guess what she meant a deep rumbling sound thundered from beneath Britta. Had she just… Molly began to wail.

“Britta, noooooooo!” Molly whined loudly. “Oh god Britta it’s awful how could y-” This time the rumbling sound was accompanied by an unmistakable ripping- Britta was cutting a massive fart! Shock must have been plain on my face because Britta looked at me then threw back her head and laughed wickedly. Suddenly it became clear why she would want to hide eating pork and beans from Molly. “Stop Britta, please oh god it stinks jesus Britta you’re GROSS!” Judging by the way the surface of the bag was flexing Molly was struggling now. Her complaints continued in an unbroken stream.

Britta spoke over her, “Did you enjoy watching your big strong girlfriend carry those big, heavy bags all the way to camp?” Molly fell suddenly silent. Britta looked at me, grinning. “Little Molly just loves when her big strong girlfriend uses her big muscles for her. It really gets her juices flowing.” Smiling even wider, if that was possible, Britta extended a finger towards me. I wasn’t sure I wanted any part of this but then I remembered the smug looks Molly had given me earlier. Maybe a little payback was in order after all. I pulled Britta’s finger.

A rumbling explosion of gas was quickly overwhelmed by Molly’s wailing voice, “NO BRITTA PLEASE STOP” *cough* “YOU KNOW I” *cough* “HATE THIS” *cough*. I started to feel a little bad for her. Britta on the other hand was relentless, discharging blast after heinous blast into the sealed sleeping bag. Suddenly, after a particularly rank sounding emission, Molly’s tone changed dramatically. With panic in her voice she said, “Britta… let me out. Right. Now.” Britta moved aside and Molly darted from her sleeping bag not sparing a glance at either of us as she ran out of the tent. 

The sounds of her heaving up dinner caused me to turn in shock but Britta only returned a satisfied smile. I decided to reassess what Britta was capable of. As though reading my thoughts she said, “Oh don’t give me that look. Molly would enjoy almost any punishment I gave her. This is one of the only options I have if I really want to make her sorry.”

I guess that made sense. Molly openly craved being dominated as much as I secretly craved it. Still, Britta’s methods were… creative to say the least. I wondered if I would be able to look at her the same after this. Thinking on it a bit more I realized that if anything this cemented my impression of Britta. She was comfortable being the freak, the center of attention, and most of all- herself. I suspected Britta’s personality wouldn’t change if she had been Molly’s size or twice as big as she was now. The latter caused me to shudder involuntarily.

When Molly returned to the tent she gave a Britta a dark look but when she turned to me she actually flushed in embarrassment. Britta held Molly’s bag open for her and I caught a whiff of the sulfuric stench that had been deployed earlier. It was enough to make me drop my nose beneath my own bag. Molly must have noticed too because her nose crinkled and her face went pale. I thought she might run back outside for a second but she seemed to regain composure and managed to shake her head.

Britta looked amused. “I guess I can let you sleep with me tonight, but only if you promise to be a good girl.”

At once Molly was demure and meek as a kitten “I’ll be a good girl, Britta.”

“That means no more dirty looks at Dylan.”

“What! I didn’t-” indignation flared on Molly’s face before she caught Britta’s flat stare. The next moment her eyes were on the ground and she mumbled, “I’ll be nice to Dylan too.” 

“Good girl,” Britta said warmly and opened her bag for Molly to slide in. I felt a momentary pang of awkwardness, like I was a voyeur in someone else’s intimate life. Britta and Molly were showing me parts of themselves they probably never showed anyone except each other. Slowly the awkward feeling gave way to something else. It felt good to be in their confidence, like I belonged. I wasn’t even that jealous when Molly slid out of sight into Britta’s sleeping bag.

“Goodnight Britta, Goodnight Molly.” I said, letting my eyes close.

“Goodnight Dylan,” Molly murmured softly. 

A long silence was punctuated by a sharp hissing sound rising from Britta’s sleeping bag.

“Damnit, BRITTA!”

I smiled, already drifting off to sleep. Nope, not jealous at all.