Tiny Tina

Tina's trouble was with her tits or, rather, her lack of tits. Tina wasn't blessed with a bountiful bosom. She had suffered through high school being called such names as "backboard," "No tits Tina," "Fun sized with a flatty," and "Nipple tits". While her classmates' chests grew to handfuls and larger, Tina still had a set of tits that would make an adolescent cry.

Tina bemoaned her lack of breasts to her mother, who simply consoled her daughter with words such as, "Not all girls are meant to have big ones." or "You should be proud of them. They suit you just fine." That was easy for someone with a pair of nice tits to say, but it didn't help Tina's body image.

Tina complained to her father, who squirmed uncomfortably and offered words such as, "You're very pretty, honey. You don't need big boobs to get by in life."

Tina, however, did not believe it. A girl with no tits was hardly a girl at all, in her opinion. All of her favorite singers, like Bratty Brit, Kelsey Cans, and Saler Grift all had sets of big, round tits. The girls Tina worked with at Petsy the Peddler's shop all had melons of normal or larger size.

Katie had even been promoted to floor manager after only two months, and it wasn't because Katie was smart or worked hard. Tina was convinced it was because Petsy couldn't stop staring at Katie's big jugs, which she showed off in tight V-neck tops every day. Tina was further of the opinion that Katie and Charlotte's stronger sales figures came down to their tits, which the male patrons couldn't take their eyes off of.

Tits were not just an important thing to have; tits were one of those features that got one ahead in life, and if Tina was ever going to amount to anything, she had to have tits. Unfortunately, going into the summer before her freshman year of college, Tina still had embarrassingly small breasts.

Her impending first year of college was simply one more reason Tina felt agitated about her tits. She'd start her freshman year looking like a child in a grown-up world. The boys would want to date girls with big tits or even a generous handful. No one would want to date Tina and her tiny tits, just like in high school. Furthermore, the teachers would be harder on her, while the girls with large melons would have it easy.

It was while Tina sat lamenting her lack of tits once again, watching TV with her brother, Kevin, that a ray of hope came from an unexpected source. Kevin, older than Tina by two years, did little to assuage Tina's concerns over her breasts. Kevin was a tit man.

On the TV was an episode of Bikini Baddies, a comedy series in which scantily clad beauties worked as undercover crime stoppers on the sandy beaches of Miami. All of the Bikini Baddies had tits. Big tits. Tits that wobbled, bounced, and were the sole reason for the show's great ratings. It was simply further evidence to Tina that tits were what got a girl places.

It was not that Kevin did anything to exacerbate his sister's plight. He was not mean, and he didn't tease his sister about her lack of tits. However, when he listened to Tina's complaints, he simply nodded along, and offered words such as, "Well, a nice rack is definitely a plus," or "There are plenty of guys who are into small ones. Don't let it get you down."

Kevin also had his own obsession, which Tina found a bit ridiculous, but she supposed everyone had their thing. After all, she recognized she had an unhealthy obsession with her tits. Kevin's "thing" was his scratch-off tickets. Her brother loved playing scratch-off lottery tickets, and he purchased them every day.

"Someday," he'd say, "I'm going to hit a big one."

Kevin had never hit a big one. He regularly won small amounts—$1, $5, $30, and once even a $500 win. Tonight, however, Kevin stood up abruptly from the recliner he sat in. Even the sight of the Bikini Baddies chasing down a criminal on a pair of pogo sticks couldn't distract Tina's brother from the ticket in his hand.

His mouth hung open. His eyes were wide.

"Holy fuck," he whispered. Then more loudly, he declared, "Holy fucking shit!"

This exclamation at last drew Tina's attention away from the TV.

"What?" she asked.

"I can't believe it," Kevin stammered.

"What?"

"I got it," he said. "The big one."

"Good job," Tina muttered. "Now you can finally buy yourself a friend. As long as he costs less than a grand."

"I got it," Kevin said again, bewildered. "The big one."

It was only then that Tina actually paused long enough to take in her brother's complete and utter shock.

"How big?" she asked.

"The jackpot," Kevin said. "Fifty grand!"

Tina blinked in surprise and repeated, "Fifty? Like fifty thousand. Dollars?"

"No, seashells dumbass. Yes! Fucking dollars. Fifty. Thousand. Dollars!"

Silence hung in the air, broken only by the sound of the criminal on TV "complaining" about being treated roughly by the Bikini Baddies, who were sandwiching his face between two sets of massive tits in their attempt to subdue him.

"Bullshit," Tina then said.

Kevin walked over, showed her the ticket, and said, "Fifty grand!"

It was true. Kevin had hit the jackpot.

"No way!" she cried. "No way!"

"Fucking, way! Shit! Goodbye, knock-off rims. Hello Lexanis!"

As Kevin pumped his fist in the air, it was now Tina who was in disbelief.

"Wheels?" she said. "You're going to buy wheels?"

"Well, I still have to pay some tax, but it will be more than enough for a full set!"

Of course, watching her brother wave his ticket triumphantly, the only thing Tina could think about was her tits. That ticket was a set of tits. It was a set of glorious, life-changing knockers. And Kevin was going to put a set of chrome wheels on his shitty Jeep. It wasn't fair.

"Kevin!" Tina shouted. "Please. Please! You can't buy wheels!"

Kevin stopped waving the ticket and asked, "Why?"

Tina had never begged for anything. She had never groveled. She had, on several occasions, prayed to a God she didn't believe in for tits, but she had never before fallen on her knees and begged another person for something.

That, however, changed in an instant. Tina slid from the couch, got down on her knees, folded her hands, and looked up at her brother with the neediest, most doe-eyed, purely pathetic expression she could muster.

"Kevin, I've never asked you for anything," she said. "I've never been a shitty sister. I even helped you hook up with Amber Creek."

"She never put out," Kevin said wistfully. "God, I never even got to feel those big, juicy… Oh. Oh! Is this about your—"

"Please! You can buy me a boob job!" Tina blurted. "Kevin, please!"

Kevin looked at the ticket in his hand. He looked out the window, where his Jeep was parked in the driveway. He looked at the dirty set of generic wheels on the Jeep. Then he looked down at his sister's wide-eyed, pleading face. That cute little face. And he imagined her with a big set of tits.

He waffled. He hesitated. He looked from Tina to the ticket to the Jeep, and back to Tina.

"I don't know," he said. "Look, I still have to cash it in. It's going to take a few days, right? Let me think about it."

"Please," Tina begged again. "Please! I'll… I'll do all your chores for the rest of your life! I'll make payments back to you! Like a loan! I'll do all your homework!"

"You can't do my homework," Kevin said. "You haven't started college and you're not even going to take the same classes."

"I'll switch my major! I'll take the same classes. Please, Kevin! You have to buy me boobs!"

Kevin sighed, looked at the ticket, clutched it tightly, and said, "Let me think about it."