Chapter 26 - Real Curves
When I woke the next morning, I noticed a small trickle of
milk from Kelly's full breasts. Once the flow was started she would
produce milk regularly as long as the demand remained. On the other
hand, it would dry up if not continually nursed. That was plenty of
incentive for me so I carefully leaned over and began to suck on her
erect nipple, pleased with an even greater flow of milk than the
previous night. Kelly murmured contentedly in her sleep, not quite
awake enough to realize what was feeling so good to her. However, my
motion had awakened Billie Jo who joined in at the other nipple as
soon as she realized what I was doing.
"This actually tastes pretty good," Billie Jo said while she
rested between slurps. By this time Kelly was awake and watching us.
"Really?" Kelly asked wistfully.
"Sure," I replied. "Here, taste for yourself."
With that I offered her own nipple to her lips, the
magnificent size of her bust allowing her to reach it easily. At
first she was reluctant, sensing it was somehow improper, but after
all we had been through it was clear that we would try almost anything
that was clean and hurt no one. Her lips began to work at her own
nipple and in a few seconds she began to suck her own milk, swallowing
it in the tiny sips that were generated.
"This does taste pretty good," she confirmed. "I might get
hooked on this."
Her grin was matched by the other two of us, Billie Jo looking
up from her own position nursing at a full tit herself.
"I seem to have lost my place in line," I complained.
"You already had your chance," Billie Jo laughed, but she
quickly returned to her pleasant breakfast to forestall any attempt I
might make to take her place.
I had indeed enjoyed several minutes of solitary sipping and
probably got as much as anyone since even Kelly's wonderful breasts
only held a finite amount. After a short while, the two women would
drain Kelly's supply and we would all have to wait until she
regenerated more.
While they completed their morning meal, I went to the
bathroom and cleaned myself up. I could cover most areas of my own
shaving, blessed naturally with only minimal back hair and faint arm
hair that didn't need shaving. Only the hairs surrounding my anus
were out of my reach, and I didn't need to do those every day. It
still took a while though, and when I returned to the bedroom, the
ladies were locked in a passionate embrace, the scent of women's
arousal hanging in the air.
"You started without me," I accused, provoking satisfied
smiles from the occupants of the bed.
"Yep," Kelly proudly declared. "Now we can both concentrate
on you."
With that promise she pulled me down on top of them and in a
few minutes I was on my back, being kissed madly by one hot woman
while another tried to suck my toes out through my cock. Every few
minutes they would switch positions, this time at their decision,
myself helplessly captured by the wild women in my bed. I kissed
whatever came in reach and was kissed all over my freshly shaved body.
Various warm and wet orifices captured my raging erection, finally
triggering a massive burst when I couldn't hold back any longer.
"Now, do you still want to complain about our plan for the
morning?" Billie Jo demanded with a chuckle.
"Mmm, I just want to try and think about breathing," I sighed
languidly. "You know, in, out, in, out. That takes about all the
mental power I can conjure up right now."
The ladies laughed and went off to take care of their own
morning cleanup, though I held Kelly back long enough to lace me
tightly into a dark red corset. I completed my makeup along with the
remainder of my dressing by the time they returned from the bathroom,
scrubbed and glowing. For this morning I had selected the
body-conscious red knit dress I had worn the day that I had decided to
be Brandy on a permanent basis, complete with the wide black belt and
choker accents. I was looking good, and feeling good, ready to take
on the world, especially with my two beautiful companions.
We allowed Billie Jo to lace Kelly into her own corset, which
she did with cheerful energy, but when Kelly turned around displaying
her spectacular figure, a frown appeared on Billie Jo's face,
accompanied by a sigh.
"What's the matter, beautiful?" I asked.
"That's just it," she sighed again. "Kelly is so beautiful,
but I might as well be a boy. Even you have a better figure than I
do."
"Well," I said gently, "mine is kind of artificial. If you
want a fake bust, we can arrange it."
"Not really," she sighed once again, falling into a habit. "I
really want to have bigger tits, not as spectacular as Kelly, maybe,
but I could have a lot less than her and still be a lot bigger than I
am."
I gave her a gentle hug and said to Kelly, "All right,
gorgeous, your business brings you in contact with the best
professionals in town. Who's the top cosmetic surgeon?"
"Dr. Erik Sanford," she replied without hesitation. "At least
for bust enhancements and other body changes. You're not thinking
about touching your pretty face are you, Billie Jo?"
"No," she replied. "I just want a more feminine figure."
"Then Dr. Sanford's your man," Kelly affirmed.
"There you are, Billie Jo. If you want a bigger bust, you
just have to do what it takes to get one," I said.
"Oh, I never thought about plastic surgery," she mused. "I'd
be too embarrassed."
"Why?" Kelly asked. "Be who you want to be. If there's
anything I've learned from the last few months, it's that the only
things to regret are those you don't try. Would you have believed how
much fun bondage is, if you hadn't tried it? Or men? Look, I'll go
with you to the doctor's office. If you get too uncomfortable, we'll
just leave."
Billie Jo looked at her thoughtfully for a few seconds, then
looked up at me. "Brandy, would you come with me? I could never
match Kelly's figure, it wouldn't look right on my body type, anyway,
but your shape is just about perfect for me. I'll go if you come with
me."
For some reason, going into a cosmetic surgeon's office was
both fascinating and frightening. This doctor would be an expert in
appearance and I felt vulnerable to exposure, perhaps ridicule. Yet a
part of my mind wondered if his expert opinion might be valuable in
enhancing or perfecting my own new identity. After a few moments
reflection of my own, I nodded to Billie Jo, agreeing to accompany her
for her consultation.
We went out to brunch, laughing and flirting with the guys we
met, but I decided to return home for that Sunday afternoon rather
than go shopping with the other girls. They wanted to get some
presents for Milady Raven, anyway, so they were just as happy that I
didn't go along. Instead, I spent the day at my computer, catching up
on the investment analysis I owed my clients. Working at home on my
own schedule was wonderful, but the work still had to get done
sometime, even if it allowed me the flexibility to shop during the
week or meet clients while I pretended to be two people. My typical
focus was on technology stocks, principally on the NASDAQ exchange,
and some of those tended to be quite volatile. I kept my client's
holdings diversified enough to keep the total risk under control, but
overall I took a fairly aggressive strategy which is how I managed to
outperform the big Wall Street firms. The price for that strategy was
increased risk, managed by watching the trends very carefully. I had
a knack for it, but it still took time and analysis.
Kelly and Billie Jo got home late in the afternoon and Billie
Jo decided to go to her own house and catch up on her chores, so Kelly
and I shared the evening together. Her tits were full again, so the
first course of our evening meal was provided by my buxom wife, a
surprisingly satisfying appetizer. The rest was a simple salad, more
enjoyable for an evening meal than something heavy, now that we were
used to it. Billie Jo didn't show for our walk that evening, but
Kelly and I worked off the calories of our meal in our usual way,
adding a few blocks to the path to compensate for the rich milk we had
added to our diets. While we were getting ready for bed, I noticed a
small trickle from Kelly's nipples, again, and again took advantage of
it. She seemed to be settling in to at least three meals a day.
"Which one do you want this time?" I asked with a grin.
"I think I'll take the left, if you don't mind," she replied
with mock seriousness.
In reply, I began to suck vigorously on her right nipple,
pulling tiny squirts of warm milk with each tug. While I enjoyed my
snack, I looked at Kelly, bent over her own nipple, her throat working
visibly to pull milk from her ready supply, her eyes closed in
enjoyment of the pleasurable sensations. In my mind, I flashed back
to a time before we had begun rebuilding our lives, remembering the
incipient sag of her heavier body, remembering our stolid, colorless
sex life, remembering my own conservative attitudes about what was
proper or enjoyable. Even though I was not cross-dressed at that
moment as we prepared for bed, the difference in my lean body from the
deterioration I had been facing before was as significant as the outer
clothes I now typically wore. And I would never have imagined nursing
at my own wife's tit, though now it seemed natural and appropriate.
What other assumptions had I made about my life that needed to be
reconsidered?
The next morning we had our liquid breakfast, then dressed.
Even though I would be visiting the doctor's office that day, I
dressed casually in my leather mini and midnight lace blouse rather
than in my women's suit. Of course, my towering heels and beautiful
makeup made even my casual clothes seem elegant and intensely
feminine. Besides, at that time I only had one women's suit. I had
ordered several more, mostly in conservative blues or grays, but one
in a deep wine-red. Each would need special tailoring to shorten the
skirt and allow for my unusual proportions, most notably especially
slim hips. The results would be worth it, as demonstrated by the suit
I did have, but they would take a while.
Kelly arranged the appointment for mid-morning, using her
business contact network to get us an early opportunity, then went to
her own business while I waited for Billie Jo to get ready. She
arrived in one of her old, conservative, long-skirted business suits.
"You're not going to wear that!" I exclaimed.
"Well, yes, I thought I would," she said timidly.
"Not a chance," I declared. "That was the old you, and the
new you doesn't wear clothes like that. No backsliding allowed.
We've made you so intensely feminine that everyone envies you. Be
proud! Now we're going to enhance your curves as well. Be prouder!
Now march!"
I took her by the arm and drug her back to her house, where we
chose her tight leather dress, suitably towering heels, and shining
gold loop earrings to match the ones I wore. I also made her enhance
her makeup to the standards and approach that Kelly had defined before
I would let her leave. We still made it for our appointment, mostly
because I drove in my new 300ZX and took full advantage of it's
performance, and a few minutes before our appointed time Billie Jo was
signing in. In return, she got a stack of paperwork to fill out which
we took over to a pair of seats in the waiting room. The doctor was
running behind, as usual, so we had plenty of time to complete the
forms, mostly establishing financial accountability since most
insurance plans wouldn't pay for purely cosmetic enhancements.
Finally, a nurse called out her name and Billie Jo rose to
follow her. I stayed seated, expecting to wait for her there, but
Billie Jo grabbed my arm.
"Come on," she demanded, "you said you'd go with me."
"Don't you want to see the doctor alone?" I asked.
"Not on a bet!" she declared. "If you won't come with me, I
won't go."
As I stood to follow her, my own breath started to get a
little tight, even beyond the constriction caused by my corset. I
would be under the gaze of expert specialists. If anyone could
penetrate my impersonation of a woman, it would be the doctor or one
of his experienced nurses. However, I had promised so I was
committed.
The nurse waiting at the doorway looked us both over as we
approached. A mirror in the waiting room caught my eye, and I
realized for the first time how much alike Billie Jo and I were.
Without Kelly as a constant distraction, pleasant though she was, I
was able to absorb a little more clearly the similarities between
Billie Jo and myself. We both had lean body types, as I had already
recognized, but I hadn't noticed before how close we were in height as
well. With our towering heels we were both about six feet tall,
accentuating the leanness of our long legs and trim hips. My own
facial bone structure was too strong for a sense of delicacy, not too
different from the spare angularity of Billie Jo, and the makeup
design created for each of us by Kelly's genius worked to soften our
structure. As a result, our faces tended toward the same image. Of
course our clothing style was also similar, with dangerously short
skirts and impossibly tall heels. About the only major difference was
in our hair, mine falling in a glorious cascade to my waist, while
Billie Jo's was cut boyishly short. I hadn't considered us as a pair
until Billie Jo insisted that I accompany her to the examining room,
but once I did I realized we looked like sisters, maybe not in detail,
but certainly as a first impression.
After the single appraising glance as we approached, the nurse
treated us as though there were nothing unusual at all. That probably
was a little forced, since we were certainly an unusual pair even
without the slightest suspicion of just how unusual I was personally.
Our dramatic, sensual clothing style, coupled with striking beauty,
separated us from the ordinary in any situation. Nonetheless, the
nurse seemed to be buying my secret without question, which made me
feel a little better as she escorted us into a standard examining
room.
In a few minutes the doctor entered, young (about our age),
brisk, smiling broadly, reading the notes that had been handed to him.
"Hello!" he said, then looked up from his notes in surprise to see two
women in the room. "Which of you is Miss Doggett?"
Billie Jo nodded while I simultaneously pointed at her. The
doctor's eyes lingered for just a second on me, a quizzical expression
flickering momentarily, before he turned to Billie Jo.
"Well, it's obvious you don't need any facial work," he
complimented her, "and liposuction is just as unnecessary. Whatever
could you need my services for?"
She smiled at his cheerful flattery, but blushed brightly,
embarrassed to start. Billie Jo's eyes pleaded with me to help her
out. I arched an elegant eyebrow at her to confirm that she wanted me
to speak, provoking a sharp nod before she ducked her head to stare at
the floor.
"Billie Jo is my neighbor," I started to explain, noticing
another quizzical expression when the doctor's attention returned to
me as I spoke. What was wrong? I wondered. Could he see through my
appearance to the man within my clothes? I tried to fight down my own
blush, knowing that obvious embarrassment might confirm his
suspicions, if he had any, but I knew at least a little heat was
showing in my cheeks.
"She would like a more feminine shape, specifically some
enhancement to her bust. You have an excellent reputation and she
wanted to hear what you might recommend."
"Can she talk?" Dr. Sanford asked with a grin as he tried a
little humor to reduce the tension in the room.
"Yes, Doctor," Billie Jo said quietly. "Brandy explained it,
though. I want to look more like a woman, more shapely."
"Let me offer you my first bit of advice, then. Don't do
anything. You are wonderfully pretty. If you insist on a bigger
bust, get some good breast forms, they can be quite convincing, but
don't be dissatisfied with the appearance you already have that only
one woman in thousands can match."
Did his eyes flicker toward me for just an instant as he
talked about breast forms? The heat wouldn't leave my cheeks as I
began to interpret every word and gesture the doctor made as
confirmation that he had seen through my cross-dressing.
"No," Billie Jo insisted. "I want real breasts that will
still be there when I'm undressed. I've recently been through a
complete makeover, clothes, cosmetics, even my love life, and I want
to be more pleasing to my partners."
At her comment on love life, her eyes had momentarily rested
on me, just long enough to ignite a fire in her cheeks to match the
one she sparked in my own. The doctor noticed, of course, I felt it
was bright enough to set off the sprinkler system, but he didn't
comment directly.
"Do you please your partners, now?" he asked, speaking to her
but looking at me.
Before I could stop myself, my head had bobbed in a minuscule
nod, answering two questions for the price of one.
"Yes, I think so," Billie Jo said, "but I want to be more
feminine. This is important to me, Doctor, important to my image of
myself."
"Well, that is the most important issue. My job is to help
people feel better about themselves. Even though you are already
uniquely beautiful, I can help you to be more conventionally feminine.
You will need to remove your dress for my examination. I'll step
outside for a second if you prefer, or call my nurse."
"No, that's all right," Billie Jo smiled, grateful for his
positive attitude and confidence, "you can stay, and Brandy can be our
chaperone."
She turned to me for help with her laces and I quickly
loosened them enough for her to slide the dress down over her slender
hips. Under the dress she had worn a shimmering satin garter belt to
hold her stockings, and a tiny g-string, nothing else. Though the
doctor was a professional, used to seeing unclothed bodies, the
exuberant, erotic sensuality of Billie Jo's underwear, what there was
of it, took his breath away. A flush lit his own cheeks for a change,
and a bulge showed in his pants.
Billie Jo was essentially flat-chested, only her large nipple
points, blatantly displayed to be excited and erect, changed the
appearance of her chest from that of a trim, athletic boy. The tiny
g-string left no doubt that she was a woman, but above the waist the
evidence was underwhelming.
"Hmm, excellent nipple arousal," the doctor gently mused.
"Yes, I can help you. I need to ask you a few intimate questions,
though."
At Billie Jo's nod he continued, "How often do you have sexual
relations? When you do, do your juices flow well? Do you usually
achieve climax? I ask these things to determine whether hormone
therapy should be part of your treatment."
Billie Jo confirmed an active, fulfilling sex life, the blush
on both our faces providing supporting evidence.
"Okay, then, hormones won't help much. It will need to be a
constructive enhancement. How big do you want to be?" he asked,
smiling gently to encourage an honest response.
"Well, I think I would look sort of . . . unbalanced . . if I
were a D size," she allowed as she dressed. "I was thinking maybe a
C-cup."
"Good, a wise choice," the doctor confirmed. "I can see
you've thought this through pretty well. In a couple of minutes I'll
have a nurse bring you a book of shapes to look at. Don't be
embarrassed, you'll be picking out the new you, so you need to choose
carefully, and proudly. However, I wonder if I could ask you to step
out of the room for just a minute. I would like to talk with your
friend."
He looked directly, searchingly at me when he made his last
request and my heart sank into my toes. He knows! I though to
myself. What is he going to say? When Billie Jo closed the door
behind her, the doctor looked at me again, but this time I could see a
hint of embarrassment in his manner.
"Um . . Brandy is it? . . .I wonder if I could ask you to do
something for me. Would you undo the collar of your blouse, and show
me your neck?"
The fire that lit in my cheeks would surely consume my hair,
if it didn't burn me out from the inside first, I thought as my
fumbling fingers tried to comply with his request. For the first
time, a man had penetrated my image. Both Tanyon and Rocky had needed
a revelation, through removing my wig, to recognize the man within my
clothes but this expert doctor realized the truth even without a
breach in my disguise. Dr. Sanford took gentle pity on me and moved
to help me with the small buttons on the back of my collar. I held my
heavy mane out of the way while he undid the buttons, then turned to
face him.
My Adam's Apple, never really prominent, was nonetheless
unmistakable. He looked at it for just a second, then twirled his
finger in the air to indicate I should turn around again. Silently, I
held my hair away from the top of my lace blouse while he redid the
buttons, then let it fall. I stood staring at the far wall,
embarrassed, deflated, confused. Why had he done that? What did he
want? What would he say?
"You are incredible," was his soft comment as he tugged on my
shoulder to get me to face him again. "In all my experience, I have
never seen such a beautiful transformation. If your neck had been
showing I wouldn't have suspected a thing, but the elegance of your
clothes, including the high collar, triggered a nagging itch in the
back of my mind when I looked at you. I know how hard it is to hide
that male larynx, so I decided I had to know. Honestly, I was fully
prepared to find only a smoothly feminine neck. If you had turned out
to be a real woman, I could have made some excuse to cover a simple
request about your collar, but I couldn't take the chance of asking
you right out, your image is too perfect."
"Thank you, Doctor, I try. But it wasn't perfect enough. You
saw through it."
"Please, call me Erik. Like I said, not really. I had a
small suspicion and picked a way to check it out that would prevent
embarrassment if I were wrong. Otherwise, you're too beautiful for
anyone to doubt your femininity."
"Tell me," he continued, "who trained you to be so
convincing?"
"No one, really. My wife did my makeup and helped me with
clothes and walking in high heels. Mostly I guess I just pay
attention to what women do."
"Is Billie Jo your wife?" he asked.
"No, she's my next door neighbor. She recognized what was
going on while I was still in transition, and has been part of my
secret ever since."
"You make a beautiful pair. . . hmm . . . make a beautiful
pair. How serious are you about living as a woman?" he asked, an idea
visibly shining through his excited eyes.
"I don't want to give up my cock, if that's what you're
asking," I said in alarm.
"No, not at all," he assured me, "but I could help you with
your Adam's Apple, and enhance your bust as well. If I gave you a
nice set of B-cup breasts, you could still bind them under a tight
undershirt when you wanted to be a man. The absence of a visible
larynx on a man is not as noticeable as the presence on a woman. I
could also permanently remove your face and body hair."
"Really?" I mused in a dreamy way, visions of doing away with
the unpleasant aspects of my real gender while retaining that "special
ability" I had to bring Kelly pleasure. Then I thought of a "special
ability" that Kelly had to receive pleasure and wondered if I could
share in that as well.
"Um . . . Doctor . .uh . . Erik, if you built up my breasts,
could you give me real nipples, too?'
"Not artificially, that doesn't work," he said to my
disappointment. "But I could give you hormones to cause your own
nipples to bud and grow naturally. If we regulate the dose carefully
there won't be any degradation in your ability to achieve and sustain
an erection, though you may find that your member is a little less
likely to grow without direct stimulus or focused desire. Actually,
that will make it easier to hide until you're ready for it. The
hormones will also help you with your voice, though you don't really
need any help. You have one of the most beautiful, musical women's
voices I have ever heard."
I smiled at him with thanks for his compliments, but my mind
was still soaring at the opportunities he was dangling before me.
Here was a whole new pinnacle in my transformation, if I chose to
pursue it. It would be the first time I did anything irreversible to
enhance my femininity. His suggestions brought back the exhilaration
I had experienced, the exciting combination of fascination and fright
that had consumed me when I started my active cross-dressing. For
that alone I owed this handsome man a debt of gratitude.
"Thank you, Erik," I said, smiling tenderly at him, trying to
convey my gratitude. "You've given me hope that I might achieve more
of my dreams than I ever thought possible. Even that hope is a
special gift, and I truly appreciate it. Thank you so much."
In the course of my statement of appreciation, I had moved
closer to him, intending only a warm hug of gratitude and friendship.
When my arms slid around his waist for that hug, however, I had to
look up at him in order to see his face as I spoke to him. Visions of
fulfillment were flowing through the back of my mind, and I realized
too late that my eyes had a soft, dreamy look as well, one that was
sensuous and inviting. My realization came too late because before I
roused from my daydreams and truly focused on him, his arms had
surrounded me and his lips were hungrily seeking the ruby ones I had
raised toward him. Perhaps not too late, though, perhaps just right,
for his kiss reconfirmed my essential, sensual femininity, recovering
any loss of confidence brought about by his penetration of my
disguise.
"Why Doctor, do you treat all your patients that way? If so,
that may be your most convincing argument, yet."
"No, I'm sorry," he said, "you just looked so desirable that
. ."
"Please, Erik, don't apologize. It doesn't do my ego any good
for people to be sorry they kissed me."
"No, it's not that, it's just that . . ."
"It never is," I sighed, "but I always seem to make men sorry.
How about if we just start over, only this time without being sorry."
He was only too happy to accept my invitation and for a
timeless moment he made me feel as feminine as anyone had done since
Rocky had left. I was going to have to remember this aspect of being
a woman.
While still deeply entrenched in each other arms, our tongues
dueling back and forth, advancing in passion, retreating in
invitation, Billie Jo walked back into the room.
"What's taking so long? Oops!" she said, then giggled.
"Come on in," I invited, "the doctor was just trying to
convince me to sample his wares."
"Indeed," she grinned, "and what wares might those be?"
"Well, to begin with it was cosmetic surgery, but somewhere in
there he seemed to up the ante," I teased.
Dr. Sanford blushed furiously, then recovered himself to a
proud, determined attitude.
"Well, you beautiful creature, I'm not about to fall into the
trap of apologizing again. This time it's your fault. I'll send the
nurse in directly, with two books."
His grin as he set the hook for his plan seemed to transmit
the flush from his cheeks to mine, but he was gone before I could
protest.
"Two books?" Billie Jo repeated.
"Dr. Sanford suggested some enhancements for me, as well," I
admitted. "Tell me, Billie Jo, do you think I should? That would be
a mighty big step. Not everything would be reversible."
"Why would you want to reverse them. Aren't you happy to be
Brandy?"
"Absolutely," I affirmed, the intensity of my emotion
surprising me. I realized that I could never go back to being Ran,
except for isolated, absolutely required, special occasions I would
make as short as possible. Somehow that blunt question resolved the
issue in my mind and I knew I would have to embark on this new,
fascinating journey.
A nurse brought in two notebooks full of "before" and "after"
photos of enhancements Dr. Sanford had performed. He was clearly an
artist, his creations were smooth, graceful, shapely, beautifully
symmetric. Both books showed "before" images of lean, flat-chested
bodies, since that was the body type that Billie Jo and I shared, but
the "after" pictures in her book were definitely larger than those in
mine.
"What about this shape for me?" she asked.
"I don't know," I replied, looking at the picture she was
pointing toward. "That shape is a little too rounded for you. I
think the person in that picture must be shorter than you are. You
have to do what you think is best, but I would recommend a little more
pointed shape, more like this one."
She looked where I was now pointing, nodding her head
thoughtfully. I was considering the same things as I looked in the
pictures in my book. However, I also had to look at it with the
consideration of a shape I could conceal if I needed to, and also one
that would be correct for the shape of the clothes I already had,
though the doctor had correctly realized that my clothes were tailored
for a B-size bust. In the end we selected similar shapes, not too
different from the one I had pointed to in her book. That didn't
surprise me as much now that I realized how essentially similar we
were in looks. Nonetheless, her selected form was rounder, fuller
than mine, just enough to move her into a larger cup size as she
desired.
"What now?" I asked.
Billie Jo shook her head, "I don't know.
As though responding to a cue, a few seconds later the doctor
came back in.
"How did you know we were ready for you?" I demanded,
wondering if his rooms were bugged, and if my secret were broadcast
all over the office.
"Relax," he assured me, "when I passed by the room I listened
for comments. You can't tell what's being said, but you can hear
voices. When yours died down, after about the right amount of time, I
knew you must be done. I've done this before, you know."
"Oh, right," I said, embarrassed at my suspicions.
"Now, let me see what you've chosen," he suggested.
We pointed out the shapes we thought best and he confirmed our
choices as correct for our basic body shape.
"Good," he said, "you've chosen wisely again. I sometimes
have to try and talk someone out of something inappropriate, but I
like it if someone chooses something that will work. That shows you
really understand what you're trying to achieve and confirms that
you're ready for the commitment."
His last comment was directed at me, since I had not actually
agreed to any enhancements at all. It was question as much as
statement, but it was a strong recommendation as well. I found myself
nodding my head, still not entirely sure where I was heading, but
determined to complete the path I was embarking on.
"All right!" he said enthusiastically. "Now we just need to
set a schedule. Brandy, we'll take care of both your procedures at
the same surgery, but I recommend that you take care of your hair
removal first. That will take a few visits to the office here, spaced
over about a week, and you'll need to not shave the affected areas for
at least a day ahead of time. I expect that means you'll want to do
your face, first. Why don't we handle that, then take you both to the
hospital for your bust enhancements?"
We nodded again, now under his control almost as thoroughly as
Angel and Huntress had followed Milady Raven. I realized I hadn't
even talked with Kelly about this, but I knew she would approve. I
would have to remind her, the next time she made some comment about
being too short or something, that she hadn't needed any enhancements
at all beyond attractive clothes. She was the most perfect woman of
us, just as she was. We were just going to narrow the difference a
little.
