Bosom Bondage Buddies, Part 2

by Brandy Dewinter

  

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.

  

  

  

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