Bosom Bondage Buddies, Part 2

by Brandy Dewinter

  

Chapter 27 - No Turning Back

  

When I explained to Kelly what I had committed to do, I was a little afraid this would be too much for her. Everything I had done, everything we had done together had been interesting and pleasurable, but we could always turn back if things got too intense. Cosmetic surgery, even as simple as permanently removing my beard, was a step of an entirely different character. If someday we finally tired of our lifestyle and wanted to try something different or just wanted to ease up on the intensity in our lives, we would still be forced to maintain the path we found currently interesting. I explained all these considerations to her as I was winding down my description of the changes I was considering, when she interrupted me.

"Oh, stop, you silly fool. You know you want to do this. And I want you to do it, too. I can't imagine ever being satisfied with boring old Ran again, at least not as an exclusive diet. I'm more interested in the next time you're Milady Raven. Go for it, beautiful, you deserve it."

That magic phrase, telling me I deserved it, was just as convincing to me as it had been to Billie Jo so long ago. I guessed if we could afford it, and it hurt no one, we did deserve to add excitement and pleasure to our lives. The commission from Rocky alone would pay for all the procedures, and I would have never gotten that money in the first place if Brandy had never existed.

That night we went out to dinner, inviting Billie Jo along to describe her own plans. Our restaurant was the one where the geek had dropped his spoon in order to see up our dresses and we were giggling happily as we went to our table. No geeks were around that night, but the same manager was there. He came over to say hello and again offered us free drinks. Later that evening Billie Jo and I had a delicious dessert from Kelly's overflowing milk supply, a delicacy I shared with Kelly for breakfast the next morning. However, also that next morning I skipped shaving, sadly dressed in Ran's clothes, and removed my long, glamorous fingernails.

"Dear Ran, don't be sad," Kelly consoled me, "it's only temporary. Just a few weeks ago it was Brandy that was time-limited. Now, you'll just have to wait a while and she'll be more beautiful than ever."

I turned to her in appreciation, but she was holding her own corset out to me. I'm sure she didn't even realize what she was doing, but the thought of her in her beautiful, flattering clothes while I wore a suit and tie just as I had done before we started on our odyssey was even more sharply disappointing. I sighed and helped her into it, more anxious now than ever to get through this latest hurdle.

The last extended time as Ran was busy, though. I hurried to meet my clients, explaining that in the future they would primarily be dealing with my sister, Brandy. I signed before notaries to give Brandy power of attorney for all my dealings, along with Kelly, and took care of the multitude of business things that needed face-to-face attention.

Beginning on the second day I reported to Dr. Sanford's office for my hair removal treatments. He used a laser procedure that literally exploded the roots of the hair follicles, limited only by the visibility of the stubs of hair. This was why he needed at least a day or two of growth, and would need some follow-up visits to remove the hair follicles that just happened to be missing at any one time as individual hairs moved through their life cycle. The first day removed the hair from my cheeks and chin, ensuring I would never again need to worry about five-o'clock shadow. My legs and chest followed a few days later, then my remaining body hair except for a small fringe kept for accent around my masculine package. The procedure was not really painful, more of a sharp twitch like plucking an individual hair than like an overall burn, though the treated skin did get a little puffy for a day or two, and the doctor warned me to stay out of the sun until it was normal again.

The day I took the last laser treatment, at least for the first pass, I dressed as Brandy and reported back to our favorite nail parlor for a new set of fingernails. Then we kidnapped a laughing Billie Jo and went to dinner, our beautiful trio reunited.

"Well, tomorrow's the big day," Kelly smiled.

"Yes," I said quietly, thinking about the importance of this step.

"Yes!" Billie Jo exulted. "I hope to tell you it's seemed like a long wait for you, Brandy. I've been pumped about this since the day we talked with the doctor."

"I am too, really," I smiled. "But it's certainly a big step."

"Not really," she giggled, "you're only going to be about a medium, and I won't be much bigger. Kelly is the only size large around here."

"By the way," Billie Jo whispered, "how do you take care of your milk during the middle of the day. I'm sure Brandy helps in the morning and evening, but don't you get sort of full around noon."

"Uh huh," Kelly admitted with a blush, "but I sort of take care of that myself."

"You've been holding out on me," I accused her, smiling to take any heat out of my claim.

"No way," she denied, "I'm just making sure that the flow keeps adequately stimulated."

"Stimulated is right," I said. "I've seen you when you're sucking your own milk. No baby ever showed so much pleasure."

"That's because no baby ever got to enjoy both sides of the experience," Kelly said, a dreamy look in her eyes as she remembered the thrilling feeling of nursing herself.

"By the way," she continued with a grin sparking in her eyes, "you'll both be able to experience it yourself, in a little while."

"I hadn't thought of that," Billie Jo said breathlessly, some of the implications of larger tits only now becoming apparent.

"Yep," Kelly laughed, "all it takes is determination and tits big enough to reach with your own lips. You'll both be that big in just a week or so. I'll help you get started."

The thought made Billie Jo's nipples perk up through the thin top she wore. My reaction was hidden, but definitely there as well. I had taken the doctor up on his offer of hormones, starting them when I had visited for my first hair removal treatment. I wouldn't give up my ability to achieve an erection just for a feminine appearance, since I already had that, but I certainly wanted both experiences if I could have them.

"One of these days," Kelly chuckled, pointing at Billie Jo, "Brandy's nipples are going to perk up like that, when she gets hot."

That really got me excited, thinking for a minute I already showed through my own top. My arousal might have been subtle, yet, on my nipples, but my arousal in my masculine package was already to the painful stage. I had gotten used to tight constraints on my manhood, wearing the obscuring tape most of the time now, but the intense thrill that ran through me at the thought of my own sensitive nipples becoming erect resulted in an equally intense need. It was clear that the feminine hormone treatment hadn't adversely impacted my masculine potency, at least not yet. In fact, I might step up the dosage just for the relief from my pulsing physical desire.

"Look who's shameless now," I grumbled. "You're just teasing us because you came naturally equipped with features we've only dreamed about. Just wait until we have our own treasure chests to celebrate."

"Yeah," Kelly grinned, "I'm just taking advantage of it while it lasts. It won't be long now!" I looked at Billie Jo, the feeling of similarity stronger than ever.

"Have you ever noticed how much alike Billie Jo and I have become, at least in looks?" I asked Kelly.

"Now that you mention it, you do look almost like sisters. If Billie Jo had longer hair to draw attention away from the small differences in your cheekbones and the lines of your chin, you could pass for sisters for sure. Why do you ask?"

"Maybe just for the reason you hinted at. Billie Jo, why do you keep your hair so short?"

"It's easier when I exercise. I've always been so focused on physical fitness that I tend to get impatient with the time it takes to care for long hair."

"Then you need to get a wig like I did," I suggested. "I actually have two now. Kelly got me another one so I can always have one ready to go while I'm washing or styling the other. It works fine, once you get used to the weight, though it can be a little warm under the wig cap."

"You're probably right," Billie Jo said, not really catching on to where I was heading. Maybe I didn't know either.

"I was just thinking how much fun it would be to pretend to be sisters, somewhere. I don't exactly know where, yet, but there must be some occasion where it would be interesting."

"Maybe I could be Milady Halo, and you two could be a matched pair of slaves for me," mused Kelly.

Billie Jo gasped at the thought, her excitement again shouting silently through the material of her blouse. I wasn't so sure, myself. Being Raven had been fun, but being a slave was not as interesting to me.

"Come on, give it a try," Kelly urged. "I haven't steered you wrong, yet."

"We'll see," I stalled. "We haven't even begun to explore Raven, Angel and Huntress, yet. Let alone a new trio."

"Make you a deal," Kelly offered, "We'll wait until your tits pop up when you're excited, just like a good slave girl's should, but when they do, you owe me a night as a slave."

Billie Jo caught my eyes with her own and I realized how much she wanted this fantasy. She said softly, "Please, Brandy, do this for me. I really enjoyed being a slave with Angel, but the idea of being part of a matched pair calls to me. Maybe, for once, I won't be as lonely as I suddenly realized I've always been. Wherever we go, I'd be part of a pair, never alone, not completely different from everyone around me. It would mean so much to me."

"You're a beautiful woman," I countered. "You should be proud of how uniquely attractive you are."

"I am," she said, "but I also feel so isolated some times."

She sighed sadly, giving up on convincing me, though she already had. I didn't think I'd particularly enjoy the experience, but in a fundamental way Billie Jo was my sister as well as my lover. I would do just about anything for her, even if Kelly hadn't already requested it. There was no way I'd turn them both down.

"Okay, beautiful, for you, and for Kelly," I said, bringing a happy smile to both faces. "Once I can really pass for a woman without a corset, including popping nipples, I'll be a slave for an evening. But Kelly, dear, remember, Milady Raven will return someday, and I have a vivid imagination."

Kelly grinned for a second, but then she caught the truth lurking within my jest and blushed, her own nipples visible through her dress and the cups of her hidden corset, not sure what she wanted, either as mistress or slave.

The next day, Billie Jo and I checked into the hospital together. By prior arrangement I had the doctor's permission to be Brandy for the time we were in the hospital so we had a double room waiting. We were both a little nervous, me more than Billie Jo, when Kelly kissed us each good night before leaving for home. That evening after getting ready for bed Billie Jo and I talked for a long while, growing closer, gaining a better understanding of each other's hopes and dreams. She had really had a lonely life, and as I drifted off to sleep I thought about how lucky I had been to find Kelly, not for the first, nor even the millionth time.

In the morning they wheeled me into surgery. I wasn't supposed to talk for a few days, my throat hurt anyway, and I had to communicate by writing on a notepad. The bulge of bandages around my chest looked enormous, but I wondered how much of it was bandage, and how much was me, the new me, the shapely me with real curves. On the third day I asked for a real bath, to get as clean as possible, before the doctor arrived for his regular visit.

"Kelly," I wrote, " when I get back I want you to help me to the bathroom, and get my nightgown ready. I want to be cleaned up, as beautiful as only you can make me, and dressed like a lady when the doctor gets here. He can pull the top of my nightgown down as readily as he can open this stupid hospital gown."

"Brandy," she replied, "I think you should take it easy."

I smiled as I wrote the next message, but I also gave her a strong scowl for emphasis when I handed it to her.

"Angel, you WILL do as I say. Signed: Milady Raven."

She laughed and handed the slip of paper to Billie Jo, who joined her in a giggle that was definitely not appropriate for well-behaved slave girls. I had to smile as well, recognizing my inability to enforce my orders. But when I got back from my bath, Kelly complied with my wishes anyway. It felt so good to be pretty again, with my face done, my glamorous gown on, and my hair flowing down my body. I must have made up two days on my recovery in an instant. There was a single comfortable chair in our room so I donned my high-heeled slippers and the negligee that went with the nightgown, then sat down, arranging a scene for the doctor's visit. I practiced getting up a few times until I could do it with Brandy's casual gracefulness, then draped my beautiful hair over my shoulder and crossed my legs, letting the peignoir fall open so that the sheerness of a single layer of the material could reveal their shapely length.

"I don't believe it," was Dr. Sanford's first comment when he entered. "Who told you that you could get out of bed? Or wear a nightgown rather than the hospital gown?"

"She insisted," explained Kelly. "She's really doing pretty well."

"I'll be the judge of that," he said grumpily, but I could tell he was pleased with my determination to get better, also that he was impressed with my looks. He hadn't looked in on us the night before our surgery, and I hadn't been at my best (to say the least) during surgery. I was glad to remind him of how pretty I could be, when I was allowed to be.

I stood up with practiced grace and sauntered to the bed, letting the swing necessary when wearing heels demonstrate itself through the orbit of my hips, accented by the rippling flow in the soft material of my gown. I passed the doctor and reached the bed, still facing away from my audience, and untied the ribbons holding the negligee in place, letting it fall from my shoulders to my hips before I swept it around before me. Once it was out of the way, my legs were fully revealed through the sheer material, the globes of my ass held high with the posture forced by the elegant heels, the thong bikini I wore disappearing into the laces at the waist of the gown. My little show was rewarded by two gasps of interest from behind me, one in the light, silvery tones of Kelly, one in the deeper resonance of the handsome doctor. After the briefest of pauses for emphasis, I turned to sit on the bed, allowed my slippers to fall from my feet, and swung my legs up, taking care to pose them carefully on the bed and making no move to pull the covers over them. My bust might not have been too attractive right then, all bound up in bandages, but my legs had always been excellent, and a girl has to use what tools she has.

The nightgown was really only held up by the collar, at least down to the corset-like laces just above the waist, so Dr. Sanford was able to uncover my chest even easier than if I had worn a hospital gown. I hoped he would remove the bandages so I could see what he had accomplished, but he just checked them for seepage and when he was satisfied that they weren't hiding a problem, he left the dressings alone. His examination of my neck took little longer, the smaller bandages clearly hiding no unpleasant surprises.

"Listen, Brandy," he warned me. "You won't get better if you rip out my beautiful work by moving around too soon. And go ahead and take some pain medication if you're hurting. There's no need to suffer. It won't make that much difference in how fast you recover."

I looked down while he spoke, trying to appear contrite, but I also grinned at him to show that I was just as stubborn as he could be. I hadn't tried to talk, yet, since I was paranoid about losing Brandy's musical voice if I strained my new vocal apparatus too soon, but I was also determined to show him I was well on the way to recovery. Billie Jo was a lot less aggressive about her own recovery, but was doing well. Of course she had only her chest bandaged. Thinking about that reminded me of the bandages at my neck, and I touched it lightly with one elegant hand, catching the doctor's eyes with my own.

Dr. Sanford smiled and said, "Perhaps we can let you talk a little. I tried a new technique on you, let me see if it worked."

With that cryptic comment, he removed the bandages from my neck. Kelly quickly gave me a hand mirror, so that I could see the external results of his expertise. My neck looked slender and elegant, with no trace of an unsightly masculine bulge, even when I leaned my head back and swallowed at the doctor's orders. There was only a thin line from the incision, hardly more than a scratch.

"Good," he said with satisfaction. "I used a special adhesive to close the incision, to minimize any scar. The technique isn't strong enough for bust enhancements, since that skin has to stretch to cover the increased volume, but it works very well on reductions like your neck received. It may heal without a mark at all, and if there is a small one your obvious talents with cosmetics should be more than sufficient to hide it."

He continued with further orders, "Now, I don't want you to try and speak whole sentences, but I want you to say 'Ah' in a natural tone."

"Ah," I said, then smiled like sunlight breaking through clouds at the pure, musical tone of my voice. It was at least as beautiful as I had achieved by softly singing each tone when I had tried to disguise my masculine tenor, back when I created Brandy's voice.

"No," Dr. Sanford said, not understanding the success of his operation, "don't sing a tone, just speak normally."

"But Doctor," my musical voice caroled, "this is just a normal tone. You've made my voice beautiful! How did you do it?"

He smiled at my pleasure, and at the continuing evidence of his near-miracle. "Well, when I was in there working on the shape of your throat, I tightened up your vocal chords a little, and smoothed out some of the resonance spaces. I expected to improve your voice, but I've never had this excellent a result before."

"Oh, Erik, if nothing else you've done works at all, I'm still satisfied. My voice alone is worth everything," I praised him. Then I tried for a tone more like Ran's voice had been.

"Can I still talk like Ran, when I need to?" I asked, proving that I could by demonstration.

"Yes, it's sort of like the inverse of what I did before," I continued in my new, wonderful voice. "I pitch my voice lower, rather than higher, and try to sound nasally rather than sing for clarity."

"What do you think, Kelly?" I grinned.

"I'm jealous," she said, though her responding grin showed nothing but joy.

"Me, too," Billie Jo called from her bed.

Dr. Sanford smiled at the chorus of compliments implied by their pseudo-complaints, then stood up.

"Okay, Brandy, since you're up and moving around. I'll let you go home today. Come to my office in three more days and I'll see about removing your bandages."

He pulled the curtain back so Billie Jo was again fully part of the group, then looked at her and said, "I'm sorry, Miss Doggett, but you really should stay one more day. Your procedure was a bit more extensive and I'm concerned about the stress on your skin as it accepts the added volume. But if it works out okay, you can go home tomorrow and still come with Brandy for the unveiling."

Billie Jo pouted, but his promise of getting back on the same schedule with me took most of the sting out of the need to stay another day. She understood my joy at getting to go home already and wouldn't diminish it by being too gloomy. I changed from my nightgown to a garter belt and suntan stockings under a denim mini, and perched on cheerful white sandals with sky-high heels. I couldn't wear my corset, of course, and in fact I had to wear a loose sweater to cover the mass of bandages, and of the new me. We laughed at the profile I had when I pulled the sweater tight for a moment, the bulky dressings making me look more spectacular even than Kelly. As quickly as possible I was packed and ready to check out, chuckling as the orderly insisted on pushing me in a wheel chair though my tall spiked heels shouted my claim to be steady and graceful on my feet.

I used the three days of enforced physical leisure for intense mental activity, refining the models I used to predict investment performance, but nothing could make the time go quickly, especially since I had continued the hormone therapy and could feel continually-increasing sensitivity on the nipples hidden with my bandages. I was so anxious for the visit to Dr. Sanford's office that I made Kelly get ready early, and gathered an equally-anxious Billie Jo up so that we could be there well before our appointed time. Our trio trooped in together when my name was called, provoking an interested glance from those in the waiting room, but we had already decided to share the moment, however good or bad it might be.

"Goodness," Dr. Sanford said with a smile as he entered the treatment room. "I didn't know we'd have such a big audience. Maybe I should have sold tickets."

"At the prices you've already charged for admission, you can't possibly expect any more," I laughed, trying to cover my nervousness. The music of my new voice covered most of the tension in my heart, but Kelly's eyes met mine in a moment of sympathy.

"Who's first?" he asked.

I was about to rip my sweater off in a race to beat Billie Jo to the first unveiling, but Kelly caught my arm. Her eyes directed my attention to the need visible in Billie Jo's face, a need that had been building in her for years, ever since she began to realize as a young woman that she would never develop a dramatic, feminine shape. That need overwhelmed my own curiosity, only fed by a few weeks of desire. I smiled at Kelly in acknowledgment of her loving generosity, then said, "Why don't you go first, Billie Jo. Kelly can help me work this sweater past my hair."

The face-saving excuse allowed Billie Jo to go first without making her seem selfish, and she quickly stepped to the doctor. Her own sweater seemed to leap off, exposing the yards of bandage wrapped around her torso. We all held our breath as the doctor began to cut through the bandages, carefully working them away from the tiny stitches. After a few, interminable minutes, he peeled the bandages away from her chest to reveal two perfectly formed breasts, full, shapely, symmetric, beautiful.

Billie Jo seemed to have forgotten how to breathe, frozen in wonder at the soft, pendulous shapes. She reached to weigh them in her hands, cupping the warm masses more gently than any lover. A smile of joy even brighter than the angelic light than Kelly could display illuminated her face, then embarrassment flooded her cheeks as she realized that others were watching, and waiting patiently.

"Can I take it that your satisfied with your results?"

Dr. Sanford gently prodded.

In response, Billie Jo grabbed his face in her hands and started to shower him with kisses, too excited for coherent speech, but not for clear communication.

"I'll take that as a yes," he smiled. "Now, do you want me to remove your stitches before I unwrap Brandy, or can you wait for a few minutes."

"I'll wait," Billie Jo answered, once again fondling her new form, too full of exploration for hurry on inconsequentials like the tiny threads on the underside of her warm mounds.

"Good," I said, the tightness in my new voice more evident than ever, but understandable.

Even Billie Jo was distracted from her own spectacular success for a few minutes as the doctor removed my bandages. On my part, I couldn't even think about breathing, my heart blocked my throat completely. Kelly reached over and held my hand while the doctor worked, squeezing reassurance into my trembling fingers. The process must have taken hours, days, weeks before he was finished, but finally he pulled the dressings back from my chest to expose the most beautiful curves I had ever seen. The flowed gracefully from my shoulders, lifting high and proud with a more tapered shape than Billie Jo now displayed, and much more elegant than the spectacular globes owned by Kelly. She was magnificent, but the smooth, wonderful breasts I saw on my chest fulfilled my femininity in a way that fit perfectly with my body type. I wouldn't have changed my form for either of the other women, and didn't care if they felt just as proud or not.

Even the doctor was surprised at how well my own enhancement had turned out. Some subtle refinements had lifted his work into the masterpiece category, and our reaction, all of us, was wonder as much as simple joy. Unlike the burst of enthusiasm that Billie Jo showered on him, I reached out gently and gave him a warm, soft kiss of such intense gratitude it was almost not sexual, too full of love for physical thoughts to intrude. At least it started out that way. Somewhere in there my budding nipples started to make their presence known and I was distracted enough to reenter the real world. When I stepped back, the doctor was smiling softly, and my eyes were on his, but Kelly noticed the evidence of excitement I displayed.

"Why Brandy, I think you're growing up. You look just like a big girl now."

She reached out and tweaked one of my erect nipples, provoking a gasp at the electric thrill that ran through my body. My cheeks flared with flaming heat, but my sense of wonder was resurrected as well. I reached to touch my own nipples, playing with them gently with my long-nailed fingers until they reached a surprising extension.

"That's my job," Kelly laughed, reaching her own hand to touch me.

I giggled in embarrassment at my self-stimulation, but didn't pull away from her caress. She grinned back at me, gently tracing the lovely curve until her fingers found the small threads of the stitches that were still in place. She jerked her hand back, afraid that she might damage something, but Dr. Sanford offered immediate reassurance.

"I'll take care of those right away. Both of you ladies have healed just fine."

He returned to clinical professionalism, handling our smooth curves as though they were unrelated to a glorious feminine shape as he removed the stitches. The sharp tugs as he drew the threads from our skin weren't even distracting enough to draw my attention from the mirror that showed my new treasures, and it seemed that Billie Jo felt the same way. In a few minutes he was done.

"All right ladies. Neither of you has really needed to wear a bra until now, though I know you, Brandy, generally did to hold your silicone forms. Now it's not optional though. You each need to support your breasts for at least a month until your skin accommodates the new volume and regains its tone. After that, do whatever's comfortable. Do you have any questions?"

We both shook our heads and he left. Kelly handed us the bras we had brought, each sized to the shapes we had been promised. They fit perfectly and I was amazed at the sensations as I shifted the support for the weight of my delightful curves from the skin of my shoulders to the straps of the bra. The loose sweaters we had worn over our bandages were clearly inadequate to display our new shapes, so we removed our skirts, pulled on tight, shiny leotards that hugged our beautiful, feminine forms, then donned our skirts again and left the doctor's office.

   

  

  

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