THE COUNTESS� SECRET

This story is hereby placed in the public domain by the author.�

2003 The Marquis Moon

If I don�t get more feedback, this is going to e the last story I do.

Contact me: [email protected]

I

"No, Jared, the problem is that I am completely flat-chested!"

"Holy shit, Kat, do we have to have this conversation again?" I blurted out. Katrina bit her lush and prominent lower lip, a habit of hers I always found endearing.�� "I mean, you're a grown woman with a Ph.D.� A full professor in astronomy..."

"...in physics" she corrected me, "Jared, you've been my best friend since our first day of high school, and you're always a great friend.� I can say anything to you, and I am a bitch around you, and you never complain.� But you weren't around..."

I finished her words for her.� I had heard them so many times.� "You really don't know how it was for me in middle school and high school.� That's when all the other girls ..."

Katrina pouted.� I could tell she was really upset this time because her eyebrows arched over her luminous dark blue eyes.� When Kat is upset, her lower lip swells to about twice its normal size, and begins to tremble.� If her eyebrows arch, watch out!

"Calm down, Kat.� I don't want you crying on me."

"Oh Jared!� she scolded, �Don't you remember last December when you broke up with Rosalyn?�� Didn't I let you talk all night about your supposed inadequacies?� Did I try to shut you up?� Did I?"

"This is about some guy, isn't it?� Some guy you've met."

I poured myself another cup of Kat's Blue Mountain.� If I had to hear her story of woe, about the three-hundred and fifty-fifth guy this year who floated her boat but who wouldn't give her the time of day because she was small-breasted, at least I could do it with a fresh cup of $16 coffee.

It was a guy.� It�s was always a guy.� Not just any guy, mind you, but one of those tousled tweed-jacket-with-the-elbow-patch type guys Kat was forever mooning over.� I'll bet you ten dollars to your five that his name is probably something like...

"...Chad.� Chad Davies.� Dr. Chad Davies.� He's professor of psychology and cog-sci at Sacred Heart. I mean, he was leafing through Floyd Billingsley, for Christ's sake!�� Right there in Borders!� He's about forty, six feet tall, full, and I mean full, head of wavy dark hair, grey eyes, with those little crinkles in the corners that turn up when he smiles.�� All of that and he reads Billingsley besides!"

Billingsley is a philosopher.� He had something to do with relativity, physics, multiple dimensions, that sort of thing.� You need a crib sheet to keep up with Kat when she gets going. She's that kind of girl.� A real bluestocking, my mother calls her.� She�s brilliant, sometimes too brilliant.

"...so I asked him if he had ever read what Maturana had written about the consensual nature of time. I mean Maturana says that, I told him, �human beings exist in language; that is we are the kind of beings that we are as we operate in language.'�� We arise in our languaging behavior in the flow of our recursive consensual coordinations of consensual coordinations of behaviors. That is, I told him, we exist in a close dynamics of languaging and everything that we do as humans takes place in our languaging,� as a flow of consensual coordinations of consensual coordinations of behavior, which is the matrix of what we call time'.

Stuff like that makes perfect sense to Kat.�� She's just getting started now.

"But he asks me, 'So, you don't agree with Stuckey and Kafatos that that nature may behave discretely at the Planck scale?'�� He told me he knew of some attempts, already at a high level of development, at constructing an exact, self-consistent discrete time mechanics, which have already revealed a variety of novel phenomena such as modified propagators and vertices in quantum field theories.� They even point out new interesting objects in Dirac field theory called oscillons."

Whoosh!

"So, Kat, get to the part I can understand.� You know I'm a football-and-brew kind of guy."

"I'm sorry, Jared.� That's what I appreciate about you.� You accept, even affirm, my Brainiac side..."� She turned to stare out the kitchen window into the night sky.� "...even if you can't always follow me there."

"Anyway, we were having a civilized conversation when this, total bitch, walks up.� As soon as she shows up, Chad gets as nervous as a teenager who's been caught jacking off.� He looks at her, then back at me, then back at her.�� He looks like a deer that's getting ready to run, but the bitch sees me."

"You should have seen her, Jared.� She had equipment in places where most women don't even have places.� She's short, well, and shorter than I am, but just about all women are.� She's dark, too, maybe Italian or Spanish, and she has this most perfect heart-shaped face with this turned-up nose, this pointy little chin, these huge, moist, dark eyes."

I laugh.� "It sounds like you're describing a Pekinese."

"I wish.� Anyway, she has just masses and masses of curly dark hair.�� It's thick, like you could stuff a mattress with it, and it hangs down past her waist.� She's wearing glasses, some stylish model, like Calvin Kleins or something, except it doesn't make her look nerdy or gawky, but even sexier.�� God and she have this, body!��� She has these big, big breasts, like this..."� Katrina is cupping her hands about a foot and a half in front of her chest.� "...and she's wearing this ribbed sweater.� I don't think she was wearing any bra, because her nipples were poking through the sweater like she was trying to steal a couple of D-cell batteries.� The sweater cinched in at the waist.� Maybe it had some elastic in it, cause I can't imagine any woman with breasts..., that...,� large,� having a sweater that would be that tight at the waist.� I mean, her boobies stuck out two or three inches to the sides of her chest, hiding her upper arms. She was showing just about an inch of midriff, beautiful olive-skinned tummy with a deep innie navel."

Visual inspiration for Damarys

"Now, not only does she have the largest pair I've ever seen outside of a medical textbook, but she has this incredibly tiny waist.� I don't think it could be more than 20 inches around.� She has this narrow little golden belt would be tight on my 14 year sister.� Then this tiny, baby-doll waist flares out into the most womanly bubble-butt..."

"Chad goes all to pieces.� The Goddess is angry. She must be appeased.� He tries to introduce me.� "Honey, this is Dr. Katrina Van Dyke.� She's..."

"Now, The Goddess holds out an exquisitely manicured little hand to me.� '�one of your former students, no doubt.'� She smiles like a cobra.� 'I'm Damarys Devlin.� I�m Dr. Davies' fianc�e.� I'm pleased to meet you.'� She grabs his arm and pulls it onto her breast.� I can see that this reduces him to putty, as he turns with her and prepares to walk off without even saying goodbye.� As she turns to go, the Goddess Damarys turns back to look at me.� She stares right at my chest and smiles and nods her head.� 'Dr. Davies has always been popular with his co-ed students, I know' "

Katrina affixes me with her electric blue eyes.� She pushed a stray blonde lock out of the way.

"I have always wanted to have that kind of effect on men."

I sighed deeply. "Kat, you got a beer?� I need a beer."� Katrina turned around, reached into the refrigerator and pulled out a Michelob.� I cracked it and started drinking from the bottle.� Kat passed me a glass.� She always does.� I never use it.

"I have always wanted to have that effect on women, Kat� I replied.� "Remember when Rosalyn dumped me for Corporate Dave?� You know, the Anti-Christ?� Mr. Six-six-six?� Six feet tall, six figure income, six pack abs?"

At least I got Kat to laugh at my joke.� "C'mon, Kat, I went around for months after that with forged ATM slips in my pocket, showing an eight figure balance, and writing my phone number on the backs to give to women I met in bars.�� It�s called genetic competition.� We all face it.� It�s how the race improves itself."

Katrina slumped over. "I just wish the race wouldn't trample my ego underfoot in its relentless pursuit of excellence."��

But she took my point, and afterwards, we popped in a DVD, some fluffy romantic comedy, had some popcorn and laughs, then I went home feeling like Katrina would survive another week.

The next time I saw Kat she had gone back to wearing her padded bras.� It went in cycles for her.� She'd feel the need to fit in with the rest of the world, so she'd slip into her collection of padded bras and fakers.� No one knew the difference.� To me, it always signified a low point in Kat's life, where she felt the need to hide, to cover up, and to avoid something.� This told me she had been pretty deeply hurt by the incident with Nutty Professor and his porn star fianc�e.� So it was some relief for me when she went back to upbeat, Glad-To-Be-Flat Kat, avoiding bras entirely and slipping into little lacy camisoles and other frilly, things that girls with breasts couldn't get away with wearing.

Except this time, she wasn't her usual self.� She was mopey, kind of down-in-the-dumps, and she wore shapeless, floppy, flannel shirts, and didn't bother to do much with her hair.� Something signaled emergency, so I called her up on the pretext of taking my border collie Vickie to the vet.� After doing the doggy-doc thing, we went for bagels.� Kat cut right to the quick.

"I ran into them again, Jared.� In the supermarket near my mom's house."

"Bad Chad and Damarys the Devil?"� I knew it was.

"He saw me, and his eyes lit up. I think he wanted to talk to me.� Then he glanced over his shoulder.� There she was, the bitch.� She turned and saw me in the aisle, and she looked right at my chest.� It was like she had X-ray vision, to see right under my padded bra, to where I had nothing.� She threw back her head and laughed until she choked.�� Of course, Chad rushed to her side.� I don't think he knew she was laughing at me, but I never felt so exposed, so vulnerable."� Katrina began to sniffle.

"I'm beginning to hate this, Jared.� I'm going to have to do something about it!"

"Surgery?� Gosh, Kat, that's kind of drastic.� Besides, it would be just as fake as your, uh, falsies, and a lot more expensive."

Katrina hung her head.� "Yeah,� you're right.� I'll just have to pray for a miracle, and they're in short supply."

II

The next day, I stumbled across the miracle.

I threw the pamphlet on Katrina's kitchen table.� "What do you think, Kat?� Do you think she can help you?"

"I don't know, Jared. I�ve always been kind of skeptical about this, well, gypsy magic sort of thing.� I have no doubt it has some kind of psychological benefit, a self-validating sort of..."

"That's the scientist talking, Kat"� I chided her.� "Look.� She promises results.� 100% money-back guarantee."

"And if she hitches up her wagon in the middle of the night...?"

I pointed to a line on the pamphlet.� 'It says here �38 years in the same location�."

"C'mon, Kat, what can it hurt to talk to her?"

"I'd feel weird."

"Let's treat it like, like a sociological experiment, you know..."

Katrina looked up and smiled.� "No.� You're right. I shouldn't be close-minded.� Maybe this Countess Zamora can help me.� Like you said, what will it cost to talk to her?"

The next day, we found "Countess Zamora�s consultory in a strip mall next to a travel agency.� It didn't look very promising.� There were the mandatory occultish symbols; cards, palms, eyes, but also, oddly enough, a telescope, a fax machine, a computer, a copier, and a laser printer on Countess Zamora's desk.� The Countess herself was gracious, a well-kept woman in her early sixties with a worldly air about her.� She listened carefully while Kat unloaded her tale of flat-chested woe.

After about a half an hour of Kat's self-pity session, the Countess made a startling confession.� "Honey, if you had come to me with any other problem, I'd have read your palm, told you a half-dozen vague, but positive, generalities, muttered something about your destiny, and what you need to attract love into your life.� You would be twenty dollars poorer, and I'd be twenty dollars closer to paying my rent for the month."

She went into the back room and reappeared with an old leather-bound book.� "This is my great-grandmother's grimoire.� She was the last real practitioner in the family.� There are four potions in here that I know they work.� I've done them myself, and I am so certain of their effectiveness that I am willing to charge for them.�� The first one is for a cure for baldness."

I grabbed the top of my head. At thirty-two, I didn't need that one, yet.

"The second will ensure that a child not yet conceived will be the proper sex.� The third will help you find hidden water on your property, and the last, the last is for women who feel cheated by nature to develop a lush, womanly silhouette."

"The last one, Countess" asked Katrina, her eyes narrowing.� "The last one will grow large breasts on a flat-chested girl?"

"As large as you desire."

Katrina laughed.� "If that were so , why is it that every woman in this town is not pushing their breasts around in front of them with a shopping basket?"

"If it were easy, every man would be a millionaire, no?� Most girls, when they hear what's necessary, decline to even start.� And besides, it�s not cheap."�

"How much is it?" I asked.

"It costs six thousand dollars, about the same as surgery.� But this will be real, living flesh, not cold silicon or salt water bags.� That's two thousand up front, to get started.� I don't expect anyone to pay me in full when there is such skepticism about my method.� The rest can be paid on a monthly basis.� You can stiff me if you like, but the funny thing is, most of the girls who start the course, finish the course and pay in full.� I have a one hundred percent satisfaction rate."

Katrina bit her lower lip. "Can you give me the names of any of the women how have successfully completed the program?"�

"Oh yes, dozens.� Would you like their names and phone numbers?"

I thought for a minute.�� Something about this woman inspired confidence.� What she said had the ring of truth, not the smell of bullshit.� "How long will it take to know if this, program,� if you want to call it that, is working?"

The countess looked me straight in the eye and told me, "From the very first day, you will know that the program works.� I'll tell you what.� Today is what, the twenty-seventh?�� You write me a post-dated check for the thirteenth of next month. You will know by then whether what I am telling you is the truth or not. If I am a charlatan and a liar, cancel the check, and you're only out the gas and your time.� Do we have a deal?"

Katrina whispered to me.� Jared, I've only got eight hundred dollars in the bank."

"I'll cover you, Kat.� I've got a couple grand saved..� Pay what you can, and you can pay me back later."

So, we signed a contract with Miriam Gessner, which was "Countess Zamora" 's real name, and I wrote a check out to her for two thousand dollars, dated the 15th of the following month.� In return, the Countess opened the large, old leather-bound book, placed it face down on the copier.� Then she wrote something on a piece of paper and sealed it in an envelope.� She opened a safe in her wall and placed the envelope in the safe.

She handed Katrina the other paper.� "This is a lotion you will have to prepare.� The ingredients are not easy to locate, but you must not purchase them. They must be as fresh as possible.� Each month on the night of the full moon, you have to rub this lotion on those parts of your body you want to change, to make more womanly."

"That sounds easy enough" Kat responded.

"Oh, but there's a catch, young lady.� Oh yes.� The lotion must be applied by a man.� And not just any man.� He must be a man who fits the criteria I have written down on the paper that I put inside the envelope in the safe."

"And just what are these criteria?"� Katrina sounded a little scared now.

"I can't tell you. If I do, it won't work.� I would recommend you bring several men with you the first night, and let each of them try in turn.� One is bound to fit the criteria.� They are not that exacting.� Its not like he has to be of the Imperial bloodline of vanished Byzantium."� The Countess chuckled.

"And if I can't find a man who can make it work?"� Katrina sounded really scared, and I was a little taken aback as well.

"If you can't find a man for whom the lotion will work, call me the next day, or don't even call me.� Just cancel the check, and you can stay flat-chested.� Is that fair?� Do you still want to go through with this?� After all, I don't have any of your money yet."

Katrina looked determined.� "We'll do it!"� The Countess nodded, handed Katrina the other papers, and shook her hand.� "You're going to be very pleased, young woman, very pleased indeed."

"Will you ever tell me what the conditions are? Can you?"

"I could tell you now.� But then, nothing would work.� When you're feel you have finished with yourself, come back, and I'll give you the envelope, if you're still curious."

On the way home, we formulated a plan.� We�d plan a party for the night of the next full moon, the 11th.� We'd invite just about everyone she knew, single or married, and let the men in on the secret.� Out of all the men invited, at least one would have to match the hidden and mysterious qualifications.�

"I hope that by God you're the 'lost prince of Byzantium', Jared.� That would make things so much easier."� Then she put her head on my shoulder, something she almost never does.

Visual inspiration for Kat

III

The next week I managed to scrape together all the ingredients.� It wasn't easy, but it wasn't impossible.� Certain herbs, certain fungi, certain glands of nocturnal animals culled at a particular hour.� By the ninth, I had the lotion ready and cooling in Katrina's refrigerator.� The night of the eleventh, we had a pool party with five or six couples that Kat knew from the University, and a couple of single teaching assistants with their dates.�� Besides me, there was Dr. Farancisco, and Dr.� Blemmis, and Darryl, a black guy I had invited from work, just in case race was the issue.� Kat had also invited four other guys I had never met.� They were all sitting in the living room talking University, while Darryl and I sat out in the driveway, sipping Heinekens and talking baseball.�� Since Kat and I didn't know just what we needed, it didn't matter.� We had eight solid candidates.

"I hope I don't have to explain myself eight times.� I'll feel kind of foolish."

You're going first, of course."

"Of course.� I already know."

Just after sundown, I saw the bright rim of the full moon peeking over the horizon.� It was time. ��Kat excused herself to go the bathroom, and five minutes later, I excused myself as well. I picked up the lotion from Kat's refrigerator and headed to the bedroom.� Katrina was waiting for me stripped to the waist. I locked the door behind me.

"Here goes nothing" she said huskily.

It is always something of a shock to see a completely flat-chested woman. Katrina had no breast development whatsoever.� Her body was athletic and lean.� She had a great abdomen and ass, naturally,� not the result of hours in the gym.� But she had the undeveloped chest of a little girl. Her nipples were fine, pale� and undeveloped.� There had grown no flowers as yet on that virgin soil. The seeds hadn't even budded.� Katrina put her hands on her hips and I dipped my hands in the lotion, pulled out a dollop, and began to rub it into Kat�s undeveloped chest.

Within seconds, I knew something had changed.� There was at first nothing at all under my hands, then I felt something "give".� Two tiny little mounds had appeared on Katrina's chest, and her nipples had darkened and thickened.

Katrina was beside herself.� "You passed the test, Jared!� Oh, this is great!� This is the greatest!� I'm so glad it worked with you!"� She put her hands lightly over her new acquisitions and marveled as they continued to sprout.� When they had grown just about to the size of the globes of two light bulbs they stopped.�

But Katrina had breasts!� For her it was like seven Christmases rolled into one.� She rushed to the mirror and examined them from every angle.� From the side, they looked for the entire world like two little just born puppies that had crawled up onto Katrina's chest and fell asleep there.� From the front, they looked like nothing other than the beautiful breasts of a beautiful young woman, �just a shade under a handful..� I woke from my ogling and washed my hands in the sink.� I heard Katrina come up behind me, then, wonder of wonders!� I felt the soft pressure of her new breasts against my back as she kissed me softly on the ear.�� "Thank you for making this happen, Jared" she whispered,� "You�re the greatest friend in the world."

The rest of the guests didn't even notice we were gone. The whole affair transpired in under ten minutes. Kat ripped the padding out of one her swimsuits and snuggled herself into it.� If you didn't notice her jiggling slightly, and the gentle curves peeking out from the fabric, you would never have guessed that Katrina had finally become, as she put it,� a real girl that night.

"I'm thirty-one years old!" she crowed, "but I feel like I'm thirteen.� This is what should have happened to me at thirteen.� This is what happens to girls."

"I think you're making a bit much of this, Kat.� I mean, they're just breasts.� Most girls have them."

"Jared" she implored.� "You don�t understand how inadequate, how substandard, how defective I've felt all my life. Let me ask you a very, very intimate question, if I may presume upon our friendship to that degree."

"Go ahead."

"What if your penis was the same length and thickness it was when you were ten years old?� How would you feel?"

It was an intimate question, and I swallowed hard.� "I see your point, Kat."

She smiled from ear to ear, and then bit her lower lip again.�� "I can't wait until next month."

A couple of days later, Kat called my apartment. She said if I wasn't doing anything, I could go shopping with her and a friend.� I agreed, and she said they'd pick me up in a half an hour.� Kat bounded up the stairs two or three at a time, and I let her in.� She was a wonder.� Her hair, always one of her best features, she had permed so that it now no longer straight to her hips, but long and frizzy.

"You did your hair. It looks good."� I remarked.

She ran a hand through her tresses. "I got a new 'do for a new me, Jared.� I know it�s not much, but I don't feel like I've got anything to hide anymore.� I want people to look at me, to admire me.� I want to be beautiful for them, and for myself."

"You were always beautiful, Katrina" I responded.� "Maybe now, you'll start to believe it"

Kat's friend, a tall brunette named Jan, was driving a white Chrysler convertible.� I had never met her before.� "Its nice you want to come and help Katrina and I buy her some lingerie, Jared.� Not many guys would agree to that."

"Well, if I had known..."�� Well, there went my day, I thought.� Still, for Kat, this is probably a novelty.

Jan continued to talk as we drove to the mall.� "Katrina's told me all about you, Jared, and all about how you're helping her with her problem."

"I don't think Kat really had a problem, Jan"�

Removing her sunglasses from her face, Jan turned to me and smiled. "You're sweet to say that.� Are you sure you aren't, you know, an item?"

Kat answered for me.� "Jared's my closest friend, Jan.� He's more than any boyfriend could ever be for me, but we're smart enough to realize we aren't each other's type."

"What Kat means is that she�s gone and got a Ph.D., and I'm a plumbing supply sales representative with an A.A from the Community College."

Jan nodded as if she understood the dynamics between Kat and me a little better. "There's absolutely nothing wrong with that, Jared.

"Well, don't you even dare think of moving in on him!!" Katrina warned her.

"Oh, I wouldn't dream of it. I can tell he's one in a million!"

The girls decided to try Victoria's Secret first, since Kat have never been there.�� Soon, the unctuous salesgirl had Jan and Kat loaded down with bras and we were heading for the fitting room.� "Wait a minute!"� Kat exclaimed, "I don't even know my size."��

"You look to be a large A, small B, honey", the salesgirl replied. "Just try on the undergarments.� Some will be snug, and others will be loose. Don't worry about the label.� Each manufacturer makes them a little different."

Jan and I had a chance to talk while Kat was in the fitting room.� "So, she was completely flat-chested before the eleventh?� I know how that feels." I glanced at Jan's chest.� It was very respectable, larger than Katrina's, but not ostentatiously big.� She had a decent rack.

"Ha, ha!� I caught ya looking!�� Yeah, I'm OK now, but I was a late bloomer.�� I didn't have anything on top until my sophomore year in college.� Then the cavalry finally came galloping in!� I went from nothing to a 36C in less than three months.� So I know exactly how Katrina feels.� She feels like she's been let out of prison."

Katrina interrupted us from time to time to solicit our opinions on various intimate articles. I thought they all looked great.� Kat's breasts, I had to admit, did look good on her.� They fit her.� She especially was fond of a little blue number with a Velcro something in the front that allowed her to pull her breasts together or let them separate as she adjusted the tiny strap.

"I had no idea these things were so complicated" I admitted to Jan.

"A lot of a how a woman treats the world is tied up in how she thinks she looks to the world, and breasts are a very important part of that, but I don't need to be telling you" she explained.� "You can see for yourself what a difference it�s made in Katrina.� Anyway, I've thought of a way to help Katrina make a little money doing some modeling on the side."

Scarcely able to contain my surprise, I blurted out my objection.� "I thought models were finished at, what 26, 27?� Kat's 31."

She has an advantage, Jared.� Gravity hasn't yet set in on her.� And she has great skin.� She looks ten years younger than 31."���

Katrina overheard us in the fitting room.� "Yeah, I'm gonna be a model, I'm gonna be a model.� I'm going to explain quantum phenomena while selling blue jeans to girls in middle school!"

"That's great, Kat"� I assured her. "I hope it�s a positive experience for you."� It took another hour and a half, even with Jan's practiced eye for lingerie, for Katrina to make up her mind, and for us to pay and leave.

I only saw her once before our next "appointment".� In the meantime, I had met another girl named Moira, a dancer with the Metro Ballet.� She lived in Kat's neighborhood, not far from her.� As I was driving over to pick her up for a date, I decided to swing by Kat's�� Kat was washing her car in her driveway.� She had a pair of cut-off jeans and a halter top, and was leaning over the hood of the car.� I saw the gentle curves of her breasts sway as she bent over to reach some spot on the� hood.� I honked, and she waved.� I felt very good for her.

The next full moon fell on the seventh. I was there a half hour before sundown, and Kat was in a lather of excitement and anticipation.� "Do you know?� I paid Mrs. Gessner another $1000 with my first modeling check."� She laughed and bit her lower lip.� "Actually, I had to use $450 of my tax refund to make up the difference, but this is worth every penny!"�� I had brought a bottle of wine for "celebrating" afterwards, and as soon as we could see the rim of the moon peek above the horizon, we retired to Kat's bedroom, where I applied another handful to her chest.

The response of Kat's breasts to my ministrations was as rapid as the first time.� I didn't see them grow, but I could feel that I each time I circled her breasts with my hands, there was more of Kat there to massage. Her breasts felt bulkier, thicker, and heavier with each pass.� When I finished, I saw that Kat had about doubled in size. Her breasts, from the front, were still round, but a lot larger, covering more of her chest wall, and standing out more.� Her areole had widened and darkened slightly, but the thing that I found most fascinating was their flawless shape.� They looked like the little drops of water left on a tree branch after a summer shower - the tops narrow, and the bottoms full and curved.� The shadows underneath, the two semi-circles of darkness that framed her breasts on the bottom, announced the success of our endeavors.

"Hey, these are looking great, Kat.� You must be delighted.� You know, you're going to be the love-goddess of the Theoretical Physics convention this fall."

Kat was cupping her breasts and crying.� I put my arm out to comfort her.� "They're so beautiful" she wept.� That night, she put on one of the bras she had just bought, and found it completely inadequate for the task of supporting the new Kat.� The miniscule cups bit into her breasts, and she peeked out from both sides, as well as from underneath.� "I guess I've outgrown that one!" she laughed.�� I hope I can afford to keep myself in underwear."

Our company got an order for some plumbing supplies at the University, and I volunteered to drop them off figuring I could drop in on Kat and make grab some coffee with her.�

I found the physics department and walked down the corridor when I heard Kat's voice coming in from one of the rooms.� I stuck my head in, and there she was, surrounded by a group of her students, lecturing them on something I couldn't figure out what.� What astounded me was how she was dressing.� I had never seen Kat dress with such flair before. She was sporting a flame-red oriental-themed floral print silk dress, with a high collar, but a plunging neckline open to the second button.�� This afforded ample view of Kat's new breasts, the tops of which played peek-a-boo constantly through the open neckline as Kat scribbled on the blackboard.� The dress tapered in on Kat's fine narrow waist and flared outward again, falling to her knees.� Resting one five-inch black pump on a chair,� she was able to flash a patch of leg as well,� through a slit that went to mid thigh.

This was a side of Kat I hadn't ever seen before.�� The students, mostly guys, were transfixed, I had to shake my head myself, but then Kat saw me.� She excused herself.� "Jared.� It is so good of you to drop in on me like this!"� She turned me towards her students.� "Class, this is my good friend Jared Camp.� Jared, this is Mr. Reilly, Mr. Washington, Mr. Angelopolous, Mr. Ferriera, Mr. Hong, and Ms. Wescott-Tenney, and uh, Julie, I think, Julie Fastingas."� She grabbed my arm and escorted me through the students, down the hallway and out onto the University concourse.

"I dropped some supplies off at Engineering, Kat.� I was hoping you could have some coffee with me."

"I'd love that" she replied, taking my arm.

While we were drinking our coffee, I complemented her on the dress.� "Oh, this?� It�s wonderful isn't it? Jan let me keep it from a shoot."� She giggled a bit, and bit her lower lip.� "I've got the Physics department in lather.� The chair, old Dr. Lassiter, doesn't know what to do about the new hussy."� I laughed as well.� Kat the hussy.� It was an engaging thought.� Several co-eds said hello to Kat as they walked by, and Kat returned their greetings.� "I never had the equipment before, Jared.� I mean, I might have had the personality for it, I must have, but I never believed I could pull it off.� I'm really enjoying myself. �She excused herself to talk to one striking blond girl, and then came back to the table.�

"You sure seem to be popular with your students, Dr. Van Dyke", I teased her.

She laughed like a little bird.� It was so good to hear her laugh so confidently.� "They aren't students of mine.� I work with them at Jan's agency."

We did the new moon that month at my place.� I was kind of put out that Kat brought Jan along, with some guy.�� Jan and the guy sat in the car outside while she climbed the stairs to my apartment, shopping bag firmly in hand.� "Who's the guy, Kat?" I asked.� "Someone Jan's trying to set you up with?"

"That's her new boyfriend Brad. Some guy she met in a coffee shop while you were out of town" I smiled. "Well, let�s give them something to think about, shall we?"� I lathered up my hands with the lotion and positioned them over each of Kat's waiting breasts.� She leaned into me and sighed.� I began massaging her, and once again I felt her breasts respond to my touch, growing and swelling.� "I was a 34-C last month, Jared.� I wonder what I'll be this month Jan bought me three new bras, different sizes.� I hope one of them fits."

I kept massaging Katrina's swelling breasts gently with both hands. Each time I played my fingers across her breasts it seemed there was a little more of Kat to grab.� She was more than a handful now for certain.� I could feel the weight, the resistance.� She was getting bigger.

"My breasts are getting bigger, Jared.� I can feel it.� They weigh more.� They pull down harder."

When we finished, Katrina cupped her hands under her now bigger breasts.� "Jared, I can't believe this!� I'm stacked.� Would you just get a look at these puppies?"�� She stood up and posed in the mirror, the increased size and diameter took our breath away.� Kat let out a long, low whistle. "I don�t look like a physics professor.� I look like a stripper" she admitted.

It was true.� Katrina was no longer event an "average" girl.� Her breasts were now large and heavy, and jutted out aggressively.� Although still well-shaped, they were slightly oblong more than spherical, and they pulled to each side.� Katrina pushed them together with the sides of her hands.� She hoisted one and brought it up about level with her chin.� Then she began to jump about from side to side, her new titties rising and falling with each bounce.

"Uh, Kat, Moira's going to be picking me up at eight.� How am I going to explain a stripper with a Ph.D. in my bedroom?"

Kat laughed.� "Oh, I get it.� When I was flat-chested, I was no threat to your little girlfriends, but now that I'm hot, you can't show me around."

Katrina found that the 34D she had bought was too small, but fortunately she bought one a size larger, a 34DD that fit her like a glove.� It gently brought her two wayward breasts together, creating a spectacular cleavage.�

"Wow, cleavage!"� Katrina crowed with palpable pride. "I've got cleavage!� Watch out, world.� This little Kat's starting to growl!� With cleavage!"

She gave me a peck on one cheek.� That�s for the cleavage."� Then she bussed me lightly on the other.� "That's for being a sport, and sharing this with me.�� Then she kissed me square on the lips, pressing her big soft newly-sprouted double-Ds into my chest. "And that's for being a better friend than I deserve."� My chest tingled from the impression Kat had made well into the night.� Moira, when she arrived, found me a bit distracted.

A week from that Saturday, I got a call from Kat at two in the morning.� "He did it!� Jared!� He did it!� He asked me out!"

"Who?� Kat?� Who asked you out?"�

"Dr. Davies.� We went to dinner and then out dancing!"

I grunted �What happened to the fianc�e from Hell?"

Kat laughed over the telephone.� "I don't know. He didn't even mention her."

"Can we get together some time this week, Kat?"

"Of course we can. Why don't you stop by Jan's place?� Its over near your place."

That night, I found Jan's studio in a warehouse district down the street from my company.� I had no idea it was even there.� There was a sign outside that read "New Media Studios" that matched the business card Kat had sent me.� I knocked on the door, and a small dark-haired Asian girl answered.� She wasn't wearing much, a bikini and high heels, but she let me in.

"I'm here to see Dr. Van Dyke"� I informed her.�� I had no idea what I had let myself in for. There were several girls, college aged and maybe a little older, running around in various stages of undress.� The Asian girl ran off, and came back with the stunning blonde Kat had spoken with at the University. "You're looking for Kat, I'll bet. She's just now finishing up a shoot in Studio 2.� Sit over there."� She indicated a row of chairs in an antiseptic-looking office.� I sat and waited for my friend. It was hard for me to imagine her here in this circus atmosphere.� A door opened in the hall.� The blonde stuck her head inside.

"Someone's here for you, Kat" she informed her.� Kat stepped out into the hall in the most outlandish outfit I had ever seen.� Someone had teased out her thick blonde hair, and her large, softball-sized breasts were just barely held by a chain-mesh bikini top obviously designed for a smaller woman.� In fact, about the only thing they did was cover Kat's nipples.� The rest of her, top, sides and bottom, all stuck out. She had a matching chain-mesh thong, and a pair of high heeled boots that came to mid-thigh.� She was carrying a whip.

"What the hell are you doing here, Kat?� This place looks like a whorehouse."� Some of the girls looked my way when I said that.

"I just finished a fem-dom shoot, Jared.� I've made nearly a thousand dollars already tonight, and we've only just done three shots."

"Fem-dom?"

Katrina laughed.� She attempted to adjust the bikini top, but soon gave up that fruitless endeavor.� But she smiled.� She looked good, and it looked like she knew it.

"Female domination.� Women dominating other women.� According to Jan, I dominate these other models because my breasts are larger than theirs.� Guys love it.� My last shoot, The Professor of Sexology, is getting over a ten thousand downloads a day, pay-per-view, at $3.95 a download."

"I don't know if this was what I had in mind when I signed up for this little adventure, Kat. Actually, I was kind of hoping we could just kind of sit and talk like we used to, before you got so busy."

Kat bit her lower lip.� "I'm sorry, Jared.� But this is all good clean fun. The photographers, the writers, all the models, we�re all women.� Its fun my being a sexy den-mother to these college girls.� We have such fun together.� I've never done anything like this, you know.� I've been a bit straight-laced all my life.�� I had to be. It�s kind of nice to relax a bit, make some new friends, hang with a younger crowd, and get paid for it.

Kat grabbed my arm. "How's Moira?" she asked.

"Moira's cool.� She knows what a good friend you've always been for me ."

"But she's never met me.� And she never knew me before..."

I was getting impatient.� "Moira is one part of my life, Kat.� You are another.� You both mean a great deal to me, in different ways.�� Nobody will ever be able to take your place, especially now, that we've gone through this, this transformation together.� This is very special.� It�s been like watching you unfold, petal by petal, like a beautiful flower. I'm so glad your life is working out for you."

She smiled, took my hand, and gave me another deep, breast-pressing kiss.� It was a while before I caught my breath. Then someone, Jan maybe, called her back inside for another shoot.

Things were progressing well with Moira.� She came from a hard-scrabble background; father a truck driver, her mother a LPRN, practicing her ballet in the afternoons on her own at the YMCA. She knew what it meant to work hard, to sacrifice for something.� So, she didn't look down on me. But I had to tell her I had to help Kat with something that night.� It wasn't getting easier to do this.

By the he night of the full moon, Kat had arranged everything like a romantic dinner date.� There were flowers on the table, wine in the ice bucket, roast duck in the oven,� We ate a wonderful dinner, then I turned off the lights in Kat's bedroom and threw the curtains open to allow the moonlight to saturate the room. Kat was ready, stripped to the waist, finishing her final cup of wine.� I dipped my hand in the lotion, then reached out and steadied one big breast with it.�� I scooped out some more lotion onto my other and gently kneaded it into the other breast.� I could feel Kat's already large breasts ballooning outward in instant response.�

I was going mostly by touch.� The silvery moonlight illuminated but did not make details clear.� I could see Kat's nipples, and I could see her hair and her face.� It seemed to me as though Kat's breasts were beginning to drop slightly from the perky firmness they had exhibited until now.� If anything they were becoming softer, more like gelatin, heavier, and bulkier, and harder to handle.� Several times they escaped from my grasp and I had to go hunting for them as they bobbled across Kat's rib cage.��

Finally, though, it was time to turn on the lights and measure the result of our labors.� Kat gasped as the lights came on.� She was now, quite simply, enormous.� Although her breasts were no longer what could by any stretch of the imagination be called perky, they were far from sloppy or malformed.� The tops of her breasts began just under her collarbone, and sloped outward on either side of her chest in a gentle curve that came no real resolution as they had when she was smaller. Even so, her nipples didn't point to the floor, but pointed outward and away at about 30 degrees.� Underneath the nipples, Kat's breasts continued for another five of six inches, until they reached to just above her navel, at which point they folded in upon themselves.

They really did have the shape of two light bulbs now, with the tips near the collarbone, and the head down by her navel, except that they would be light bulbs for a lighthouse, or a searchlight.� But I noticed, yes, the shape, the curves were the same.

Kat grabbed her voluminous breasts with both hands and lifted them.� They were wonderfully pliable and took whatever form she wanted them to. She pressed them together until they nearly became flattened pancakes, the areole elongating into thick lines. Then she put her arms underneath and passed her forearms through her cleavage until each rested on the breast opposite.� This had the effect of turning them into almost perfect spheres, the size of dime-store globe banks.

"Woahh!"�� Kat exclaimed as she viewed her new bounty. "Why don't they stick out like they used to?"

"That's what big breasts look like, Kat� I responded. "They're big, and they're made out of fat, mostly, so they just sort of hang there.� They look pretty good, though, Kat.� I mean, at least they don't droop or hang below your waist like big stockings on a clothesline."

But Kat had already found a way to amuse herself.� She noticed that even the slightest movement of her shoulders caused a correspondingly much greater movement in her gigantic breasts.� Shrugging her shoulder slightly, in a particular rhythm, caused her breasts to rise practically up to her ears, then to plunge practically to her crotch.

She was lost in calculations of the physics involved when I touched her on the shoulder.� "Watch you don't hurt yourself, Kat.� There are no ligaments in those things.� There's nothing to bring them back where they belong if you stretch them out� Kat came to herself with a giggle.� "Ironic isn't it, Jared?� Six months ago I was terrified about my foam padding coming loose during class and riding up my chest."� Her left arm cradled her immense breast in a wide crook as her index finger traced the outline of her tea-platter sized areola.� "Now, I have a whole different set of concerns.� Wondering whether my shoes match.� Knocking things over in the cafeteria line.� Maybe even standing upright."

"But you won't have to worry about foam padding."

She hoisted her huge breasts together so that the nipples pointed straight at the mirror together.� "No, I won't have to worry about that."

You're OK, aren't you?� I mean, you don't think you're too big now?� I mean, 'cause I'd like to go home and give Moira a call before I go to bed."

"You're really hitting it off with Moira, aren't you, Jared.� I am so glad for you, especially after your engagement to Rosalyn fell through."� I absolutely have to meet her some day."

I washed my hands in Kat's sink and made ready to leave.� "Moira's an incredible girl, Kat.�� I told you.� She's smart, talented, plucky, determined.� Still, I would much rather wait until you're safely engaged to Dr. Chad Davies, Kat. I mean, no offense intended, but you look like a porn star.� If Moira was to catch me with you, I'd be history.� How are things going with the good doctor, anyway?

"We've seen each other for lunch about five times. This Friday, we're supposed to go to the theatre.� And get this!� He told me he broke it off with the Breast She-Devil, although I think I'm probably woman enough now to pay her back in her own coin."

"What does he think about your boobs?"

Kat bit her lip again.� "Oh, he likes my boobs.� God, that sounds scandalous coming from my lips. 'He..likes..my..boobs.'� Its like the last two words were never meant to go together, and the first two are totally coincidental.� Actually, he can't keep his eyes off of them.� Or his hands."

"That was a little more than I wanted to know, Kat.�� It looks like our little mutual support society is breaking apart."� Kat grabbed my wine glass and hers, and filled them both. It was kind of funny to watch her do it.� Her breasts kept getting in the way, and she had to pour the wine out of the bottle at arm's length. "Alas, dear soul, we women are fated to live our shapes, whatever they may be.� But here's to mutual help and support!"

"To friendship!� The most disinterested, and thus, the purest, of all loves."

IV

The next time I saw Kat was on the Internet.� One of the horn-dogs I work with was abusing company computational resources, and had logged onto some website called Mother Nature's or some such, and was running a tape loop of an enormously endowed young woman trying to wrestle her oversized breasts into a series of undersized, for her, undergarments, all of which were unsuitable for the gifted young woman, but which would have made an average woman feel although she was dancing solo under the Capitol dome.�� At first, I laughed, but then I realized that the young woman was none other than Kat.� I called her that night at Jan's and told her what I had seen.

"Isn't that a hoot, Jared?�� Men are so easy to manipulate." she giggled.� "I've had a paper on the qualities of muons in n-dimensional space up on the University's web site since 1998, and I don't think I've gotten forty hits on it.� Now, I come in to Jan's Monday night with my big shiny new breasts, and I'm rummaging around looking for a bra to fit me.� Jan grabs a hand cam and records about five minutes of my discomfort, which she throws on the website as a teaser.�� Result?� 100,000 download in two hours.� Yeah, you guys have your priorities in the right place."

A couple of days later, I got a message from Kat on my answering machine.

�Jared - this is Kat.� You�ll never believe this, but I�m going to have to receive an award at the University from the AAAS.� Chad is going to do the honors for me, so I figure this�ll be a good time to introduce me to Moira.� Please let me know by Friday, huh?� The dinner is Saturday, so I�ve only got four days to have Jan dress me for this.� Oh yes, it�s black tie.�

Wow.� That was short notice.� Fortunately Moira is the queen of looking New York-great on short notice.� She�s tall and slender, as dancers tend to be. She looks flawless in your basic black dress, hose, and modest heels, with her dark hair pulled back, her elegant neck, and her Audrey Hepburn eyes.� Of course, I look like a block of wood in a tuxedo, but hey, between Kat and Moira, who was going to pay any attention to me?

As guests of the prize recipient, we were seated at Kat�s table, along with the chairman of the department, the president of the University, and a couple of board members.� Fortunately, Jan and Brad were there as well.� It gave us someone to talk to.

�Jared!��� Jan scolded me.� �You never told us you had such a beautiful girlfriend.�

�I keep that fact to myself, Jan.� You see, I hope to keep her as a girlfriend.�

Moira slapped me on my upper arm in feigned disgust.� �Jared is too modest.�

All conversation ended, though, as Kat and Chad entered the room.� Not that Chad mattered.� He just happened to be with Kat.� Still, he was gorgeous.� Even I could see that.� I could see why she was attracted to him.� He was tall, a little weathered-looking� But, from the moment she entered, all eyes were on Kat and Kat alone.

Visual inspiration for Chad

�My God, Jan, you are an absolute genius� I conceded to her.� Kat entered the hall in a magnificent dress inspired by the gown of the Minoan Snake Goddess, with a white scarf draped across her shoulders and trailing nearly to the floor.�

Leaning over, Jan recounted the details to Moira and me.� �There�s absolutely no way Kat could hide that bust, and I don�t believe she should have to, even at an upscale affair like this.� The Minoan theme is already associated in people�s minds with a large-breasted woman, so I thought; why not work that into the motif?�� That way even a girl like Kat can show off what she has, without anybody�s panties getting twisted in a knot.� I cut the patterns out in black triple velvet, especially since Kat would have destroyed a flimsier fabric by the end of the night.

�She has a corset on underneath, of course.� That frees up her shoulders, so we can start revealing what we want of the bust.� With a dress like that, people are going to expect some cleavage.� Kat�s got it and to spare.�� But you will notice that we bring the neckline only half-way down Kat�s bust.� We cover the rest, and you really can�t see it against the rest of the dress.� It�s only when you see her from the side you get any indication of just how very big she really is.

The sleeves also minimize her bust.� There�s no covering it up, but the gold brocade running down the sleeves and down the sides of the dress also guide the eyes away from Kat�s bust.� And then, you see, all the real visual action is in the lower part of the gown.� That�s were we sewed in the inner cotton panels with the peacocks, bull-dancers, and the flowers.� See, as she walks, they open.�

Moira also complemented Jan on her sartorial flair.� Then she directed her attention to me.� �So that�s your famous friend Kat?� She�s magnificent.� And you�re right.� If she didn�t have such a good looking boyfriend, you�d be history.�

Chad pulled out Kat�s chair for her as she sat down, and the festivities, if you want to call them that, began.� The supper was superb, fortunately, and they were generous with the wine, so that by the time the president of the University and the chair of Kat�s department got up to have their say, everyone was very patient and even-tempered.

Then the representative of the American Association for the Advancement of Science stood and began his presentation.� He cited Kat�s accomplishments in her field, the research she had done, the work she had done promoting physics education at the secondary and Community College level.� He unveiled the plaque, and his face reddened as he turned to address Kat.

�We in the scientific community honor our colleagues for their contributions to Science.� We at the AAAS believe we have chosen to honor an outstanding scientist for just that reason.� Yet, in the tradition of Lady Ada Byron, Marija Gimbutas, and Marie Curie,�� I hope it never become politically incorrect to say that I am delighted to find that such a fine scientist is also an utterly charming lady.�

Jan winced.� �Oh no, now the green-eyed crowd is going to accuse the Association of giving Kat the award for her looks.�� However, Kat extended her hand to the representative, who politely assisted her to her feet, and then he presented the award and the check.� Despite Jan�s misgivings, it appeared that the representative�s opinion was also the majority opinion, as the guests stood to their feet and applauded long and heartily.� Kat had to raise her hand to get them to stop.

Jan whispered to us as Kat made her acceptance speech.� �The white scarf�s also a big help, isn�t it?�� We nodded our agreement, and after Kat�s speech, the party just sort of dissolved.� I know I was presented to a lot of important-looking and important-acting people whose names I will never remember. Very soon, though,� it was the six of us making plans for a nightcap at the Blue Tempo.

Kat had taken ballet lessons as a girl, so she and Moira hit it off instantly.� Chad, on the other hand, displayed an uncommon sophistication about dance, hell, to put it bluntly, he knew fifty times more about what Moira did than I do.� At the Blue Tempo, while Brad, Jan, Kat and I talked about Jan and Kat�s work, or about university politics, Chad and Moira were deep in discussions about dancers Moira had worked with, ballets she had performed in, whether she hoped to do more modern dance or jazz improv in the future.

I noticed, though, that his eyes never strayed far from Kat�s neckline.

At the end of the night, Jan stood up to invite us all to another party.� �Kat, you�ve made us suffer through your boring scientist party.��� Now, I want you to invite these good people to a real knickers-twister.� We�ll be opening the new digs of Jankat Productions next week, and I want all of you to be there.�

Kat giggled and grabbed Chad�s arm.� Moira grabbed mine.� �Yes, you must come.� It�ll be at 9pm next Saturday at our new studios on Wainwright Boulevard.�

A broad smile broke out on Chad�s disgustingly rugged face.� �Wainwright Boulevard, huh?� Jankat must be doing alright.�

�Well, we were out on Reynolds Road� Jan added.

Chad threw his leonine head back and laughed.� �My goodness, from the pits to the Ritz!�

On the way home, Moira had her head on my shoulder.� �Your company�s out on Reynolds Road, isn�t it?� That wasn�t very nice of him.� Thousands of people work out on Reynolds road, they earn their livings there, then go back and raise their families.� We can�t all work up on the Hill.�

�Or downtown in the City?�

�Don�t you start that!� Chad meant it, you don�t.� You know where I come from.�

�It was the merlot talking, Moira� I said, appeasing her.

�Well, he needs work� she observed, and was quiet for the rest of the night.

The next morning, Kat was on the second page of the newspaper.� Obviously, someone had found out about her �other life�, because the headline read �Scientist by Day, Web Goddess by Night��� There was a picture, taken at the award dinner, and a column of text describing Kat�s work at the University, and her moonlighting at Jankat Productions, a purveyor of subscription R-rated material over the Internet and other new media outlets.� It also noted that Jankat Productions, recently renamed from New Media Studios, was relocating to their new location in the prestigious Lighthouse Hill district.

The article ended with a statement from the head of Kat�s department.� Despite the unconventional nature of Dr. Van Dyke�s artistic pursuits, he said, she had never compromised the reputation of the Department or the University in any way.� Her scientific achievements stood on their own merits as a rebuke to anything her detractors might say, and he was honored to have her as an integral part of his faculty and research staff.

Not bad, Kat, I thought.� Not bad at all.

If I had to dress up for the University banquet, I definitely needed to dress down for the Jankat soiree.� Luckily, I had a friend at work who loaned me his Harley for the night, and I was able to dig my leather jacket and Ray-bans out from the back of the closet.� Moira, as always, looked flawless, even in her "creature of the night" incarnation.� She had the whole Goth thing going; henna in the hair, the dark lips, the pale face, and the black, lace-trimmed baby-doll shift cut practically to her womanhood, with the black laced-up -heel mid-thigh boots.� We set off for the party with Moira hanging on behind me, her leather-clad thighs gripping my ass.� She had to shout over the roar of the motor.

"I better be able to get you out on the dance floor tonight, Jared.� This outfit set me back a week's pay.� It costs serious money to look this dangerous."

"Dancing with you is like going one-on-one with Michael Jordan, babe.� Just let me know if I'm making a fool of myself."

"You shouldn't put yourself down so much, Jared.�� You're a good dancer, and you're getting better.� You know how to lead a woman without imposing on her. Not many guys can do that."

We pulled up to the party already in progress. The valets said we could park the bike at the entrance, as there were several others to keep it company.� Jan had stationed herself in front of the tall blue-glass facade that was the entrance to the brand new building.� She was greeting her guests dressed in a very incongruous Brownies den-mother outfit from the seventies, complete with sash and troop numbers.� Jan had made a few modifications.� Looking at some of the merit badges on her sash, I felt certain that no Brownie troop had ever offered these particular badges.�

"Hey, guys!� Glad you could make it!" she shouted, kissing Moira on the cheek.�� "Yes, yes, den momma Jan, that's me!� Brad's doing the bar in the foyer, dancing's on the second floor. The grand tour starts at ten.� Don't be late."

Brad was swamped, but he found the time to pour me a Hennessey and whip up a killer mango margarita for Moira.� Then, we wandered off towards the live music filtering down from the second floor, where a very decent horn band was just warming up.

Their first set was Miami-style salsa, which I can dance.� Moira, of course, was incandescent, her long legs flying everywhere, but with the control and precision of a Swiss clock.� Fortunately, they slowed it down after that, and Moira and I locked arms around each other.� During the second song, though, I felt a gentle pressure in my back just under my shoulder blade and the touch of someone�s hand on my upper arm.� I turned to face a completely transformed Kat, in a purple bustier with black trim, black garters, black stockings, and black stiletto heels.

.�No charming lady scientist tonight, I�m afraid��� Kat was dressed as outrageously as she had been exotic yet demure at the University dinner.� She was pressed into a blue teddy with red feathery trim, yellow garters and yellow hose, and red high-heeled boots.� There was a �S� insignia, backwards to avoid copyright violations, emblazoned on her chest.

Moira gave Kat a hug around the neck.� �So, you�re in the super-heroine business now, Kat?� Tell me, do you shatter evil-doers with your fists of fury?� Do you leap tall buildings with a single bound?�

Kat laughed infectiously.� �No, dear, I definitely don�t do much leaping or shattering.�� She gestured with her hands to draw our attention to the largest, most impressive, and most mysteriously supported expanse of bosom I had ever seen.� �I mangle them between my mighty Breasts of Doom.� she shouted triumphantly, raising her arms and clenching her fists.

�Well, at least they�ll die with a smile on their face� Moira commented.� �No kidding, Kat, you look terrific.� I don�t mean to pry, but how do you keep all of that under control?�

�That�s Jan�s work of course.� She�s is so good at what she does.� A little elastic, a few well-designed supports sewn in, and voila!� Even a big girl like me can move with the panther-like grace of a hard-body ballerina like you, Moira�� To prove her point, Kat turned sharply on the balls of her feet in a tight pirouette.� Unfortunately, the crowd was tight and she walloped a passing guest on the side of the face, knocking him off balance and sending the drinks he was carrying clattering across the floor.

�Breasts of doom, indeed� I observed.�

�Oh God, that happens to me so often these days.� Kat apologized.� �I knock over lamps, glasses on the table.� I�m not really used to being this size yet.� It takes the brain�s image of the body a while to adjust to the way the body actually is.�

Moira nodded her head.� �That happened to me when I was thirteen.�� I grew five inches in as many months.� I thought I�d never dance again.� You mean to tell me that those are a recent development?� At your age?� Girlfriend, you�ve hit some kind of jackpot��

�That�s true; she was as flat-chested as an Olympic gymnast when I met her back in April.� Look at her now, though.� If she told us what vitamins she�s been taking, we�d all be rich!�� Chad had come up behind us carrying a strawberry daiquiri for Kat.� �Hello, honey.� Brad and I finally got relieved at the bar.�� He shook my hand, and Moira�s.�

�Chad, why don�t I give all of you the nickel tour now?� It�ll be so crowded and impersonal at 10, or whenever Jan gets around to it.� Then you can hear my story.�

Kat took us up to the third floor, where the sets were.� �This is what sets us apart from most other New Media operations.� We don�t scrimp on the background or lighting.� Of course, it doesn�t hurt to have a Ph.D. in physics to help with the optics and acoustics.�

Moira settled herself into a director�s chair, one long boot-clad leg draped over the arm.� �So, what exactly do you make here?� Pornography?�

Kat leaned back against a prop table.� �We prefer to call it erotica.� I know that sounds like just so much bullshit, but we don�t show anything explicitly sexual, although we could probably quadruple our revenue overnight if we got into hardcore.� Jan doesn�t want to; because she says it would cut into her Web design and fashion design divisions.� The �erotic� label adds a cachet of sophistication to our other enterprises, where as the �pornographic� label is the kiss of death.�

Locating a DVD, she slipped into a player.� �These are some of my teasers� she explained.� �We put them up for free on the front page of the Web site in order to entice people inside.� Here, watch what I do in my spare time.�

The screen flickered to life, showing Kat on a tennis court in a flimsy cotton tennis dress with a perilously low neckline, which afforded ample play to Kat�s enormous breasts, obviously entirely unhindered by any restraining foundational garments.� Her unseen opponent batted the ball to different parts of the court, and Kat had to run furiously about returning the volley.� This caused her breasts to strain and surge against the neckline of her flimsy top.� It soon became apparent that the poor scrap of fabric would lose the unequal battle, and Kat would inevitably tumble out into plain view.

�It helps to know the tolerances of these fabrics� Kat bragged.� She tugged gently at the neckline of her teddy, as if her huge breasts needed more air.� �These babies generate thousands of pounds per square inch pressure against anything that tries to hold them back.� Look, there goes a button!�

Sure enough, Kat had to stretch to her left to catch one shot, and the force of her breasts straining to go in the same direction ripped the top button of her shirt away from its eyelet.� This exposed Kat�s areole and nipples.� The bottom half of the shirt carried on bravely for about thirty more seconds, until Kat had to reach up for a shot that was going over her head, and both mighty globes exploded into full view.

From here, the director switched to showing Kat chasing after low shots, bending over to hit balls that were close to the pavement.� At one point, I winced, afraid that one of Kat�s breasts would eventually slap against the concrete.� Then the teaser ended with Kat walking towards the camera smiling, with a half dozen tennis balls wedged tightly in her cleavage.

�Show off!� Chad accused her.� The next �teaser� was basically a repeat of the first, except that it showed Kat playing basketball against several tall college girls that I recognized as part of Kat�s group.� Kat played aggressively, slapping the other players with her immense breasts and knocking them off balance.� Eventually, the abuse she put on her uniform again resulted in her naked breasts being exposed.� From this point on, the cameraman lost no opportunity in comparing Kat�s breasts to the basketball, showing that there was very little difference in size.� The final shot showed Kat�s team in the winner�s circle, jumping up and down in celebration of their victory, with Kat�s naked breasts flaying about madly, knocking into them.

The last one was a complete hoot.� It opened with Kat walking outside in a very, very skimpy bikini.�� As she walked down the street, the cameraman caught people�s reactions to Kat and her jaw-dropping figure.� Then, unexpectedly, the camera shifted to show how these reactions might have been experienced by Kat�s breasts themselves.� One man walked into a lamppost.� Another dropped a mustard-soaked hotdog into his lap.� Angry wives pulled their husbands out of harm�s way.� One girl beat her boyfriend over the head and shoulders with her purse before storming off in tears.�� The sound was as flawless as the video quality.� I really felt sorry for the poor guy beating purse-whipped by his jealous girlfriend.� I heard every whack.

�How on earth did you do that?� asked Moira.

Kat turned her back to Chad, and pressed hard against the front of her bodice.� This caused her boobs to erupt upwards, but it also gave Chad enough play to manipulate Kat�s zipper in the back.� I heard the rasp of the zipper, and Kat wrestled one great breast loose from her harness.� �Phew!� That�s getting to be a lot of work� she said before repeating her performance on the other side.�� Her released breasts seemed to expand after being cooped up all evening.� I could only imagine how it felt to be Kat now.� Her breasts hung nearly to her navel, but they didn�t droop.� They projected outward from Kat�s chest wall in two great piriform masses, and I estimated that I could probably insert my forearm nearly to the elbow into the chasm between them.

�Well, hello girls� Kat chuckled.� She lifted her right breast with both hands.� �This is Hermione.� She�s kind of shy and retiring��� She dropped Hermione, who plunged nearly to her crotch before wobbling back into place.� ��whereas Gwendolyn here is a bit of a slut.� Very naughty, Gwendolyn is.�

Kat walked over to a closet and pulled out a hand held video camera.� She opened her breasts and inserted the camera between them.� As her breasts closed over the camera, we could just see the lens aperture and the tiny nub of the microphone peeking out between �Hermione� and �Gwendolyn�.�

�It�s done with a couple of adhesive strips on the sides of the camera� Kat explained. Then she told me to switch on the TV monitor that was right next to me.� I did so, and when it came to life, there we were, captured on Kat�s booby cam.

Chad exploded in laughter.� �That�s the best thing I�ve seen in years!� he chortled.� Katrina nestled up towards Moira and pointed her chest at her face.� Moira�s face expanded to fill the screen as Kat moved in closer.� �This is the famous ballerina, Moira Martini, and her not so famous escort, Jared Bledsoe.�� Moira waved.� �Hi� she said, and then Kat swung her breasts around to capture my foolish grin on the screen.

�Hello, Hermione!� Hello, Gwendolyn!� I sputtered inanely.� Then Kat zeroed her boobs in on Chad.� �Oh look here.� It�s the scrumptious Chad Davies!� She kept coming closer and closer to him and his face filled the TV screen.

�Oh, is that a zit on his chin?� Let�s zoom in for a closer look.�� Kat inched in closer and closer until she mashed her boobs against his face and the screen went dark.� Moira and I exploded with laughter, but Chad, I think, had his dignity slightly wounded.� �For Chris�sake Katrina, stop fooling around.� You treat those things like they were toys!�

�Well, why not have some fun with them, when I�ve been without them for thirty-one years?� Kat objected.�

�That�s what I wanted to know� said Moira.� �Dr. Davies, Chad, said you were completely flat-chested in April, and just look at you now!� You�re amazing!� How did that happen?�

�I really don�t know� Kat lied baldly, looking my way briefly.� �I started in April, and maybe my body just started making up for lost time, paying me dividends for all those flat-chested years.�

If that�s true, I got a hell of a payback coming in my thirties� laughed Moira.

�Moira, darling, you�re Dolly Parton compared to what I had.�� Both Chad and I nodded in agreement.� Moira glanced down at her modest dancer�s endowments.� �I�m really sorry to hear that, Katrina.� So, they�ve been growing steadily since April?�

Kat nodded her head in agreement, wrestling her way back into Jan�s bustier with Chad�s help.� �That�s funny� Chad interposed, �but it seems to me that they�ve grown in spurts.� They rest for a while �then boom! There they are!��

I thought I saw something akin to fear pass briefly across Kat�s face.� Moira stood up out of her director�s chair and grabbed my arm.� �Let�s get back to the party� she pleaded.� �I�m starting to get thirsty.�

When we got back to the main dance floor, the band had broken into a swing set.� I danced with Moira for a while.� Then Chad asked to dance with her, so I danced with Kat, and Jan, and with a couple of college girls I knew through Kat.� Then Brad tapped Chad and I to work the bar.� We cleaned up a bit while Jan gave everyone the official grand tour, then two guy model types replaced us, and allowed us to go back to our girlfriends.�

The band was doing some sinuous jazz number, and Kat was dancing with Moira, generating enough heat to raise the temperature ten degrees on the dance floor.� I swallowed hard.� All Kat did was to follow Moira�s lead, but Moira gyrated as if to express every flame of lust felt by every maddened lover from Eve down to the present.

The band, provoked by Moira�s performance, ground out a grittier grove, and Moira responded by turning her own movements up a notch.� Soon Kat and Moira had the dance floor all to themselves, and the band became scorching in their intensity.�

�Mother of God!� I heard at my side.� I turned and saw beads of sweat standing out on Chad Davies� leonine brow.� I looked over at Jan who had a video cam, pushing people out of the way, intent on capturing every second.� The band came to a thundering finale, with Kat and Moira collapsing in each other�s arms, and Moira�s long, boot-covered leg draped over Kat�s shoulder in triumph.

The crowd erupted in applause, and Jan ran up to Moira, who was untangling from Kat, releases in hand.� �Moira, if you ever need to make a little extra money, please, please keep Jankat in mind.

��Do you think you two are the only ones who know how to sex up a respectable art form?� Moira scolded.� �That was from Mats Ek.� I decided a little erotic ballet would warm up your party.�

Visual Inspiration For Moira

The party started breaking up at two.� I retrieved Moira and Kat�s jackets and handed Kat�s to Chad.� Just then Kat froze.� �Chad!� That�s Damarys!� Over there, crossing the street!�� I looked up and saw a deeply curvy brunette settle into the passenger side of a white Jaguar with tinted windows.� I caught just the glimpse of a beautiful and delicate heart-shaped face twisting with contempt as the door shut, the engine fired, and the Jaguar pulled out of its parking space and into the night.

Chad thrust out his jaw, and his grey eyes narrowed.� He grabbed Kat�s arm.� �That was Damarys� he cautioned.� �I have no doubt she was here all night, without our knowing anything.�

�She�s gone now� I observed.

�No�, he continued.� �Damarys is very dangerous.� She was here on my account.��� Now, she knows where Kat works, and she�s seen all of you.� She knows we, well, we�re all together; me and Kat, you and Moira, maybe even Brad and Jan.� � She�, she didn�t take my breaking our engagement very well.�

�I�ll bet that�s the understatement of the year� Moira observed astringently as I fired up the Harley.

V

When I arrived at Kat�s apartment the night of the full moon, I found Kat barefoot, in a loose sweatshirt, and all in a-lather.� She had just gotten off the phone with Jan.

�Jared, do you remember the night of the party seeing Chad�s old fianc�e, Damarys?�� I admitted that, yes, Moira and I had seen her.�

�Jan told me she was out at Jankat today, applying for work.� She talked to Bernice, the HR girl, then Jan decided to talk to her in person.� Jan told me she was really snotty, that they needed a �real woman� as the front girl for their operation.� She asked a lot of questions about me.� Jan called me to tell me to be careful.�

Kat motioned for me to come in to the bedroom, where she had the curtains drawn.� She pulled one of the curtains open just enough to see through, and gestured for me to look.� �Look down there� she whispered.� There, in the alley behind Kate�s apartment, was the white Jaguar I had seen the night of the Jankat party.

�That�s obsessive� I remarked.

Kat bit her lower lip.� �Jared, at first I was sure I was big enough, but I�m going to ask you to please make me grow some more tonight.� I�m scared.� Damarys seems to be a very breast-driven woman.� If I became even bigger, it might provoke her to action.�

�It�s up to you, Kat.� It�s your body, after all� I consoled her.�

She stripped off her sweatshirt.� Her breasts tumbled out from underneath.� �Do you mind doing this in the dark, Jared?� I�d as soon not have her know where we are.��� I found the unguent in Kat�s refrigerator, and brought it out into the bedroom.� Kat was sitting on the edge of her bed, her breasts dangling off her chest like a shelf.� I stuck my hands into the jar of lotion, and cupped Kat�s breasts underneath.� Immediately, her breasts began to drop as they became heavier, and they expanded outward.� I felt them slipping through my grasp as they grew out of my palms.

Kat made a couple of gasping noises.� �Jared, I can feel them growing.� They feel heavier already.� Oh, that feels so good!�� I moved my hands around the periphery of her breasts as they were grew out to the sides.� I could feel her breasts pushing back against my hands as I pressed in with the lotion.

It was a usually arousing feeling.� When I removed my hands to re-lotion them, I was surprised at how much more quickly I bumped into them again when I returned.�

�How big are they now, Jared?� Kat asked me.�

�I can�t see, Kat� I replied.� �It�s way too dark in here.� I hope you don�t take offense if I feel my around here.�� I moved my hands over her breasts, groping in the dark.� They were trembling slightly, as if there was a subtle vibration just underneath her skin.� I followed the curve of her breast until I located her nipple.� From there, I measured off by handbreadths around the curvature of her breast to where it met her body.�

�That�s two, oops, let me mark myself here� I discoursed.� I put a fingertip where my hand stopped, and repositioned my hand again.� �That�s three hand lengths.� That�s four.� Well, look, here�s the rest of your body, Kat.� What am I touching?�

�That feels like the top of my butt.�

�That�s how far down your boobs go.� I don�t know where they would go if you stood up.� Can you stand up?�

�Help me up, Jared.�� Oh, damn!� I can�t extend my arm straight in front of me.� Here�s my hand, over here.� No, Jared, about a foot over from where you�re groping me now.� Hey, that tickles!�

I found her arm and hoisted her to her feet.� Kat cast a silhouette shadow� as she passed in front of the window, eclipsing the street light outside.

�Ouch, shit!� Kat shouted.� I just smashed my boob against my dresser.� That hurt!�

I found the door to the living room and opened it.� Kat must have stumbled, because she fell face-first, actually, breast-first, onto the living room carpet.� �I�m certainly going to have to take more care of my balance� she joked.

I looked over at her.� Kat�s breasts had broken her fall, and her upper body was inclined at about a 30 degree angle as it rested atop them.� �Help me up again� she pleaded.� I got Kat to her feet, and what a sight she was.� Her breasts hung pendulously in front of her past her navel and nearly to her waist.� Yet, they still maintained their projection, and the nipples still glanced outwards and to the side rather than straight down.�

I went back into the bedroom and peeped out through the curtain.� The white Jaguar was gone.� Kat was trying to wrestle back into the sweatshirt, except now there was too much Kat and not enough sweatshirt.� She reached under the shirt, and maneuvered one immense breast into position, then she struggled with the other.� Finally, she was able to get the fabric pulled over the tops and down, although she wasn�t able to get the tail tucked into her jeans.

�The Jag�s gone, Kat.�

�Thank God!� Did you see it go?�

�No, I didn�t� I had to admit.

�Do you mind staying here tonight, Jared?� I�d feel a lot safer.�

So I ended up on Kat�s sofa that night.� Nothing happened, except that I heard Kat knocking things over all night in her bedroom and bathroom.� In the morning, I got a big-breasted breakfast, as Kat prepared our omelets topless.� That is, Kat was topless, not the omelets.

All that next week, I saw Kat everywhere, in the newspaper, on the talk shows on local TV, on the radio.� Everyone wanted a piece of the �62 inch goddess�.� I came home to a clip of Kat waking down by the beach on the evening news.� Kat would be on Johnny Metro at midnight, cracking jokes and astounding people by discussing current issues in theoretical physics.

A 62 inch bust on a 70 woman is one thing.� A 62 inch bust on a woman with an IQ of 158 and a Ph.D. in physics was an entirely different phenomenon.� Big breasts meant big ratings.� Gigantic breasts meant huge ratings, but you ran the risk of being thought cheap and exploitative.� But a huge breasted woman scientist with bona fide scientific accomplishments meant you could focus on her scientific work, but still run plenty of shots of that unreal 62 inch bust.� Now, they could say the were� doing responsible journalism

Jankat boomed as well.� Orders for web design and other work came pouring in, and soon Jan was too busy to take my calls during business hours, although it seemed I always got a courtesy call late in the evening.

One night, Kat called me with the ecstatic news.� �Chad proposed to me, Jared!� My God, he finally did it!�

�What great news, Kat�� I congratulated her.� You must be thrilled.� Is this official?�

�It�ll be official a week from Saturday.� You and Moira must come to our engagement dinner.� We�re going to have it at DiFranco�s at eight-thirty. We have reservations.

Moira.� A slight thawing in Moira�s and my relationship� was in process.� Not that she ever said anything outright, but there seemed to be a little hesitancy on her part to agree to my plans, to return my calls.� I felt like I was slipping on her scale of priorities.� Not severely, but enough to matter.

I saw here a couple of times that week.� We talked on the phone and connected like always.� She even came over Friday and we had sex.� Good sex.� No, make that see-God-and-forget-your-mother�s-maiden-name sex.� So, like most men who are getting enough good sex, I put it out of my mind.

The night of the engagement party, �the six of us were gathered at DiFranco�s and feeling no real pain.� My joy in my friend�s happiness was genuine,� and the only tinge of a dark cloud that managed to penetrate the buzz of the champagne was that Moira seemed to be spending� an awful lot of time talking to Chad about an upcoming concert her troupe was putting on.

Brad wanted a smoke, so Chad and I excused ourselves from the ladies and joined him to keep him company.� When Brad crushed out his cigarette, Chad grabbed me by the arm.�

�Wait a minute, Jared.� Can I talk to you, briefly?�

I asked him what the matter was.

�Its Kat.� It must be obvious to everyone that she�s, uh, developed rather nicely these last few months.� Is it, you know, natural?�

�That�s kind of a personal question, Chad.� Why don�t you ask Kat?�

�You�ve been her best friend, she tells me, since grade school. She�d tell you before she told me.� What am I?� Just a fianc�.�� He chuckled as if he was being very clever.

�Well, she hasn�t had any surgeries, if that�s what you mean.� She wouldn�t have been able to recover as quickly as she has from such multiple surgeries.�

�Let me explain, Jared� he continued.� �My last fianc�e, Damarys, thought she wasn�t �woman� enough to satisfy me.� Its true, I�ve always been somewhat of a breast man, but not to the point where I let my preferences dictate which women I would go out with or which women could satisfy me sexually, if you know what I mean.�

�But Damarys let it become an obsession.� She started purchasing cr�mes, ointments, exotic exercise equipment.� All of this, and she never added a millimeter to her bust line.� One day she drives me across town to this palm reader�s office, and tells me she has some kind of program for enlarging a woman�s breasts.�

�I went along with it to humor Damarys.� There was a lot of weirdness about it, full moons, different herbs, animal organs, that sort of thing.� There was also something the old lady told Damarys about an envelope that I never completely understood, that if I didn�t do something right the magic wouldn�t work.�

�Oddly enough, it did work.� Damarys got bigger.� Every month, we followed the program, and she got bigger and bigger and bigger.� At first, she was delighted and thankful, and I have to say I probably had the best sex of my life during those months.� Soon she found she was bigger than all the other women, and I think it went to her head.� She became cold and demanding.� She treated other women terribly, and did everything she could to put them down.�

�She kept growing every month, but now it was less and less, until finally it stopped altogether.� I thought this would settle Damarys down, but instead, she became obsessed. She was always afraid that some woman somewhere would grow larger than she was, and take me away from her.�

�I think she�s afraid Kat is that woman. Especially with the publicity she�s been getting recently.� Jared, can you swear by your life that Kat has never been to see a Countess Zamora on Freedom Heights Drive?�

I swallowed hard.� Did I lie for Kat�s sake, or tell the truth and risk destroying her happiness?� God help me, but at that moment, I put what I believed to be Kat�s happiness above all other considerations.

�No, Chad� I lied baldly and with total conviction.� �Kat would never do anything like that.� She�s a� scientist.� Let�s go back inside.�

As we wove through the restaurant back to the table, though, I happened to look inside one of the enclosed booths. It was hard to see, but I thought I saw a familiar heart-shaped face framed by a mass of thick brown ringlets.� My blood froze, but I decided not to darken Kat�s big night.

A couple of weeks later, on the night of that month�s full moon, I arrived at Kat�s a little late; shortly after eight.� I was surprised to find Kat not at home, although the door was unlocked,� and all the lights were blazing in her living room and� kitchen.� "Kat!� Kat!" I called, walking through her apartment.� How strange, I thought to myself.� In all the years I had known Kat, she had never once made a date with me and stood me up, nor asked me to be somewhere and wasn't there herself.� When I walked into Kat's bedroom, though,� I understood everything.�

Damarys had Kat tied to a chair, and had a police issue .38 pointed straight at her forehead.� She had her shirt open, and Dr. Chad Davies was massaging her with our lotion.� Turning her revolver on me, she got her sight picture, and I froze.

"Why is this loser here tonight, bitch-whore?" she demanded of Kat.

"I've been trying to t-tell y-you" Kat sputtered.�� "Chad hasn't b-been m-my partner.� Chad was never my partner.� J-jared is!"

Damarys stared at Chad with total contempt and rejection.� "You worm!" she hissed.� "You needle-dicked excuse for a man!� I should have known you haven't got it in you anymore.� You've been working on me since sundown, and I haven't grown an inch.� Get away from me!� Your touch disgusts me!"� She pushed Chad from her, and then turned the weapon back on Kat.� "Don't you go anywhere, or I shoot your whore.� I want you to see what a real man can do for a lady."�

She smiled at me, and spoke in the most dulcet tones.

"I want you to try your hand now, honey" she said.� "I see what you've done for this dried up egghead bitch, and I'm impressed.� You've turned her into a woman.� You've must have some manhood left in you..� Now, you can do something for me, for a real woman.� The rewards will be substantial."� She smiled wickedly, and moved her red little tongue across her lips.

"D-do as sh-she says" Kat pleaded.� I dropped to my knees before Damarys, scooped up some of the unguent, and began rubbing.� "Very good, slave" she cackled. I see the egghead bitch has trained you well.� You know how to worship a woman, don't you?"�

Massaging Damarys was about as exciting as massaging a brick, and it had as much effect. I rubbed her, kneaded her, and stroked her big spherical breasts for fifteen minutes, with no result.� Damarys was furious.� "What!� You too!� What do I have to do to find a real man in the town?� She kicked me in the face and sent me flying.� "Fags!� You're all fags!� Girly-men!� Limp dicks!"

"Let him try on me!" Kat supplicated.

Damarys sniggered.� "OK, I'll let Donna here try his hand on you."� She motioned to me with her revolver.� "Go ahead, no-dick.� Lather down your bitch.� This should be fun to watch."

I opened Kat's shirt, slipped her shoulder straps down her arms.� With both hands, I wrenched one of Kat's immense breasts free from her cups and it tumbled into her lap.��� Then I wrestled the other one free.� Grabbing a handful of the salve in each hand, I started rubbing it into Kat's waiting breasts.

Immediately, Kat began to grow.� Damarys watched in horror as Kat's breasts swelled outward and downward, into her lap.� Smiling, I dipped my hands into the lotion once again, and went back to work.� I could feel Kat growing under my hands.� It was as though I was pulling her out with my own hands.� I tugged at her breasts, and to my amazement, they followed me, not bouncing back after I pulled them, but settling into place, bigger and fuller than before!

Dipping into the lotion once again, I encircled Kat's left breast with both hands, and began pulling it gently outward.� "That's it.� Come on!� That's my big girl!" As I pulled gently, Kat's breast became larger and larger.� I kept massaging, kneading the flesh ever outward.� Then I repeated the same performance with Kat's other breast.� "Grow for Daddy, baby.� Show us how big you can get."�� Kat's breasts were resting in her lap, hiding her knees.

"That's enough!� That's enough!� Damarys shrieked. "I can see you've got your touch back."� She waved the pistol at me.� "Now, back to work on me!"�� I reluctantly dipped my hands back into the lotion and dutifully recommenced my efforts on Damarys once again.� Kat was still growing. Her breasts spilled off her lap and hung nearly to the grown, trembling and still getting larger.� "Make me grow!" Damarys commanded.� "Make me that big!'

"You�ll never get this big, Damarys."� Kat spoke with a quiet authority while her boobs began brushing against the floor. �"You'll never get an inch larger.� Do you know why?� It's not because Chad isn't man enough or because Jared isn't man enough."

Damarys' face flushed and her mouth opened.� "You think it's the size of your breasts that make you a woman.� It's not. It's the size of your heart.� And honey, that cramped, narrow little heart of yours doesn't have enough room for anyone.� Just Damarys, Damarys and more Damarys.� That makes you the smallest woman I know."

"No!"� Damarys screamed and fired a round at Kat.� It went screaming past her ear into the wall.� Chad made a lunge at Damarys, who fired at him.� The bullet grazed his shoulder, and he started bleeding.� Then I heard two clicks at the door. I turned and saw Moira and Jan, guns in hand trained directly on Damarys.

"Bitch!"� Moira hissed.� "Did you think you were the only cunt in town that had a piece?"�

"Moira!� Thank God!"� Chad shouted.� He stood up and stood by her side. "Get something on that scratch, lover", she said, and he put one of Kat's white washcloths on it.� Lover?� I thought to myself.� How long has this been going on?� Kat also looked imploringly at Moira, but there was Damarys to attend to first.

"Give me your piece, cunt" Jan commanded.� Damarys thought for a moment, then tossed her weapon in Jan's direction, stood up and ran screaming out the door, and out of the house.

Moira called me� next day. She and Chad had fallen in love despite themselves, despite me, despite Kat, despite their engagement.� I didn't need the explanation, but I appreciated that she had the metaphorical balls to tell me herself.� Kat was fine, Moira said, but from the way she said it, I knew Kat was as devastated by Chad's betrayal as I was about Moira's.

Damarys was in custody.� Chad was resting at home.� Jan caught a whiff that something was up when Kat missed a five o clock shoot, and Moira had a clandestine date with Chad at eight.� When Chad didn't show,� Moira called Jankat asking for Chad.� Since they both knew that Kat and I had some sort of arrangement for that night, they put two and two together and came over to Kat's apartment.

"Why did you come armed?" I asked.

Moira laughed on the telephone.� "Jared, you newt.� I'm always packing.� I had that Glock 9mm in my purse during our whole relationship."

I should have guessed.

"Anyway.� I'm sorry it had to come to this.� You're a great guy.� You'll recover.� Things like this happen to grown-ups."� Then she hung up, and I felt as though she had drop-kicked my heart from the thirty-five yard line and made a perfect field goal.

VI

I didn't leave my apartment for a week after that.� Disconnecting the phone, I drew the blinds, living on pizza, water, and yoghurt.� That Saturday, about an hour before sundown, I heard someone laboriously climbing the staircase outside to the front door of my apartment.� Then I heard the doorbell ring.� Snapping on the exterior light and looking through the peephole, I couldn't see anyone.� I was about to return to my couch when the doorbell rang again.�

I went to the bedroom to throw on a t-shirt.� "OK, OK, I'm coming!"� I opened the door, and, as I thought, there was Kat standing in the doorway.� She was very simply dressed.� She had to be.� Her breasts, which had to compose sixty to seventy percent of her body weight, were barely covered by an alpaca poncho she had dug up from God knows where.� She had taken pains to fix her hair, which cascaded in long, thick tresses down the sides of the poncho, past the shelf of her breasts, nearly to her ankles, and make up her face. She was still beautiful. She was still Kat.

Her breasts blocked the doorway.� I could tell by the way the poncho rode on her that they hung halfway to her knees, yet they curved forward and out to the sides far enough to fill my doorway and block my escape.

"How on earth did you reach the doorbell, Kat?"� I asked her.� She was standing more than arm's length from the door, yet still she blocked it as effectively as if she had nailed it shut.�� She held up a walking stick.� "One makes adjustments" she said.� I'm coming in, because you sure as hell aren't getting out over the tops of these!"��

There was no way she force her way directly in, nor could she turn sideways and wiggle in that way.� What she did was to turn at a 45 degree angle, thrusting one immense breast through the doorway first, then turning, she pulled the other one through.� She pivoted and faced me, knocking a floor lamp over in the process.

She bit her lower lip and smiled, somewhat sheepishly. "I'm sorry, Jared.� she apologized. "Do you remember what I told you a couple of months ago about your brain's image of your body taking time to catch up with your actual body?"

Cutting to the chase I asked her.� "Kat, why are you here?"

"I'm here to have sex with you, Jared.� You know that's why I'm here."� She stared straight at me with her electric blue eyes, as innocent of all guile as a two-year-old.

I collapsed on the couch, and indicated for her to take the chair. She lowered herself carefully to the floor, carefully arranging the poncho as she sat so that she remained covered.� "I don't do chairs much anymore, Jared.� They're kind of hard for me to get out of."

"I don't need this, Kat.� I don't need this right now?"

She lifted the edge of� her poncho just enough to show me the bottom arc of what had to be a dinner-plate sized areola. "Don't you want to have sex with me, Jared?� Am I a freak?� First, I was a flat-chested freak.� Now, I'm the opposite.� Is that it?"

Kat, please..." I pleaded.� "I never once thought..."

"Did you have sex with Rosalyn, Jared?" Kat probed.� The light outside turned to pale gold.� I opened the blinds to let in what remained of the day.�

"Yes.� I had sex with Rosalyn"� I admitted.

"Did you love Rosalyn, Jared?"

I answered quickly.� "No.� I don't believe I ever loved Rosalyn."

"But you had sex with her." Kat lifted her poncho a little farther, and folded that part atop her breasts. Her entire areole and nipple area were now exposed.�

Hanging my head, I confessed that I had sex with her, frequently and vigorously, although in my heart of hearts I knew that I never loved her.

"What about Moira, Jared?" she cruelly continued.� "Did you have sex with Moira?"

I winced as though she had raked my arm with a cheese grater and rubbed vinegar into it.� This was too recent.� I remembered the leggy athletic ballerina, her urgent kisses, our frantic, overheated couplings, and something went kind of loose in my stomach.� It was hard knowing that she was sharing that now with Dr. Chad Davies of Sacred Heart University.�� "Yes, Kat, we had sex.� Not often, but when we did, it was... very good."

"Did you love Moira?"

Five minutes stretched to ten, then ten to fifteen, as I searched my heart.� Fifteen turned to twenty and to twenty-five and still I hadn't answered.� The light outside reddened, and one final beam of red-gold light fell through the window onto Kat's now fully unwrapped breast.� I noticed that it was something like having the full moon right on the living room floor of your apartment.

"No, Kat" I finally admitted.� "I have to say that, as much as I probably wanted to, I never loved Moira."

Kat shifted her ass and pulled something out her back pocket.� The effort made the undersides of her vast breasts scritch-scritch against the carpet.� It was Countess Zamora's envelope.� "I don't want to be any bigger, Jared.� If I were any bigger, I'd need someone to carry these things in front of me on a little cart..� But I did want to find out why I grew last week and Damarys remained the same size.� I've been doing some moping of my own this past week.� Remember, you lost a hot little firecracker of a girlfriend, but I lost a fianc�, the one I thought I had been waiting for my whole life.� To top it off, now I have breasts the size of trash bags.� So, I felt I was entitled to know.

"Jan drove me over, just like she drove me over here.� My driving days are over.� I can barely get into Jan's car with the seat pulled back all the way.� But I managed to waddle into Countess Zamora's shop.� She took one look at me, went to the safe, and pulled out the envelope. I have it here, unopened.� I want you to open it and read it.

"You didn't open it?" I asked incredulously.

"I don't need to open it to know what it says, Jared.� I want you to be the first one to read it, so that you will know as well.� So that there will be no doubt whatsoever as to the truth."

The cover of the envelope read 'Dr. Katrina Van Dyke� -� April 22' . The Countess had affixed a red wax seal to the reverse, where she had sealed the envelope.� This was the real thing.� Nervously, I broke the seal, opened the envelope, and pulled out the brown paper.� Its hard to read, Kat.� The light is bad, and the letters are kind of old-fashioned.� I pulled the blinds down and turned on the table lamp at the side of the sofa.

THAT THE LADY GROW HER WOMANLY PARTS, THIS LOTION MUST BE AFFYXED TO HER BY A MAN ON THE NIGHT OF THE FULL MOON.

FOR THE SPELL TO WORK, THERE ARE TWO CONDITIONS THAT THE MAN MUST NEEDS MEET.

ALSO, THERE IS ONE CONTINGENCIE THAT WILL OCCUR WHILE THE SPELL IS UNDERWAY.

THE FIRST CONDITION THAT MUST BE MET BY THE MAN FOR THE SPELL TO WORK:

THE LADY MUST LOVE HIM WITH HER ENTIRE HEART.

THE SECOND CONDITION THAT MUST BE MET BY THE MAN:

HE MUST LOVE THE LADY WITH HIS ENTIRE HEART

THE CONTIGENCIE THAT WILL OCCUR WHILE THE SPELL IS UNDERWAY IS IN THIS MANNER

THAT GROWTHE TO WHICH THE LADY ATTAINETH PERTAINETH TO THE STRENGTHE OF THE LOVE THAT HE HATH FOR HER

I looked up in shock.� Katrina was weeping profusely.� "I am so sorry, Jared.� I am so sorry" she sobbed. I know now that I have loved you my entire life, but I have been afraid to admit it.� Afraid because I was I was afraid I couldn't love you against the current of people's expectations.� That I couldn't love you like I thought I could, I should, love someone like Chad.� But I know now that I was deeply and terribly wrong."

Then she looked up at me.� "And there has never been a time in your life that you haven't loved me, Jared.� Every single minute of every single day since the day we met until now you have loved me, and only me That�s the truth, and you know it."

Kat staggered to her feet and threw off the poncho.� "Here is the proof, Jared.� This is the proof of your love for me.� No other man could have made me even half this size.� Look!� Believe your eyes if you can't believe your heart!"

She turned her back to me, thrust her arms into the vast chasm between her breasts, and began to separate them.� Then she slowly wrapped each voluminous breast around the trunk of her body until the nipples were pointing straight back at me.� Splaying her arms downwards, she pressed the tips of her breasts together behind her back until they touched.�

She removed her arms, and her breasts snapped back to the front where they dangled just above her knees in all their immense splendor.� Then I saw it all.� From the first day that a lanky seventh grade boy met a gawky seventh grade girl who loved math and telescopes.� I rose from the chair, turned out the light, and walked towards Katrina, undoing my belt as I came.�

What a total, blind asshole I had been. I would have married Moira.� I would have let Kat marry Chad.� Four people would have been thoroughly miserable because I was too insecure, too scared, not man enough, to act on what I knew in my heart and in my head to be true.

It was dark now, and I groped about, feeling Kat's huge breasts on either side of me.� I forced my way between them.� They yielded, and so did Kat, who dropped to her knees as I reached under both breasts and grabbed her by the waist.� Slowly, I lowered her to the floor, and I felt the soft weight of her breasts surround me, close warmly over me like the embrace of a truth too long denied.�

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