Therapy

A. L. Spragg

The first spots of rain began to fall as Judith stepped out of her car. Her narrow, drawn face barely moved as she felt the sharp, cold drops. She leaned back inside the car to extract her black leather briefcase from the passenger seat, then closed the door and slowly crossed the short distance to her tidy townhouse. Her heels clacked on the hard concrete surface, but without her usual swift rhythm. She lifted her arm to her face as her fingers closed around the car keys. The sound of her walking was muted by the tweet of her car alarm, and the brilliant flash of the headlights revealed the face of her watch - and the lateness of the hour. She closed the door in the face of the first gust of wind.

Inside, Judith leaned back against the wooden panels of the door and let out a loud sigh. Her body matched her face: long and thin. Her head came almost to the top of the door. She wore a professional-looking black trouser suit, the jacket of which she now removed and hung carefully over a hook by the door. She blinked her eyes a few times, slowly, a natural reaction after hours of poring over columns of dense figures. But that was one of the prices she paid for going out into private practice. And although it left her tired and listless, she perhaps did not appreciate its benefits as a buffer for the irrationality see saw all day. Her line of work was an unending battle to impose order, while the accounts were the epitome of organization. Altogether, she found herself at the end of the day totally spent.

Judith picked the briefcase up where she had put it on the ground, and set it on a table in the hallway ahead of her. She undid the clasp, and looked inside. With a look of uninterested recognition, she reached her spindly fingers inside and pulled out the one item that needed to be dealt with: a small plastic bottle she had confiscated from one of her clients that day. She held the cloudy plastic bottle up to her eyes, but it revealed no more to her now than it had that morning in her office. She set the bottle down, closed the clasp on the briefcase, lay it flat and centred on the table, then picked the bottle up again and headed for the bathroom.

As Judith walked down the hallway the wind whistled through unseen cracks, and the rain could be heard, pelting on the roof, competing with the echo of the soft sound her shoes made on the carpet. Passing through the living room, she flicked on the light, and paused only to straighten a pile of magazines sitting on the sideboard. She crossed the room and continued down a further short passage to the bathroom.

Judith was dazed momentarily as the light flicked on and reflected off the intense whiteness of the tiled bathroom, but she soon recovered herself and clacked her way over to the sink. She reached out, and was just about to unscrew the cap of the bottle to dispose of its contents, when she was startled by a muffled banging sound. Someone knocking on the door, down the other end of the house. More than just knocking, really pounding. With a weary sigh, Judith put the bottle down by the sink and, rousing some energy from a hidden reserve, headed back to the front door.

Judith did not alter her even, measured step as she made her way to the door. As she entered the front hallway she called in an irritated, clipped voice, "I'm coming! I'm coming!". She was surprised by the strong chill wind that greeted her as she threw open the door. She was surprised that the figure before her was completely drenched, even though she could see the driving rain now, splashing on the ground in the lamplight. But she wasn't surprised at the identity of her visitor, once she recognised her. It was just another hazard of her profession. She adopted an even sterner expression than normal and peered out into the darkness.

"Eleanor! How did you find my address?"

The dripping figure failed to respond.

"Eleanor!" repeated Judith, shrilly.

Still the figure remained silent.

Judith was fast losing patience. Then suddenly Eleanor spoke. "I'm s...s...s...sorry. I needed to see someone, and you're the only one I could think of!" she choked out. Now Judith realised that Eleanor's face was drenched with tears as well as rainwater, and that this was why she paused. Her expression did not change, though.

"Eleanor, you cannot be here. You are my patient."

Eleanor just stood there, sobbing. Judith was about to speak again when there was a flash of lightening, soon followed by a crack of thunder. Judith gazed out into the hazy atmosphere, and clenched her teeth. This was one of those situations that the textbook writers never thought of. Eleanor couldn't be here, but she couldn't be out there in the storm either. Judith hesitated only a moment, before standing aside in the doorway. Her expression of disapprobation didn't change as she told Eleanor she had better come in.

Eleanor's head perked up, and an expression of relief spread across her face. Her teary eyes peered at her saviour, then she shambled over the threshold. Judith's eyes fell on the water streaming off her unwanted visitor onto the carpet. But there was an even more unwelcome surprise in store. Eleanor suddenly lurched towards her and embraced her in her arms.

"Oh, thank you, Doc."

Eleanor was too shocked by the wet and cold of her visitor to disapprove of the nickname. Her eyes flared wide, and she stood motionless as Eleanor pulled away. Seeing the look of horror on her therapist's face, Eleanor's smile faded and dropped entirely. Her nose screwed up, and tears began dribbling down her already sodden cheeks.

But Judith's shock had been mostly physical, and she quickly recovered her former composure.

"Eleanor! No more tears! Now," she said, her gaze ranging up and down the rain-soaked figure, "you'd better get something dry on. You can have a shower here and I'll find something for you to wear. Then I'll call a cab to take you home."

Judith's voice carried authority, and Eleanor's tears dried up. But the look of misery remained. Suppressing a sigh, Judith told her charge to follow her, and turned in the direction of the bathroom. They padded through the house, Eleanor leaving little damp footprints as she went. Judith impatiently waved Eleanor into to the brilliant white bathroom, saying, "You should find everything you need. There's a robe behind the door."

She saw her dripping patient inside, and closed the door behind her, then strode off to the master bedroom to change her clothes, which still felt damp from Eleanor's embrace, and to hunt out something suitable for her uninvited guest to wear.

Eleanor, meanwhile, slowly turned around inside the bathroom, taking in every part of her unfamiliar surroundings. As her eyes fell upon the shower cubicle, she stepped forward, out of her trance, and flicked the water on. A strong, hot stream of water burst forth immediately from the shower head, and steam billowed out towards her, warming her face. She suddenly realised how cold and uncomfortable she was, and she began peeling her clothes off, letting them fall haphazardly to the floor about her.

By the time she stripped bare, the steam from the shower had condensed all over the mirror that covered most of one of the walls, above the basin. Eleanor was glad, for she did not much like her own body, though as is so often the case, hers was an opinion not shared by most of the people she met. She wasn't tall, but she was curvy, very feminine. But Eleanor didn't see it that way.

She picked up one of the big fluffy towels that sat beside the basin, and then her eye was caught by a plastic bottle sitting beside it. She unscrewed the top and took a sniff - a heady jasmine scent tickled her nostrils. She concluded it was some kind of body wash, and headed to the shower, bottle in hand.

Judith, now clad in fitting jeans that highlighted her spare frame, and a plain white tee shirt, entered the living room with a pair of sweat-pants and top that she thought would fit her patient, which she stacked carefully on the sideboard. She decided that she needed some tea. She moved into the adjoining kitchen area and started the water heating, as she careful extracted a single black currant tea bag from a box sitting neatly on the counter. She pulled a mug from the shelf beside her, dropped the tea bag in, and stood, staring blankly, waiting for the water to boil.

Eleanor put down the bottle and began rinsing herself off. The highly scented suds dissolved and flowed off her body, leaving just a trace of their perfume behind. She twirled beneath the torrent of water, letting it ripple over her body, warming her and caressing her.

Then suddenly she stood bolt upright, and her eyes shot open. She had felt a very peculiar sensation, almost like her stomach heading to her mouth on a rollercoaster, or at the bottom of a steep hill, except it wasn't her stomach, it was her chest. She looked down, just as she felt it again. And this time she could see that her breasts quivered. She turned away from the stream of water, and rubbed her eyes to clear them. As she opened them she felt it once again, and this time there was no denying it, it wasn't the water, or a trick of the light, her breasts wobbled a little, and when they settled down they seemed...bigger.

Eleanor was confused. Then she was hit by a wave of the awful feeling, not just a spike like before, and her breasts surged forward. The sensation was almost unbearable, she wanted to scream but she seemed somehow muted. She writhed, and leaned back against the side of the shower cubicle, as her breasts swiftly expanded before her eyes. As her convulsions made her eyes shoot around, she caught glimpses of her development as if in a time-lapse movie. They expanded smoothly, but rapidly, from what had been about the size of her fist apiece. Bigger, heavier, they grew. Large, but still very pert, slightly teardrop-shaped. As they grew and spread down the wall of her chest, her nipples grew in proportion, along with her areolae which spread out like pools of ink on the pale surface of her breasts.

The feeling went again, as quickly as it had come. Eleanor struggled to catch her breath, panting hard. She looked down, urgently, unbelievingly at her breasts, each now about the volume of a volleyball. The water on them had beaded, little patches of wet skin made islands in the expanse of new skin, still dry. She watched as the water from the shower flowed over her shoulder and wiped out these droplets, and then she opened her mouth wide at the unexpected sensations - not awful this time, but delightful, erotic. She could feel the droplets of water from the shower hit her enormous bosom like a thousand tiny spears, each one sending a jolt to her nervous system. She turned around, clumsily, and shut the water off. For a few moments she just stood, hunched over, in the cubicle, her hands on her thighs, panting. Then her eye caught sight of the bottle again, sitting on the floor of the cubicle, and her mind made the connection. A smile slowly spread over her face, growing broad across her face. She stood up straight, and got out of the shower.

Judith was timing the infusion of her tea with her watch, keeping a careful eye on it, spoon at the ready in her hand, when she was interrupted by a voice from behind her, in the living room.

"Thank you so much, thank you for everything, this is the greatest gift I've ever received!", said the voice. It was a sultry voice, a gentle voice that hinted at potential power left untapped. Judith swivelled on her feet, her heart pounding.

"Eleanor! Oh, I didn't recognize your voice. I...", she trailed off, for she had just noticed Eleanor's change. Eleanor was wearing Judith's silk robe, which reached to about mid-thigh. But it wasn't the apricot robe that caused Judith's jaw to gradually drop, but what the lay beneath it - or rather didn't. Tied at the waist, the robe was stretched tight across the expanse of her chest. But there just wasn't enough, and so there was a deep V-shaped gap that started at her belly button and widened out over the soft, luxurious curve of her bosom to expose inches of deep cleavage, as well as several square inches of perfect white skin either side. Just either side Eleanor's nipples, thick as fingers, poked boldly through the fabric.

Eleanor took a few paces forward, her chest bouncing slightly with her gait, but stopped as Judith recovered herself.

"My God, Eleanor, what did you do to yourself?" she exclaimed.

Eleanor didn't miss a beat. "What did I do? It's what you did, your magical lotion has given me these amazing gifts. How can I thank you?". As she finished the sentence, her hands cupped her endowments, and she sighed with the pleasure even this simple touch elicited.

Judith seemed bemused. "Lotion, what...", and then she remembered the bottle, and the ravings of her patient about it's abilities only that morning in her office. She thought he was psychotic, but now she was wondering whether she wasn't the one losing touch with reality.

Before she got any further, though, Eleanor began shaking and convulsing again as the intense sensation, and the growth, returned. Eleanor staggered towards the sofa, but was in no state to control her muscles. Alarmed, Judith rushed forward just in time to catch Eleanor as she fell, and hold her in her arms. With a great effort she pulled the quivering woman upright and managed to guide her the remaining steps towards the sofa, where they both collapsed.

Now that Eleanor was safe, Judith had time to observe the effects of the bottle's magical contents first hand, as Eleanor's already giant breasts distorted then tore through the fabric of the robe in their eagerness to expand. Amazed, Judith watched for a few seconds, then slowly put her hand out and placed a palm on Eleanor's right breast. She could feel it pushing out against her, blowing up like a huge fleshy balloon. Freed from the robe, Eleanor's breasts maintained their shape, but kept growing, expanding from her chest in every direction, flowing down her chest, out to the side, and rising away from her. A strange, faraway look came over Judith's face as she watched and felt the progress.

Peace came again. Eleanor came to herself, this time with an electric feeling in her bosom, which she quickly identified with Judith's hand, still lying flat on the gentle curve of her right breast. Each breast was - well, words are hardly adequate. They flowed downwards to her waist, poked several inches out either side and close to a foot in front. From this angle, she couldn't really see her nipples, but they were enormous, three quarters of an inch across, rising from areolae the size of side-plates. The stimulation from Judith's hand made her gulp, but as she left off surveying her own new expanse, she looked into Judith's face, which was blank and distant, except for a few tears slipping down her cheek.

"Why are you crying?" Eleanor enquired firmly in her new, sultry voice.

Judith's jaws worked for a few moments, without any sounds emerging. The tears began to stream down her face. Eleanor flinched as Judith's hand slid over the surface of her breast, squeezing slightly as it went.

"So soft..." said Judith.

"So warm...".

"So forgiving." she barely murmured as her hand dragged across Eleanor's chest, the ample flesh springing back in its wake.

Eleanor's eyelids fluttered, as she gently put her arm around Judith's shoulders.

Judith fell forward, with a slight cry, and buried her head into Eleanor's cavernous cleavage, spreading her tears across Eleanor's supernatural bosom. She cried, and cried, her tears forming tiny rivulets that dripped down Eleanor's cleavage and collected on her soft belly.

Eleanor wriggled, patted Judith's head, filled with new confidence, new insight. She smiled as years of suppresses emotion escaped from the other woman.

And she smiled.

"Don't worry," she said, "there's plenty left in the bottle."