A new Procedure

This is a new request. As you may have seen, The List is up again. I'm going to work through it as quickly as I can. Hopefully, there will be more requests coming soon. Please feel free to ask for stories here, email me, message me, whatever.

I can honestly say that today's story is not my fetish. I am not a breast man. I have nothing against them, of course, but they aren't my thing. Hopefully, though, this story will still do it's job.

New Procedure

I didn't believe it was possible when he described it to me. I mean, the idea was certainly sexy, but I didn't think it would work. I didn't think it could. My skin would rip. My back would give out. The physics of it just wasn't possible. It didn't work.

But he insisted it would. We had to go slow, he told me. Very slow. He made the pace part of the fun. An hour per cup size, at least. An hour where he would tease me, where he would torture me with exquisite pleasure. When he told me it was possible, that it wouldn't tear my skin, I cleared my schedule.

There's still the worry about the back pain. My breasts are already large enough to make my back hurt some days. But he insisted he had that covered. He insisted that there was a solution that would work well.

So I came to the clinic, right at the address he had given me. He was waiting outside, holding a package of some kind in one hand and a holder with cups of coffee in the other.

“Morning,” he said, smiling at me. He offered me one of the cups of coffee. I took it gratefully and found that it was perfectly made. One cream, two sugars. Just how I like it.

“I used the last of the cream,” he told me. “So I'll be relying on you to provide more.”

That made me laugh. Then I asked him what was in the package.

“It's the solution to the back problems,” he said. “It looks like a corset, but it has a back brace integrated into it. It'll keep you back straight for you, and will support the extra weight in the front.”

I told him I wouldn't be able to breathe properly with a corset on.

“Oh, I wouldn't worry about that,” he said. “I intend to keep you short of breath and light headed anyway. Come on, let's go inside.”

He held the door for me. Such a gentleman.

Inside, doctors were already setting up the machine. At least, I assume they were doctors. They wore lab coats and looked smart. They were very kind, smiling pleasantly, but seemed somewhat preoccupied setting things up. We stood off to the side and drank our coffee. I asked him how long the new breasts would last.

“There are two options,” he told me. “They can do it with saline, which will just last for a few days. Your body will absorb the extra, and your skin will go back to normal. No long term effects at all.”

That was one option. Not bad. But what was the other option?

“The other option is to use this new chemical solution they've been working on. At first it will seem just like the saline solution. But the compound tells your body to reproduce the cells in your breasts, so they will eventually take over the solution. They'll be real, as permanent as your breasts are now. And just as functional.”

So they wouldn't look fake. That's a good thing. I mean, they'll look a little bit fake; no one has breasts that big. It just doesn't occur in nature. I'd still look inhuman. But they'd be real. There'd be no scars or surgery, no risk of infection.

“Do you want to try the saline first, see if you like it?”

That would've been the smart thing to do. See if I can handle having a quarter of my body weight in my breasts. Try it first, just to see if it's something I can live with. I should really do it that way first.

But the prospect of them being real, of going through this procedure once and suddenly having ZZZ breasts, was almost too much to pass up.

Then again, if I went with the saline, wouldn't I end up with sagging skin afterwards? I mean, I already have size G breasts, but there's a big difference between G and ZZZ. And once they're big, won't that stretch out my skin?

“It will,” he told me. “But it will be temporary. Your skin will tighten up. According to the doctors, it should be back to normal after a week, maybe two.”

So two weeks of saggy sacks of skin around my breasts. I can live with that, can't I?

But if I got the permanent form, I wouldn't have to. They'd just always be that big. I could work on my back muscles until I didn't need to wear the corset all the time.

“I'd want you to wear a corset all the time,” he says. “Just the underbust, but always. I'd lock it onto you. You'd be mine.”

I'd been wanting to hear those words for so long. I wanted so badly to belong to him.

Maybe I should just go ahead and get the permanent increase. We could spend the time talking about what it would mean to belong to him. And I'd have the corset on all the time. The one with the built in back brace. It would help support the huge udder like breasts I'd have. And I'd belong to him. Forever.

“Do you want that?” he asked.

Of course that's what I wanted. But wouldn't he get tired of me, eventually? It would be almost impossible to go out in public with breasts that big. People would stare.

“They would absolutely stare,” he said. “They would stare at your huge breasts, and at the way you stand up straight, and at the collar around your neck. They'd stare at you, and they'd know you belonged to me. We'd have to buy you new clothes. But that's okay. You're worth it.”

That made me blush. And it made the decision for me.

Soon, I was connected to the machine. Tiny needles slid into each of my nipples. It was a tiny pinch, and then I felt the liquid start to spread inside me. It wasn't cold, but it was a bit cooler than the rest of my body. Especially once it started. As I felt my breasts firm up, the liquid defeating the work of gravity, even just temporarily, my whole body started to heat up. I gasped in pleasure, and saw him smile at me.

They went slowly. It wasn't painful, but I felt the skin start to stretch a little. No sooner had I felt it than he was there with lotion, rubbing my breasts gently, his fingers tracing over my skin.

“This will help with the skin,” he told me. “It will help it retain its elasticity without causing stretch marks.”

I didn't entirely believe that there wouldn't be stretch marks. How would that be possible?

“There will be little ones,” he told me. “There's no helping that. But there's a cream we can rub onto your skin for the next few days that will make them go away. They'll fade to nothing, and soon your skin will be just as perfect as it is now.” He continued rubbing my breasts long after the lotion had soaked in.

The bag at the other end of the needles soon emptied, and was replaced with a fresh one. I looked down, and saw that my breasts were already bigger, visibly so. He smiled at me again, then reached forward and rubbed my areolas with his finger nails, making me bite my lips to stop from crying out in pleasure. That made him giggle.

It seemed like the second bag emptied faster than the first one. My back was starting to hurt. He saw that, and began putting the corset on me. He wrapped it around me, taking a moment to kiss the back of my ear and then run his tongue down the side of my neck. I gasped in pleasure, and then felt him pulling the corset tight around me. He reached around me to connect the clasps down the front. Then he reached his hand up to show me the little padlocks that would go on each of the clasps.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

I pointed out what I was doing, and that seemed to satisfy him. Soon, there were the snick sound of padlocks locking the corset onto me.

There was one more lock for the laces, which he inserted once they were nice and tight.

Once it was all locked on, the pressure from my breasts lessened. The pain eased, even if I couldn't breathe quite as well.

“I can't wait until this is done,” he says, whispering into my ear. “When you start to lactate. I wonder if you'll be more sensitive. I know you'll have more space for clothespins. I can't wait to use them on you. We could probably fit thirty or forty on each one. Would you like that?”

He didn't really have to ask.

“Just a few more hours,” he said. “Then we can get to work playing with them. We can break them in. Together.

“And then, we'll get you that collar.”