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Message-ID: <36298asstr$1019985002@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: vickietern@aol.com (VickieTern)
Subject: {ASSM} New TG Breasts by Vickie Tern 7/10 femdom F/m etc
Date: Sun, 28 Apr 2002 05:10:02 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

New TG Breasts by Vickie Tern 7/10 Femdom F/m f/f M/m




                           vii.

With my eyes closed, the world beginning to sway when I opened
them, I told her.

"I first went to my office to pick up a few things, and my
secretary Darla was surprised to see me.  Amazed, really!  Even
though I called to tell her I'd drop by today.  'I had no idea,
Barry!' was what she said.  She said all the girls had been
wondering what was wrong after you called to say I'd be taking a
month's sick leave, that I needed that much time to start my new
life.  'What new life? was what we wondered,' she said.  'But this
explains it!  You look great!  As good as any of us I think.'  And
then she said 'I love your hair!'"  

Hayley snapped on a table lamp and looked at me.  But said nothing.

"Hayley, she could tell at a glance that I've been trying to look
like a girl.  She thinks I'm becoming a girl!  How could she tell?"
 
I could see that Hayley felt both sympathy and exasperation.  "I
tried to tell you, honey, but you were in too much of a hurry. 
When you left the house this morning you were still wearing Berry's
bouffant hair!  You never did shampoo out yesterday's set.  You
never even brushed it down.  So when you combed it out this
morning without looking, you re-set it.  That's how setting gels
work.  I don't suppose you glanced at a mirror before you left the
house."

"No," I said, embarrassment now added to the uneasiness in my
stomach.    

"No," Hayley repeated.  "Well, now you know why women check out
mirrors all the time.  It isn't narcissism, it's that the way we
need to look all the time, lots of things can go wrong!  Men don't
bother, they dress for the day and then they think they stay that
way, and if they don't, they don't care.  If you'd looked in the
mirror when you left the house, as every woman always does, you'd
have seen that your hair was framing your face beautifully.  You
might also have noticed that those delicate post earrings you
picked out are still looking lovely in your pierced ears.  You
forgot about them?  Did Darla compliment you on them?  Did she also
mention your pretty new nails?"

I'd been so eager to get out and be myself I'd forgotten to undo
everything!  On my 'boy day,' what Darla saw was a man halfway
toward womanhood. 

"That explains it," I said, depressed.  "She chatted while I looked
at the mail, and I didn't understand her.  She mentioned that she
wears posts sometimes too, and she told me she has a whole
collection of drops and hoops and costume pieces she wants to show
me -- I guess what she meant was earrings.  And she did notice my
fingernails.  She told me she thought pink was too timid for me. 
With my personality I could be bolder, more strikingly dramatic,
she said, flame red, or dark ruby.  That part was embarrassing!"

"It bothered you that you're doing things women do?  I thought
you've learned to be proud you can do them!"

"No, I'm proud I can make people think I'm a woman so nobody will
suspect I'm really a man.  You showed me how.  I'm not proud to
look like an effeminate man!"

"Why not?  That's what you are!  Look at you!  You have a hairdo. 
Your nails are done.  You have breasts!   Your eyes look a little
smoky to me -- did you think you'd wash off your mascara when you
washed your face last night?   Honey, it's waterproof, it needs to
be creamed off.  You're embarrassed because you look like a man who
looks a lot like a woman?  But that's what you are!  What's your
problem with that?"

"Hayley, today I didn't want to look like a man who looks like a
woman!  I wanted to look like a man!  A man who looks like a woman
isn't a man!"  

It sounded silly when I said it that way.  I tried again.  "I mean,
effeminate men are sissies!"

Hayley just looked at me, amused, watching me thrash about.  "Well,
aren't they?  Isn't that what a sissy is?"  

"Men only respect men who are men!

"And they respect women who are women, don't they?"

"Yes."

"Honey, it sounds to me as if you're trying to tell me something
about a choice you need to make, but you don't want to listen to
yourself."

I was silent.

"Well, Darla was kind and encouraging.  I must give her a call and
thank her.  Did anyone treat you badly?"

"Yes.  A man from another division came by while I was talking to
Darla.  I knew him slightly, we never much liked each other."

"And?"

"He came to mock me!  Because as soon as he saw me he said, 'Well,
the Ponce!  We've been talking about you!  Someone spotted you in
the elevator, and I had to come see for myself.'  

At that point I told him that now that he's seen me, he can kiss my
ass.  He just laughed and said that's more my line of work these
days, and he asked was it true that I can't get off my knees any
more if there's still a cock swinging anywhere in front of my face? 
And that I decided to be a girl so I could suck cock full time? 
Then he moved on before I could punch him out!"       

"You poor dear.  Is that why you're so depressed?"

"Partly," I said.  "Darla heard him.  She told me that was going to
keep happening until I made up my mind which way to go for good. 
That I should rethink this half-way thing I was doing.  That I had
to be a man or a woman.  She said I should pump iron and chew
tobacco and spit in the sunofabitch's eye, or else dress properly
and wear lipstick to the office every day and then spit in the
sunofabitch's eye.  She offered me her lipstick to get me back
home.'  She was worried someone might get violent, or I might."  

"So you borrowed her lipstick."

"Yes.  And left the building.  My boy day was already ruined, so I
just did the rest as a girl day on my own, pulled all the slack in
my shirt around to the back so my breasts would show a little.  And
remembered to walk with my thighs close together, taking short
steps, and so on.

"You spent the rest of your boy day as a girl.  Did it work?"

"Yes.  Same as yesterday."

"Tell me"

"No one mocked me.  At the diner where I stopped for lunch, and
then later at the ballpark, everyone called me 'Miss,' or 'Ma'am'
or 'Hey, Lady!'  Some guys held doors open for me.  A guy started
talking to me the way your Jeff friend talked to you, leaning in
and turning on the charm.  A guy in the stands bought me a beer,
and when I tried to buy him the next one he bought me another, I
couldn't stop him.  And he didn't want anything from me, just a
smile!"

"Most men are nice," Hayley said.  "Some are shits.  But they all
have their uses."

"Anyhow, after the game I went to a sports bar."  I went on, though
I was now feeling much worse.  "This guy backed into me as if by
accident, and while he was pinning me to a wall he rubbed my boobs
with the backs of his shoulders.  And then he turned around, and he
actually did put a hand on me, he actually caressed a nipple! 
Smiling "oops!" as if it was all accidental.  I hauled back and I
really did hit him, and the bartender had to ask both of us to
leave.  But ...."  A wave of nausea started to build inside me.

"But what, babe?" Hayley asked.  Her voice was deeply sympathetic. 
I was beginning to feel really cruddy.  "Maybe you should try to
sleep now?  Tell me later?"

"Oh, Hayley!"  I was sort of desperate, near tears!  "Hayley, I
almost didn't mind!  That's the problem!  It felt so good, his hand
on my tit!  His finger feeling my nipple!  I wanted more!  I felt
so very queer!  That's why I hit him!  Then I ran out of the bar
and I came straight back here!  Hayley, what's happening to me?"

"It felt like this?"  Hayley put her soft, delicate hand on one of
my breasts and felt for the nipple.  I closed my eyes.  It felt
marvelous!  "Yes," she said, fondling me. "They've enlarged a lot
just since this morning, honey. You're well on the way!"  

She then reached for the other breast and caressed that one too. 
Both at once!  Glory!  Oh, sweet!  Sweet!  I closed my eyes and
concentrated on the feeling, and didn't even realize at first that
I was whimpering.  There was a strange gathering in my groin of
what might have been an orgasm if I'd had an erection, and it rose
to a peak!  And then, ecstasy!  "Ohhhh, God!" I cried out.  I did
want something, but I didn't know what!  Something!  I wanted
Hayley?  My dear sweet Hayley!  To do something for her?  I felt so
.... 

"Sweetheart," she said.  "Try to sleep now, dearest.  I'll call Dr.
Portland to let her know you've begun the next phase, so she can
send her nurse to ease you through it.  I'll be here the whole
time.  You'll be fine!  You'll see!"  She let her hand lie on my
swollen breast, and I felt comforted.  And under her breath I heard
her say to herself, "My poor dear!  Thank God!  No more halfway
measures any more!"

"Oh," I groaned.  I felt so awful now!  There was a dark ache in my
balls, like the aftermath of getting kicked there.  But Hayley's
hand cupping my breast through my babydoll filled me with such an
unspeakable, beautiful longing!  Even though I felt utterly
wretched! 

When I awoke it was dark, and I saw the figure of Dr. Portland's
nurse leaning over me.  "This'll help her hold down whatever you
can feed her," she said, and I felt a tug on my forearm.  A shot.

"Dramamine?" I asked.  "Motion sickness?"

"Shhh, go back to sleep," she said.  "Here!" And I felt another tug
and a pinprick.  "It's nothing, dear.  Your old hormones are
fighting the new ones.  This'll tell them to surrender gracefully. 
You won't feel so badly stressed out."  

Once again, blissful sleep.

When I next awoke, still feeling terrible, sunlight was streaming
through the room, and Hayley was asleep on a chair next to me.  I
watched her a while, until the dull ache in my groin spread and
deepened, and I groaned.  She woke up.

"Is it bad, baby?" she asked.

"Was it this bad for you?" I asked her in reply.  I should take her
mind off my problems, I was thinking, she looks so worried.  And my
mind too.  "I don't remember that you felt anything much after your
operation, except sore.  Didn't the three of you go to a movie that
night?"

She leaned over me and kissed me.  "What we had was what you had a
few days ago, a little soreness, then a feeling that we were a lot
heavier in front than before, and then gradually, that new
sensitivity you're beginning to notice.  That's all.  It's
different for you, because you have a lot further to go.  You
forget, honey, the three of us were already women.  I already had
breast tissue, fully shaped breasts, just not very big ones.  And
my hormones had developed my nipples and ducts and other glands
long before then, most of them were already fully formed.  And
they'd been in my bloodstream for my whole life, practically.  My
skin and my body were already soft, and filled out in interesting
places."

She paused a minute, and then in a studiously calm, reassuring
voice she went on.  "Dr. Portland is treating you as a special
patient.  Beginning at the very beginning and jump-starting you. 
You need to grow everything all at once.  So your implants are much
more heavily loaded." 

I wondered what she meant, but it was hard to concentrate.  "Like
what?" I managed to say.

"Breasts are living parts of a woman, Berry.  With this procedure
they grow naturally out of her body as the implants dissolve. 
Maybe you didn't understand.  Breasts develop on female bodies, so
the drugs in your implants are changing you, so everything will
feel right as they grow in.  So they'll feel like you.  So they'll
feel ... womanly, and you will too."

"Oh," I said.  I heard her, but I didn't understand, and then there
was this cramp! .... A needle and I was out again.                
                 

I woke again.  In addition to the dreary pain, I felt sick,
viciously nauseous.  I opened my eyes, and the room swam, and I
leaned over the edge of the bed to spill my guts into a bowl Hayley
had placed there.  Though nothing came up.  Then some time later,
I woke again.  This time Hayley was sitting alongside my bed,
reading, and as I leaned over she grasped my head and held it.

"Oh, Hayley!" I squealed.  I remembered that old sailor's quip
about how seasickness progresses, first you're afraid you'll die,
then you're afraid you won't. 

Hayley understood.  "My sweetie," she said.  "You poor dear!  I do
feel so sorry.  But it'll end!  You did tell Dr. Portland you
wanted everything all at once, so it's all happening at once,
that's all.  So of course you feel miserable.  But maybe tomorrow
you'll feel better?  Can you take a sip of water?"

"No," I said.  My stomach rose at the thought.

"A sip of me, maybe?"

"Yes."  

"Here, precious!"  A shadow descended on me.  I felt my face
swathed in folds of Hayley's blouse.  It had the scent of her skin. 
I felt her nipple touch my lips, and I gently sipped at it.  It
tasted so good!  Like mint!  A few sips, and I slept.  Then the
same thing a few more times again during the night, after Hayley
got into bed with me and lay there with her whole body pressed
against mine, one of her breasts fitted into my open mouth.  I
sucked from her as if from a bottle whenever I woke, and soon was
asleep again.  Her milk was so soothing!

When I next woke I realized that the ache in my bowels and below
them was almost gone, and that I wasn't queasy any more.  Hayley
could see I was better the moment I opened my eyes.  She urged me
to sit up and brace myself against the headboard.  

I saw that now I was wearing one of Hayley's nightgowns.  A lime
green nylon concoction with foamy lace on the sleeves.  I looked at
her.  There seemed to be nothing to say.

"It's about done," she said.  "I'm so relieved.  Honey, don't try
to do things yourself just yet.  What were you just thinking?"

"That I'm in your night gown."

"Because your baby dolls are all in the laundry right now.  You've
been sleeping through the worst of it.  You've been like a newborn
baby.  Now and then you'd dribble what I was feeding you, but you
were so eager for me, honey!  And your own breast fluids have come
in now, have you noticed yet?  You're so abundant they leak!  So
we've had to change you several times a day.  The nightie you're
wearing is especially big in the bodice, it's one of the few that
fit you right now, while your breasts are still swollen from your
first hormonal surge." 

I looked down.  They were swollen!  Two enormous globes tipped with
large tumescent cones!  Nipples the thickness of my thumb!

Hayley was amused to see the expression on my face.  "You really do
need to be milked, honey.  They're bigger than footballs!"

"My God!" I said.  "How can I ever pretend to be a man again?"

"Don't worry about it.  That isn't a problem any more.  They'll go
down to their proper size as they get accustomed to the drugs and
hormones you've got flowing through you now.  Sweetie, you're
different now!  Your body chemistry is that of a mature young
woman.  You even have some of a mature young woman's feelings.  In
effect you went through a forced adolescence while you were
asleep."  

She smiled affectionately. "Of course you missed out on the pajama
parties, and the Junior Prom, all those things.  And you've never
been kissed.  Nor laid.  We'll need to provide you with some of
that if you're to complete your transition."   

I looked at Hayley.  She was teasing me.  A little.  I hoped.  "How
long have I been out?"  

"Days and days, honey."  Hayley looked apologetic.  "You were so
terribly uncomfortable, between the pain and the nausea, and I was
so afraid your spasms might tear something, I asked the nurse to
keep you asleep till the worst was over.  Nearly a week.  And now
you're better, I can see it!"

I was sitting up, and the room was no longer heaving.  I was
better.  "Yes, honey," I said.  "Much!"

"Try to swing your legs over the side of the bed and stand up,"
Hayley said.  "Then you can sit down again if you like.  But
walking is even better.  It has to do with blood clots, especially
while you're hopped up on all those female hormones.  C'mon baby,
leggy over, that's it!"   

My last hints of morning sickness eased away altogether once I was
sitting with my legs over the side of the bed.  I took some deep
breaths.  Hayley's pale green nightgown came down to my ankles, I
saw, and it draped prettily.  As far as I could see I looked like
Hayley, not like me.  Feminine.  But they were my toes poking out
the bottom.  Not painted, like hers.  I felt a momentary
disorientation.

"Can you stand?"

I tried.  I could.  Then feeling a bit faint, I sat.  Then stood
again.  The second time it was easier.  I waited, then sat and
stood yet again.  No problem!

"Wonderful!" Hayley said.  "Now over to that chair?  I'll hold your
arm."

By the time I was seated in the chair I felt vastly better.  I said
so.

"Yes," Hayley said.  "Exercise, that's part of it.  But also the
... ahh .. medications.  They work best when you're moving about." 


end 7/10


VickieTern@AOL.COM

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Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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