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Message-ID: <38181asstr$1031393406@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Jonothon Darksong <jdarksong@yahoo.com>
Subject: {ASSM} [sapphic] A 'New You'
Date: Sat,  7 Sep 2002 06:10:06 -0400
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
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Greetings.

   I have decided to submit a contribution for each catergory.  Here is
submission number 2.

   J.  Darksong

   __________________________________________________ Do You Yahoo!? 
Yahoo! Health - Feel better, live better http://health.yahoo.com

   <1st attachment, "sappho2.txt" begin>

   Sapphic Festival Entry #2 ---- C: 'Last Line' Challenge

   Story: A 'New You'

   By J.  Darksong



   I don't know what ever possessed me to go inside that damn store in the
first place.  I've always considered myself a lady, a woman with class,
dignity, and upbringing.  I had been brought up in a respectable family,
one well known for generations for its wealth and sophistication.  I wasn't
a snob, far from it, but I DID respect the fact that social classes DO
exist in the world, and some boundaries simply are not meant to be crossed.


   Despite all this, Thursday morning I found myself entering the 'New You'
boutique.  Perhaps the name had drawn me in; heaven only knew I could
certainly use a new life.  My husband, Roger, had taken off for the French
Riviera once again with his secretary, Buffy, 'on business' and wouldn't be
back for a week.  I knew quite well what sort of business he was up to,
having caught him at it several times in the past five years of marriage,
but his family and mine had built up a stellar reputation in the world of
business, and as much as I loathed the bastard, I wouldn't divorce him and
besmirch my family's reputation.

   Truth be told, the thought of being alone was what kept me married to
the louse.  That Roger would rather be with an air-headed, silicone-chested
floozy than his own wife only spoke of how much of a disappointment I must
be.  It seems silly to think that, now, but at the time I had been totally
taken in by Roger's smug, superior attitude.

   Entering the boutique, I frowned, startled to find that what appeared to
be nothing more than a smut-filled lingerie store had taken residence here
within this once upscale business neighborhood.  Everywhere I looked, I saw
hundreds of bras, panties, and corsets, not the tasteful, fashionable kind
modeled in Victoria's secret, but the kind of gaudy, fluorescent colored,
or leather made products ordered in catalogs and delivered in plain brown
packages.  I was shocked.  Indeed, I took it as a personal affront to my
sense of decency, and pushed my way back into the back room to speak to the
manager personally.

   The store manager/owner turned out to be a beautiful, blonde woman named
Sheri.  The very sight of her only incensed me more; she was tall,
five-eleven, large chested, about a 36DD, with a clear complexion, a slight
rose-colored tan, a slim waistline, and long shapely legs.  She was a
younger, prettier, version of Buffy, and it made my normal five-seven
one-thirty pound, brunette frame seem like a withered old hag by
comparison.

   "I'm sorry," she said, smiling politely, "but only employees are allowed
back here.  Is there something you need, Miss?  I'll be just a moment."

   "What I NEED," I hissed angrily, "is to know how the State and Local
Business Bureau allowed you to set up this...  this...  SHOP in the middle
of a high level business section of town like this!  The things you're
selling here are indecent, and I intend to lodge a formal protest!"

   Sheri sighed softly, dropping the boxes she'd been carrying.  "I see. 
Miss, I think you've misjudged me and my business completely.  We sell only
the highest quality lingerie here, and though we cater to more...  shall we
say, 'diverse' tastes than are normally found in Beverly Hills, there is
nothing here that is in any way pornographic or smutty."

   I was flabbergasted.  I was being talked down to by a working class
nobody.  Eyes narrowed, I retorted, "Well, we'll just see what my friends
in the Business Bureau have to say about that!" I turned to walk away,
intending to storm out and head straight to John Bradley's office in the
Bureau, when Sheri grabbed my arm.

   "Wait a minute," she said softly, reaching behind her, opening a small
cardboard box.  "I think you had a reason to come in here.  I think you
came in here because you were in search of a change in your life, a new
you. Well, new beginnings are what we sell here." She took out a very large
black satin bra, sealed in a plastic bag, and handed it to me.  "Take it,
as a gift," she said with a smile.

   "You think you can use a cheap bra as a gift to buy me off?" I shouted.
"Well think again!  I'll take this alright...  take it and show the Bureau
first hand exactly the kind of things being sold here." I turned and
stormed out of the shop, clenching the package tightly in my hand.  Looking
up at the sky, I was shocked to see it was night; hadn't it only been
midday when I entered the shop?  Turning back to the door I'd just exited,
I saw the lights were out, and the shades pulled down.  Shaking my head in
confusion, I headed home.

   * * *

   Arriving home, I decided to take a shower.  I removed my clothing, and
entered the shower.  Sighing, I began lathering my naked body, trying not
to linger on the smallness of my A-cup breasts, or the thin, sharp angles
of my face, or the relative lack of curvature in my hips.  I was pretty,
and I knew it, but I would never be BEAUTIFUL.  I could never grow into the
curvaceous, drop-dead gorgeous type of woman that turned the heads of those
that glanced them walking by.  I left the shower feeling worse than I had
going in.  I toweled myself dry, and walked into the bedroom.  The black
satin bra lay on the bed, where I'd left it, and without knowing exactly
what I was doing, I'd ripped open the bag, and was pushing it against my
chest.

   "It figures," I said with disgust.  "The damn thing is two sizes too big
for me anyway." Still, it felt nice against my skin, and loose or not, it
looked really well on me.  Despite my feelings about the damn thing, I left
it on, and slipping on a pair of matching black panties, got into bed.  I
settled into sleep, murmuring softly about how nice the fabric felt against
my nipples...

   The dreams were chaotic, fragmented, but incredibly intense.  I seemed
to be in the middle of an orgy, being licked and sucked on by dozens of
people, all eager, desperate, to make love to me, to pleasure me all over
from my head to my toes.  The strange part was that the lovers were all
WOMEN.  Stranger still, the only face discernable in the dream.  the only
person whose face and body was perfectly crystal clear, was Sheri.  She
smiled at me, leaning forward to kiss me, and I leaned into her, dripping
with passion, shuddering and giggling softly at the soft supple lips
sucking on my toes, moaning in pleasure at the tongue thrust deep into my
wet hot pussy, groaning in total ecstasy as Sheri broke our kiss and leaned
over to cup my breast, and extending her tongue, began to suckle me...

   The alarm clock woke me.  I sat up, gasping, fully expecting to see
Sheri lying next to me.  After a moment or two, I realized where I was,
and, yawning, stretched and exited the bed.  I shuffled my way into the
bathroom, musing to myself the significance of the dream.  It had been so
real, so powerfully erotic, and yet so utterly strange.  In all my
thirty-one years, I had never once entertained the idea of sex with another
woman.  I'd never felt any attraction for the same sex at all.  The idea
itself always seemed...  wrong.  And yet, the very thought of those mouths,
those fingers and tongues, made me weak in the knees, and caused my thighs
to slicken.  I had to lean against the sink for support.  Regaining my
balance, I stared into the mirror--- and immediately sought out the sink to
support me once more.

   "My...  God..." I whispered, staring back at my reflection in disbelief.
The bra, which had hung loosely on my frame the night before, was no
bulging at the seams.  Last night it had been two sizes too small; now it
seemed three sizes too tight.  As she stared, her breasts seemed to pulse,
and the bra strap snapped, falling to the bathroom floor.  My breasts had
grown from an A to a C cup overnight!  Unable to believe it, thinking I
must still be asleep, I touched my breasts, gently.  Immediately a euphoria
swam through me, and I launched into a session of self-love the likes I'd
never experienced before.  With one hand wedged deep between my legs, the
other caressing and rubbing my swollen nipples, I worked myself through
four monster orgasms before I slipped, exhausted, to the bathroom floor.

   It didn't take long to figure out the bra was the cause of these strange
unsettling events.  My breasts had become super-sized, super sensitive, and
very erotic.  I wanted to know how this had happened, and I knew Sheri was
the only one who could tell me.  I intended to dress and drive back to that
store and demand answers, but I now had a small problem.  My breasts were
still growing, and their sensitivity was increasing.  I had no bras that
would even come close to covering them now, and when I attempted to simply
cover them with a sweater, the sensation of the wool fibers caressing my
nipples set off a series of spasmodic eruptions that nearly knocked me
unconscious.

   In the end, I was forced to call the store.  Luckily, 'New You' was
listed in the phone book.  "Hello?" the familiar voice of Sheri answered.

   "He...hello," I replied hesitantly, remembering the gruff way I'd
treated her yesterday.  "Sheri?  This is Mrs.  Patricia Thorne...  uhm,
well, you might not remember me...  but we, uhm spoke yesterday.  In the
back room..  while you were stocking." Silence was the only response, so I
continued.  "You...  you gave me...  a b-b-bra.  A black satin bra---"

   "OHHHHHH!" Sheri responded, knowingly.  "I remember now.  You're the
lady that was a bit upset the other day.  I take it you've tried on our
product?"

   "Yes," I answered, blushing slightly.  "That's the problem.  I tried it
on, and...  and now my breasts have almost quadrupled in size!  And they're
still growing!  They're about a 36DD right now.  I can't even leave the
house, because the slightest touch on my nipples sets me off." I blushed
even deeper; I hadn't meant to make such a revelation to a complete
stranger over the phone.

   "Don't worry, Mrs.  Thorne," Sheri replied.  "I can help you.  I know
just how to stop your breasts from growing.  Give me your address, and I'll
be right over."

   I was between a rock and a hard place.  With all the weird things that
had happened, I was very anxious about having this woman in my house, yet
if someone didn't help me stop my ever expanding breasts, they'd outgrow
the rest of my body.

   I was up to a 42DD by the time she arrived.  The moment she stepped
inside, flashbacks of my dream hit me like a kick in the gut.  She was
perfection on two legs, but this time, instead of feeling anger or jealousy
at her appearance, I felt only an intense lust.  I wanted...  no, I NEEDED
to touch her, caress her, rip off her clothes and make hot passionate love
to this woman.  The need must have been evident in my eyes, for without a
word, she nodded to me, and taking my hand, led me back to the bedroom.

   Our clothes somehow disappeared, vanishing somewhere between the hallway
and the bedroom.  Naked now, we slid back to my king size bed, and despite
my inexperience, began to make mad passionate love.  Her fingers felt like
silk caressing my flesh, and my breathing grew rapid as she traced them
gently along my back, my hips, along my panty line, to my ready and waiting
pussy.  My own tentative groping grew more relaxed and sure, and one hand
moved to cup her own dark blonde mound while the other flicked gently
against her left nipple.

   Sheri's back arched tightly from the contact, and she shook violently as
she came, hard.  Instinct kicked in, and my fingers slid deep within her
slit, fingerfucking her into a frenzy, while my fingers rubbed and caressed
her engorged nipples.  Somehow I knew they were every bit as sensitive as
my own, and the combination of TIT-tilation, and furious finger fucking had
her in a state.  After a while, I relented, and let her rest, after which
it was MY turn.  Her mouth fed hungrily on his breasts, and I was glad
afterwards that my large house was several blocks away from anyone else's,
otherwise my screams would have brought the entire police force.

   That session marked a series of changes in my life.  My breasts finally
bottomed out at s respectable 48DD, with which I was very happy.  Whatever
magic or sorcery had caused them to grow caused the rest of me to grow as
well, to match my new look.  When Roger came home from his trip and saw the
new me, he nearly had a heart attack.  He actually DID go into cardiac
arrest when I presented him with the divorce papers, and rather than get
awarded half of the property in a bitter divorce, the judge awarded me the
entire thing after the funeral.  Buffy, who turned out to be bi, became my
lover, and now we travel to the Riviera from time to time, though its
always for pleasure, never business.

   I never saw Sheri again.  The day after our love session, I stopped by
the store to see how she was settling in, but the property was vacant.  The
Business Bureau claimed it had never been occupied, that it had been open,
waiting for a buyer for six months.  I can only suppose my mysterious
friend is out there, somewhere, brining a new life to someone else who
needs it.  I only wish I could have had the chance to thank her.

   I still don't know what I'm going to do with her bra, though.

   ((END))

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