|
Dr. Hooters #21: The Gynosphere
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
DR HOOTERS - Pt. XXI
The Gynosphere
Watching from the upper story window, Blair saw the front gate
open and the white Jaguar convertible roar up the driveway. The
car door opened, and a tall, slender, leggy brunette in a navy-
blue business suit emerged. Good, Blair thought, Katrina was
home.
Katrina. It was hard to keep from thinking of her as Katrina.
"Jill" was the big-breasted blonde that Blair saw around the
house. "Katrina" was the leggy, all-business brunette that
"Jill" used to interact with the outside world. "Katrina" was
the CEO of Clayton Enterprises, a rapidly-growing web of finan-
cial, real estate, commercial, and insurance concerns. "Katrina"
had a legal existence; a Social Security Number, an address, sev-
eral bank accounts both here and abroad. "Katrina" was also fab-
ulously wealthy.
But Katrina was also Jill. Jill had a driver's license, a pass-
port, a legal residence in the state of Florida. But Jill was
also Sasha, a tall, athletic, Hershey-bar colored black girl.
There was also Dan, Carlene, Murphy, and Florence. It got dizzy-
ing sometimes.
The door closed as "Katrina" entered the atrium downstairs.
Blair heard her climb the stairs and walk purposefully towards
her room at the end of the hall. About fifteen minutes later,
she heard her name called.
"Blair!", she heard, "Blair, where are you?" Blair heard foot-
steps pacing up the hall to her room. She wasn't accustomed
enough yet to her hostess's different manifestations to tell from
the sound of the footfalls who she would be when she entered.
"Here I am", Blair responded, twisting in the windowsill to greet
her hostess. Blair's curly dark red hair shone like a nimbus
from the refracted sunlight. The door opened. It was Jill.
Good, Blair thought, she's gonna stick around the house.
Tossing back her thick, thigh-length mane of blonde locks, Jill
sat down on Blair's bed, then stretched herself out upon it like
a great golden lioness. Between the mat of Jill's hair, and the
great bean-bag-sized cushions of her breasts, there was very lit-
tle of Blair's bed that Jill didn't occupy.
In contrast, Blair was a bit thicker, a bit more plebean-looking.
This was not to say that Blair wasn't beautiful. Her hair was a
rich autumnal color,dark-red, falling in thick curls off her head
and down her back. Grass-green, or absinthe-green were two ways
she had heard her eyes described, and the reality was much more
vivid; a light, clear green the color of spring leaves, with
golden flecks.
"How're you doing today, baby?", Jill asked Blair, fixing her
with the eyes that could only be called laser-blue. Blair shiv-
ered. Even after two weeks as Jill's guest, she was still a bit
intimidated by her hostess's extreme beauty.
Yet, if a girl was going to live with Jill Clayton, she had to
know how to appreciate her own beauty, and not compare herself
with the unimaginable Jill. Blair had learned how how to do
that.
"Pretty good, Ms. Clayton", Blair lied, "I've been busy." Blair
turned in the windowsill to face Jill, but her own enormous
breasts, which, actually, were larger than Jill's, treatened to
wedge her tightly into the sill.
The unfairness of it was that Jill could appear any way she
cared, yet this was how she looked when she didn't give it any
thought. Her default-mode was this blonde goddess, all her oth-
er manifestations were just that, variations, a declension from
perfection.
Laughing merrily as she tucked her long, muscular, golden-tanned
legs under her tight round ass, Jill sat up in the bed. "Baby!",
she giggled, "You don't have to call me 'Ms. Clayton'. Call me
Jill!" Jill swayed back and forth on the bed, her massive
breasts swaying gently with the motion.
Jill's mood suddenly darkened. "You're going to have to get used
to the new you sooner or later, Blair baby.", Jill admonished.
"I can't have you calling me Ms. Clayton, or Brenda Ms. Hill for
that matter. We're Jill and Brenda!" she penetrated Blair's
composure with her ice-blue stare. "Have you been doing your
meditation exercises?'
"Of course", Blair replied emphatically. She started fidgeting
with a stray strand of her dark, curly red hair. The same color
hair Julie has, Jill noted.
"No you haven't. If you had, you'd be much futher along than you
are now, Blair"
Blair broke down and began to cry. She flew into Jill's arms,
choking on her own tears, her huge breasts heaving with the force
of her sobs. "I'm sorry, Jill", she sobbed. "You and Brenda
have been so wonderful to me, but, but..."
"You miss your sister, don't you? You miss Amanda." She reached
over both her own enormous breasts and Blair's to stroke Blair's
curly mop of thick red hair.
"It was fun at first, wasn't it?", Jill continued. "Growing up
quick, getting big, bigger, bigger than all the other girls in
school. Then bigger than all the high school girls, even girls
as big as Mary Lou Rodriguez. Attracting attention, having boys
watching you, wanting you."
Blair looked up into Jill's eyes, which had darkened with compas-
sion. She nodded her assent.
"But now, bam, your big little girl's world has been shook up a
little. Your mother and grandmother vanished. Your sister kid-
napped. Your boy friend, who is he? That little street-mouse
turned Adonis..."
"T-tommy", Blair whimpered, feeling better now.
"Not one day after you lose your cherry to him, your boyfriend up
and vanishes too!", Jill laughed, "and you're stuck in a big
house, mostly alone, with two grown women you've only just met,
and told that if you ever want to see your family and boyfriend
again, you have to practice a lot of stupid meditation exercises!
That's an awful lot for a ten year old girl, Blair!"
Jill slid over to make room for Blair on the bed, not an easy
task since their huge tits kept colliding. Finally, Blair came
to rest with her head down by Jill's feet, reclining on her el-
bows.
"I love what I've become, Jill", Blair replied, stroking the
sides of her gargantuan knockers. "I wouldn't go back for any-
thing. Whoever would want to be a little girl like I was when
she could have what we have, Jill? Of course, I can't sleep on
my stomach any more. I have to watch where I'm going so I don't
knock things over with my tits. I can't go out without drawing a
crowd, and I have to put my shoes on in front of a mirror."
Jill howled with laughter. "But if you fall over, you bounce
right back up again!"
Crawling up until she was nipple-to-nipple with the seated Jill,
Blair stared out across the six feet of tit-flesh that separated
her from her mentor and friend. "I dreamed last night that I was
a little girl again, Jill", she said calmly. "I didn't have my
tits, I didn't have my ass, I didn't have my hair. No one paid
any attention to me. I tried talking to my mom, but she didn't
listen to me. I tried talking to Candy Suarez- she's a girl in
the sixth grade at school- but she just stuck her nose up at me,
and walked on by. I tried talking to Mary Lou Rodriguez, but she
laughed at me!"
"Then I woke up. I felt these big, big breasts I've got now. I
saw them, me, under the covers, like two little hills rising up
under the sheets. And I realized, I'll never be little, or unim-
portant, or insignificant again!"
Embracing her massive tits with both arms, Blair just managed to
touch the swollen, soup-can sized nipples at their distant tips.
"Jill, this is all **me**, Blair Reilly. This is who I am now.
I can't be any different than what I am!"
Thrusting her own chest past Blair, Jill was able to hug her from
the side. The two women sat rocking each other back and forth
for a while. "I know! I know, Blair! I've told you my story.
I've been little and unimportant, too. All that's changed now.
All that's changed now. We need to find out why. Come down to
the pool."
************* Behind Jill's villa was a large, Olympic-sized
pool, surrounded by terra-cotta pavement with several tables and
chairs. The two women stripped completely naked, shivering
slightly in the unseasonably cool air. The privacy at Jill's vil-
la was total. Not even her security personnel had access to
this, the sanctum sanctorum of Jill's new life. Blair had taken
advantage of this to get herself a even, golden tan. All over.
With no tan lines.
Jill took Blair by the hand and led her into the pool. Blair
sighed as the cool water surrounded her, bouyed and floated her
immense breasts. She relaxed and drifted out into the deepest
part of the pool, guided by Jill. Soon, she couldn't touch, and
she began to tense, but her huge tits acted like built-in life
preservers, keeping her head and upper body well above the water
line. Jill moved underneath her and lifted her legs until she
was able to float freely in the water. The feeling was one of
total relaxation. She felt her breath deepen and become less
frequent.
"That's it, Blair", admonished Jill. "Now concentrate, let them
grow. Its the most natural thing in the world".
Blair began the rhythmic breathing Jill had taught her. She
imagined a wheel of force spinning right behind her forehead.
That area began to warm and Blair began to concentrate on moving
the wheel down her head and neck. The warmth began to spread
down her throat and into her upper thoracic region. Blair forced
the warmth to divide, and to migrate down the length of her mi-
crowave-sized breasts. She continued to concentrate as the wave
passed down through their mighty bulk and began to center in her
nipples.
Jill could sense her protege's efforts. "Now, push it, push it
away from yourself", she counseled.
Concentrating and using her arms as a point of reference, Blair
felt the wheels of force recede from her body. The warmth now
generalized through her body, insulating her from the cool wa-
ter. She sighed deeply. The points of heat in her nipples
seemed to be floating now down near her waist, and moved ever
further from her. Jill nodded her approval. Young Blair's al-
ready large breasts had almost doubled in volume now, and were
still growing. Jill watched as Blair's twin islands of flesh
grew and swelled. The bouyancy of the water kept Blair from
feeling any of the weight she would have if they had practiced
the technique on dry land. Jill shuddered at the memory.
Finally, Blair's breasts had grown until they were each about
double the size of the rest of her body, and Blair was only the
merest step away from deep slumber. Her now-gargantuan breasts
bobbed in the water like two great fleshy rafts.
"OK, now reach out", Jill instructed. "Try to 'see' with your
breasts". ; "I see a bright, crystalline light almost directly in
front of me", Blair murmured.
"Good", Jill approved. "Do you see anything else?"
"I see an amber light, not so bright, just a little further down,
and to the left". Blair reached deeper into the trance, and sud-
denly, lights began to blossom all around her. She became quite
excited. "I see, I see a thousand, a million tiny little
lights, all very dim, almost invisible, but all around me! It's
beautiful!"
Blair reached even further into the trance, and saw a great black
flame, burning with intense heat. She recoiled from it. It
seemed quite close by. She told Jill about it, and Jill began to
stoke her hand. Then she saw four stars, just slightly brighter
than the background glitter, just beginning to glow with a more
concentrated light. She tried to penetrate more deeply into the
trance, but she couldn't. She felt Jill's hand lift her head,
and she woke from her meditation, and gasped at the size and im-
mense girth of her mammoth breasts.
"My God, Jill", Blair exclaimed, "I'm enormous!"
"I was right to try the meditation exercises in the pool, Blair",
Jill stated. "You've penetrated further into the gynosphere than
ever!"
"The what-o-sphere", asked Blair as she stepped from the pool in-
to the towel Jill held out for her. Her big breasts had
shrunk to their previous size, and jutted proudly off her rib
cage like twin watermelons. She patted one huge tit dry with
the towel, then worked on the other one. It took her the better
part of five minutes to dry them both.
"The gynosphere", added Jill mysteriously, "is a force just now
emerging into the world again after millenia of submergence. It
is, in part, the energies of millions of ordinary women striving
to become what we've become".
"You mean, having big tits like ours?"
Jill laughed, and cupped her hands under her own ample breasts.
"We're built pretty good, aren't we? You and me and Brenda. But
having big tits is just, well, like an outward symbol of the
power and abundance that women can acquire through participation
in the gynosphere!"
Blair lowered her head. She admired and appreciated her new
friend, but Jill did get pretty weird sometimes.
**********************
Having dried herself off with a towel, Blair stretched herself
out on one of the pool chairs, secure in the knowledge that
Jill's retaining wall kept out all prying eyes. The warmth of
the Florida sun seemed to seep iside of her, lulling her, relax-
ing her, until on the very frontiers of sleep, she heard a door
open behind her.
Turning around, she saw Brenda striding up.
"Hey, kid. Where's Jilly?", Brenda demanded.
Being addressed as 'kid' rankled Blair a bit, especially after
Jill had lectured her on mental attitude. Blair thrust her chin
out, reached around her big breasts and pulled her sunglasses out
of her purse.
"Brenda, could you put some suntan oil on my back? Please, be a
heart!", Blair pleaded. She rolled over onto her stomach, not a
very comfortable position for her as she had to recline on top of
her tits at about a 45-degree angle. Fortunately, they were
large enough for her to cross her arms over and lay her head upon
comfortably.
"Sure, kid. Be glad too", Brenda replied, sitting down beside
her and uncapping the suntan oil. Blair sighed as the warm lo-
tion hit her back, applied by Brenda's small, graceful hands.
Carefully, she continued down Blair's back, to the firm round
cheeks of her young ass, her thighs, and her calves.
"Where did'ya say Jill went off to, Blair?", Brenda continued.
"I didn't", Blair replied. "Sasha has a date tonight, I think.
Jill probably won't be back until after that". Blair and Brenda
had assumed the useful tactic of referring to Jill's various per-
sonae as separate individuals.
"Sasha?", Brenda muttered. "Damn! Now we're sure to have some
nigger running around the house tonight again."
Blair darkened. "Brenda, I wish you wouldn't talk like that!",
she admonished. "Sasha's always had good taste. Remember that
architect she brought home that time? You sure looked like you
wanted to jump his bone"
Smacking Blair squarely on the cheek of her ass with her open
palm, Brenda sputtered. "I **did** jump his bone, kid. So
there!"
"God damn! That sun feels good!", Brenda exclaimed. "I think
I'll join you." Brenda was not encumbered by a lot of clothing.
On top, she was wearing a tormented red tank-top about three
sizes too small, revealing a breathtaking expanse of her mar-
velously large and well-shaped bosom. She peeled it off with
difficulty. It was as tight as a second skin.
"Be a honey, Blair, and unhook my bra.", Brenda requested, turn-
ing her back to Blair. Brenda's bra, which she really didn't
need despite the size and volume of her breasts, was a complicat-
ed affair with about nine hooks mounted on a band the width of a
placemat. Blair grunted at the difficulty of the task, as she
had to reach her left arm over the vast expanse of her own tits
and get at it from the side.
"I wouldn't even wear one, kid, but it seems to turn the cus-
tomers on.", Brenda explained. "I'm sorry I went off on you,
Blair. I didn't mean it. I had a hard night last night. Six
assholes tried to play a little titty-grab, and I had to bust
their shit."
Blair gave her a pat on the shoulder, as if to say, don't think
about it. Jill had told her all about Brenda. It was hard to
believe that this spectacular-looking woman was once a man. She
and Jill looked enough alike to be sisters; same golden-blonde
hair, same sky-blue eyes, same butter-cream complexion toasted to
a golden brown by the Florida sun.
Pouring the suntan oil out onto her palm, Brenda began greasing
down her huge tits. She was smaller than Jill, and considerably
smaller than Blair, but still much, much larger than any other
woman Blair had ever seen up to a couple of months ago.
"You know, Blair, one thing about having tits like ours, you sure
go through the suntan oil.", Brenda gloated. "Its really kind of
a shame your mom didn't drink some of my milk when she had a
chance. She's such a doll, but she coulda used a little extra
titty. How'd she feel when you and your baby sister outgrew her
so quickly?"
Accustomed to Brenda's crudity, Blair responded calmly. "Mom can
take care of herself, Brenda, and I never heard any of her
boyfriends complain about her tits. She was proud of us, and
loved dressing us up and showing us off. She never was a bit
jealous." Not like some people I know, added Blair mentally.
Ever since Blair had arrived, Brenda had been snipping at her in
one way or another. Calling her 'kid', insulting her mother, who
used to work for Brenda as an exotic dancer, referring to her
boyfriend Tommy as that 'little grass-nigger'. At first, Blair
put up with it, but it was becoming more and more irritating.
She had talked to Jill, actually Katrina, about it, and Katrina
explained Brenda's state-of-mind to her.
"I created Brenda in revenge, you know", she had said, "I always
meant to change her back, but she got so used to her new life as
a woman that I never got around to it. Maybe that was a mistake.
It might be impossible now."
"Anyway", Katrina added, "you should never forget that it was
Brenda who made you what you are today. Not me. Not directly."
That was true. Blair and Tommy had stolen two gallons of Bren-
da's breast milk out of the back of her car one night. She and
Amanda had drank it, and now, they were even bigger than Brenda
herself, something that rankled Brenda considerably.
Returning to the land of the living, Blair scrutinized Brenda's
body for any trace of the man she once was. No, it wasn't there
in the delicate features of her lovely face, nor in the graceful
lines of her arms, shoulders, legs and thighs. Her breasts were
decidedly unmasculine, broodingly large and almost spherical,
jutting two feet or more out from her rib cage in an exuberant
display of femininity.
Her sex was entirely female as well. Brenda had a dainty pussy ,
a prominent love-mound covered with soft blonde hair, and pink,
moist lips.
No, Blair thought, Brenda was a woman. Jill proved that to her
with a microscope one night. Her masculine roots didn't reveal
themselves in her body, but rather in the way she used it. Bren-
da was wildly promiscuous.
At the beginning, in the first bloom of her enhanced sexuality
and in the first stirrings of her titanic power, Jill had gone a
bit amok. It had been six months since the night in the lab, and
Jill estimated that she had been to bed with about a thousand
men, and not a few women, since then. Especially in the first
months, she had been insatiable, as she explored the erotic capa-
blities of her mutable new body.
But Jill had calmed down. As Sasha, she had a steady boyfriend.
As Katrina, she was celibate, concentrating on her business af-
fairs, which had prospered beyond her most meticulous planning.
As Jill, she consented to a wild night once in a while, with
Brenda urging her on, of course.
Brenda, though, was unstoppable. She was as randy as she was
beautiful. Long after she had stopped needing her job at the
strip club for financial reasons, she continued at it because it
gave her an opportunity for meeting men. It was not uncommon for
Brenda to bring home three, four, five men a day. Indeed, Jill
installed her in a back bedroom, with its own entrance and stair-
way, just to accomodate her enormous sexual appetites.
Blair couldn't count the times she had been awakened in the dead
of night these past two weeks by Brenda's ecstacies. How could
anyone need so much sex?
"She's making up for lost time, Blair", Jill had explained to
her. "Brendon never got laid, ever."
"But you told me you never did either, Jill", she had replied.
"And what about me? I don't feel any need to get laid every five
minutes."
"Brenda's a very special person, Blair. Just let her have her
fun, for now. I'll move you to a different room."
**************************
|
|
