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"A bra? Hm... well, her tits are pretty big. A bra would definitely helpkeep them from bouncing when she walks..." A grin rivalling a Banette'sspread over her face. "So no! Let her go without one!"Ash whimpered as James laughed. "Gotcha, Jessie!" he grinned, picking up abottle of indigo nail polish and beginning to apply coats of colour to therapidly-less-of-a-boy's nails. Once all twenty of his digits ended in thepretty colour, James returned to the pile of clothing and picked up thenext insult to Ash's masculinity; a skirt.Once again, James slid the skirt up Ash's legs and situated it around hiswaist; it was a pleated number with each side of the folds having alighter or darker shade of indigo, giving it a striped appearance. Despitehis young age, the skirt barely reached mid-thigh, ensuring that hiswaxed, lotioned, smooth legs would be on display for all to see."Oh, Arceus..." Ash groaned, but James wasn't done yet. He picked up thematching top, a boob tube that would leave Ash's. My chest changed evenmore dramatically; I actually had a pair of firm, well-defined breasts.Mimi assured me I had nothing to worry about, that my body chemistrywas adjusting unusually to my radical change in diet and exercise, andthat it would sort itself out soon. When I meekly suggested thatperhaps I should stop, she appraised my body and smiled."Don't be in such a hurry, Sweetheart," she murmured appreciatively,eyeing me hungrily. "We'll just get you a new wardrobe, something morebecoming to your new attributes. I like you just the way you are. Youlook so much more - desirable now."She emphasized the point with an embrace and a deep, soul-searing kiss.She massaged my plush asscheeks, moving up my flared hips, flatstomach, and narrow waist, until she came to my blossoming bosom. Shemanipulated my nipples between her thumbs and forefingers, and theexquisite sensations from my sensitive nerve-endings jarred my senses.She casually moved one hand gently down my body, then between my.
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But she didn't know how."How is your husband, Melanie?"And she told John that she truthfully didn't know, that he seemed normal outwardly, but wouldn't talk about what had happened."Do you want more of me, Melanie?"Yes, she told him. She found the strength to whisper that, alone in the dark."How does he feel about that?"I don't know, she answered. I could meet you-"No, I don't want that."She fell to silence."Are you fucking him?"Sort of. She told him about the other night, how they both had done things that they hadn't in the past."I want you to quit fucking him. Do you understand me? No pussy, no blow jobs. No fingering his asshole. Tell him you have the flu or something. Call me in the afternoons, so that I know that you are doing as you are told. OK?"OK.And so life went on as normal, more or less, except that Melanie now made a daily phone call to John. John would ask her if she had done as she was told, and she would reply that she had.One day, though, John asked her how she was.

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