* Annabelle writes to Mark after 2 years.
Dear Mark,
Hopefully this letter finds you well. Sorry for the long silence. Last semester at the hospital was really hectic as I had to finish up my last on campus assignments. Next semester I will be moving to another hospital again for my final practical.
I want you to know that the summer we spent together was the best time of my life. If Chloey is silly enough to ever let you go I will come to you in a blink.
As you are my best friend I also want you to know that all the encouragement you have been giving me hasn't gone to waste. As a trainee doctor at our uni hospital I am now entitled to free or massively discounted surgical procedures, including breast augmentation. The only thing was, I needed to get my supervising professor to approve the procedure. With all your egging, last summer I finally plucked up enough courage to see Prof. Wilkinson about my "little problem". He put me through some pretty rough therapies.
After a few 1 to 1 sessions, one of the things he did was to make me strip in front of my peers! At lunch, he gathered all the trainees who were working in our ward that day into one of the examination rooms. He got everyone to surround us in a circle. He then announced:
"Everyone, listen up. Your fellow student and colleague Annabelle has a confession to make. I do not want any one of you to be judgmental, but please lend her your support".
I was too dumbfounded to speak. I was the same wreck that stood before you when you asked me to strip for the first time. I felt blood rush to my cheeks and I was shaking. I could not look them in the eyes so I just stared blankly at the floor. Up till then everyone thought I had big tits.
Slowly I undressed without saying a word. When I got down to my bra, I unclasped it and pulled the straps over my shoulders one by one. All the while I held the cups of the bra close to my chest. I must have stood there forever with my 'breasts' in my hands.
The breasts felt soo good in my hands. So full, so ample, so attractive. The one womanly curve I did not have! I started to cry. This was my image, my shield. I wanted to lower the bra but my hands felt glued to my chest. Some nasty memories also came flooding back.
I'm going to tell you some of them now. The last "boyfriend" I had left me after he saw my real breasts. I cried for days. To make things worse he was going around telling all our friends from high school. Luckily I was accepted into med school so I skipped town very quickly.
You see, I had always been around him in my padded bras. I was hoping he would get interested in me as a person first. Sadly, he was especially immature even for high school.
Prof. Wilkinson tapped on my shoulder to bring me out of my reverie. I just dropped everything on the floor. My bra, the flesh colored falsies. I closed my eyes and steeled myself for the inevitable laughter that would come. I waited... and waited. There was gasp then just silence in the room!
Prof. Wilkinson the continued:
"Annabelle has serious body image problems. She had been stuffing her bras since high school to give the illusion of big breasts. Can you tell us how it started Annabelle?"
Exposing myself like that to a room full of peers should have been a shattering experience but somehow hearing Prof. Wilkinson explain it the way he did just made it sound clinical.
I re-counted another old nightmare. Unlike yourself, I have hated swimming pools for a long time. At the age of 14, all the other girls in my year were already showing prominent breast growth or budding at the least. Some girls got their first proper suits and they filled them out beautifully. I was still wearing a child's suit! You could see my nipples poking through the thin fabric of the chest piece.
While looking at the local Speedo shop one day, I saw "chicken cutlets" for the first time. I saved up my allowance to buy them. The next day I turned out at the pool so proudly. As I dove into the pool somehow the cutlets came loose and floated to the top of the water. A boy (let's not name him) grabbed them and started showing them to everyone! My entire class laughed at me. For the rest of the year I was made fun of mercilessly.
At 15, there was still nothing. It felt like mother nature had forgotten about me. By 16 I had slowly stuffed myself up to a C cup. I enjoyed the attention it got me but it was a stupid thing to do. I basically trapped myself.
