This story is posted on the Literotica website. Do not repost anywhere else without the author's consent. For fans of my stories, they know what kinds of things to expect. This story deals with similar themes as the stories by wannabeboytoy, seducedHylas, and Dark Betrayal, namely cheating, betrayal, and heartbreak. If stuff like that isn't your cup of tea, then you probably shouldn't bother reading it. I do not condone any of these actions in real life. This is just a story. Enjoy.
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Kathleen was ending her day like she did many others: squeezing another woman's massive, soft, perky breasts.
She was just one of many women Kathleen had to deal with on a daily basis. She was an older woman, somewhere in her forties, slim and still in shape, therefore the size of her breasts was practically obscene on her frame. But she seemed happy with them, so Kathleen wasn't gonna pass judgment. Her skin was tanned, probably from years living in the sun, a permanently baked in kind of tan that would never go away. Her boobs looked enormous, jutting out from her chest, like over-ripe melons, but despite their immense size, they stood proud on her chest, firm and springy.
Kathleen slid her hands over every inch of the soft, smooth breast flesh, judging the woman's reaction. To be honest, Kathleen always been kind of put off by the older woman, finding her to be shrill, hard to deal with and kind of a hypocrite. But, as said before, it wasn't Kathleen's place to judge, so she just kept squeezing her big boobs.
"Any pain since the surgery?" Dr. Kathleen Schaeffer asked, her latex covered hands gripping her patient's soft, recently enhanced breasts.
"No. None at all," the older woman said, her pronounced southern accent standing out as she replied in a haughty tone. Kathleen had dealt with lots of women like her, so she was used to it. Kathleen stayed calm asked her patient a few more standard questions, and since she was satisfied with the answers, they could finish up fast.
"Okay, Harper, you can get dressed. You're good to go." Kathleen explained with a courteous smile. At this, her older blonde patient stood up and grabbed her top and some of her other belongings.
"Now Doctor," she began, grabbing her small, crucifix necklace and quickly putting it back on, the silver cross quickly getting lodged between her large enhanced breasts. "There's no way for, like, anyone to find out that I'm one of your patients, right? There's a lot of gossips out there, and I'd rather not have them spreading any vicious rumors. I'm the wife of a very important man, and these kinds of rumors could do some very serious damage to our reputation."
"Doctor-patient confidentiality is very important to us, as is patient privacy. Don't worry, our records are sealed," Kathleen explained calmly, having had this discussion before. Harper looked at the doctor, distrust in her eyes, as if she was trying to discern if this was all some scheme on Kathleen's part to expose her enhancements to the world, but sensing the truth in the doctor's tone, she finally relented.
"Very good," Harper said, putting her bra on before pulling on her top. She then put on a pair of chunky sunglasses, and a big southern-belle type hat, obscuring her identity. Fully dressed, she grabbed her purse and began to march towards the door.
"Call me if there are any problems..." Kathleen said, but the older blonde was already halfway out the door.
"Got it," Harper called out dismissively, not looking back. Kathleen rolled her eyes, happy to be done with her. She was used to her type, especially in this area. An older woman, trying to keep her husband's interest by getting her tits done, but trying to carry on as if nothing had changed. As if their boobs just got two times bigger overnight, thanks to prayer and hard work. Prayer, especially in Harper's case, as she was the wife of some big deal preacher who promoted clean-living, godliness, and hard work in the name of the church. But in this case, the only hard work was being done by Dr. Kathleen Schaeffer and her very talented hands.
Dr. Kathleen Schaeffer had quickly become one of the most highly-prized and most widely regarded plastic surgeons in the entire world. Not bad for a 32-year-old. Some said she had a gift, but she always laughed that idea off, despite the knowledge that it was probably true. If she had a gift, she would have asked for it to be something more substantial and world-bettering than enhancing other women's breast size to obscene proportions, but it was certainly a living.
She had higher aspirations than this when she went through medical school and her early rotations. She had dreamed of doing a Doctors without Borders type thing, going to third-world countries to give much needed medical care to those in need. But her advisors during her plastics rotation were just so wowed by her natural skill, and they almost wouldn't let her go in any other direction. They were so amazed watching her that their praise felt almost embarrassing. They were looking at her as if they were watching Da Vinci at work. One of her advisors pulled her in to assist on a breast augmentation, and the doctor looked at the results as if he had discovered some lost treasure. Even in this small role, the doctor realized that this augmentation was easily among the best he had ever seen. As Kathleen was given more leeway and full control of these augmentations, the results only improved, creating some of the most impressive pairs of fake breasts the world had ever seen. Offers came rolling in for Kathleen to join a private plastics practice, and despite her higher aspirations, the money was too good to pass up.
The practice she joined was highly regarded even before Kathleen joined, and her presence only increased its prestige. It housed some truly excellent plastic surgeons of different specialties. Some did tummy tucks and face lifts. Some worked to hide scars or fix deformities. One of the other doctors did butt implants on a regular basis. But the big moneymakers were the breast implants that Kathleen did, and even though Kathleen was much younger than some of her counterparts, the quality of her work led her to be just as highly regarded as her coworkers, if not more so.
The results spoke for themselves, and word began to spread about her talents. As the years went on and Kathleen became more involved with every aspect of the procedure, even to the point of helping brainstorm and develop improvements of the implants themselves, the results only got better. Kathleen could give a woman implants that looked nearly indistinguishable from large natural breasts, with no visible scars. The size and shape, even the feel, they were all just perfect. Whatever size the customer wanted, from a smaller, sensible enhancement to some obscene, giant knockers, they all looked amazing. If someone didn't know about the enhancements, they wouldn't be able to tell the difference between the fakes she provided and the real deal.
Women traveled the world to have the honor of being in her talented hands. The fee was pretty sizable, but the results were just too good for anyone to hesitate. With her advanced methods, state-of-the-art technology, and her natural talents, she could take any woman from being flat-chested to large-busted. Admittedly, a sizable portion of her clientele were strippers and porn stars. And despite the nature of these clients, she still received glowing thank you cards and flowers to this day. They spread the word to their friends and coworkers, sending more clients her way, and this only continued as she enhanced more pairs of breasts. Her patients' enhanced boobs were practically billboards for her clinic, and everyone was checking out the advertising. She had become the go-to girl of the porno world to get premium fakes. Her enhancements were instantly recognizable, to the point where people who were hardcore fans of porn and porn stars knew Kathleen's name, joking that she was truly doing God's work with her chosen profession, put on this planet to pump up other women's bust sizes to ridiculous proportions. Her work was so obviously superior compared to the cheap, shoddy bolt-ons that some women had, to the point that some of them felt that upgrading to some of Kathleen's work was an absolute necessity to stay competitive. The waiting list for Kathleen's services was long, and the price was steep, but they all knew it was worth it. The investment was worth the cost, because it was almost impossible for a pair of breasts enhanced by Dr. Schaeffer to not generate heaping amounts of income in one way or another. They were literally moneymakers.
It wasn't just those in the sex fields to go under her talented knife. She also dealt with young actresses, aging housewives and young professionals looking to stand out. There were women of all sorts coming to her for help.
There was even one time that, without Kathleen's knowledge, another female plastic surgeon came in and got some massive fake breasts, only to open up a rival practice, showing off her newly jutting chest and deep cleavage as a selling point. Kathleen was miffed that this woman was using her work to scoop some of her business, making money off her work, but she understood that nearly all the women she dealt with were using her talents to fill their own bank accounts in one way or another. And besides, the money she was losing was just a drop in the bucket. The rival doctor's work could not compare to Kathleen's, and that fact became clear to anyone with half a brain.
Like any profession, really, she had to take the good with the bad. It was easy to become jaded when dealing with the type of women who got implants for mercenary reasons, for the lucrative benefits big breasts allow you. But for the women who had crippling body issues or had experienced some sort sickness or trauma, seeing their smiles of joy post-surgery more than made up for it.
Working in a field obsessed with huge breasts was kind of ironic considering it touched on one of Kathleen's biggest insecurities. Kathleen had very, very small breasts, and it was a bit of a sore subject for her. In her past, it sometimes felt like what was the deciding factor on which women got the best guys was who could fill out a bra best. While Kathleen had matured and moved beyond such immature thinking, it still was a bit of a sore spot.
She wasn't personally above getting a pair of fake breasts, nothing obscene, mind you. Something sensible. But for someone like her, who demanded the best, this presented a problem, as unfortunately, that person was her. If she could operate on herself, she would. But she wouldn't dare put herself under the knife for a butcher like her rival. She didn't want a pair of sloppy bolt-ons, and being unable to find anyone to do the job as good as her, she lived on with a flat chest.
She compared it to the old parable about the two barbers. A man walks into town and sees two barbers, one with perfectly cut, styled hair, the other with wild, frizzy hair. Which one does he go to? The answer is the barber with the frizzy hair, since there are only two barbers, they have to cut each other's hair, meaning the frizzy haired barber was responsible for the other one's perfectly cut hair.
