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."

**************************

