The Itty Bitty Titty Committee

"Yes."

"Good. Now, let's begin today's treatment."

"Let's."

She lay down on the treatment table and the doctor dimmed the lights to help her relax. In short time, he was back with the cool, moist sponge that rubbed in the precious chemicals that were changing her body, and, by extension, her life. She closed her eyes.

"Now, would you please undo your blouse, Melody?"

Her hands did as they were told. Dr. Eisenstadt smiled. Each time, getting her to do as he wanted was getting easier and easier.

"Now, Melody. I am going to rub the genetic material directly on your nipples today. This will be the first time I'll have done that, so I'm letting you know it's happening."

All women, he thought, begin to show signs of sexual arousal in their nipples on the third day, in anticipation of the sponge. Melody was no exception. The very act of telling her what he was about to do made her seem more aroused. With a smooth movement, slow and casual, he brought the sponge over the edge of the areola on her right breast and she shuddered. In small, tightening circles, he covered her right nipple. She let out a low moan. He moved over to her left breast. His movements were greeted by a louder vocalization.

"How do you feel, Melody?"

"Gooood."

"Very good, Melody." He positioned the sponge at the base of her sternum and started to whisper. "When you wake up tomorrow, your body will begin secreting pheromones. These pheromones can be picked up by anyone whose sexual preference is women, even if those people aren't necessarily interested in you. If you're close enough to them, you can get them to do anything you want them to do."

"...anything I want them to do."

"You won't be consciously aware of it, though. Beginning tomorrow, you're going to find yourself very sexually aroused. You will want to find someone to have sex with. When you find him, you'll move closer and that's where your pheromones will kick in. The fact that you want him, will mean that he'll want you. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"If you meet a Dr. Barton from the Itty Bitty Titty Committee, you will want to seduce him after your next gene therapy session."

"I will want to seduce Dr. Barton."

"Now, of course, there's one more thing. If I want you to do something, you'll do it. If I want you to get someone to do something, you'll be able to do it without any difficulty. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Good. Right now, I just want you to seduce someone, so that your subconscious mind will learn how to work with your new pheromones."

"I will seduce someone."

"Very good, Melody. Now I'm going to count to three and you will drift into a deep, satisfying sleep. One... Two ... Three."

The doctor stood up. Looking down at Melody, he knew that she was exactly what he and his fellow genetic therapists needed to stay in business. It was just a matter of patience.

Chapter 5

Melody woke up the following morning with a start.

Her heart pounding, she stood up and looked at herself in the mirror. She smiled as she gazed at her reflection, eyes dropping down to her nipples, which were quite visible through the thin cotton fabric of her nightshirt.

She lifted the bottom of her shirt and confirmed what she knew from the moment she woke up: her panties were soaked.

Sighing, she rolled her panties down to her ankles and stepped out of them. Standing upright again, she looked down between her legs and asked, "You going to soak whatever I put on down there?"

She laughed at the thought of asking a question of her own vagina. She let out a gasp as she felt a slight vibration between her legs.

That was .. interesting timing, she thought. Is my pussy responding to my question?

She squinted her eyes as she ran her hand up and down her thigh. She almost brought her hand between her legs when she thought better of it. She felt a second vibration and, before she could register what had happened, she had fallen back and was now sitting on her bed.

After biting her lip and a little bit more hesitation, she finally said, again aloud, "Oh, fuck it."

The tips of her fingers landed directly on her clit and she grasped it between her thumb and forefinger before she started to move it around slightly, allowing the bone behind her clit to act as both the support and focus of her motions. It didn't take long before the moisture that had permeated the fabric of her underwear, was oozing slowly onto the tips of her other three fingers.

She leaned back and closed her eyes. As her hand was exploring the subtle folds of skin between her legs, she imagined Dr. Eisenstadt rubbing a cold, moist sponge between her legs. As this image flashed in her head, she lifted her head and looked down between her legs.

"You're... you're jealous, aren't you? You want to be my tits, don't you, you pussy?"

Melody could have sworn she heard a disembodied voice whisper, "Yes" as her body succumbed to a miniature orgasm. Both happened just as her middle finger had found its way inside of her.

Now that her hand was covered in her own juices, she decided to rub those juices into her firm, aroused breasts. As she traced circles around her nipples, she started to feel slightly dizzy. She arched her back as her hands explored her body in a way that she had never truly explored herself.

When her head cleared out, she found a hand mirror by the side of the bed and held it between her legs. Craning her neck, she looked directly into her vagina for the first time in her life. She mused out loud with a chuckle, "I see why some people call it a 'vertical smile.'"

She felt that now-familiar vibration between her legs in response to her musings. There was no question that her pussy was trying to tell her something; all she needed to do was focus and maybe she'd understand.

She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and relaxed her arms. As the muscles between her legs started to contract an image popped into her head. It was a man, a faceless man. He caressed and fondled her, running his hands along every inch of her body. She felt her pussy moisten itself as her legs opened involuntarily. She was reminded of her favorite lover, from whom she had long since moved on. With a gasp, she felt a thunderous orgasm that caused her hands to seek out her body again. She squinted her eyes and then fell silent as the orgasm subsided.

She sat up, looked at her reflection in the mirror and said, "I get it! I can have any man I want, and my pussy will help me decide." She felt one final vibration before all feelings fell silent. It was time to take a shower and embrace a new day. Her genetic breast augmentation treatment was halfway over and things never looked or felt as promising as they did at this point.

She let out a deep sigh as she stepped into the steam-filled shower stall to cleanse her body, shave her legs, and greet the day. Yes, more women should have this treatment, not fewer. That much was a given.

Chapter 6

When he returned to the office from lunch, Dr. Eisenstadt noticed a man, in his mid-thirties, wearing a suit, sitting in his waiting room. He smiled. "You must be Dr. Barton."

"You can call me Kevin. Is now a good time to conduct the interview, Dr. Eisenstadt?"

"Please, call me Jason." He glanced at his watch. "I guess now's as good a time as any. We may have to take a break when my next patient comes in. Won't you come back with me to my office?"

"Thank you."

As the two men reached the office, Dr. Eisenstadt took out a coffee mug and poured himself a cup of coffee. "Would you like a cup, Kevin?"

"No, thank you. Caffeine makes me jittery. I appreciate the offer, though."

"Fair enough, Jason. So, what can I do for you today?"

"Before we begin, do you mind if I record this conversation?"

"I'd be surprised if you didn't want to."

"Very well." He opened his comlink processor and tapped a few points on the screen. A series of beeps confirmed that the recording had begun. A smooth-sounding female voice spoke, "Today is Monday, June 12, 2152. Please state the names of the attendees."

Dr. Barton spoke. "Dr. Kevin Barton, interviewing Dr. Jason Eisenstadt, one of the physiologists who discovered the process that enabled the current boom in genetic breast augmentation."

The female voice confirmed, "Please proceed with the interview."

"Thank you."

Dr. Eisenstadt spoke first. "So, if you don't mind my asking, what are your responsibilities as a part of the, um, Itty Bitty Titty Committee?"

Dr. Barton scowled. "It's known as The Non-Augmented Mammaries Committee; please show some respect."

"Sorry! I couldn't recall the proper name of the committee."

"That's all right. I'm looking into the current state of the genetic procedures. How you arrived there, any future plans, etc."

"I see. Well, about twenty years or so ago, I was a part of a team that was experimenting with muscle development as a subset of genetic therapy. We were making some progress with it, but found that some muscles were more easily grown and strengthened than others. A colleague of mine, who observed the pattern of which muscles seemed most responsive to the therapy, postulated that it would work to help enlarge women's breasts."

"That's interesting. Then what happened?"

"Well, because of the nature of the testing that was necessary, we had to use apes, monkeys, and other primates to test it on. We tested about 100 animals and saw a universal truth: the enhanced females became better-endowed and were more attractive to potential mates, than the control group of females that wasn't enhanced."

"Across the board?"

"No exceptions."

Doctor Barton squinted and paused before continuing the interview. "How long have you been conducting this therapy?"

"As long as it's been legal."

"Do you perform any post-therapy monitoring of your patients?"

"Absolutely. We have not observed any adverse health effects on our patients, and this is without regard to age or duration of time following the therapy."

"But you're only limited to a 20-year window since your first patients, true?"

"Yes, but our oldest patient is now in her late 60's. You wouldn't know by looking at her, though."

"Have any of your patients had children since the therapy?"

"Yes, quite a few of them, actually. Those patients who wished to nurse their children have reported no problems with lactation or getting the child to latch. We've had a small number of patients who had children both before and after the therapy. I've heard no reports of issues with the post-therapy children."

"Have any of the post-therapy children entered puberty?"

"Yes. And again, no problems have been reported."

"Interesting. Out of curiosity, do you poll your patients over their reasons for seeking out the therapy in the first place?"

"I ask, but they're not under any obligation to answer me. I could look up specific response rates, but there's no question that the three most common reasons for requesting it are, um, self-confidence, a desire to please their partners, and peer pressure."

"Peer pressure?"

"Yes, peer pressure. Not necessarily direct pressure, mind you. I'm including jealousy of a friend or sister to be a form of peer pressure."

"That makes sense."

"Do you get requests for breast reduction, too?"

"Yes, but not many. Prior to genetic breast modification, the average woman's breasts were smaller than they were fifty to a hundred years previously. I don't have any concrete evidence to support this, but I suspect it ties in with genetic means of fighting obesity. At any rate, I thought we could perform breast reduction somewhat easily, but we found that it's easier to expand the size of the areola than it is to contract it. If the breasts are reduced in size too much, the areola becomes disproportionately large and it makes for a certain degree of discomfort."

"May I see some of your patient records?"

"Not without a subpoena. There are privacy concerns to be addressed here. Now if you wish to interview one of my current patients, I would simply ask that you wait in our waiting room. They're under no obligation to grant you any access, but I see no harm in asking."

"Thank you. I'll wait in your waiting room. Do you know when your next patient will arrive?"

"Relatively soon."

"Thank you. This has been quite enlightening."

Dr. Barton returned to the waiting room and started looking over the notes that he had taken in the interview.

After a short while, Melody strode into the office and smiled at the man sitting next to the window. The receptionist recognized her as she sat down a few seats away from Dr. Barton.

He looked up and smiled back at her.

"Is your wife getting her breasts enlarged?" Melody asked.

"Um, no. No. I'm with the Non-Augmented Mammaries Committee --"

"The Itty Bitty Titty Committee!" Melody giggled.

Dr. Barton rolled his eyes. "We prefer NAMC, thank you."

"Sorry."

"That's all right. Are you having your breasts augmented here?"

"Well, yes. And I'm really glad I came in here."

"Really? Why is that?"

"I'm halfway through the therapy and I'm already starting to feel much better."

"What do you mean by 'better'?"

"Well, my tits have gotten firmer, stronger. And, believe it or not, more comfortable. Wanna feel them?"

"Um, no, thank you. I, uh, appreciate the offer."

"Your loss."

Melody picked up a magazine from the table and started to thumb through it.

Dr. Barton looked up at her. "Do you mind if I ask, it's my understanding that the therapy session takes place over the course of six sessions on alternating days. Which session is this for you?"

"My fourth session."

"Would you mind if I came back and observed this session?"

Melody cocked her head to one side. After a moment's pause, she said, "Sure, I guess..."

"What can you tell me about your sessions thus far?"

"Well, Dr. Eisenstadt, you see, he comes out with this sponge, a wet sponge that's covered with the gene therapy treatment and he rubs it over my skin. It's kind of cold and it tingles, but I can feel the energy of the sponge and it ... how do I explain this? It kind of drains my energy and I fall asleep. Quickly."

"Do you know how long you're asleep for?"

"About, oh, I guess fifteen minutes? Maybe a half hour? Honestly, I'm not sure."

"You said he rubs the sponge over your skin."

"Yes. Each time, he covers more of my skin."

"Do you feel self-conscious about what he does?"

"Well, I, um, not really. I thought I'd be more self-conscious than I actually am."

"Interesting....."

Melody looked down at the magazine she had picked up. After a few minutes of silence in the waiting room, Dr. Eisenstadt stepped into the room. "Are you ready, Melody?"

"Absolutely!" She jumped up from her chair and started towards the door.

Dr. Barton cleared his throat. Melody turned back to see him sitting there. She smiled and looked back and forth between the two doctors in the waiting room. "Oh, Dr. Eisenstadt! I'd almost forgotten! The guy over there's from the Itty Bitty Titty Committee. I told him he could observe my therapy --"

Dr. Eisenstadt interrupted her. "Before we bring him back to observe the process, I want you to be aware that I'll be rubbing some of the genetic material over your vagina today. Do you want him to see that?"

Melody scratched her head for a minute but finally said, "Um... Oh, sure, why not? He's a doctor, right?"

"That's right."

She turned back to face Dr. Barton and winked at him before gesturing that he join them.

Dr. Barton grumbled under his breath at the fact that he can't get anyone to call his committee by its proper name but otherwise said nothing.

Chapter 7

Knowing that he wouldn't be able to implant any suggestions in Melody's subconscious while Dr. Barton was watching, Dr. Eisenstadt simply demonstrated the technique he needed to perform. Dr. Barton was taking copious notes about her overall body shape and structure, and the way she responded to the therapy. Just as Melody herself had predicted, she fell asleep quickly.

"Dr. Eisenstadt, she said that she falls asleep during the therapy. Is this normal?"

"Yes. I'm not sure 'sleep' is the right term for her condition right now, but it's an accurate description. Her body is processing the new genetic material that is being absorbed into her skin. She'll be out for about twenty minutes or so."

"Is that the normal amount of time?"

"Some patients are out for as short as ten minutes, others, closer to a half hour or forty five minutes. By the way, you don't need to whisper. I thought that at first, too, but then a colleague of mine dropped something on the floor and the clatter didn't wake the patient up, so I think we can use our normal voices."

"Even if we do, I'm not sure I'd feel right. I appreciate this. So do you have any sense of whether she can hear us?"

"While I can't be certain, I don't think she can. I've never gotten any signs from a patient that anything spoken while they were out, processed or registered, even on a subconscious level." Dr. Eisenstadt put the sponge away and covered Melody's unconscious body with a blanket.

Dr. Barton stood up to feel for her pulse. It felt normal and nothing else about her gave any sense that her body was in any sort of distress. He quickly recorded this data in his comlink processor.

"I couldn't help but notice that she's not wearing a brassiere. Is that --"

"After about the second or third therapy session, the patient's breasts will have started to grow in size, to the point that wearing their old bras would be quite uncomfortable. And since they're not yet at their final size, it's makes more sense to go without."

"I see. Did she stop wearing a bra on your suggestion, or did she decide that on her own?"

"She came in to the last appointment without a bra and I pointed out to her that she might want to wait to go shopping until after the final session."

"So how long after the final session will her breasts be at their new size?"

"When she wakes up the following morning."

"Really?"

"Really."

"And then she'll go back to wearing a bra?"

"If she so chooses. You may have noticed a firmness in her breasts. The therapy firms them up nicely. About half of my patients decide they no longer wish to wear bras, except as fashion accessories."

"Has this patient given you any sense of what she's going to want to do?"

"No, and I haven't asked. Besides, she really won't be able to make any decisions until three days from now, when they're, um, fully grown."

Dr. Barton started to input additional notes into his comlink.

"Would you excuse me for a few minutes? I have some files I need to review."

"Of course!"

Dr. Eisenstadt swept out of the room. Soon thereafter, Melody started to stir. Dr. Barton froze, unsure of whether he should get closer to her or to call for Dr. Eisenstadt.

She stretched, sat up, and smiled. "Oh, I see you're still here. Do you know where Dr. Eisenstadt is?

"He stepped away for a minute. He should be back soon."

"Good. I wanted to ask him about -- oh!"

"What? What's wrong?"

Melody laughed. "Oh, nothing's wrong. I'm actually feeling -- aaah! Feeling really good right now..." She wasn't sure if she should say anything about the vibrations she had felt the day before, and which were now back, even stronger. She took a deep breath and stood up. The blanket that was covering her body fell to the floor. She slid her arms out of her unbuttoned blouse's sleeves. It cascaded gently on top of the blanket.

"Um, miss, what are --"

"Oh, nothing. Just ... just ... oooooh, yes!"

"Miss, I, um... Do you need me to call for Dr. Eisenstadt?"

She moved close to Dr. Barton and sighed. "That ... won't be necessary, Doctor. I think I need you to ... examine something... right... here." She grabbed his hand and guided it over one of her breasts.