Amber's New Vitamins

I

How she ended up with two lesbian neighbors, Amber couldn't begin to guess. Two apartments faced two apartments across a cement walkway painted pastel pink. Her apartment was on the second floor of a three story complex, and the walkway was covered.

Usually she could get through the walkway and go down the stairs without bumping into her dyke neighbors, but that afternoon her luck didn't hold.

Oh, she didn't hate them.

That's too harsh.

She just.

You know, she just.

And anyway, not around her, you know? Somewhere else, yeah, fine. But not around her.

But Sally leapt from the top step right into the walkway, her neighbor one door down, a cute enough girl in her own way, friendly and bright, cheerful. Just, well, a tomboy, a queer girl. Short blonde pixie cut, usually covered by a red or black ball cap, faded jeans and black boots or heavy shoes. The inevitable black tee shirt, usually with something rude scrawled on it like, Cope With It, Bitch or Try Me, I'm a Dyke.

Thankfully, the girl was never rude herself.

"Hey Amber, what's up?"

"Um. You know. The usual, nothing."

Then she checked the door, made sure she locked it, and scampered off. No sense it getting to know her. No sense in leading her on.

Not that she didn't love her apartment.

Her neighbors were never loud, everything was kept clean and tidy, no bottles, beer cans, cigarette butts, or food trash left out in the open. Management kept up the gym room, and the pool area was covered against too much or too little sun.

Yeah, sure.

It cost her an arm and a leg, and she'd been worried about income ever since her dad's last warning about a job.

"I'm a student, Dad. I shouldn't have to work."

"You can work part time. Surely your college has student workers?"

Amber's stomach sank at that. The very idea.

But she was able to buy some time, proclaiming vociferously and vehemently that studies just filled up all her time.

"I have to keep my grades up, Dad. And I'm just slammed this year. Eighteen hours."

A minor fib.

She carried fifteen. A lot of course work, not undoable, but she couldn't possibly find time to work in all that studying.

Partying and clubbing, sure.

But work?

Um. No.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, she turned right and walked past the community bulletin board set inside a partially enclosed kiosk. Out of curiosity she browsed the offerings until her eyes met a call for participants in a new vitamin program offered by Essenza-Craft.

It seemed they paid a couple of hundred bucks a week for a 6-week vitamin intake study. Details were a little vague, a little sketchy, but it couldn't hurt to look them up, could it? Essenza-Craft?

She wasn't familiar with the name, but she pulled a tab containing a phone number off the poster. She'd look the group up later.

Two hundred bucks a week just for taking vitamins was nothing to look down on.

Free money was, after all, free.

II

They were out west, Essenza-Craft. From some place called Edge City. She thought maybe she'd heard of it, but geology wasn't really her thing. It was a small group, and its origins were a little vague. Apparently they were an offshoot of The Diana Group before they got swallowed up T.E.I. The Entertainment Industry.

She kept reading the website.

They had new leadership. The Entertainment Industry, or T.E.I or EI for short, had bought them out, and their new CEO, Iris Light, promised a new era of enlightened entertainment fueled by digital pharmacology, whatever that was.

She couldn't find out anything about the vitamin trials though. Calling the number she pulled off proved to be her only option.

So she called.

Talked, asked questions, listened, and made an appointment.

For the very next day.

III

Whatever misgivings Amber harbored were quickly allayed by the clean, modern architecture of the small pentagonal building set in the middle of its own parking lot. Trees grew throughout the paved space, providing plenty of shade, and well-trimmed hedges concealed the building from street view.

Everything green was trimmed and, well, green. Vibrant. Alive. Birds chirped loudly as Amber walked to the entrance, and squirrels darted right across her feet, secure in the harmlessness of humanity.

Amber opened one of the double glass doors framed in black enameled luminium

The welcome lobby was big, cleanly tiled, and tastefully decorated with original artwork evidently bought by a corporate purchaser who knew her business. But Amber didn't know anything about that. Nor did she really care or notice, which was the point.

Huge paintings of pink abstracts, all vaguely feminine, swirling with female forms and faces, peered down from the high walls of the lobby as Amber walked to the front desk to check-in for her appointment.

Four or five short rows of cushioned chairs were arrayed to Amber's right, facing the front desk. Three other girls were sitting down, filling out forms or checking messages on their phones. Amber wondered whether they were here for the same treatment, and whether she'd have to wait long.

The receptionist welcomed Amber with a huge, friendly grin, and her eyes twinkled with mirth and cheerfulness.

"Amber? Amber Gray? It's so nice to have you here. The other girls are checking in right now, but don't worry. We're right on time, and there's no wait. You won't be receiving the same treatment together. But Dr. Essenza can explain all that to you."

Amber smiled inwardly with relief.

She didn't want to be part of a group treatment, all that chitchat and getting to know people, women, you'd never see again. Exchanging numbers you'd never call, making plans you'd never keep. Amber hated all that.

Oh, not that she was reclusive. By no means, she could chat and shmooze with the best of them, but this morning, this morning saw her in no mood for any of that.

Pink.

And yellow.

Amber realized that the reception was done up almost entirely in pink and yellow, magenta lipstick, yellow stripes on a bright pink blouse, blond hair with even blonder highlights in a bob style with bangs cut straight above her eyebrows, a glittery yellow eyeshadow above her eyes lined with yellow and white flower shapes, and pink mascara. It really was kind of.

Well. It suited her well, the pink and yellow blouse, unbuttoned to show off a very impressive breast cupped by the pink lace of her brassier.

The receptionist licked her glossy lips with the pink tip of her tongue, nudging Amber from her reverie.

"So just have a seat and fill out this form. Don't worry. It's long. Just basic information that we'll keep totally private."

The receptionist winked at her, and Amber read her name tag.

Laci.

Amber avoided meeting Laci's eyes, recognizing the flirtation.

She sat down in the nearest seat.

She caught Laci staring at her from behind her monitor. Amber crossed her legs, regretting her decision to wear such a short skirt.

Amber sighed at the length of the questionnaire, wondering why she couldn't have just typed this all in beforehand. Surely this place had a secure website, a health portal for checking in? But no, no web portal, just a think paper pad on a clipboard, asking for the usual information. Name, address, email, phone. Gender. Marital status.

Blah, blah, blah.

Bloody type.

Tuberculosis history, vaccinations, allergies.

Blah, blah, blah.

Surgical history, gastroenterology history.

My god.

A bunch gynecological questions, medical history questions. Amber put the clipboard down and yawned. Did she really need the money this badly?

"Would you like something to drink?"

Laci's bright and pleasant voice startled Amber.

Amber looked up to see the receptionist holding up a small pink bottle.

"I forgot to offer you some, poor thing. Filling out all those questions is so boring. You need something yummy for all that work."

Amber cringed.

Why was Laci speaking to her like she was three years old?

Yummy?

What kind of grown woman says yummy?

One of the girls two rows behind her spoke up.

"You really should try some. It's so."

Amber turned to look at her, the girl who spoke.

She wore blue gym shorts, a tie-dye tee shirt, and she pulled her light brown hair in a very loose tail behind her head so that her hair loosely frame her round, heart-shaped face.

"Um. Okay. Thanks," Amber stammered.

She went back to her questionnaire, but Laci was already standing in front of her, pale yellow hose running up her curvy legs into a pink denim skirt. Amber immediately thought of a pink and yellow honey bee.

"Here," Laci said, almost giggling. "You won't believe how yummy it is."

Amber read the label, dark magenta letters on a bright neon pink background filled with pink bubbles.

Nū Pink.

"Thank you," Amber said, somewhat curtly. So? She didn't want to encourage the girl.

Laci padded off to her station, her round backside swaying right to left, left to right as she walked, her pale yellow hose swishing as her thighs touched.

Amber twisted the pink top, upturned the bottle for a timid taste, and swallowed.

Oh my.

It tasted so.

Yummy.

She heard Laci giggle behind her counter.

"See? I told you so!"

IV

She took several more sips before turning her attention back to the form.

Gender.

She read the options and didn't know how to respond.

• Agender

• Gender Non-conforming

• Intersex

• Transgender Man

• Cisgender (non-trans) Man

• Gender Variant

• Non-binary

• Transgender Woman

• Cisgender (non-trans) Woman

• Genderqueer

• Not Listed

Amber considered checking not listed, but Cisgender (non-trans) Woman seemed a safe choice. After that the form asked her to list her sexuality. Here again she ran into an unexpected difficulty.

• Aromantic

• Asexual

• Bisexual

• Demisexual

• Homosexual (male)

• Lesbian

• Pansexual

• Questioning

Amber re-read the list, looking for heterosexual or just straight, but it wasn't listed. There wasn't even an option for Other or Not Listed.

She checked the Questioning box as the best option.

Boy, she thought. This Nū Pink stuff is really good.

She lifted her head back and dipped the last of the liquid into her mouth.

Amber heard clapping.

"Oh, I just knew you'd love it," Laci blurted out. "Isn't it so yummy?"

Amber smiled shyly, her cheeks flushed, and she felt warm, a happy warmth rose from somewhere just above her center, in the pit of her belly, overspreading her body in a glowing and pleasant, or pleasurable, peaceful feeling.

"It is," she agreed. "It is yummy."

"Told you," said the girl two rows behind. Amber turned and smiled.

"You were right," she chirped, almost giddy. "So yummy."

V

One by one the names of the waiting girls were called.

Amber absent-mindedly watch each on depart in their turn.

They were all dressed casually in shorts or tight leggings, yoga pants showing off round curves and round hips, making Amber feel just a little self-conscious.

Was it just her own unhealthy sense of her own shortcomings, or were most girls really that must sexier than she was?

Some girls just looked good in anything, she supposed.

Finally, she heard her own name called.

"Amber Marsha Glynn?"

Amber looked up, surprised at the full use of her name, to see an older version of Laci the receptionist smiling in welcome at her, holding the door to the inner offices open.

A happy, blond woman in her mid-forties, she wore a longer version of Laci's hair, glimmering blond and wavy. She wore bright pink lipstick and smokey glittery eyeshadow on a heavily but fetchingly made up face. The purple scrubs covering her body showed off her prominent bosom and stretched across her round hips. She turned towards the receptionist, showing Amber a round ass, tightly encased by her scrub pants, an upside-down heart shaped moons outlined clearly by the way the scrubs clove into the crack of her ass.

"The last one for the morning, hon?" she asked the receptionist.

"The last one."

"Thanks, sweetie."

She turned back to Amber.

"You coming? Don't be shy. We're all just so super nice here. And we're all just so excited to have you with us. You're going to have so much fun, you'll see."

Amber wondered just what kind of vitamins she was going to try out, but she kept that question to herself.

As she neared the older woman, Amber read the name on her tag.

Cyndi.

It somehow seemed appropriate.

Cyndi's ass swayed back and forth in front Amber, and Amber, despite herself, couldn't help but follow the movement as she trailed behind, falling into a kind of dream walk as her as followed Cyndi's ass side to side, left to right, and right to left. Systole. Diastole.

A glass wall, slightly tinted, lined the hallway on Amber's right, but on her left stood white door after white door, closed. Behind the glass, Amber could see the three girls from the waiting room, riding exercise bikes or jogging on treadmills.

I have to exercise?

Amber's gut sank.

Finally, Cyndi brought the young woman to an open door, and inside Amber saw a tallish, voluptuous woman with dark skin and dark hair wearing a pink lab coat over very elegant, very stylish outfit. A dark blouse and dark skirt with dark hose running up her full thighs.

The woman looked older than Cyndi, and Amber saw gray streaks running through her dark hair. Wrinkled webs spread from her eyes, and her face hung slightly. If she had to guess, Amber would have said the woman was in her 60s, but she had something about her, a bounce, a verve, a certainty levity, that made her seem much, much younger.

"Dr. Essenza? She's here. Cute as a button, too."

Amber yelped and jumped backward as Cyndi pinched her side sharply, just above her hips.

"Cyndi, behave," Dr. Essenza scolded. She turned to Amber and smiled.

"You'll have to forgive her. I've tried. Lord knows I've tried to calm that exuberance. But you know how women like Cyndi are. Well, she's just like that but more so, if you get my meaning."

Amber was sure that she did not.

She rubbed her side and glared at Cyndi, who shrugged, pursed her pink lips in a kiss, and left the room.

It looked just like the usual doctor's office, with patient bed, counters filled with medical items, monitors, and panels with weird buttons.

Dr. Essenza had Amber sit on the bed while she took her blood pressure, listened to her heart, and asked routine questions about health.

"What we'll do is have you exercise for about fifteen or twenty minutes, get that heart of yours beating, take some more measurements, and then start your regimen of vitamins."

"Um. Okay."

Just then Cyndi came back carrying a small bundle of pink clothes, setting them down beside Amber.

"These are for you," she said, winking at the girl. "I just know you'll look super adorable in them."

"Cyndi!" Dr. Essenza barked, but the woman was already leaving the office.

"They're for working out," Dr. Essenza explained. "Go ahead and put them on."

"What? Here?"

Amber's protest came less forceful than she intended. It sounded doubtful, uncertain, and confused. Dr. Carla Essenza noticed the tone immediately.

"Yes, here," she answered.

Normally, Amber would have flat out refused such a request or even a command. Not that she could quite explain how somebody in Dr. Essenza' s position could command her to do anything. But still.

I mean, really.

I'd prefer not to.

All the same, she found herself pulling up her shirt, raising it over her head, and laying it on the bed behind her. Next, she stood up, unzipped her skirt from the side and let it drop to the floor. Then she placed the skirt next to the shirt.

Then she looked at Dr. Essenza, crossing her arms over her breasts, thankful she hadn't been asked -- told, rather -- to remove that and waited for further instructions.

"Your shoes, Amber," Dr. Essenza reminded her.

They were just tennis shoes.

"I can exercise in these," she protested.

"No. Cyndi brought you shoes and socks, too. They're ever so cute."

"But. But. How does she know my size?"

Dr. Essenza grinned.

"That's just Cyndi. She's absolutely adept at sizing a woman up."

VI

Cyndi liked clothes one size too small, Amber thought, tugging at the waist and leg holes of her nominal shorts. They were shiny metallic pink, made of Lycra, and they clung to her ass like a second skin. Well, they clung to that part of her ass that they actually covered. She ran her hand over her back. Half of her bottom hung below the tight leg holes, and she wondered how anybody could think these shorts were appropriate for anything.

But Cyndi liked them.

Apparently Dr. Essenza did, too.

The sleeveless crop top they gave her was made of the same material, metallic pink Lycra that pulled across her small boobs. Her nipples were hard, and they poked clearly through the thin fabric. She tried covering her top by folding her arms, but Cyndi wouldn't have it.

She pulled Ambers unresisting arms down, clapped her hands and shrieked with joy.

"Oh I knew it. I just knew. You look so cute in that outfit. All the girls will --"

"That's quite enough of that, Cyndi. Thank you for bringing Amber her workout outfit. You can go now."

But Cyndi didn't go.

Not until after Amber bent over to tie the laces of her pink cross trainers. The middle of her shorts slipped deep into her thigh gap, outlining the fat cleft of her vagina, and her slender round ass unfolded like a flower in bloom.

"So cute," Cyndi said. And slipped away before Dr. Essenza could scold her further.

VII

Dr. Essenza herself led Amber to the exercise room, where one other girl remained working out. She was the girl who sat behind Amber in the waiting room. The one who suggested she try Nū Pink.

"That's Gina," Dr. Essenza said. "And she has about ten minutes left of her workout. Why don't we work out behind her? You can ride the bike while she finishes up on the treadmill."

Again, Amber would have preferred not to. Or at least would have preferred to ride a few spaces further away, where plenty of bike stations stood. The workout room was empty, after all, and she hated having her space invaded. She just assumed everybody else did, too. She didn't want to bother the girl. Gina.

Gina.

That's a pretty name.

Dr. Essenza attached wires on nodes to Amber's chest, slipping her hand under the tight crop top to do so. Amber yelped, but the hand knew its business and quickly withdrew. Then the woman left a small bottle of Nū Pink on the bike in front of Amber.

"Remember to drink your Nū Pink. It really keeps the thirst away. You'll be surprised how much endurance it gives you, too. Besides," she said behind her as she walked away. "It's yummy."

Gina wore the same outfit as Amber's, metallic pink booty shorts with a matching metallic pink Lycra crop top. Gina had a larger body than Amber, and her Lycra shorts covered only the top third, if that, of her full, curvaceous bottom. Gina's waist curved inward before rising to her chest, forming a hourglass figure a model from the 1950s would envy.

Some girls have it all, Amber thought. She saw the bottle of Nū Pink, opened the pink plastic cap and tipped the bottle into her mouth, enjoying the pleasant warm feeling sliding down her throat, so redolent of strawberries and something Amber couldn't quite put her finger on, because she'd never tasted it before.

But she'd like to, whatever it was.

She'd really like to taste it.

So yummy.

Perspiration beaded along Gina's shoulders and down her back. Amber watched the sweat trickle from the moons of her ass down her strong thighs and calves.

So strong, Amber thought. She must be an athlete.

Amber looked up at the television screens to divert her attention from Gina.