The Professor Day 06: Beauty

The Professor

Recap: Molly has approached her former professor on whom she has a deep crush. They exchange stories to explore their fantasies and philosophies as he attempts to rein in her emotions.

Wednesday, Day 6 Beauty

"So what do you have to say about beauty tonight?" Professor asked.

"After what you said last night, I thought I would just sit here so you could look at me," I teased.

"I can think of a lot worse. But I would like to hear your thoughts on it."

"Aside from the obvious? Here goes. But perhaps this is the obvious."

Plastic Surgeon

The doctor called Tessa into his office. "Tessa, you know I have been trying to sell this practice. Yesterday I found a buyer. I wanted to tell you as soon as I could."

"What will that mean for me?" Tessa had been his receptionist and assistant for 10 years now. Once Dr. Morgan had announced he was taking early retirement, she had been fearing for her job.

"I will give you the best of recommendations, but I don't know what my successor will do. In fact, the practice was purchased by a provider, not an individual, so it will be a corporation decision. For what it's worth, they would be fools not to keep you on. My clients know you and trust you. However, I must advise you to look out for yourself and explore other options."

"When do you turn it over?"

"At the end of the month. That gives you a couple of weeks."

Dr. Morgan was the most successful plastic surgeon in Seattle and had made a fortune from the vanity of women and men. He was choosing to capitalize on his investments and live a pressure-free life in the mountains of California, where he had recently built a house.

As Dr. Morgan left the office that evening, he found Tessa staring at the computer screen. There were tears in her eyes. "Tessa, think of this as an opportunity for you. You are still young -- late thirties? -- and . . ."

"Thirty-two."

"I'm sorry, and you still have your career ahead of you. You have experience and a good performance record. You shouldn't have any trouble finding a better position."

"You're right. I just have to adjust." She forced a happier face for him until he went out the door. The problem was, she had little to her life right now. She felt ugly. She was born with jowls that made her face look 40 years old, thin lips and a large nose. She was overweight and flat-chested. She hadn't had a date since school and no close friends. The only thing in her life that she enjoyed and was proud of was her job. Now that was over.

As the deadline drew near, all Tessa had managed to line up were some interviews. She knew she was in denial and that was keeping her from serious job-hunting. She tried to keep up appearances, but Dr. Morgan could see her melancholy. He approached her one evening.

"Tessa, I would like to give you a parting gift in recognition for all you have done. We've spoken in the past about a face-lift for you. I would be happy to do it for you for free before I retire. You would only have to pay the hospital and anesthesiologist charges." The truth was, he had spoken about it, she hadn't. She knew he felt her appearance was not the best advertisement for his practice. She had never seriously considered it before now.

"Thank you. I'll think about it." She also knew very well what those charges amounted to because she had billed hundreds of clients for them. She considered her savings, depleted by her mother's losing battle with cancer and knew the operation was beyond her reach. It was a nice gesture and she thought that was all it was. She was most surprised when he brought the subject up the next morning.

"Have you thought about my offer?"

"Thank you. I appreciate it but it's still beyond my means."

"I was afraid that was the case. Here is another possibility. After I close here I am forbidden by our contract to practice any more in the state of Washington. I don't have a license anywhere else because I intend to retire. However, I think my new house is adequate for a small operation if you would let me work on you by myself. You could recuperate there as well. The only thing is, this is strictly illegal. If anyone found out, I could be put in jail and lose my assets."

"Is that really possible?"

"It is. We would have to trust one another. Think about it, but don't breathe a word."

"Thank you, I will." Tessa was slowly getting used to the idea of starting a new life wherever she might find a job. Starting with a more attractive face was an exciting possibility.

When Dr. Morgan brought up the idea for the third time, Tessa said she was interested. She knew the routine, having prepped her customers for a decade. She set up a series of cameras and posed in front of them while he recorded her profile from all directions. The images were fed into a computer, which constructed a 3-D image of her. Then she sat by the doctor as he manipulated the picture. He cropped out her body (thank goodness) and zoomed in on the face.

"I could tuck up the skin over your zygomatic like this" -- he entered a few figures on the program -- "and you could look like this." Her image changed before her eyes and she suddenly became quite attractive.

"It's amazing what a difference a little bit of skin and fat can make," she said.

"I could also touch up your nose, take out some cartilage . . ." He worked some more computer magic. Her nose shrank. "And maybe a bit of liposuction."

"No. Stop there. Just my cheeks."

"You know, Tessa, you have a beautiful bone structure, fine teeth and wonderful hair. I know from twenty-two years of experience what can be done with that. Your skin is still young and will heal quickly. It is still elastic so there is no question of using botox. Seriously, it would be a pleasure to work with it and see what we could do."

"This is a lot to take in. Let me think about it."

"Of course."

Tessa went home that night excited with the possibilities. However, she had a strange dream that frightened her. She came out of surgery eager to see her new face in the mirror. When Dr. Morgan held it up to her she had no face. There was only blank skin where her eyes and mouth should be. She awoke with her heart pounding and found it difficult to erase that image from her mind. Tessa decided to let Dr. Morgan work with her cheeks only.

By the end of the month, Tessa was buoyed with enough optimism that she decided to move to Southern California and find a job there. She cancelled her lease, sold most of her furniture, and packed what she had left into her car. With her severance pay, she felt she had just enough cash and savings to start over. Then she headed out to find Dr. Morgan's new home.

It took a while to track down his new address. He had built in the woods far enough into the mountains there was no phone reception. There would be no neighbors to disturb them, so she would be able to recover completely and be on her way with no one the wiser. She knew from experience that such surgeries took only a few days to heal completely, perhaps a week at most, and then another week or two to get past the discoloration.

Dr. Morgan encouraged her to have the operation the next day. He was assuming the risk, so she assented readily. He helped her unload the car to find what she would need during her stay and then reload what she would not be using. The house was large and modern with several extra bedrooms. He showed her to a guest/recovery room.

She settled down for the night but sleep did not come easily. She was nervous about the operation and whether she was making the right choice. She had a nightmare that she was lying on the operating table as the doctor was about to start the incisions. She was fully awake but couldn't move ore make a sound. The scalpel came lower and lower. At the last second, she awoke with her heart pounding. She calmed down reassuring herself that this was a routine procedure. Still, she did not get back to sleep that night.

Tessa came to feeling extremely groggy. She felt pain throughout her body and couldn't make sense of it. She remembered lying in an operating chair while he turned the dial on the anesthesia, then nothing. She tried to open her eyes, but couldn't. She couldn't do more than wiggle her fingers. A voice came from nowhere. "How are you feeling." She heard herself moan. "I'll give you some more morphine. You will feel better."

The next time she awoke her mind began to clear. She couldn't see. There must be a bandage over my eyes. She tried to raise her hand to see, but something seemed to be holding it down. She strained and felt a pain in her chest and gave up.

A while later she heard the doctor's voice again. "Don't try to move. I put your wrist in restraints so you wouldn't pull the bandages off or the IV out. Since I don't have a nurse to watch you, I am taking more precautions."

"Whazzi look like?" Her words came out slurred.

"You are very colorful right now, but it went perfectly. You will really like the new you."

"Ood."

"More painkiller?"

"esss."

"OK. But after this I want to switch you to something that is not addictive."

The next time she was awake, the light was very dim. She felt bandages, perhaps a mask on her face, but her eyes were not covered. She tried to sit up, but there were still burning sensations in her breasts and elsewhere. Something seemed to be constricting her waist and she couldn't take a deep breath. Her eyes were still covered. Her feet hurt. That didn't make any sense, but it was too hard to think about.

After a while the doctor came to look in on her. "How are you feeling now? The pain should be less. The incisions are healing nicely."

"How long have I been out?"

"I was liberal with the use of painkiller. It's been three days. I've been changing the bandages every day and there are no problems at all. In fact, I would like to look at them now." With tenderness and patience, he pulled back the tape holding gauze over her face. She squinted at the unaccustomed light. He felt her skin gingerly. "Does that hurt?"

"I can feel it. Not too bad."

"Good. I'm going to leave these off now. There will be no scarring at all." He applied an ointment on her cheeks and nose to reduce any appearance of scarring.. "I am going to put a mask on so you are not tempted to disturb the sutures.

"Can I see?"

"You know it's too soon." It was one of Dr. Morgan's practices not to let his clients see his handiwork until the healing was nearly complete. He wanted their first look to be an entirely positive experience.

"Can I sit up?" She struggled and felt the pain again. Dr. Morgan worked the bed controls to bring her to a semi-upright position.

"Do you want some solid food?"

"Yes, please."

"OK. We are going to take it easy in case there in any drugs left in your system. It would not do to have you vomiting right now. I have to be extra cautious because we don't have a nurse with us."

She lay back and rested until he returned with food on a bed tray. She tried to reach for a spoon, but found her hands still restrained. "Just until the IV comes out. Tomorrow." He spoon-fed her. He left her watching the television until she dozed off.

The next morning, she felt wide awake and ready to get up. He removed the IV, apologizing for the bruising on her arms. She had difficulty bending at the waist and her ankles were in braces. He explained that he had put a surgical corset on her to support and shape her while she was recovering. He had also found that her Achilles tendons were stretched, making it less efficient to walk. These should make you feel like you have more energy.

He helped her to stand. The braces kept her ankle extended like she was wearing extreme heels. He supported her as she walked about the room, but he did not let her do more than that. There were no mirrors. In the evening he helped her to walk again. This time he put high heels on her feet to compensate for the braces.

The next day she got up on her own. Walking gingerly in the braces, she went to the door and peered out. The doctor was not in sight. She hobbled to the next room -- his study. He was not in there. Now she needed to sit down and rest. She sat in a chair next to a beautifully crafted redwood desk. There was a computer open on his desk. and she woke it up out of curiosity. The screen was one of his patient models, showing the whole body. Various markings and notes outlined a planned reshaping. She noted an array of liposuction targets, breast enhancement, ankle toning, and waist constriction. The works deluxe. She enlarged the window of the face and looked at his procedures. Lift, nose reshaping, lip injections. They had never had a patient with such a comprehensive job. When money is no object. . . Something about the face looked familiar. She leaned back for a different perspective, but she couldn't place it. It was one of the most beautiful faces she had ever seen with perfect proportions. Surely she would have remembered a patient that beautiful.

"Oh, you're up. You must be feeling good. Maybe it's time to get you dressed."

"I'd like that."

"I got you a new outfit for the occasion."

"Really? That wasn't necessary,"

He took her arm and helped her back to the recovery room. Seating her on the edge of the bed, he said, "Take it easy, let me do this right." He washed her face and brushed her hair and then applied some make up to disguise the bruising. He removed her foot braces and put the heels on her feet. Unfastening her hospital gown, he let it drop away.

Then he slowly unlaced the corset and removed it. Tessa struggled to hold her arms out of the way. "One moment. Don't move." He unfolded a simply cut sleeveless blue dress with a short skirt and dropped it over her head, helping her fit her arms into the correct openings. Finally he wrapped a smaller waist cincher and laced it tightly.

"Stand up." He supported her while she stood. The shoes had high narrow heels and her ankles wobbled a bit. "You will get used to them. Let's take a look at you. Oh, yes. Ready for the mirror?" He let her take his arm as he escorted her to a bedroom across the hall to a full-length mirror.

Tessa stared at the reflection. Who is that person? Only her body movements told her she was looking at herself. The figure was more slender with larger breasts. He legs looked elegant in heels she had never been able to wear before. The waist was astoundingly narrow. She had never dreamed of such as body before.

But the face was the real shock. She was looking at a beautiful stranger, a person she had never met before; but the face was familiar. She had looked at in only moments before on the computer. It dawned on her that Dr. Morgan had given her body a total makeover.

Molly lowered her paper. "That is as much as I have written. I can think of two endings. Tell me which one you prefer. Ending 1: Tessa is thrilled. She throws her arms about the doctor to thank him. He has created the perfect woman and falls in love with her. Like Liza Doolittle. Or Galatea. They marry and live happily ever after until he dies of a heart attack and she inherits his fortune."

"And the second?"

"Ending 2: She is outraged that he would take such liberty on her body. She wants to get in her car and drive away then and there. She rushes out to the driveway, only to discover the real limitations of her shoes and prolonged bed time. She is exhausted before she reaches the car. Dr. Morgan can't bear to let her go so he brings her back in the house and locks her in a special room. He calls her his creation and makes her his slave so he can gaze upon her whenever he wants."

"Wow. I'm not sure I like either one."

"I've sort of written myself into a corner. How could she love someone that arrogant? But I'm not very satisfied with the sad ending. This was inspired by a bad movie I saw a long time ago. There was a mad scientist who had a shrinking ray. He used it to turn beautiful women into dolls and keep them in dollhouses for his amusement. It was kind of titillating."

"So what are you saying about beauty?"

"It can make good things happen or it can make a prisoner of you."

"That's actually profound. The problem is that that kind of beauty is superficial and fleeting, if not artificial. What will happen when Tessa ages? In either version, the doctor does not love her for herself, but only for her looks. Or perhaps he is only in love with his own genius."

"So what do you have to say about beauty?" Molly asked.

"Superficial beauty in a fleeting property of the young, which you happen to have in abundance. But there is also beauty of the spirit. As a relationship ages, the first becomes less important and the second more important, as though beauty has migrated from the surface to the inside."

"That's a nice image. Is that what your story is about?"

"Not at all. Like you, I wrote about the empty vanity of superficial beauty. I was pretty busy today and it isn't very long. By the way, you stole my theme."

"Plastic surgery?"

"No, just plastic."

Wrap

Altan had moved to Seattle and has settled in with Watchman -- Tom.

"Are they married now?" Molly interrupted.

"Yes. No. It doesn't matter."

"Sorry."

She had been very proud of losing weight the previous summer and now is struggling to keep it off. She mentions it nearly every time they sit down to eat. Tom finds it irritating and keeps reassuring her he loves her the way she is. But some women can't accept reassurances.

On a warm spring day over breakfast, Altan tells him, "Jennie told me about his fabulous new weight loss clinic. Are you listening?"

Tom lowered the paper. "What, Honey?"

"There is a new weight loss clinic on Tacoma Avenue with guaranteed results every session. It's called Wrappings."

"Nothing can promise a weight loss in just an hour unless you just sweat."

"What they do is wrap you tightly in plastic and compress your fat. I think it just oozes out of your body and it washes away."

"That doesn't make any sense."

"They measure you before and after and if you don't lose something, you get your money back. I have an appointment for this afternoon."

Tom was about to point out how stupid the idea was, but he didn't want an argument. However, the image stuck in his mind. When she left the house, he made a phone call.

At 4:00 Altan arrived at Wrappings for her appointment. One of the attendants greeted her at the door. "Good afternoon. My name is Tonya. How may I help you?"

"I have an appointment."

"Very good. Have you been here before?"

"No, but I've heard about you from a friend."

"Please come over to the desk and I will tell you about our process and discuss your options with you." She described targeted loss focusing just on the waist or thighs or the entire lower body. "It's quite simple. We measure before the treatment. Then we wrap the parts of the body you choose. You can lie down in complete privacy and listen to soothing music - or nap if you prefer. After an hour we measure you again. If you have not reduced by at least a quarter of an inch on thighs or a half inch on the waist, your session is free."

Altan selected the waist and hip wrap. "What is your name?"

"Altan. Altan Bower." She noticed an older woman in the back turn her head and look at her. The girl suggested she go to the restroom first, then meet her in booth number 2. When Altan emerged, the older woman introduced herself. "I am Julia, the manager. We have a special offer for you. Since you are a first time customer and our 100th customer, you can upgrade to a full body wrap at no extra charge."

Altan hesitated.

"You will love it, I promise."

"OK."

"Follow me to a special booth in the back. It's more private." Julia led her through the office to a small room and closed the door. "You will need to remove all of your clothes. Underwear will leave panty marks in your skin and you wouldn't want that." Altan did as directed, carefully folding her clothes and placing them in a cubby. She soon stood naked in the center of the room. Julia handed her some hairpins and a swimming cap. "Please put this on and tuck all of your hair inside." It was fairly tight fit, but Altan was able to do as she said.