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.



Only in her case, it was which surgeon do you choose to get breast implants; the one with microscopic tits, or the one with massive, round, perfectly jiggly boobs that bounced with every step, looked soft as silk to the touch and jutted out so proudly and firmly from her chest that you just wanted to dive in face first and live forever in their softness? That old parable still applied, but when boobs are involved, people don't always make the most logical decisions.



Kathleen had very high standards for her work. For example, with her last patient, Harper, the doctor wasn't satisfied with how they turned out. A lot of the issues were technical things that only Kathleen would notice. But the main issue with giving a woman like Harper such large breasts was that they just didn't look right to her. Harper was almost too fit to carry boobs that large, meaning that her breasts, despite their near perfect quality, just came across as fake. And Kathleen prided herself on making the implants she gave to women indistinguishable from natural breasts, despite their typically large size. Some women just seemed to be a natural fit for the types of implants she normally supplied, and while Harper's new breasts looked great, it just didn't seem like the best fit.



Her next patient was a different story.



Normally, this late in the day, the appointment slot that Harper was in would be the last one of the day, and Kathleen would spend the remainder of her time at work winding things down. But earlier in the day, one of her more recent patients, Maggie, had called in, explaining to the doctor why she had missed her appointment this morning due to car troubles. She went on to say she wouldn't be able to make it in any other time soon, so she asked if it would be possible to fit her in at the end of the day. Kathleen was normally very regimented and orderly, so she didn't like rearranging things. Usually, she would never make a new appointment like this on such short notice, unless it was an emergency. But Maggie had caught her on a good day, and she could empathize as her car was in the shop as well. So, feeling generous, she allowed her patient to come in at the end of the day.



"Hey doctor!" Maggie said, flouncing into the exam room, led in by one of the nurses.



"Hello, Maggie," Dr. Schaeffer said, smiling, shaking her hand. "You know the drill. Take off your shirt and take a seat."



"Not the first time I've heard that!" Maggie joked, moving towards the exam table. "Thank you SO much for fitting me in, Doc!" She gushed effusively as she set her purse down. She was clad in a tight, slim pair of jeans and a simple, figure hugging green tank top. And judging by the way they were jiggling beneath her top, she hadn't bothered with a bra.



"My pleasure," Kathleen said with a nod.



"Long day?" Maggie asked, sliding her fingers under the hem of her top.



"Uhhh, yeah, I guess. Pretty busy." Kathleen said. As she said this, Maggie lifted up her top, exposing her flat, fit tanned belly. Until finally, Maggie's massive, freshly enhanced breasts fell from their tight constraints, bouncing free.



"Well, thanks again, Doc," Maggie said, tossing her top onto her purse and hopping up onto the exam table. "I really appreciate it!"



"No problem," Kathleen said, pulling on her latex gloves and getting to work, placing her palms onto Maggie's boobs. As she conducted the routine exam, her thoughts drifted elsewhere.



In truth, despite the great life it allowed her, Kathleen wasn't exactly thrilled by the fact that her life was spent performing the not-so-noble work of enhancing women's cup size to obscene proportions, sending them to make money off of the insane curves that she had created, especially when she didn't have those same curves herself. She didn't love the fact that her one true talent in life seemed to be sculpting perfect pairs of huge breasts, but it was a living, and honestly she was really good at it. As evidenced by the massive set she currently had her hands on.



They were absolutely phenomenal breasts, truly. Some of the best she'd ever done. They were certainly way too large, for sure, like, obscenely huge, but damn if they didn't just look good. Perfect, golden tanned skin, so smooth to the touch and undeniably immaculate looking. Her areolas were perfectly round, capped with nipples stiffened by the cool air. Kathleen slid her glove-covered hands over the warm, soft flesh, squeezing the big boobs lightly, testing their firmness, testing to see if her actions would cause any reaction in the large-breasted woman. Kathleen glanced up at her, and the only reaction she saw was a satisfied smirk.



Clearly, Kathleen had done good work.



Her latex-gloved hands lightly kneaded the firm, tanned, GG-cup breasts of Maggie Hewitt. Maggie had come in with breasts a little larger than Kathleen's natural set, and now, thanks to the good doctor's talents, she had these new massive set of knockers. They were definitely too large, but Maggie had insisted on going this big with them. She said she wanted, "GG's, like in Maggie," and Kathleen was 90% sure she chose this size solely to have this line at her disposal.



"How do they feel, Maggie?" Kathleen asked, observing the flesh as she squeezed her breasts lightly.



"Doctor, they are absolutely perfect!" Maggie gushed, in her pronounced British accent. And it wasn't one of those classy, lilting, fairy-tale British accents either. Hers was very loud and brash, and you could just imagine a woman like her fitting in perfectly with other party girls found in clubs deep in the heart of London. She was 25, and from what Kathleen understood, she had made her way to the States to make it as a model and a big star. And although Maggie hadn't come out and said it, Kathleen suspected she knew exactly what type of modeling Maggie would eventually end up doing.



"Any pain, numbness, loss of sensation?" Kathleen asked coolly.



"No! Not at all! I tried them out in action, too. Like, I was riding this hot guy a few nights back, and they were bouncing around everywhere, and he had his hands all over them, and he was, like, twisting my nipples, and it all felt so good! Even better than it did before!" Maggie exclaimed shamelessly, taking Kathleen aback. Maggie noticed the doctor's eyes widen. "Oh... sorry, Doctor. Hmm... you probably think I'm a bit of a slag, don't you? Just another nasty slut with massive knockers, right?" she asked with a laugh.



Kathleen smiled and shook her head.



"It's none of my business to judge what you do with your personal time, Ms. Hewitt," Kathleen stated calmly.



"No, but uh, I haven't had any issues or anything," Maggie stated, trying to answer the question somewhat medically. There was a silence as Kathleen made some notes. But Maggie couldn't help herself and continued speaking. "But yeah... the reviews are in, and they are all good. I mean... guys look at me all the time. And a lot of women, too, surprisingly enough. I've literally had a few women come up to me just to chat me up about my tits. It's kinda crazy. A couple even helped themselves to a bit of a squeeze. All they had to do was ask, really. Like this woman at the mall. A little older than me, maybe your age. She was one of the workers and she was recommending tops for me, but she couldn't take her eyes off the twins. Haha! She asked if she could touch, and I was, like, 'yeah, of course! That's what I got them for!' And she was impressed. I told her where I got them done, and she seemed VERY interested. So... you might be seeing her soon, Doc! I'm looking out for you!" Maggie said with a cheeky grin, giving Kathleen finger guns.



"Well... it's appreciated," Kathleen said with a small smile. A few moments of silence fell as she continued her procedure, and again Maggie couldn't deal with that, so she decided to speak up again.



"I have to thank you. I swear, Doctor, like, all my life, I dreamed that I would be one of those girls that would end up with huge tits. When I was a little girl that was all I ever wanted. So, like, when they didn't grow, I was crushed. It... it just felt wrong, like, I was supposed to have a big pair of tits. I was meant for it! I was supposed to be one of those girls. I knew it was true. But, like, some circuit got crossed or something and I got stuck with an itty, bitty pair." Kathleen's eyes narrowed slightly. Maggie's natural breasts, a set of B-cups, were still larger than Kathleen's, which meant that Maggie had indirectly called Kathleen's breasts even worse than itty bitty. But Maggie didn't seem to notice her inadvertent slight. "But you're... like a miracle worker, Doc! These tits are amazing! I've got the big set of jugs I was always meant to have, and it's all thanks to you!"

