---

 

---

Viewing Note: This story should be viewed with the Edwardian Script ITC font installed on your Windows platform in the c:/Windows/Fonts directory. Microsoft Word installs this font automatically.

Editor's Note: Jenny Walker has graciously allowed me to represent her original story No Half Measures on BigCloset. Originally published on BigCloset Classic, this story segment was migrated over to BigCloset TopShelf on 2005-03-17. Due to the original story presentation format being unsuitable and unwieldy for most portable devices (each part being over 1 meg in length), the story is now being broken up into single chapters for easier reading. The original Movements will be indicated on their respective chapters. The first chapter of each Movement will retain the original comments and read hits so as to preserve them for the author.

Sephrena Lynn Miller

---

 
 
Chapter 17
 
 
I walked out onto the stage to rapturous applause. The lights went up and nearly blinded me. Through the glare, I could just about make out the sea of faces and bodies that had packed the auditorium. The heat from the lighting was overwhelming. I felt myself begin to perspire.

Jon walked over to me. "Are you sure you are OK?" he shouted into my ear, "You look awful."

I swallowed and murmured, "I'll be alright." I didn't feel alright though. I walked over to my microphone stand, forced a smile and waved at the crowd. I felt a wave of nausea sweep over me and it was all I could do to stop myself from grimacing. I heard Kevin count the band in and the music started. The stage began to spin and I heard a voice that sounded like mine say, "I'm gonna be sick."

The lights began to fade and Jon rushed over to me as I swayed, "Cara? Cara?"

"Cara? Cara, are you OK?" It wasn't Jon, it was Claire. I wasn't on stage, I was in bed. I did feel sick though and promptly threw up in the dish that Claire was holding in front of me. I was in the clinic.

"Are you OK?" she repeated softly.

I shuddered as another wave of nausea passed over me. I pushed my hair back from my face and grabbed the dish as I was sick again. After a few more retches, I lay back on the bed and enjoyed a temporary respite from the debilitating nausea. I groaned and croaked, "I want to die."

Claire smiled sympathetically and wiped my brow, "Don't be silly. It's just the after effects of the anaesthetic."

"What time is it?" I asked groggily.

"It's just after lunch. I thought you were awake earlier, but you were only semiconscious."

I shifted my position on the bed and another sensation entered my realm of newfound consciousness: pain. "Ow," I murmured. It wasn't excruciating, but there was a dragging sort of discomfort coming from my chest.

"Sore?" Claire asked.

"A little. Not too bad." I paused, "Did everything go OK?"

Claire nodded and smiled, "Yes. I was talking briefly to Mr. Stretton. He said the surgery couldn't have gone any better."

I nodded and forced a wan smile, "Good. Can I go home now?"

It was a poor attempt at a joke, but Claire humoured me and laughed, "Maybe later sis."

I looked down at my chest and there were two large mounds there. I peeped inside my gown, but my view was obstructed by a bandage.

"No peeking yet," Claire said with a twinkle in her eye, "All in good time." She turned to the table behind her and picked up a glass, "Want a sip of water?"

I did. My throat felt like a desert that was crying out for rain. I took a sip gingerly and then took another drink. I left it at that as I felt the demon of nausea begin to raise its horns again. I lay back on the bed, but before long had to reach for the dish again as I promptly returned the water I had consumed to the outside world once more. When it settled, I flopped back on the bed, "I feel like total crap."

Claire squeezed my hand, "Want me to call Marie and see if there is anything they can do to make you feel better?" I nodded and she slipped out. Marie came and made all the right sympathetic noises and asked how I was feeling. I didn't try to hide how bad I was feeling, I didn't think I could. She gave me an injection into my IV cannula. I asked what it was and she told me it was cyclimorph. It would ease the pain and nausea and perhaps let me get some sleep. I was sceptical, but was thankfully proved wrong as I felt myself drifting off to sleep before too long. I spent most of the rest of Sunday drifting in and out of sleep and wasn't too aware of my surroundings or of what was going on.
 

*          *          *
 
The next morning when I awoke, I felt one hundred percent better. It wouldn't have been hard given how I had felt the day before. My head felt fuzzy and my stomach wasn't on the best terms with the rest of my body, but it had called a temporary ceasefire it seemed. The discomfort in my chest was more marked. Given the choice, I would take pain and discomfort over the nausea any day.

"Morning Cara," Marie breezed in. "How are you today?"

I smiled, less forced than yesterday. "Much better. A little sore, but not too bad."

She nodded and asked tentatively, "Want to try a little breakfast?" She saw the expression on my face, "I think you should try to eat something. You won't feel better until you do." We compromised with me agreeing to try some tea and toast. I felt a little rise of nausea as I ate, but thankfully it didn't come to anything and I managed to keep my breakfast down. When Marie came back in to take the breakfast things away, I couldn't keep myself from asking, "Umm Marie? When do the bandages come off?"

She smiled warmly, "Can't wait to see Mr. Stretton's handiwork?" She sat down beside me, "You do realise that things will be badly bruised for several days and won't look anything like you expect? And the scars will have to heal?"

I nodded, "I know, I was just wondering. Oh, where are the scars? I remember he said beforehand that they could either be under the breasts, in the armpit or around the nipples. What did he do in the end?"

"The scars are under your breasts and if Mr. Stretton's previous work is anything to go by, in a week or two you will find it hard to see where they were. The large bandage will come off tomorrow morning and we will see how things are at that time. For now, I think we should get you up out of bed and onto your feet and get a little wash, no?"

With Marie's help, I tentatively found my feet and realised that I hadn't lost the power of locomotion despite my fears. I washed my face and felt much better for it. Any movement did aggravate the discomfort in my chest, but it really wasn't that distressing. I mentioned this to Marie, "I thought I would be in more pain afterwards."

"The anaesthetist performed what is called a rib block. He injected some local anaesthetic around the nerve roots that supply the skin and subcutaneous tissues of the chest. You probably feel a bit numb there. But I am afraid it will probably begin to wear off later today." She was right, I did feel numb on my chest now that she mentioned it. I hadn't really noticed it until now. The prospect of it wearing off was a little disconcerting, but Marie assured me that I could get painkillers later if needed. After washing I wanted to get back into bed, but Marie was having none of it. She made me change into a fresh nightdress and encouraged me to do something with my hair, maybe add a little makeup and then to sit in the chair and either read or watch TV. She smiled and told me I had to make myself feel human again. I took her word for it and did as she advised.

Claire arrived in midmorning and I was delighted to see her. I couldn't bear thinking about how I would have felt if I was here alone. I was really grateful for her presence and told her so.

"Pffft," she said as she waved a hand in my general direction, "You would do the same for me." I hoped that I would. She went on, "You're looking great, how do you feel?"

"Much much better," I said with feeling. We chatted and read, watched some TV - thank goodness for cable that provided channels in English. The few Swiss channels that we flicked through didn't appear too inspiring. At lunchtime I managed a light salad and at dinnertime I actually felt the faint stirrings of hunger returning like a long lost friend. The chicken and pasta bake that I was given tasted like the most delectable food on earth. The discomfort had built up throughout the day as Marie had predicted and I gladly availed myself of the proffered analgesics.
 

*          *          *
 
"Now, let's have a look," Marie said brightly. I had just finished breakfast and apparently it was time to remove the bandages and see what lay beneath. I had a strange mixture of feelings as Marie began to remove the bandages. A bit of apprehension and fear, but also the feeling that a young child gets as they strip the wrapping paper from a present wondering what will be inside. Wisely Marie had encouraged me to take some painkillers at breakfast in anticipation of this moment. It was uncomfortable. At last the bandages were off and I found myself looking at my breasts. My very large breasts. There was a fair amount of bruising, but nonetheless, I was looking at a shapely bosom. I was a bit perturbed at the size of them. Marie noticed.

"What's wrong Cara?"

"Uhh, I was just wondering, they seem a bit bigger than what I was expecting?"

She nodded, "There is some swelling as a reaction to the surgery. It will settle in the next few days. Now let me look at the scars. I am going to have to lift each breast up in turn and it may be a little painful." She was right. It was quite uncomfortable, but I gritted my teeth. When she was done she nodded, "Everything is coming along fine, I have rubbed a little antiseptic cream onto the wounds and covered them with gauze. Now, you get to wear your first bra for your new breasts, but I am afraid it is not the most fashionable." She showed me the surgical bra which looked like an unrefined reinforced harness. She helped me slip it over my head and gently placed my breasts into the cups. She assured me that it was required for just a few days until the swelling went down and to let the wounds continue to heal.

Claire joined me before long and we spent another long day chatting and watching TV. Time was beginning to drag and I apologised to Claire that she had to spend a week of her leave in such a boring fashion. She again told me not to worry about it. I knew she was keen to see my new breasts and she dropped hints accordingly. I smiled and firmly told her that she could see them in a few days perhaps once things had settled down. I was beginning to go stir crazy in this room and when Marie came in later that afternoon, I almost began to plead with her.

"Marie, I'm going crazy here. Is there any way I can get out of here for some time tomorrow?"

She laughed and nodded, "I'm sure we can accommodate that." With what I was paying for this, I was sure they could too. She continued, "If you want, you could go out with Claire for a few hours tomorrow, maybe go out for lunch if you wanted?" It sounded good to both of us and was the only thing that kept me sane for the rest of the day.
 

*          *          *
 
Wednesday was a glorious clear and sunny winter's day and I was itching to get out of the clinic. However Marie wasn't going to be rushed. Again she inspected the wounds and seemed most pleased. "You are healing very well. I should think that you could wear an ordinary support sports bra by tomorrow after your stitches are removed by Mr. Stretton."

It was pure joy to get dressed in normal clothes. Even though it was just a simple blouse and pair of jeans. Marie warned me not to overdo it. If I walked too much, I could put too much stress on my chest and feel the worse for it. I did take her warning seriously, but I still couldn't wait to get outside. So when Claire arrived she barely got into the room before I took her by the arm and wheeled her around.

The air outside smelt sweet and fresh. It was crisp and cold, but I revelled in just being out in it and not cooped up in my little room. We walked down the Rue de Vidollet and then turned right and headed into the centre of the city. The sensation of my breasts moving as I walked was very strange. Yes there was some discomfort, but the feeling of movement on my chest was far from unpleasant. It was very different to how things had felt when I wore the breast forms. There had not been much natural movement with them I now realised. Claire in her typically intuitive way must have realised what I was thinking, "Feel good do they?" She grinned at me.

I laughed and reddened a little, "Well, yes. They do actually."

"Glad you did it?"

I nodded firmly, "Yes. Just as well you didn't ask me that on Sunday afternoon though. The answer may have been quite different."

We walked down to the lakeside. Lac Léman apparently is what it is called. Philistines like me thought its real name was Lake Geneva, but Claire astutely informed me of my error. Irrespective of what it should be called, it was beautiful. A crystal clear lake with hills rising from each side of it. And it was massive. We stood at the lakeside for about fifteen minutes as I drank in the scenery. Then we retired to a little café overlooking the lake and enjoyed coffee which then ran into lunch. Claire and I had talked a lot over the last few days. There had been little else to do. I felt a lot closer to her now than I think I ever had done before. I mentioned this to her.

She smiled, "Yes, I know what you mean. I'm sure a lot of it is down to time with each other, but I think there is something more. I'm getting kind of used to relating to you as a sister more and more. It's a different sort of relationship." I thought she was right and I thought I liked it. After lunch though, I had something else in mind.

"You want to go shopping?" Claire queried as she screwed up her face, "Don't you think you might be overdoing the whole girl thing a little?"

"No, it's not that. I have a few specific things in mind."

"Huh?"

I sighed and spelt it out for her, "I need some new bras."

"Oh," she said as the penny dropped.

We avoided some of the upscale lingerie shops as Claire suspected they would have wanted to measure me to get an exact fit. I didn't want to have someone measuring me yet as I was still a little tender. We found what we needed in a general boutique and I bought several new bras. Some practical and some that were well less than practical. I also couldn't resist buying myself a new top. It was a lilac low cut top that I knew would show cleavage. Claire laughed when she saw what I was at and made several comments using words like shameless, flaunt and the like. I didn't care. I bought one in black as a present for Jools. I couldn't come back from my 'holiday' empty handed after all.

It was late afternoon when we got back to the clinic and Marie chided me gently for being out so long. She asked me how I felt and when I thought about it, I realised that it wasn't so much my chest that was sore, but rather my lower back. I mentioned this and was quite puzzled by it. Marie quirked an eyebrow and informed me as to the effects of the extra weight I now possessed on the front of my chest. I was quite exhausted after the day's activities and decided to turn in early.
 

*          *          *
 
The next morning, I really felt good. My insides felt back to normal and my appetite was up to scratch again. I was permitted to have a shower as long as I kept the surgical support bra on and let Marie check the wounds when I came out. The warm water beating my body was luxurious and I felt properly clean for the first time in days. I subjected myself willingly to Marie's ministrations after I had dried off. She nodded approvingly, "It all looks very good. The wounds have united and I think Mr. Stretton will be most satisfied. I do not think you need the surgical bra any longer. Do you have a suitable one of your own?" I did and with her help, I slipped on a sports bra. It felt more comfortable and I couldn't help but revel in the sensation of holding my own breasts and feel them move on my chest. A lot of the swelling had gone down and the bruising was fading into the typical yellow brown colour. Whilst they were not as big relatively speaking with the diminished swelling, they were still not what you would call small. I thought they were overall probably a little larger than I had been when wearing the breast forms but I didn't think it would be noticeable. I really was very pleased. Marie noticed.

"You like them?" she said with a smile.

I grinned, "I do, is it that obvious?"

She nodded, "It is quite obvious. You should be pleased, they really do suit you."

"Thanks," I beamed. I dressed in a red polo neck top and black skirt and took a fair bit of time doing my hair and makeup. If all went well when Mr. Stretton saw me, I would hopefully be getting discharged later in the day.

It was just before midday when Mr. Stretton breezed in with a cursory knock on the door and Marie trailing in his wake. He was smartly dressed in a dark pinstripe suit. "Ah my dear Miss Malone! How are you?"

I smiled, "Very well thank you."

"Have you had any problems?" he asked.

I shook my head, "I felt quite sick after the anaesthetic and I've had a little discomfort, but it's all fairly well settled."

He nodded and rubbed his hands together, "Good, good. Now can I take a look at the end result?"

I slipped off my top and unclasped my bra and removed it. He moved in and gently examined my breasts. He lifted each one up and examined the wounds. Marie handed him a stitch cutter. I steeled myself in case it would hurt, but he deftly removed the stitches and I didn't even feel it. He inspected one last time and then told me I could put my bra on again which I did.

"Everything looks wonderful," he said and then winked, "Even though I say so myself. But seriously, you are young and healthy and heal well. The wound is in the skin crease just under your breasts and even now is barely noticeable. In a few weeks, even with close inspection, you will be hard pressed to find it. When the bruising fades, anyone would have difficulty telling that you have undergone surgery. Except for the fact that nature rarely hands out such perfect breasts as you now have."

I wasn't sure if he was complimenting me or his handiwork, but I felt myself flush nonetheless. "Thank you so much Mr. Stretton."

He smiled, "Are you pleased with the end result?"

I nodded and said emphatically, "Very much so."

He paused, "Now you might find they are slightly larger than a D cup which you had wanted. It is often hard to correlate the volume of implant with the resulting cup size so what I do is make a judgement as to which side it would be better to err on. In your case, with your form and figure, a larger breast appears very fetching and attractive. Certainly in my opinion anyway, so I hope you will forgive me if I have delivered even a little more than I had promised."

I laughed a little self-consciously as I pulled my top on again, "That's fine, I am very happy."

He shook my hand, "It was a pleasure Miss Malone, an undoubted pleasure. I'll let Marie sort out the formalities and you can be on your way this afternoon. I am so satisfied with things today that I don't think I even need to see you for a further post operative check. I understand you will be seeing Dr. Carson in the near future again so if there are any problems, she can get in touch with me. Farewell, my dear."

And he was gone, breezing on to his next patient. Employing him had been an expensive little manoeuvre but it brought to mind oft quoted words of my father, 'you get what you pay for'. He was right and all things considered, I was happy enough to write the cheque when Marie brought the invoice. I had thought that writing a cheque for fifteen thousand pounds when buying my car was quite something, but writing a cheque for twenty thousand pounds? It didn't seem like real money and I imagined that was what it was like when one had a lot of it. Did it devalue money? Does it make you value things less? I hoped not.

Claire arrived just after lunch to help me with my things as I was leaving. However she had her mind set on one thing. "Cara Malone, Nicola Evans, sister of mine: we are not leaving this room until you show me the results of this week's endeavour. I think you owe me at least that." She winked.

I laughed, "Alright, fair point." I closed the door and then sat down on the bed and slipped off my top. Claire whistled softly, "What a cleavage!"

"I suppose you want me to take my bra off too?" I asked.

She grinned, "Well, I want to see it all."

I sighed theatrically and slipped my bra off. Claire seemed impressed, "They are beautiful. Amazing. They look so natural. If that bruising wasn't there..." She thought for a moment and then continued, "Where are the scars? I can't see them."

I lifted my breasts up gently, "Underneath, look."

She looked, "Wow, I can barely see them. Impressive workmanship indeed." I grinned proudly and slipped my bra and top back on. Claire mused, "Almost makes me think about getting mine done." She cupped her own breasts.

"Pfft," I said, "you don't need any enhancement."

She grinned, "Well I didn't think so until I saw yours. So tell me, how much did this all cost? You have evaded that question all week."

I grimaced and told her and she blinked several times, "Wow. I think I'll live with my little C cups."

We both laughed and headed down the corridor with Claire carrying my suitcase. At the nurses' station I went over to Marie and hugged her gently taking care not to compress my breasts, "Thank you so much for looking after me and I'm sorry if I caused you any hassle."

She smiled and hugged me back, "Not at all Cara, you were a joy to look after. Good bye and who knows, maybe we see you back here sometime?"

I laughed, "Maybe, but I doubt it." We went outside to where Claire had a taxi waiting. It was going to take us to Claire's hotel. I was going to share her room that night as we were flying back to London the next morning.
 

*          *          *
 
We had a quiet dinner in the hotel and retired to bed in good time. I was still a bit low on energy and figured that was to be expected. We checked out the next morning and headed for the airport. The flight was uneventful except for the inevitable circling over Heathrow, and we touched down around lunchtime. The taxi dropped me off at Jools place and then took Claire back to her friend's house where she had left her car. I had asked her if she wanted to come in, but she was keen to be on her way and get home before dark. I gave her a hug, "Claire you are without doubt the best sister a girl could have. I can never thank you enough for this week." My voice wavered and I felt the dreaded emotion welling up and my eyes began to sting. Inwardly I cursed the effects of the female hormones and what they could do to me in situations like this. Claire was subject to the same problem. I saw her swallow and her eyes glisten. She hugged me tightly, and whispered, "Thanks." We decided to stop the goodbyes there before we both ended up in floods of tears. I stood and waved until the taxi turned the corner. I thanked God for a sister like Claire. She was determined and strong, yet faithful and compassionate.

I lugged my case up the stairs and winced as I felt a few twinges of discomfort from my chest. I set it down at the top and called out, "Anyone home?" There was no answer. I presumed Jools was out somewhere. I unpacked my things in my room and, tired after the travelling, decided to have a nap. When I came to it was late afternoon and I heard music playing. Jools apparently had arrived home. I yawned, rubbed my eyes and gave my hair a cursory brush. I walked out into the living room. Jools was sitting reading something.

"Hi Jools," I said.

She jumped, "Oh my god, Cara you scared the crap out of me. I didn't know you were here. When did you get home?"

I smiled apologetically, "Sorry. I arrived back about lunchtime and was tired so I decided to have a snooze."

She regained her composure, "Well have a good time?"

I grinned, "Yes, I guess I did."

Jools sat and smiled expectantly at me, "Well?"

I wrinkled my brow, "Well what?"

She sighed, "Did you get me a present?"

I laughed, "I knew you would be looking for a present. Let me go and see what I can find." I went and got the black low cut top that I had bought for Jools and brought it out to her.

"Ooooh," she said holding it up against herself. "Nice. A little naughty, but nice. Thanks I love it."

I nodded, "I thought you would." I casually added, "I got myself one too, but in lilac."

Jools frowned a little, "Erm Cara, it's sort of a little low cut. I'm not sure but it might sort of let your breast forms show."

I played along with her, "Oh, do you think so." I grimaced, "Yeah, hadn't thought of that. Maybe I should try it on."

Jools nodded, "I think that would be wise. Hey, where are you going?"

I turned, "No time like the present."

I went into my room quickly before I lost my straight face. I had a little snigger to myself. I knew I was being bad but couldn't help it. I took off my blouse and sports bra. I put on one of my new under wired bras and pulled my new top on. I checked out my appearance in the mirror and smiled broadly. As I thought. There was more than a hint of cleavage on show. I wandered back out. Jools was reading again.

"Umm, what do you think Jools?"

She looked up and set her papers down as she stood up and walked over. "Let me see...." She stopped and her hand flew to her mouth. Her eyes goggled and she murmured, "Oh....my.....god......I don't believe it.....is this some sort of joke."

I smiled and shook my head, "Afraid not."

She came over and took a closer look. "I don't believe it," she said almost accusingly, "What have you done? Holiday my foot! You're a little schemer."

I giggled, "Guilty as charged."

"Let me see," she said clicking her fingers.

"Jools," I protested, "That wouldn't be very modest."

"Oh come on," she said, "you know you want to."

I laughed, "OK well just this once." I slipped off my top, but kept my bra on. Jools marvelled, "This is amazing. I can't believe you have actually done this. How? Where?"

I put my top back on and sat down and talked Jools through it all. I apologised for not telling her but explained that it was a decision I had to take myself and that Claire was the only one who knew. She didn't seem to mind.

"Awesome Cara. But are you sure about all this? It's sort of pretty much an irrevocable step."

I nodded, "I know Jools. But let's face it, all the steps leading up to this have made this decision for me. I can't go back, heck I don't want to go back. So I have to move forward. I'm happy."

She grinned, "We're going to have more shopping to do. Think of all the things you can wear now. And just wait until the summer stuff is in the shops!" We laughed and chatted more as we organised a bite of dinner.

---