Chapter 16: The Practice

Our little capital venture had begun with a vacation.

The shuttle boat unloaded the tourists who had eagerly left their luxury hotel at sea, a Carnival Cruise mega-boat that seemed to arrive in Georgetown, Cayman Islands, about as regularly as trains did in Grand Central Station once upon a time.

Lost in the shuffle of loud shirts, tanned legs and sunglasses were Mr. and Mrs. Mitchell Wright and their daughter Marie. Father and daughter were authentic enough, but playing the role of my mom was Corinne Massey, a long, dark wig suitably covering her short, blonde hair. Her delicate legal situation made her the perfect companion for my father and sister on this vital trip.

So what if she were less than 10 years older than my sister? The Caymans has become a mecca in the Caribbean in large part because no one asks questions unless they have to. Her face matched the one on my mother's passport and her deep tan did a suitable job of aging her face.

Besides that, she and my dad had hit it off on the cruise down from Florida. If Marie had hoped to have some quality one-on-one time with Dad in the sack on this trip, she was going to have to wait. Cruise ship beds don't easily accommodate threesomes.

"I've dreamed of a trip like this my whole life!" Corinne exclaimed as she planted a welcome kiss on my dad. She noticed the frown on Marie's face and quietly added, "And I've dreamed of having you in my bed since we left Florida!"

That brought a smile to the teenager, who began this journey frequently keeping me company, but evolved into Dad's constant companion during the waking hours. She eventually began sharing Mon and Dad's bed with them almost nightly, so the fact that she was craving a little action right at this moment pretty much pegged her as insatiable sexually.

The black bikini she was barely covering with a wrap over her hips pretty much served as advertising, as well. But Corinne's Day-Glo orange two-piece was every bit as skimpy and was worthy of drawing just as much attention. She, however, had it completely covered with a stylish pullover than put all attention on her toned legs.

Dad just grinned and figured the women would draw enough attention away from the obvious erection he was sporting in his khaki shorts.

"Joanna, flag us down a cab," he said, using Mom's name in public. "Marie and I will make sure our luggage made it off the boat."

"Sure thing, Mitchell honey," Corinne said with another kiss worthy of a honeymooner.

"God, Dad. I'm standing right here," Marie sulked.

"And in about 30 minutes, you'll be standing on a penthouse balcony looking out at the ocean while I fuck you from behind," Mitchell said, leaning in.

"Promises, promises," Marie smirked as she skipped away towards the baggage pickup.

The Wright "family" was staying in the Sunset House in Georgetown proper, because we'd figured that the closer they were located near the business district, the better their chances for landing the perfect property. It wasn't four-star or anything, but it was clean and it offered the view my Dad promised Marie.

The top floor also offered her enough privacy to sunbathe topless; it was frowned upon on the local beaches and no undue attention was needed by anyone at this point. After an enthusiastic hour of Dad fucking Marie from behind and Corinne getting acquainted with my sister's clit from beneath, Dad put on a jacket and Corinne donned a conservative (for the Caymans) sun dress to play their part as opportunistic real estate customers. Dad had needed the release and Corinne was happy finally to eat out someone younger than her grandmother.

Not expecting to find exactly what we were looking for on Day One, Dad and Corinne grabbed a local advertiser and searched the want ads, then found a Century 21 realtor and began making inquiries in earnest.

Bingo.

The by-product of so many global bank mergers is the vacating of properties by defunct companies. One such building, a few blocks off the water in a less-touristy part of the city, turned out to be what we looking for. Dr. Conrad had millions at his disposal, so the financial part of the deal was the easiest.

A few phone calls, a few questions about zoning and ownership (no restrictions on foreigners buying property) and the former Dutch Martinique Bank building was ours. It was perfect in terms of our needs: three floors, with the second easily converted into a full-service boob factory, while the third floor was perfect for permanent residency for Conrad and his "family."

The first floor? A reception area up front and some retail space would be available, but not required to sell. If nothing else, we could convert it into sleepover space for anyone in our group wanting a vacation. It was an older building, but in a charming, Caribbean-sort of way.

Dad and Corinne congratulated themselves with a nice seafood lunch capped with some expensive champagne and came back to the motel with a nice buzz. Greeting them in the room was a tanned, sweaty, smoldering hot teenager wearing only a black thong.

She walked towards the amused but aroused couple slowly, purposefully, and Corinne noticed Marie was wearing a pair of her high heels. Marie's eyes locked on Corinne's as she approached, and tossed off a casual, "Hi, Dad." before she stopped before her faux mother.

Marie ripped off the black wig and threw it into a chair, then pulled down the straps of her sundress to reveal Corinne's braless, toned, tanned body. Her thong and Marie's slid down her legs together and my sister needed only a couple of tongue thrusts to have Corinne weak in the knees with the first two of a half-dozen congratulatory orgasms.

I heard most of this when I talked to Dad and Corinne later than day on a conference call from Texas.

"The paperwork will be on its was to Texas today," said Dad, who sounded a little distracted.

"Did Corinne make a good Joanna Wright?" I asked, knowing that he'd know that Mom was close at hand.

"I thought so – and eventually, so did Marie," he chuckled. "She could stand to have a few lessons from your mom in cocksucking. But she's working on it."

"So's Mom," I said, watching her take Dr. Conrad's Texas-sized cock to the root as he listened on the extension. From what I gathered, her willingness to deep throat him anytime, anywhere was down payment for his future services. I didn't know exactly what she wanted, but it didn't matter.

I had my own list.

Later, a satisfied Conrad and I shared cigars (Better than a roach! Who knew?) in his office and discussed the pending paperwork and move.

"There is no rush, but I want my girl at your side every step of the way," I explained, realizing than inhaling a cigar caused its own kind of buzz.

"Which one of this ... extraordinary group of women is she?" he puffed a perfect smoke ring.

"You haven't met her yet," I said. "But that will change shortly."

"Tell me about her," he directed with his cigar.

"Only met her a couple of weeks ago myself," I admitted (why lie?). "She's modeled to help pay her way through med school, and she's got the goods to be a cover girl. But she's now enjoying expanded usage of her brain, so she's a whiz and picking up and retaining prodcedures and thinking on her feet."

"Sounds too goo to be true," Conrad allowed. "So when does Dr. Cover Girl get here?"

"Come on in Mel!" I shouted. The doorknob turned and Conrad raised his eyebrows. That soon followed by his jaw dropping, his cigar falling into his lap and, I'm guessing, his heart skipping a beat.

"Hello Dr. Conrad. I'm Dr. – well, almost doctor – Janikowski," she said, extending her hand. She was wearing an emerald green suit jacket with gold buttons and a tight black skirt. Conrad, who was busy batting away hot ash, recovered nicely to shake her hand over his desk.

"Not a doctor yet?" he asked as he sat back down. Mel remained standing, hands locked behind her.

"I will be by the time you're able to set up shop in the Caymans," she replied. "I don't need anything but third year, and I know a place where I will be able to earn a degree."

"In four months?" Conrad asked, looking at me. I merely nodded.

"It'll be valid, and I promise you, customers will be looking at her and not her diploma," I explained, moving behind her. "Because she'll also be one of your customers."

Mel said nothing as I pulled her jacket apart to show off her perfect C cups.

"She doesn't need implants," Conrad complained.

"Correction. Everyone can use implants is our philosophy," I said, gently hefting them. "Although in her case I almost agree with you. But Lou can be her own before and after."

"I look forward to being your client. And your apprentice," Mel said, stepping forward. She slipped out of her coat as I held it. "And I'm looking forward to enjoying your Texas-sized cock."

Mel disappeared under his desk. I laid the jacket over the back of my chair and left the room. The last thing I heard, was, "Jesus! You throated me the first try!"

SIX MONTHS LATER

It was a day long marked on my calendar – no, not my graduation; I'd gotten my GED months ago. It was the day when a fully-trained Lou brought her staff back from the Cayman Islands following a whirlwind apprenticeship for she and the others.

We'd set up Lou's practice in a not-so-old spa building that had been vacated less than a year before. It still had a feeling a newness to it; the previous owner had more dollars than sense and the men-only (ironically) bath house failed quickly and unnoticed.

Already, Dense Cross had gotten the Conrad treatment and now had pumpkin sized orbs worthy of her muscular frame. Their first client, of my choosing: Lauren Townsend.

Despite failing to top five feet, Lauren's well-toned body was a wonderland. Filling her already adequate chest with boobs she could cuddle, Lauren was a perfect candidate. First, Candice and I spent the night getting caught up with Lou's adventure in the Caymans with the now-notorious Dr. Conrad. Now a confirmed nudist, Conrad barely dressed for work these days. A lab coat over shorts, O.R. sweats over nothing.

Candice also requested sex with Lauren. I agreed, but only as a threesome; Candice let me know four people would be involved. Since Lauren had been programmed to want the surgery, it was a friendly, sexy group that met in Lou's office bedroom -- yes, you got that right.

"It will be so cool having two humongous boobs," Lauren said excitedly as we met. Candice and I tweaked each of her nipples to draw a giggle, but that stopped when Dr. Lou entered. She was topless, tanned and wearing green and gold Bermuda shorts. A stethoscope hung between her modestly enhanced boobs and her hands were in her pockets. Her white teeth gleamed, as did her violet eyes.

"Lauren! Hi!" she said as if they were meeting on the sidewalk. "I can't wait to make some magic with you!"

Lauren's response was to pull her shirt off and match Lou, tan for tan.

Lauren promptly sat in the taller Lou's lap and lip-locked her new doctor. They caressed each other's boobs and hair.

"We met during the pageant," Lou explained. "I love her body -- but I'd love to give her huge boobs."

Candice joined the party by puling off her top.

"I'd love to have them, too," she said, "but these are my moneymakers these days."

"Maybe one day," Lou said, leaning out to kiss my girl. "I like what you have right now."

Lauren's surgery went very well; Lou arrived in Daytown a skilled plastic surgeon, her license courtesy of St. George's in Grenada. They inflated, it seemed, full and round and very soft.

When she awoke fully, she hugged one as if a teddy bear. In a matter of hours, she tried on her specially tailored cheerleader outfit complete with skintight material shaping her top. The school would have to move one of her locker neighbors to give her room to visit hers. She had a special bikini top made for public appearances, as well as a string black halter dress. Somehow, she was able to keep her center of gravity and do the flips and passes she could before.

But Lauren being Lauren, her usual manner of dress was a too short denim skirt with a men's denim shirt that tied off under her mammoth boobs, showing off her still-ripped abs. And don't even get me started about how she looked in the gym. Confident, talented and HUGE. Candice and I spent hours bringing her stretched muscles into shape and marveling at how large her nipples grew. We would massage her back to loosen the muscles that worked so hard during the day.

Lou was an artist: taking up where Conrad left off, she was able to bring Mickey's mom up to the size of her daughter. Dad also brought down the Hill twins to get their twins doubled in size. The procedure didn't cost him anything, of course, but they forced him to spend a fortune on their tailored, sexy wardrobe.

And then there was Mom.

Every morning, I marveled at this amazing looking woman with a deck she could barely reach around starting my day the perfect way, nursing a the first load of the day from my loins. I counted my blessings -- and I thought about that conversation with Dr. Conrad a few months previous.

"I want my mom to be your masterpiece," I said as we relaxed in his new office atop the old Cayman bank building. "I want to see her sucking my cock and thinking that Denise Milani has climbed in my bed."

"I have seen her," he said as he waved his cigar.

"She's very fit for a 42-year-old woman," I said. "She has a nice body, but in recent months, you would swear that 20 years have just melted away. Here's the fun part – I'll pay you by giving you one of my Sunny Tropic girls to you and your family as a sex slave."

"Then you'll get my best work," he laughed. "But let me be clear about this – you want the silly string treatment on her boobs?"

"Damn straight," I said. "Bigger the better."

"And?" he asked.

"If you feel she needs it -- Botox, butt tuck, lift anything that's starting to sag," I said. "It's in your power to make her a walking wet dream again."

"For you or your dad?" he asked, grinning.

"Fortunately, you don't have know the answer to that," I said, knowing full well I was providing the answer to that.

"Does your mom know she's about to be given the gift of size?" he added, more seriously.

"She only thinks she does. It'll be quite a conversation, I'm sure," I said, getting up and extending a hand. Sure, Conrad was in my control, but a deal's a deal.

Dodging movers who were unloading the unit shipped from Texas, I found my Dad outside, sunning himself in the neat little garden spot behind our U-shaped building. Since coming down to find this location, he had fallen in love with the Caymans. His shirt was open and he had a local's tan working. But I couldn't say much; I'd also worked hard to get a tan after years of consistent stoner pale.

I sat back in the recliner next to him and, seemingly without opening his eyes, he handed me a cold beer.

"We need to talk," I said.

"I'm not going home," he said quickly. "That's final. This is home, now."

"Fine, fine," I said. "I feel good having family down here full time. Marie staying with you?"

"Well, about that," he opened his eyes and looked over at me. "The downstairs area here has been set aside as a kind of sleepover area whenever someone from Daytown comes, or whoever, right?"

"Sure, right," I said, already knowing where this was going.

"Well, I was thinking that maybe that Marie would stay, get her GED," he nodded. "And certainly I'd bring the Hill twins down. And Brandy and Brittany have been living with them. So..."

"So, you'd like to break apart the family. Me, mom and Kelly stay in cold, gray Daytown," I said as if annoyed.

"Son, this family is nothing like that now," he said. "You've brought all of these women into our lives, even their kids and sisters and now the Conrads. Shit, what's family now?"