Vixen stood before her tall mirror with her firm breasts in her hands, lifting them and studying them, her nipples so high she could bend and lick them. "They are just much too big," she decided. When she squeezed them hard, more than half of each boob jutted well out beyond her grip.

The implant job had been done when she was fifteen and had about a 32B chest that was enlarged to 36C with heavy silicone bags, illegal at the time, but done for a good price by an unscrupulous surgeon who had demanded and received a blowjob before and a tit-fuck after his work. Vixen still remembered his foul taste and his bad breath. She also recalled that he had a puny cock.

But now, more than three years later, Vixen had been measured as a 40D cupsize when she went to buy lingerie. That was much too big, at least for her. "I've got to have those plastic things removed or replaced," thought the girl, trying to remember the name of the foul doctor that did the job for her father while she massaged her warm globes and watched her nipples swell.

She sighed in exasperation as she looked at herself. She had become a Barbie doll, top heavy and out of proportion she decided after staring at herself sideways, but at least she wasn't sagging. She bobbled her jugs up and down, enjoying the feel and watching them jiggle after she let go.

She called her Dad, got the doctor's name and number and made an appointment, hoping to get her breasts fixed at the semester break. She dressed carefully and conservatively, wearing one of her new bras, and drove to the man's downtown office in flat shoes, a long skirt and loose-fitting blouse that fell off one shoulder.

The doctor was prepared for her visit and had before and after pictures of her adolescent chest on his desk. When she was seated and her long legs crossed, he asked what the problem was, and she replied simply that they were too big, and she wanted them reduced in size while retaining their fine, round shape and what she thought of as "perkiness." She had never used that word before and surprised herself. He smiled and licked his lips.

"Let me see," he said, feeling the beginnings of arousal. "They do seem a bit large, I suppose, at least to some people. Stand up and disrobe, please." He glanced at the pictures on his desk as Vixen peeled of her shirt and unlatched her lace-trimmed bra and let her big boobs spring free. Despite looking at naked women all day, the doctor found himself tumescent as soon as Vixen walked through the door with her giant hooters bouncing.

"Oh, they are lovely," the man said, standing and reaching out with both hands, his mouth open. He grasped Vixen's high, firm breasts and massaged them firmly, feeling them deeply and carefully in a circular manner, her nipples in his palms. "There are a couple of hard places, perhaps same calcium, but what has happened is that you have matured, my dear." He teased out her hard nipples and felt his cock tremble.

Vixen tried to ignore the sexual impulses surging through her groin as her jugs were manipulated, and she stepped back, pulling free of his hands. The doctor smiled and grasped her breasts again, his thumbs on the inside and squeezed hard, digging in his fingers as he lifted. "The bags are still in place. I'm sure they have not leaked or moved. What's it been, a bit over five years?"

Vixen nodded, recalling his dark-headed cock sliding up and down between her new boobs when she came in for a post-op check-up. It seemed a long time ago, and she wondered how many men had used her tits since the enlargement.

The doctor pinched Vixen's nipples until she squealed and then resumed his chair, fully erect and aching. Vixen sat, still bare-chested and waiting, biting her lip, her bra and blouse in her lap, her teased nipples jutting and throbbing.

"What size to you want now?" he asked licking his lips and trying to ignore his throbbing cock. Her breasts, he decided, were simply incredible, the best he had ever done, perfect hemispheres with a wonderful texture.

"What I would have normally, not augmented, about 36C I think," the girl said. Her clothes fit fine at that size, most of them, and she had been very popular back then without having to fight off the boys. She thought briefly of the computer geek she had seduced to get out of high school a year or so after she had the boob-job.

"We might be able to go in under your arms and pop them out, but it would be better to follow the path of the original incision, remove the devices, use butterfly closers and then check in a day or two, a very small incision but a general anesthetic. You may not need any help." He squirmed as his cock shifted in his trousers.

Vixen nodded. "Can you still put in silicone if you need to?"

"Of course," he said with an eager smile, "of course, but you may require very little to achieve what you want, perhaps a 200 ml teardrop. I must admit, I like what you have now. I'm proud of that pair of beauties." He licked his lips, his mouth filled with saliva and his groin throbbing.

"I can't swing a golf club or a baseball bat and most of my clothes don't fit right. Besides, everybody is looking at me. I'm top-heavy. It's looks funny, unnatural"

"I understand," he said. "When do you want me to do this?"