It was almost shocking - how my chest had... blossomed. The chest was full of bosom, ripe, swollen, and thrusting into a consummate maturity around the bursting little pink nipple of each breast. The weight was a surprise that had not been imagined, and the new width of my chest, as the bosom swelled under the armpit, was significantly bigger. I could not take my eyes off them. My nipples under the nipples of the breast form were firmly pinched by the padded alligator clamps. It was time for a brassiere, but then I found that I could not figure out how to capture my suddenly sprouted bosom in the cups of the underwear. In my awkward attempts, which would have been greatly comical to any objective observer, I finally hit on the technique of leaning forward and snugging my dangling bosom in the lacy cups of the brassiere. Then rising to my feet, I posed before a floor length mirror in Mother's room and felt the thrill of complete satisfaction. I was ever bit as rounded and curvy as. She soon vanished, but rather less abruptly than an Apparition, and all that was left was the damp spot where the water had passed through her body."Where are you, Beatrice?" pleaded Paul. "Please come back. Where have you gone?"There was no reply.Paul remained in the bedroom for several more hours. He couldn't bear to leave while there was still hope that Beatrice might somehow be mysteriously reassembled. Every now and then he pleaded for her to return. His emotions were torn between bewilderment and grief. He quite literally couldn't believe the evidence of his senses.And why Beatrice? Why was it his wife who'd contracted whatever strange ailment that had killed her? What could Paul have done to save her?Paul very rarely wandered away from the villa. He didn't see the need of it. There had been little incentive to go anywhere at all ever since Beatrice had become so much more of a stay-at-home woman.However, now that Beatrice was gone, Paul was too restless to remain in the villa..
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