Gripping a hand, Derek led Jessie to the table and helped her climb aboard. She lay back, lights shining overhead.Jessie had an odd, fleeting feeling of being prepped for surgery with a gallery of masked surgeons ready to take notes on the procedure. This image was dispelled as Derek tilted the table a bit and locked it in place, propping her up on a chaise lounge of sorts.It felt strange to be unbound, hands and arms free to touch herself. She ran her fingertips from her collarbones to both breasts, feeling the cold, hard, stainless steel posts still snugged tightly to each sore nipple. She fingered the swoop of the chain that linked the clamps before she smoothed both hands over her belly to red, swollen pussy lips.She looked around. She had quite an audience, so many sets of intricately masked eyes following her every move. Jessie was beginning to understand the power she had in this room. At the start, she thought it was all Derek. She now realized that she was the one. Doing well, the doctor was happy. Bianca smiled."Bianca, you're smiling. That is not permitted. Give yourself twodemerits."Bianca swept the smile off his face. Doctor Victor did not like the showof emotion. It was part of Rule No.3. Bianca always had the same perfectexpression. Neither happy nor sad, just stiff and calm. Why was that therule? The Doctor said it was all part of trying to be perfect.VI."Doctor, I'm not a girl." You have breasts, don't you?" Yes, Doctor, but really I'm not a girl." Bianca sat, his arms across hischest, covering his developing breasts. In front of him on the vanityrested a white laced brassiere."Only girls need bras, Bianca, for their big breasts. You have breastsand soon, they will be big. You need a bra to support your growingbreasts." It went unsaid that, bra'd and breasted, Bianca must be a girl."Something happened to me. You did something to me. I shouldn't need abra", Bianca whined. He made no other attempt to resist. "Bianca, put on the brassiere.
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