"Ouch, that hurts!"

Underneath the bright lights, the man makes me lie facedown on the bed. Then, he pushes my waist down from behind, seemingly looking for the best spot.

I feel something odd press against me and cry out, telling him to stop.

He doesn't, though. In fact, he grabs hold of my belt.

"Your waist curves very nicely, and your legs are long. Your skin is also smooth and flawless. Aside from a minor flaw, your figure is perfect, Ms. Grant. I wouldn't have expected any less of an air stewardess," the doctor said.

I lay on the massage table, my face red. My pants were off, and my shirt was wide open. My legs trembled as they rested on the shoulders of the handsome doctor before me. His warm, coarse hands roamed my body. The sensation made me feel like I'd been set on fire.

"W-What should I do about my minor flaw, Dr. Gould?" My voice shook a little as I tried to keep my breathing even.

He smiled confidently. "Rest assured that all the women who come to me will become flawless!"

He pulled out a jar from his pocket and dug out a handful of a sticky paste-like solid. Then, he applied it on the front of my torso.

My name was Sabrina Grant. I was an air stewardess. Since childhood, my good looks and slender limbs had always been my proudest features.

Still, everyone was a perfectionist. Whenever I thought about my figure, I would look down at my flat chest, feeling insecure. I stood at five feet and nine inches and weighed 127 pounds, but I was only an A-cup in bra size.

I wasn't the only one who scorned my boobs. All the boyfriends I'd had in the past found me lacking in that aspect, too. That was why I constantly wore foam pads, never going without them, even if I got rashes in the middle of summer.

All of this was just so I could hear people say, "Sabrina's so skinny, yet she's so well-endowed. Whoever gets to date her is a lucky man."

Recently, however, the airline company I worked for had changed its uniform. I couldn't wear the foam pads anymore. So, I thought about getting a top sugery and implants—I would become an artificial beauty.

At the same time, I was a coward. There were news articles everywhere about implants turning into tumors after shifting out of place or even exploding inside people's bodies. They refused to leave my mind.

To make matters worse, I was always flying. No one knew whether anything would happen to the implants while I was in the sky. If anything were to go wrong, losing my life wouldn't be the worst of it. People would make fun of me for as long as they remembered me—I wouldn't even be able to rest in peace.

I hurriedly shook my head to rid myself of thoughts of getting a top sugery.

I sighed, feeling dejected. Was my image of being a sexy beauty going to be ruined?

I was cleaning the cabin when I suddenly heard Stephanie Johnson and Rachel Cane messing around.

"Whoa! When did you get so big, Stephy? Did you get a top sugery? Tell me the truth!" Rachel exclaimed.

"Stop it, Rae! I'll come clean! I didn't get anything done, okay? This is all natural. It's a…" Stephanie said.

I didn't hear the rest of her sentence, but I saw her come out of the rest area. Her face was still the same plain one, but her full chest stunned me. I used my hands to vaguely measure them and realized they were at least a D-cup.

I had to say they did wonders for her looks. She'd originally been like a bland salad but was now like a thick, creamy soup.

"Uh… Could you wait for me tonight, Stephy? I have something to ask you…" I struggled with this. On one hand, I didn't want others to know my secret. On the other hand, I was genuinely curious to know how Stephanie had made it happen.

"Oh, okay," she said.

I looked down at her perky chest; they seemed huge on her frame of five feet and six inches. I clenched my fists tightly and made up my mind.

"What? Massage? Does that actually work?" I asked.

"Of course. Here, feel mine if you don't believe me, Rina. Why would I lie to you? You're the only one I'll tell about this, you know," Stephanie said.

My jaw dropped in astonishment upon hearing her tell me that her chest had grown larger after going for massages. They hadn't shrunk afterward, nor did she have any side effects.

She grabbed my hands and placed them on her globes. I was so shocked that I subconsciously groped her hard. She moaned, "Be gentle, Rina…"

At that moment, I believed she wasn't lying. I couldn't help thinking that this was the perfect solution.

"Ahem. Could you recommend the doctor to me? I, uh, I have a friend who's really frustrated over this. Thanks a bunch, Stephy." I smiled awkwardly while asking Stephanie for the clinic's website so I could make an appointment.

I didn't expect it to be different compared to other clinics, which were usually cold and stark. This one was even somewhat cute and perky—the first thing I saw on its website was that it was 95 years away from becoming a century-old clinic.

I looked through the information on the website and soon came across several examples of successful cases. The latest one showed a photo of Stephanie. Her face wasn't in the shot, but I recognized her from the tattoo on her torso.

The website also showed good reviews everywhere. This solidified my desire to make my chest grow through massages.

Just like that, I mustered the courage to head to the massage and body sculpting clinic on one of my off days. I had a mask and cap on; I looked like a spy as I approached the front desk. "Hi, I made an appointment for Dr. Gould."

Before the receptionist could say anything, a man in a white coat who looked to be six feet and one inch tall approached me. "Hi, are you Ms. Sabrina Grant? You made an appointment for a massage and body sculpting, right? I'm James Gould. Come with me, please."

He reached out to take my bag from me. Then, he wrapped an arm around my shoulder and led me to the room. I stood inside, feeling so awkward and embarrassed that I couldn't stop playing with the hem of my shirt.

James laughed. "I can understand your concerns, Ms. Grant, but a doctor doesn't pay attention to his patient's gender. If it's too hard for you to handle, you can always imagine me as a potato."

He could tell I was nervous about having a male doctor, so he took off his mask and smiled, wanting to ease my nerves. Without his mask, I could see how handsome he was. His eyes crinkled as he smiled, and his long lashes made him seem like he was looking at me tenderly. He had a tall nose, and his lips were a healthy red.

I was stunned by his looks. Then, I complimented him. "I can't do that. Even if you were a potato, you'd be a handsome one."

His smile grew at that. Then, he put on a pair of gloves and pointed at the massage table beside him. "Thanks for the compliment, Ms. Grant. Now, please take off your top and bra and lie on your back."

I shyly stripped and lay on the massage table, breathing softly. James pinched and lifted as he checked me. Then, he rubbed me. I flushed and started showing a reaction down there.

Soon, however, he frowned. This scared me a little. "What's wrong? Am I unsuitable for the massage?"

"You're not in the best position for me to identify the best spot for the massage, Ms. Grant. You seem to also have other gynecological issues," he said.

I was taken aback by his words and sat up anxiously. "Really? That shouldn't be the case. I… I don't sleep around…"

He waved a hand with a smile when he saw how nervous I was. "I don't mean that, Ms. Grant. You don't have to worry about that. I only have a guess about something; I'll need to do a more thorough check to be sure.

"You're not in the best position for me to detect anything, so I'll have to ask you to take off your pants and kneel on the massage table. That's the best way for me to see you."

My period had been off schedule for several months now. At night, I would also get…

So, I did as told. I kept one arm across my chest as I spread my legs and kneeled on the massage table in an embarrassing position.

"Don't be nervous. This is the best position for me to observe what your chest is like when they're in a natural state—it's easier for me to find the best massage spot. I'll give you a free gynecological test later." With that, James pulled my hand away and pressed his hands to my chest as he rubbed me gently.

I was so sensitive that I couldn't help moaning. The pressure he applied was just right, and I'd been single for too long. His good looks only aroused me further.

I secretly reprimanded myself for getting horny at a doctor's appointment. James was only doing what was required of him as a doctor.

I couldn't help letting my imagination get the better of me, though. James kneeled on the massage table behind me to get a better grip of my chest; his body was plastered to mine.

Perhaps it was because I was too flat-chested—he had to align every inch of his body with mine to get a proper hold of me. I could even feel his zipper rubbing against my underwear.

The worst part was that his warm breath fanned over the back of my neck; his minty scent enveloped me and made my head spin. I was putty in his hands as he felt me up.

I moaned his name softly. "A-Are you done, Dr. Gould? I…"

He didn't respond, though. I felt him pull away from me before tearing something open. Had I also heard him pulling down his zipper?

I wanted to turn to look at him, but I didn't have the strength to prop myself up. My face pressed weakly against the massage table.

"Relax, Ms. Grant. I'm going to check you down here now." James' deep voice rang out near me. Then, he held my waist tightly.

In the next second, he pulled my underwear off, making me feel chilly down there. Then, he stuck something hard in me.

"James!" I cried.