The worst thing of all had been my breasts. I’d re-examined myself in the bathroom that night and again the following morning. It was quite clear that I had little mounds behind my nipple, real and fleshy.
When I squeezed myself just lightly, the cleavage that I thought came from taping instantly appeared. I had a bra that pushed on me from the sides. When I put it on, I almost threw up as I looked at myself and all I saw in my mirror was a pretty, blonde girl, her hair in sleeping pigtails, her breasts jiggling a little in front of her.
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