Note: If I do continue the story, I may end up retconning some of the later parts of it, as I feel my characterization of the new character was a bit two-dimensional.

Day 4

Once again my meeting wasn’t until around dinner time, so we had the afternoon to fill as we saw fit. Lita’s feet had calmed down a bit, so we started by taking a walk around town. According to her, it was as intense as having her feet massaged at a spa the entire time.

Again I noted the constant presence of the M/S corporation. Not only did they appear to own half the shops in town, but I caught glimpses of their logo on the uniforms of security personnel here and there. I had no idea of the true depth of the situation just yet though.

Since there was time, we ended up deciding to see what one of the other cities might be like, so we took a train to the next town over, which happened to be near a beach. For the most part, things were similar to the previous town. We did run into one thing that caught our eyes, though: a large sign advertising “balloon diving.” Odd. All curious to see what it was, we found ourselves joining the queue at a small building on the beach.

This is where things got crazy. Apparently they charged pretty high rates for this, but today they were running a special offering free first-time tickets to anyone who went balloon-diving naked. Unsurprisingly, my three companions started egging me on almost immediately, and before I knew it the group had somehow worked out a deal where we’d all try it together. Thus we ended up waiting on the beach behind the building, naked, for the staff to get us ready to do who-knows-what.

First, a soft plate was attached to each of our backs with a powerful adhesive. We were assured that it couldn’t possibly come undone during our balloon-dive, but could be easily removed later by the staff. The plate was in turn attached to the end of a long cord connecting it to a large balloon. Over the span of a minute or so, our four balloons were inflated until we ever so gently started to rise up off the ground. At first it was only a few meters, but we continued to slowly climb higher and higher.

For the first few storeys, we were close enough together to brush away our nerves with casual conversation, but before long the wind started to carry us further apart until we were out of earshot and appeared as little more than specks to one another. Needless to say, for the first few minutes I was terrified. The staff had told us that the wind would bring us along a path parallel to the shoreline and far too high for anyone to see us, so if we got too scared we should feel free to do as Nature bid us. We’d laughed it off at the beginning, but I was starting to wonder if I’d really end up doing that - or if one of my friends were doing it right now.

Fortunately my nerves wore off after a few minutes and gave way to excited euphoria. If I’d still had my arms, I would probably have been flailing them nervously, but not having anything to flail (aside from kicking my legs around a bit) had an oddly calming effect on me. With plenty of time for my subconscious to figure out that I was safe after all, I relaxed and simply enjoyed the view and the feeling of the wind on my bare body.

And such a feeling it was. I’d ridden aboard aircraft before, but actually floating in the sky with my body exposed like this was something completely different. Deprived of the usual sensations of the ground against the bottoms of my feet or furniture against my butt or back, I became all the more sensitive to the warmth of the sun and the soft touch of the breeze. Air flowed across every part of my body, between my toes and over my crotch. I never thought that the atmosphere itself could stimulate me like this.

Floating through the air like this seemed like it would never get old at first, but as they say, a body can get used to anything. Just as I was starting to get bored and wonder if anything else would happen, something did - hundreds of meters above the ground, my balloon suddenly deflated and then detached from my back! I was left in free-fall, plummeting down toward the surface faster and faster with nothing to slow me down. My mind started to race - was I going to die? What had gone wrong? Wasn’t the adhesive supposed to hold until the staff removed it? Had the balloon malfunctioned? All the while the ground rushed closer and closer.

I imagined what I might look like in a few seconds, my blood and guts splattered all over the street or someone’s lawn. Spinning wildly as I was, there was no telling what was below me. It might as well have been a bunch of spikes for all it mattered - even water would kill me from this height! It was embarrassing to reflect on later, but I ended up spewing fluid. I never figured out for sure whether it was urine, cum, or both.

Suddenly I felt myself immersed in some soft, foamy white substance. I had been facing up just before impact, so I hadn’t seen it, but it turned out everything had indeed gone as planned and I’d landed on a very large, very squishy cushion made of a semi-solid foam. I observed that my three companions had landed a short distance away at around the same time.

We were all rather dizzy and a bit confused, but in the end we concluded that it had been a really fun experience after all. Whoever had come up with this idea had managed to mix in a perfect blend of excitement, calm, and fear to amazing effect. For now, we were grateful to be back on solid ground again, but were very open to the idea of trying this again someday.

Mira still wasn’t satisfied though. She agreed it had been very exciting, but she didn’t feel like she’d taken away something from it. Something else would have to be done.

For the time being, however, there was an imminent meeting to attend. My friends knew better than to try to dare me any further at this point, so we all got dressed again (our belongings had been delivered to the landing site during our dive) and started to head back to the port town, where we’d be catching a shuttle up to the orbiting station. Our client, I’d been informed, had circumstances making her hesitant to conform to the regulations on the moon’s surface and have her arms removed, so the only way to meet us would be in orbit on the other side of customs.

On the way up I involuntarily stared out the window and off into space, reflecting on my earlier experience with the balloon. The window seemed so small by comparison, but for the time being I didn’t mind it. That, and the view was breathtaking enough already with the gas giant Risa 12 hanging in the sky like a massive emerald jewel.

We made a single lap around the moon over the course of about a half hour before coming within docking range. The station was just as I’d left it three days ago - a large, circular structure for the most part, with docking spires sticking out here and there at odd angles. A few other shuttles were hanging off them like giant metal flies. After a few minutes, ours had joined the flock and we made our way inside and past the security checkpoint. Unsurprisingly, leaving Risa 12.1 was a lot easier than arriving.

Inside the station was an environment similar to a single huge, continuous strip mall. The overall mood varied along the circumference, encompassing everything from plucky upscale restaurants and offices to casual hangouts and even nightclubs. At intervals were groups of apartments for staff and temporary residents. Our client was apparently staying in one of these for a few weeks to scope out a new location for her business.

After a short elevator ride my coworkers and I found ourselves at her door, wondering what to expect.

“Hi~” sang the woman who answered the doorbell. “You must be from M/S, right? You’re earlier than I expected. It’s fine, though, come in, come in.”

An easy enough request, but I found myself taken aback at her appearance, something that was in itself surprising to realize considering I’d just spent half a week hanging out with a civilization of amputees. For one thing, she was wearing some ridiculous party dress that looked like it was afraid to touch her skin and would fall off and blow away as soon as anyone turned around. I could see a lot more nipple showing through it than seemed practical. Her legs were made of shiny metal, chromed in a few places - an uncommon thing in a society where regenerating limbs was a trivial matter (my current situation notwithstanding).

That wasn’t the real surprise, though. I may have mentioned I saw a lot of nipple showing through that dress. That was because she had more than the usual two. And not just three, as I’d seen once or twice before in red-light districts or movies.

There were eight.

She had two voluminous breasts in the usual place, plus two more pairs below them, plus another pair crammed on top in the space between her chest and shoulders. It was clear that my hunch had been right about what she’d done with all those oppoids she’d been buying.

“So you’re here to interview me about these boobs, I’m told,” she said, flopping onto a large, brightly-colored bed. She then proceeded to take her metal legs off, revealing yet another pair of boobs sitting where her thighs were supposed to attach. Well that explained the prosthetics, I suppose.

It was then that I observed possibly the strangest thing yet. The bed was adorned with two beautiful human legs arching over the sides like armrests, and sure enough, when I saw her resting her arms on them I was able to confirm that the skin tone matched perfectly.

“Those - are those your legs?”

“They sure are! Wanna touch?”

“Heh, no, I’m good. They aren’t still alive, are they?”

“Nah. We don’t quite have that kind of technology just yet. I just had them taxidermied. It seemed like such a waste not to, you know? So I figured I might as well just make furniture out of them. Then at least I’m still using them for something. Also it drives some of the guys wild.”

Looking at what else was scattered about the room, I got the impression she invited a lot of “guys” over here.

“So I suppose if you came all this way you’ll want a look. I presume you’ve been told about them?”

I reassured her that yes, we were indeed aware of what they were and how she got them.

“As you can see, all of them are in fact oppoids,” she began after tossing away the dress with barely a gesture. “It all started about a year ago when I was riding aboard the M/S Topfreedom and ended up winning their lottery. As I’m sure you’ve heard about, that meant I had to get a NanoBlock and then lose my breasts for good.”

“Needless to say I was upset at first. Sure, having an all-expenses-paid luxury apartment is nice, but a girl like me places a lot of value on her rack, you know? I was feeling pretty depressed for a while. It was weeks before I even plucked up the courage to leave the apartment. And even so, every time I went out I worried I’d run into someone I knew and have to spill the whole embarrassing story. Of course my parents found out pretty much right off the bat, but you know, I had old friends and coworkers I didn’t want to have to explain it to.”

“So one day I’m hanging out in the Royale’s bar when I catch this rumor going around that someone found a way around the NanoBlock. Of course, since like half the people living there are ‘winners’ like myself, it was a hot topic. Nobody really knew anything, and in the end nobody took it seriously. So I had to go home and look into it myself. A few hours of research later and I’d dug up a place where they were selling these…”

As she mentioned “these,” she started absentmindedly - or perhaps intentionally - stroking one of her breasts.

“So of course I tracked them down and bought a pair. I admit it felt weird at first, and I moved out of my apartment just to be safe, but once I put them on I knew I’d never want to go back, even to having regular boobs. I can’t do it justice with words, what it feels like having these. You really ought to just try it for yourself.”

I wasn’t so sure about that, but she continued her story undeterred.

“Just one pair wasn’t enough, though. Sure, it was great having my boobs back, but what reason did I have to just stop at two? I’d already had to leave everything behind, so as long as I had to reinvent myself, I figured I might as well go ahead and be selfish. So I went and bought a second pair, that being - oh! I forgot to introduce you to the first two. Meet Mabel and Donna.”

She pointed to her first pair of boobs as if giving us an anatomy lesson.

“And these here are Claire and Hanako…” she said, indicating the uppermost pair.

“...and Stacy, Francine, Maria, Denise, Saoirse, Anne... and Violet.” As she continued rattling off the names she’d given to each of her boobs, I noticed she actually had a total of eleven - and the last one was somewhere I’d never expect in a million years.

“Violet’s the newest one. I’d never have expected it to turn out like this, but you never really know, you know? So anyway, it turns out that not only can you eat through these, you can use them for sex. You have to start with the uh, smaller guys at first, or just your fingers, but with a little stretching you can fit it in pretty easily. And it feels just as good!”

“Needless to say, guys love a chick with lots of boobs, and before I knew it the girls were getting more action than my vagoo was. So I figured, hey, if I ever decide I want kids I can always just clone myself, so if sex is better like this anyway, why not just stick one there too?”

“I forgot to mention, one of the best parts is right when you put it on. It stings for just a second when the teeth go in, but then it’s just pure euphoria. I wish I’d still had my original boobs for when I put on the first pair. It’s like your skin’s being kissed magnified by ten. And putting on Violet was positively orgasmic.”

She was quite emphatic about this point.

“Don’t you realize you’ve become addicted? Their hormones are making you want to buy more of them,” I protested.

“Well yes and no. As you can see, it’s not like I became a zombie or a mind slave or anything. I’m still me, and even from a completely rational standpoint I still think I’d want these. It has all the benefits of regular boobs except for producing milk, plus bonus features.”

“I want to assure you, it really does feel good though. And no, I actually think I’m happy with this many. Eleven may seem like a lot, I guess, but these are like my babies - I wouldn’t trade them for the whole solar system. But I don’t really want any more.”

“But still,” I insisted.

“It’s not really any different from stuff like smoking or drinking alcohol, is it? Those are addictive. And people know they’re unhealthy. So far, these haven’t had any ill effects at all.”

“But your legs!”

“I got replacements. And I still have them, they’re just not attached. Big whoop.”

She and I were nowhere near seeing eye to eye on this topic, but I had business to do. As long as we’d come all the way here, we had no reason not to get on with the questions.

“You’re not thirsty or anything, are you? Snacks? I don’t have a lot to eat, but I can get you guys drinks or something if you want.”

Oh, so now she was being hospitable. Only after the whole autobiography.

“No thanks, we’re good.”

I had to admit, as business meetings went this was exceptionally casual. For lack of anything properly business-y like a table, we’d all ended up sitting on the end of her bed like a bunch of preteen girls having a sleepover.

“Okay, so. Questions. Um, you mentioned you can eat through those. About how much of your nutrition would you estimate you’re getting from them?” asked Mira, actually getting down to business for once.

“One hundred percent. That’s actually why I don’t have all that much food in here. I feed the girls every time I have people over for sex. They crave protein and salt like no joke.”

“Wow. So that’s all you eat? You don’t even use your mouth any more?”

“I guess I still eat normally now and then, especially when I go out. I still find it fun to sneak bits of food in under my clothes at restaurants.”

“What kind of reactions do you get from people?”

“Oh, just what you’d expect. It’s not every day you see a chick with eleven boobs after all, and when they see food disappear into my nipples they go everywhere from horrified to aroused. I tend to take the curious ones back here to learn more.”

“Do you have trouble at your job as a result of your ‘hobby?’”

“Actually, no - it helps! I own my own brothel now, and I’m here to see about moving it to 12.1. More specifically I’m looking into leasing a place in the station so I can get people from off-world who aren’t into the whole armless thing.”

I was impressed if nothing else.

“So back to the topic of reproduction then. You mentioned not worrying about having kids. Are you not worried you’ll change your mind in the future? As far as we’ve been informed, oppoids cannot be removed once they take root.”

“That’s true. I’ve given it some thought, and I got to thinking I could be a breeder. If these things end up turning into a craze, there’ll be tons of money in it, I assure you. And, well, the way I see it, I’m like a mother to these girls…” she gestured at her boobs again, “...So breeding them is kind of like having children for me. I know they agree!”

“How much do you know about their reproductive cycle?”

“Not much, I’m afraid. I know they can mate while we humans are having sex, but I haven’t actually met anyone else who has any yet. And I haven’t read anything about what happens afterward, whether they lay eggs or something.”

“Last question. What sources do you know of? For example, can you tell us where you bought yours?” Mira asked. I didn’t think that was on our list, considering we already had a list of known distributors back at HQ. No big deal though.

The woman explained where she’d been buying from, and a few minutes later we wrapped up the meeting and headed back out.