TITLE: Her Best Her
LOCATION: ModernHemingway - USA
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"Dr. Bloom will see you now, Ana." The nurse is cute. A bit thin, but tall and athletic. Ana idly wonders if she is fucking the doctor, isn’t that the cliche? Ana is a cynic and a skeptic, and she knows she is being unfair to this woman she’d barely met, and to the doctor.

Dr. Bloom has a great reputation among Ana's closest friends. Lisa came home from his office, and after those first two visits she hadn't touched a cigarette again. She was a changed woman. Lisa was positively glowing under Bloom’s care, and all she could tell Ana was "it’s really life changing, what he does." She said it almost dreamily, like she was remembering ... something.

Lisa was a bit of a flake, and Ana wouldn't have given Dr. Bloom a second thought until Deb went to him. Deb was part of the friend group, but she was tough to be around. She took pride in "telling it like it is," but that was just code. She was a bitch. She'd yell at anyone, and have fun doing it. She yelled at a police officer over a month ago, poking him in the chest as she argued with him. She was sentenced to therapy in addition to a hefty fine. She chose therapy with Dr. Bloom. Deb was downright lovely the last two weeks, his treatment of her bad attitude and explosive temper was eerily effective. Just like with Lisa, whenever Ana asked how he did it, the answers were vague, and in Deb’s case accompanied by an uncharacteristic dopey smile.

Dr. Bloom stopped Lisa's smoking and Deb's anger, maybe he could help her, too. She arrives early, there are three ladies in the waiting room. All are lined and wrinkled from sun or smoking or the years, each going back before Ana. There must be another exit, no one ever comes back this way. It is an hour late when the nurse finally calls her. She enters the exam room. It is a big room, with comfortable chairs in addition to an exam table. The nurse directs her to sit on the table, and tells her that Dr. Bloom will be in shortly. She waits, idly swinging her legs.

After a few minutes, the doctor knocks and enters. A kindly looking man in his forties, he asks Ana to leave the table and sit in a chair. “Talk first,” Bloom says. “The best therapy comes from understanding, and you need to communicate to understand.”

Ana tells Bloom about her childhood, about working so hard, about a life where she felt she was “never enough.” Not smart or successful enough for her father, not refined and ladylike enough for her mother, never sexy enough for a string of ex-boyfriends. Her mousy looks contributed to her esteem issues, and her esteem issues kept her from trying hard to change. It was a trap. In her twenty-eight year life, she never figured out how to break free of that trap.

The doctor looks over his reading glasses at her; he studies the young woman. Average height at 5’4”, her mousy brown hair frames a plain face, and her glasses don’t help. She is not heavy, but not toned, she rarely exercises. Her clothes are functional, not stylish, and she doesn’t wear makeup, not even a modest shade of lipstick. Beyond her looks, she plainly has anxiety. Her hands are folded primly, knuckles slightly discolored from squeezing too hard. Her eyes dart around rather than finding comfortable eye contact.

“Ana, it is past my office hours, and I know there are no daytime appointment openings for a few months. You’re suffering, visibly, and I want to help you. Do you want to be helped?” Ana thinks for a moment, she doesn’t like making rushed decisions. That’s always been part of my problem though, she thinks. After a short deliberation, she nods, yes.

“Ana, you’re a different case than my normal clientele, and I will need to employ a relatively new technique in addition to my usual methods. I promise you, you will have new confidence and self esteem. But working together, I think we can give you even more than that. Do you want to continue?”

Less hesitation this time, “Yes.”

“Your friends’ treatments were easy, to stop smoking, to stop getting angry, that was all in their minds. Those 50 and 60 year old "Real Housewives" you saw in the waiting room... why do you think they were here? They want to turn back the effects of aging. By rewiring their minds, their bodies follow, tricked into becoming younger, by deeply believing that they are.”

“You will meditate, verbally visualizing a new you. I’m going to give you a VR headset, that’s the new part, to help you focus. As you ‘see’ the new you, I will use your body’s dopamine and electrical stimulation to re-wire your mind. There is a Buddhist saying, believing is becoming. Your mind’s direction will affect your body.”

She makes her way to the exam table. The dopamine sounds legitimate, that is one way people get physically hooked on drugs. The Buddhism sounds hokey, but she guesses that people have been focusing that way for thousands of years.

“Ana, I will need to monitor and manipulate you during the process. I will attach some very low voltage electrodes to your head, and to your genitals. I see your alarm, let me explain. Pleasure, dopamine, is the body's most effective way to reprogram itself. The electrodes will stimulate you, make you feel pleasure, while the electrodes on your head work with the dopamine to “hardwire" the new you into your brain. Your genitals are evolution’s fastest way to produce bliss.”

She likes the idea of a new me, the “old me” wasn’t working out the ways Ana dreamed. She tells the doctor it’s ok, and he attaches wires to her forehead and temples and the base of the back of her neck. He brings out a similar device with three wires and a small, curved ... dildo? “What’s that for?” She asks.

“These are the stims. Three exterior, but we need to stimulate your g-spot too, in order to maximize the release of dopamine. We can do without, but the procedure will take much longer, and we would have to reschedule, it’s already 5:30.”

“No, use the stimulator. It’s ok.” It was just that, ok. The stimulator dildo has a sharp upward curve, but is smaller than the couple of toys Ana has at home. She can handle it. The doctor attaches the other three wires on and around her clitoris, then lubes and inserts the small dildo. Then he brings out a cart with the VR goggles. They are smaller than ones she’d seen in stores, and she puts them on.

She is in the dark, hearing the doctor moving around the room. The goggles power on with a hum, and there is the office, an external camera feeding the screens. Neat.

Dr. Bloom talks her through her desires while the electrodes on her head record her reactions. She hopes to be loved, respected, wanted, desired. For women to stop dismissing her and interrupting her, treating her like a nobody. For men to actually look at her, not to overlook her. And she wants to love herself, no more anxiety, no more doubts. She wants to be a queen, a boss, a goddess, anything but a mouse.

Dr. Bloom leans over her, into the VR screen, and says “I think you are ready. Use the meditation exercises we discussed and calm yourself, be focused. The EEG wires on your head will identify the VR images most desirable to you at an unconscious level. Once we have your settings, we will start stimulation. Are you ready?”

Ana gives a thumb’s up from her reclined position on the exam table. The VR images flicker slowly. Lingerie model? Yes. Kardashian butt? Too much. Long legs? Can this make me taller? Yes yes! Business woman? Maybe. Porn star? No. Bikini model? Wow, those are big boobs. Professional woman giving a speech? Sure, I’m terrible in front of crowds. The images continue, thousands, each registering her subconscious reactions. The virtual “swipe lefts” fall out of the image stream, leaving a composite.

Ana likes what she now sees. A gorgeous, confident woman. A lawyer or an executive, but a beauty under the clothes. Tall, with toned legs, a defined and perky behind, flat tummy and only slightly oversized boobs, full and firm and high. Ana is still there, but the hidden lines of her face shine through, jaw and cheekbone no longer buried under puffy cheeks. Her eyes remain brown, but warm and bright, not dishwater and unmemorable. And her hair, oh, the long, silky hair she has wanted since she was a girl, no frizz, perfect and wavy.

This was a woman that could make Ana want women, a goddess. Then her doubt hits her and static fills the screen. She hears a distant voice “you have to believe to become, Ana. Want it. Want it more than anything. Focus.” Ana focuses, and the goddess breaks through the static. She hears the doctor say, “Good.”

The world goes bright white, and Ana screams “holy fuuuuuuuck” as her muscles clench and her body shakes. A sheen of sweat rises from her forehead and neck, breasts and belly. It is a powerful orgasm, and it continues. She hears the voice tell her to focus on the new Ana. She wants to be sarcastic, but barely mutters “Hu bout some... some... some... foreplay nec next t-t-t-time” as her body continues to thrash. It feels like she orgasms forever, with the queen version of Ana on the VR when she opens her eyes, and in her mind when she closes them.

It’s too much. Through gritted teeth she grunts “Nuff. Nuff. Nuff” then whines “eeeenuuufff, pleeez.”

“Almost, Ana. It’s only been 20 seconds. No one ever asks to stop. Aaaaaand ... there we go.” As abruptly as the orgasms took over her body, they stop. Deep inside, she longs for more, now understanding her friends’ dopey expressions when they talk about Dr. Bloom. He takes off the VR headset, and begins removing the wires. The one closest to her clit stings as he peels the sticker away.

“How do you feel? Are you steady?” Bloom asks as she stands.

“I’m fine, no dizziness. I feel really good, doc!” she says as she shakes his hand and looks him in the eye. 20 minutes ago she was a mouse who couldn’t make eye contact with her boyfriends. Now she’s shaking a near stranger’s hand while standing nude in front of him. It’s subtle, and will take her a while to notice all the changes.

As she dresses, Bloom gives her the post-procedure instructions. “Milk, yogurt and calcium supplements. Lots of protein, eggs are easy. And don’t worry about fat for a couple weeks, your body needs it. Skip the sugar if you get hungry, eat cheese. Take a sick day tomorrow, you will need the sleep. And no sex for a couple days while our dopamine reprogramming takes effect.”

Fully dressed, she gives Dr. Bloom a big hug. She’s almost floating out of the office and down the street, like her anxiety had weight that is gone now. She gets on the bus, and a younger man gives her a glance. She glances back, holding the gaze until he looks away, blushing.

By her bus stop, she’s famished, and stops in at the store on the block before her apartment. Eggs, dairy, vitamins, meat, butter. It’s a food order for a male athlete or a farm hand, not a skinny lady, and the man behind the counter raises an eyebrow. She smiles back at him, and pays. He seems shorter today than she remembers. She carries her groceries up the three flights of stairs, almost bounding up despite the weight of the bags.

She makes a dinner of a four egg sausage and cheese omelet, and makes another, she is starving. After changing clothes and plopping onto her bed, she’s bored. When she’s bored, she gets out “little Mike”, her vibrating dildo. Tonight, with the extra energy and confidence, she decides to treat herself to “big Wally” instead, not realizing that Bloom’s advice to skip sex applied to self love, too.

She touches herself, and her lips are warm, almost hot to the touch, swollen and needy in a way she isn’t used to. She moans as she plays, flittering across lips and massaging her button. She finds that she’s very wet, already, and with just a few more touches of her hands she feels a deep need for more.

She grabs big Wally from the nightstand and runs the head along the crease in her lips. Her body involuntarily hunches, wanting the rubber cock deep inside. Ana knows she will need to work slowly with big Wally, it’s a 9 inch beast of a dildo, and flares wide in the middle.

She presses the head between her lips, and slides the tip of the fat dildo into herself. What is usually a struggle is no problem today, Bloom’s orgasm machine must have left her wet and willing, even hours later. She follows her usual routine for a moment, short strokes of big Wally’s head and an inch of the shaft, but a deep imperative takes over, and her hands plunge the massive dildo deep inside, all at once. What would normally be uncomfortable is, tonight, pure bliss. She writhes on the rubbery monster cock, and it’s like she can feel every vein, every ridge, every bump. As she strokes it deeply into herself, she muses on how much she loves huge cock.

As she comes using big Wally, and puts him back on the nightstand, that thought persists, sneaking into her mind along with the rest of the new Ana. Her limbs are sore, she’s tired, and she’s thoroughly satisfied, and she falls into a deep and dreamless sleep.

The light breaks through her curtains and she blinks herself awake. As she sits up on the edge of the bed, she reaches for her glasses on the nightstand. As she puts them on and opens her eyes fully, she wonders if she smudged the lenses the night before. She takes them off and her vision clears, she doesn’t need the glasses. At least one of Bloom’s changes worked.

She stands, and stumbles, her eyes not at their usual level. But she doesn’t fall, instead gracefully catching up to her stride and standing. She stretches, arms raised and pulled back, and feels something ... different. She looks down at tits. Not the sad little mounds of old Ana, not even the perky boobs Deb got when she turned 30, the C cups. No, new Ana has “capital T” Tits, they look big.

Ana glides to her mirror and sees why. Those perfect breasts are on a lithe, thin, toned back, above a taut belly. She looks up at her face and gasps. It’s Ana looking back, but a perfect Ana. Clean lines along her jaw and cheekbones, full lips, warm eyes, and the wonderful wavy hair. She realizes her eyes are much higher in the mirror and looks down. Her legs seem to go on forever. They are long, and she can see the muscles of her thigh, and her calves. She is perfectly toned, without being muscular.

She looks closer, and sees there is not a blemish on her body, except one brown freckle on her collarbone. Her eyebrows look like the latest models, the pores on her nose are invisible, and her ear piercings have closed up without evidence they were ever there. Her nipples are darker now, a perfect contrast to her slightly tanned skin. Her nails, even her toenails, are manicured, though there is no polish. And her pussy is hairless, with a slightly pronounced mound above her hood.

She spends long minutes admiring her new body, at one point twirling around like a puppy trying to see her butt. Then the hunger hits her like a freight train. More eggs, more calcium and vitamins and protein. She’s gotten taller and longer, whatever fat was on old Ana has been repurposed, and she still needs more fuel.

After eating three breakfasts, she realizes she will need new clothes. Her panties still fit her waist, but struggle to cover her behind. She has no bra anywhere close to what she needs, and opts for a couple tight tee shirts under a loose tee under a sweatshirt. Donning sweatpants, she realizes that the sneakers are a bad fit. She makes it work.

She goes to Target to get better fitting ... everything. As she grabs her usual style of underwear, something makes her put them down. She scans the shelves, finding athletic panties that make her ass pop, and sexy lacy ones for the evening. Through trial and error, the best bra she can find is a 34D. She resolves to go to Victoria’s Secret and get something better, but this will do. Then yoga pants, properly fitting tee shirts, sports bras, even sneakers. As she moves from sportswear to women’s casual, she stops, frozen in her tracks. She can’t buy those clothes at Target anymore, not the queen, not the boss. She rings up at the register, and ducks into a ladies room stall to change.

Ana emerges, and time stops at the Target registers. Every man looks at her and wonders what life with that girl must be like. Some of the women feel a fluttering deep inside, a strange urge they haven’t felt since that one time in college. And the other women look, and want to copy the hairstyle, or the clothes, something to be a bit more like this lady with the perfect everything.

Ana leaves Target and heads to the Mall. She will go to the downtown boutiques later, but is driven to dress better now, an imperative from her core. She hasn’t been to the Mall in ages, ordering ill-fitting clothes online, and settling for what she is sent. Today, it’s a stop at Victoria’s Secret. A proper measurement puts her at a 34DD, but she gets a couple 34Ds too, that really push them up. Bras and panties and some sexier gym gear, and she moves on to the boutiques. Jeans and tight pants, flashy dresses and serious but sexy suits, her credit card taking a beating as the day goes on. The trunk and backseat and passenger seat are full of the bags as she heads home, famished again.

She nearly sleeps through Friday, waking only to eat. When she wakes up Saturday afternoon, she’s fully transformed. The food was going to her thighs, she’s not a skinny runway model, they are toned and shapely, tapering up to a full and perky ass. No further changes to her belly, but she can feel new muscles lining her narrow back. Her arms are lithe and toned, her neck almost regal, her posture perfect. There is a bit more jiggle to the boobs, but they aren’t any bigger.

She feels the urge to join a gym, and goes to the chain gym on the next block. She’s in a pair of sports bras, her belly bared, and yoga pants that leave nothing to the imagination. Low socks leave her lower calves exposed, and cross trainers give her a bit of heel. She feels as much as sees the men turn and look as she signs up. After putting her bag in a locker, she brings her water and towel to a treadmill. Her brain won’t let her get on it, frozen like at Target. When she looks at the stair stepper, she can move again, stairs it is! Her legs pump and her ass works as she climbs the endless staircase, even the trainers are a bit impressed after her brutal half hour climb.

She is shown through the machines by a trainer, Tony. 6’3”, muscular, no wedding ring. Tony would be a dream, a fantasy for old Ana. But he asks for her number after the tour. She asks for his phone, and texts herself, saying “and now I’ve got your number.” She looks at him, he’s got an odd look on his face. He’s used to women wanting him, handsome and fit and charming. But his need is in his eyes, he really wants Ana. He asks if next Friday is good, she counters with tomorrow, Sunday. He almost stutters his “yes,” and they choose a nice restaurant to meet.

Ana walks in, 10 minutes after their scheduled time, she wants Tony to see her entrance. She looks like she has been poured into a teal short sleeve dress, every contour of her body teased behind the fabric. The color makes her warm brown eyes seem brighter, and her wavy hair splashes down the teal shoulder. Her heels are modest, keeping her a couple inches shorter than Tony. Tony looks astounding, he knows how to dress his muscular body, a polo accentuating shoulders and biceps. He’s shaved off yesterday’s stubble, and he’s a Greek god of a man. They enjoy a nice Italian dinner, Tony a bit concerned at the two extra sides of meatballs Ana devours. He asks if she’d like to come over for a drink, and she says yes, she would like that very much.

After a drink and more conversation, Ana runs a hand under Tony’s shirt, feeling his firm abs. She asks him to take it off, and he springs up to comply. He is a Greek god, or maybe Italian. Tan complexion, dark eyes, body chiseled from granite. He will do anything for Ana, she’s easily his match. She stands and kisses him, he kisses back. He’s the taller and stronger of the two, but she is making the moves, setting the pace, kissing him deeply and passionately as he makes a soft sound. She caresses him, admiring him with her hands while they kiss. His ass is firm and muscular. She lazily runs the back of her hand down his belly, continuing past his belt, feeling a twitch of his rapidly swelling member.

He pulls her dress up over her head and takes a beat to catch his breath. In heels, teal panties and a white bra, he’s never seen anything like Ana. She reaches back gracefully and unhooks her bra. Her tits jiggle a bit and drop as she lifts the bra up and off, teasingly. Perfectly tanned and exquisitely contoured, they are firm and soft, dark brown nipples pointed ever so slightly upward, seemingly huge against her narrow back and hourglass waist. She hooks her thumbs in her panties, shimmying them down and off, as she motions for Tony to get his pants off.

As she stands up, they are both nude, barring her heels. She steps into him, arm under his arm, pulling him close to kiss. She feels the heat of his body next to hers, his muscled chest pressing her soft breasts up even more. She feels a twitch of his cock against her hip, and wonders if he feels the heat of her pussy on his strong thigh. The kiss goes on, too long, as their bodies urge them to deeper needs.

She breaks the kiss and playfully pushes him back onto the bed. She finally kicks off her heels, and crawls onto the mattress. On his back, his cock is striving for attention, rock hard, and twitching with each heartbeat. He’s big. Not huge but big, and he seems reluctant to touch it himself. She has no such reservations. She crawls to him, and looks him in the eye as it throbs alongside her cheek. She holds it to her cheek, caressing it, and keeps eye contact until he makes a little sound. He wants it, is begging for her.

Ana kisses the top of his shaft, and takes his head into her mouth, and sucks deeply. Tony moans, and Ana begins to pleasure him. Old Ana did not like to give, or get, oral. New Ana enjoys it, and somehow knows how to do it right. She uses lips and tongue, expertly sucking, licking, stroking. She often looks up into Tony’s lost and bliss-dumb eyes as she pleasures him.

She swings herself around, into sixty-nine. She is already soaking wet, she doesn’t need to be eaten. She wants it, wants it from a deep place hidden in her mind. And she wants Tony to do it. She disengages from his big cock with a filthy “pop” sound, and breathily orders him “lick me.” He is not near as talented as she is at oral pleasure, but he makes up for it with puppy dog enthusiasm. He licks her up and down, and spends long minutes on her clit. As he first drives his tongue into her, she moans around his cock in her mouth, getting a tiny orgasm, an appetizer. Her moan gets a reaction from Tony, and some new instinct in her tells her to disengage.

She moves up, face to face, her slickness on his chin, his musk mixing with her scent. “Condom?” she asks, and he pulls one out of a drawer. Old Ana would have had sarcasm about the bulk box of condoms the handsome man had, new Ana appreciates an experienced partner. He expertly unrolls the extra large condom onto his veiny dick. Ana keeps him on his back, and straddles him.

She’s got her right hand with a firm grip on Tony’s cock, and she leans forward to kiss him. Tongues seeking each other, she guides his hard member into her now drenched lips. In the kiss, he makes a muffled “mmmmm” sound, while she makes a determined grunting moan. His dick is so warm inside her, on fire compared to the cold rubber of big Wally and little Mike, her only sex partners of the last 8 months. She breaks off the kiss to lean up, working his cock a bit deeper with each thrust. He’s closed his eyes, she hopes he’s not close to coming. She gets into a groove, and instead of her knees, gets her feet under her. She’s never done this before, but she is squatting onto his big hard dick, her firm ass clenched in his strong hands. His eyes pop open “we have to change positions.” He was close.

She dismounts, and his dick falls with a slap onto his leg. Ana swings around, and raises her ass high to Tony, and growls into the sheets “fuck me.” Tony is eager, and lines up behind Ana, driving deep in one long stroke. An “ugh” is forced from her lungs, the first of many. Her new body is flexible, before she could barely bend to 90 degrees at her waist. Now, her butt is high and perky under Tony’s rough hands, her chest and head are on the mattress, boobs squished wide every time Tony drives her forward.

She fucks back, a choreography, and feels an intensity building in her core. She says “faster” and feels Tony’s fingers dig into her hips as he pulls her back onto his hard cock, speed and sound increasing on each eager thrust. Ana feels the orgasm crest and break inside her, a wave spreading out from a spot that Tony’s dick has just massaged into bliss. The world goes white and silent for a moment, her senses overloaded by the powerful orgasm.

Sound returns first, muddy then turning clear, Tony’s groin slapping into her ass. Then sight, white sheets in her tanned fingers, boobs pressed into the mattress. Tony picks up more speed and finally jams himself deep into Ana, holding there, moaning, twitching, sweating. She wiggles her ass, squeezing him, one last sensation for his deflating erection. He pulls out with a pop, and flops onto the bed, exhausted.

She sits up, on crossed legs, and looks around. Tony’s room is a mess, and the man is used up. She runs a finger down his chest, feels his fluttering heart and rapid breath, even through all that muscle. He whimpers, too much stimulation.

She stands, and stretches. There is a sheen of lovemaking sweat on her, but other than that, she still looks like new Ana. An hour of athletic fucking, her hair is still perfect and her makeup unsmudged. She goes into the bathroom and begins washing. She pauses, puts her hands under the new boobs, and lets them drop and jiggle. She admires her ass and legs as she cleans herself. There is no more mouse, all that’s in the room is a queen.

She hears Tony stir and sit up, trying to be the guy, asking if she’s ok. She’s fine, when can he go again, she replies. He has no response, but she hears him exhale loudly, knowing he’s in for a long night. Tonight, new Ana is a goddess in this apartment. Tomorrow, she will quit her dead end job and find a better career, her anxiety and limits now gone. Goddess, Boss, Queen. And no more mouse.