Chapter Thirty-three
“But mine look different from yours!”
A disheartened Sammy stares into the mirror, his tone of voice once again that of a tempestuous child.
“And why must I wear these?” his question posed as a challenge.
‘These’ being clear glass bowls screwed onto his breast loops. Shaped to be more comely than the long, narrow vacuum cylinders worn in the infirmary, the smaller rounded enclosures make it appear that Sammy is wearing a brassier of glass. Clearly displayed beneath are his new breasts. The coverings are smaller in size requiring the hillocks beneath to be stuffed most tightly and accentuating the newly acquired girth of his glands. And the reason they look different from mine, putting aside the skin tone, is that his long n*****s, swollen and always ready to let do
