Quantum Tatas Pt. 02

Two days earlier, Dixie stood on a wood chair in her kitchen. Her lips pursed around the base of a light bulb in her mouth. She reached her arms up to a burnt-out bulb mounted overhead.

Feeling vertigo, she murmured a steadying whine through her light bulb gag, lowered her arms then carefully balanced herself again before attempting to reach up - an action that lifted her naughty nighty above her hips, revealing her lacey panties underneath.

She hated heights. She stopped to debate her actions. Maybe she should have taken off the high heels? She looked down at her new shoes centered on the creaking wood chair. Nah, she thought: keep 'em on - for sure-zies. What could go wrong? She reached up again and twisted a burnt bulb loose. She had been going through a lot of light bulbs lately. All week, in every room she entered, she felt static electricity when flipping on a switch.

"Got ya's, ya little sucker," she mumbled, almost spitting out the new bulb. The screw-in gag slightly muffled her bubbly voice as she finished twisting the glass globe above. She paused. Again steadying herself, she lowered an arm and tried to switch the bulb from her mouth to a free hand.

A stiletto heel popped to the side.

"Ah!" she screamed, throwing her body backwards. She grabbed the light fixture, yanking it out of the ceiling. Sparks flew. The bulb in her mouth did a camera flash. She hit the kitchen floor hard.

Several moments passed.

"Oh god, where am I?"

She found herself on her back, her head and shoulders up against the refrigerator. She spat the bulb out of her mouth. It rolled down, stopping with a rocking motion to rest on her double-D bosom, centered between her soft supple pillows.

A high pitch tone rang in her ears, but she hadn't hit her head - too hard anyway. How important could that be anyway? She felt around her skull. Her hair was fine at least, and nothing was broken. She smiled. She checked her hair again. Yep, it was fine. The new bulb was fine too. She put it back between her plump lips. Definitely something to learn here, she thought: keep her weight even on her heels when standing on the chair. She got up to try again.

The next day at work, the high pitch sound increased. At times, it seemed to become a low buzzing sound felt inside her chest. Most times it rang in her ears. As she tended to visitors in a large office building lobby; she found herself shaking her head, wanting to clear her ears, and doing exaggerated yawning motions with her jaw. There was no relief.

"You a swimmer?" asked a male visitor.

"What?" said Dixie.

"You look like you're trying to shake water out of your ears."

His eyes did what other guys do. They glanced down at her chest. One-Mississippi. Two-Mississippi. Back up. Why did guys do that? After all, she had a brain - and new eye make-up too, but no comments so far on that. Of course, she had a massive new boob job. But come on. Eye contact. She looked away annoyed. Then again it was nice that he cared so much in his own special way. She smiled and looked sideways back at him. He walked into a doorframe - poor thing, she thought.

On the bus home, Dixie squeezed into a seat between a bearded hipster and grumpy businesswoman. The buzzing sound returned. Dixie raised her delicate fingers up the row of buttons stopping where her blouse struggled to close, where she proudly realized that for this snug blouse the opened top buttons could never meet ever again - not with her new boob job. Straining ripples of white silk blouse bridged her new mountain peeks making it clear that she had blossomed in a blonde sort of way, with silicone.

Her fingertips felt the buzz again. It became a deep vibration. Looking down at her cleavage, her boobs actually looked blurry. Dixie squinted, her eyes fixated on her exposed soft shelf of skin. She realized that she could set her purse on this rack - wait, back to the odd vibration. Maybe - and she thought this had to be the one true answer - the bumps in the road could make her bigger chest jiggle. Maybe this was the price for perfection? Then again, not like this. This was the tiniest fastest of all jiggles ever, more like a vibration. Squinting harder and with a few glances around the bus, which she could see in total clarity, it wasn't her eyesight. Nothing else buzzed in a blur like her chest. She peered down again, pursing her lips in the deepest of thoughts - pensive for her anyway - so she could really study the situation.

Her boobs really were buzzing.

She felt it in her ribcage now. She wanted to pull off her clothes and grab hard onto her enhanced self and squeeze, but she wasn't alone. Also everyone was already looking at her. She hated their judgmental looks. What was wrong with fine fashion? And, no, not all blondes were dumb! She cupped her breasts and looked down at her cleavage. "Wooh," was all she said. It was like hearing a late night party through a cheap apartment wall. She looked up again. Now even the bus driver had stopped to stare. Fuck them. She ogled down again giving herself a squeezing support. The feeling was like her vibrator, but inside her chest. Maybe if she had pushed three dildos up inside herself, and forgot to remove them, then - well - that would have explained it, but a series of vibrators go up inside along her spin could not go up that deep. Could they? Surely, it would hurt when pushing opening the cervix. Her fingers prodded her midriff. How far up was her cervix anyway?

Dixie focused her eyes again, ignored her fellow passengers, and starred at the tops of her boobs. Her head tilted a bit like a cat looking at a dangling string. She was thinking - thinking hard.

The bus started moving. The grumpy businesswoman turned away in agitation. The hipster obliviously continued to text on his phone. Some huffy women left before their normal stops. All the men stayed, many actually remaining well beyond their normal stops.

She squeezed her boobs hard. Her bright red painted nails surrounded the round perimeter outlined by her blouse. She undid a couple more buttons. The lace of her new white bra showed. The voluminous flesh buzzed more. It tingled her fingertips. It was like the time she had sex on a table saw while it was cutting lumber. The pulsation was drastically less than the time she had sex sitting on the handles of a jackhammer. That didn't work out at all. Poor guy.

Oh, but it was more than the time she fingered herself as she road a Harley behind a long ago boyfriend, who never realize what she was doing behind him as they swerved between cars stuck in traffic. She hated that ride - until she started to touch herself. Oh god, that was good.

She looked up.

Fellow bus passengers tried to look away as if they never notice her. Yeah right. Her eyes glared at them: you were looking. She knew it - oh, wait. More vibrations.

"Hm," she huffed, annoyed at her audience. For some reason, people always found her fascinating. She stopped cupping her boobs, switching to what she thought made a clear sophisticated regal appearance for a woman, done by keeping her chin up and raising her eyebrows. She pretended as if nothing concerned her.

Buzzzzzzz.

She ignored her vibrating chest, but then she realized she couldn't any longer.

Did others hear it too?

She didn't own three vibrators, so the idea of accidentally pushing a chain of them high up inside her body was out.

That's when it hit her. It was so clear now. The blasted doctor! She heard stories of doctors messing up surgeries before. Her doctor had left something inside her when doing her boobs, her new gorgeous boobs. But what? Her bimbo mind struggled. The dickhead must have accidentally dropped a cell phone inside her. It was obviously on vibrate and they were calling after all this time. They wanted their phone back. She looked down at her chest again. Did he drop in two phones in there?

Others bus passengers looked too. One man stood to get a better angle.

*****

"Excuse me," said Dixie to a pharmacist. "Do you have one of those step-a-scope thingies?" She motioned to her ears and then quickly crossed her arms over her vibrating chest. The buzz switched to a muffled hum. She got an odd look back, but she was slowly getting used to that.

"If you mean stethoscopes, we just have the toy ones by the games and puzzles isle," he replied then adding, "You know, by the cheap toys, like the plastic handcuffs."

Dixie wondered why he felt the need to add that last bit?

"Got it," she said curtly.

As she clicked her heels down the isles, her tight pencil skirt and thin silk blouse drew attention from the customers she passed. Or maybe it was her frazzled look as she kept looking down into her cleavage.

Moments later, Dixie carried her purchase to a nearby bus stop. She sat in the half open shelter on its sectioned bench designed to prevent vagrants from stretching out to sleep overnight. She struggled to open a molded plastic packaging of a plastic pink toy stethoscope. Her elbows squeezed her hefty quaking flesh as her forearms awkwardly pointed up and her dainty hands, right above her push-up bra shelf of flesh, mangled the nearly indestructible wrapping. She fought the impenetrable packaging for several minutes. Others waiting didn't bother to offer help. Maybe watching her slapping the packaging against the metal bench was just too entertaining to interrupt.

After she freed the pink toy inside, an old man fell off the last seat in the hut when she pressed the stethoscope's listening end to the top of her breasts.

"Oh no!" she exclaimed. "The doctor did loose a cell phone! Who am I talking too?"

Another man leaned around a pole to leer into the sheltered area.

Dixie turned her head away and whispered, "Why are you calling me?" She paused. "Say something. " She sat more on the edge of the seat now. Distracted and distraught, she stretched her legs out, jamming her heels in to the sidewalk, knees wide apart. She concentrated, trying to listen. "I know you're there - I mean, do you realize where you are? Stop chirping. Speaky the Englishy." She crossed her legs when she realized she might be aiming her short skirt at the cop across the street. He seemed to be trying to line up his eyes for a view.

She readjusted the listening piece and then tried the other boob. "Oh my god. There are two phones!" She stood appalled giving one foot a firm stomp. She took the earpieces out and yelled into each end as she pressed the pink cone against her double-D chest. "Please, stop calling. I can't talk right now. Leave a message!"

She plugged her stethoscope into her ears and listened to her left boob.

"She's nuts," said a woman walking away.

Dixie yelled back, "The doctor dropped cellphones in my implants!" She shrugged with a gesture as if it was so obvious. She looked at her boobs again. "No. I'm not talking to you. What are you saying? No comprendo. Fucking chirp noises. Don't get angry. I was talking to..." and with a thrust of her chest in the direction of the departing woman. "...her!"

*****

"I assure you," said the doctor, "that no one has left any electronic devices in your implants."

"I swear there were two little voices talking to me," said Dixie, feeling cold in her hospital smock, a fake robe with no way to close it in the back. She tugged at it, trying to keep warm. It was hopeless. "They keep calling, buzzing, talking."

"Look if we do an x-ray, you'll only see a foggy pattern from the silicon breast implants. Here, I'll have the nurse do an ultrasound. Would that make you feel better?"

"Yes. You'll see. I'm hearing real voices. Just listen again. They'll talk. Maybe if I squeeze harder?" Her hands grabbed in front like an NBA star stealing a ball. Her cleavage deepened.

The doctor nodded to placate the patient. "I'll get a nurse to help you."

"You don't believe me. Do you?" Her hands fell to her sides. Her boobs jiggled.

The doctor slowly shied away, stepping backwards to the escape door and made his exit.

When a nurse arrived, Dixie knew the look. Women always made that judgmental look. What was wrong with looking good? Dixie lowered the front of her smock and felt the ultrasound goo squirt across her chest. The nurse pressed the ultrasound wand down against a boob.

"I don't see any foreign bodies," said the nurse.

The buzzing started. It got louder.

"Eeee!" screeched Dixie with glee. "See?" She shoved her chest out further offering more surface area to scan.

"Do you hear that?" asked Dixie. "See, I'm not making it up."

The nurse's latex gloved hands pressed down on the blonde's perky prow. "Oh my god, there is a vibration." She felt the flesh some more, squeezing it between her fingers, poking at times. "I, um, should get the doctor."

"I have a step-o-scope," said Dixie, holding up her pink toy.

"I forgot mine. Sorry, that's a toy." The nurse turned her head and pressed an ear against the blonde's bare chest.

A jolt hit.

The nurse suddenly dropped to the floor.

"Ah!" screamed Dixie.

The doctor ran in. "What happened?"

"She passed out!"

Another nurse joined.

Dixie stood, fumbling to cover her breasts with the stupid medical smock. Electricity jolted her and shot blue branching lighting out from her chest, knocking the doctor and the extra nurse unconscious. Overhead lights burst. The ultrasound machine burned and electrical outlets spurted blue sparks. The room went dark.

Dixie closed her smock in the back and kept her arms crossed over her chest as if that would keep the electricity inside her. Emergency lights turned on. She pulled her arms away to check her chest. Her nipples poked through two burnt holes in her smock.

There were no more lighting bolts.

She grabbed her purse, blouse, and bra. Carefully stepping over the unconscious bodies, she pulled hard on the door to slide a body away just enough to get out. The first nurse shook violently, drooling. The other two remained motionless.

Voices entered Dixie's mind. The power behind them ate into her soul.

"Stop!" she yelled at the ceiling. "You're hurting me."

She felt the voices retreat.

Some of the nurse's knowledge entered her thoughts. She felt a request from the voices, an idea, a notion of something to get. She ran down the hallway, stopped at an electrical box. Not knowing how or why she felt this need, but she opened the small metal door. All the switches were off. She began flipping them on. Each circuit breaker took effort to flip open. Lights flickered on. A plastic burning smell filled the hallway.

Quickly she click-clacked her heels in a fast trot down to an x-ray room. There was a table and an overhead box. She didn't know how, but she knew what to do. In the hallway, she set a dial, cranked it up, and pressed some buttons. Hearing the machine start a continual low hum, she ran in to the room and lay on the table. She aimed her tits up at the overhead device. Electrical bolts danced all around the room, searching across her body. The overhead x-ray droned and shook. A glow surrounded her, protecting her and focusing the energy somewhere, someplace. She lifted her head to watch as she pleaded, "What's happening?!"

She tried to calm herself as a field of energy washed over her body; warmth and love and a nice tingle in her nipples - plus she giggled, "Mm, downstairs too." She wanted to touch herself. "Mmmmm. Finally, something good today."

*****

Later, three gurneys removed the bodies of the doctor and two nurses.

Policemen filled the hallways of the small medical office.

Outside in a Prius, Marcy sat in the driver's seat waiting for Bob to finish downloading images through a hacked wifi connection.

"The x-ray is digital," said Bob. "I've got it. Shit. They're they are. They're active."

Marcy looked at an x-ray image showing two complex glowing nebulas contained in two round orbs. "Where do you think she went? Maybe..."

A dark SUV suddenly rear-ended the Prius jerking it forward several feet.

"They're onto us!" yelled Bob. "Hit the gas! Floor it!"

"It's a Prius!" yelled Marcy, struggling with putting the car in gear. They lurched forward and she gunned the engine sending the hybrid jalopy forward and down a narrow alley of dumpsters.

The SUV hit them again as the two vehicles rounded a corner.

*****

"Who are you?" yelled Dixie to her boobs. She sat on a floor, tucking herself in a corner by an oversized sink in a dark janitor's closet somewhere in a building she ran into, hoping to hide. She wore her skirt, heels, and the medical smock. She felt for her silk blouse in her purse, wanting to cover herself with some real clothes.

She could feel a more elusive vibration now.

Giving up no her blouse, she grabbed her pink toy stethoscope from her purse. With shaking hands, she pressed the listening end down on her breasts.

A robotic voice spoke back. "I scanned the human nurse. I can communicate now."

Dixie pressed against the other boob. A more feminine robotic voice spoke. "I have scanned the nurse. I can now..."

"I know. I know," whispered Dixie. "I get it, you can talk." She listened for a couple seconds. Her boobs asked her something. She responded, "No, that was not good. The nurse looked like you had fried her brains. No, frying brains is not good. Don't you dare scan me. It felt like you were sucking my mind out and I don't have much there anyways." She switched to the left boob. "What? You're in my chest. Yes, that's where you are - my brand new expensive perfectly tweaked-out chest. No, I'm not a god. If I were, it would be goddess." Another pause, more listening. "I don't care if the nurse went to church. No, I'm not a Cathedral. I just want you to go away. You need more data? Fiber optic connections? A switch? I'm not a hub, bub." She moved to the other boob. "I'm not a network switch. I'm telling you - I'm totally hetro or do you mean a Dom-sub switch? Datacenter? Gees, where do I go for that? Well, I'm sorry, but I need my clothes first. I'm topless. Oh, man! I have a run in my nylons." She pointed a leg up into the air and stroked around her long thigh with a free hand. "What? Yes, of course it's important."

She bit her lower lip while listening some more. Then she got annoyed. "Yeah, I am like totally your goddess, so you two need take some of my input. Huh? Yeah. Thought so. You bitches better listen to me now - and all my plans."

She gazed upwards at the ceiling of the janitor's closet. It was as if she saw some grand future, a master strategy, a clear vision, a concise course of action. She looked down again. "Um. So. Uh. What should I do now?"