August 2nd.

Since I can go out now during the day without either been struck rigid or coming unglued, I have been sneaking to the library to look into this problem of ours. Jurgen bitches and moans about being stuck in bed at home, but I remind him of what it was like for me, and he is shamed into silence. I have to wear a long coat, slacks, a wide-brimmed hat, and sunglasses if it's bright outside, but I manage. A little light still falls on my face, and it feels very nice of course, but I can ignore it enough to function.

I found some interesting stuff in the medical stacks though. Hormones. It seems that some hormones given to women for other purposes were noted to increase vaginal secretions as a side effect. The only trouble is, how in hell do we get hormones without a prescription. I'm sure they'd be awfully curious about why the esteemed (and very male) physicist wanted female hormones. Sigh.

August 8th.

It seems that many of the simpler female hormones are also given to animals (human hormones work on animals? Hard to believe, but.). I am looking into this.

Jurgen is keeping busy by ordering some custom garments and toys for us from some of our favorite catalogs. He won't tell me what they are, and his mischief is refreshing to me- at least he's in good spirits, generally.

August 11th.

Yes, there are human hormones being given to cattle, and yes, I have managed to score some from a veterinary supply store, although the clerk there gave me some strange looks. I tried dressing as "hick" as I could, but I don't think she believe me. I have what appears to be a huge supply, and the shelf life if refrigerated is years_. I haven't told Jurgen, he'd flip if he knew I was going to inject myself with hormones hormones not approved for human use. I've stripped some of the warning labels off the bottle.

August 17th.

Jurgen is back at work. That about says it all. And I need to go lie out in the sun- I'm bushed. My hubby wore me out last night, but he also seems to have had his fill. He went a little nuts, and at one point he was just grinning up at me, wild-eyed, as he shuddered and quaked on the bed. He looked like some crazed drug fiend, but he was hale and healthy, and he proved it several times last night. Wow! We're back in the saddle again, it seems! The only side effect I've noticed from the hormones has been a slight tenderness in my breasts- at least, I assume it's the hormones- I don't have any lumps. It's not painful, but I hope it goes away. If it doesn't, I'll go in for x-rays. I should add that while the hormones have increased my secretion a little, it hasn't been a whole lot. Jurgen had more energy this morning, but he still seemed a little tired (probably because he spent all his energy wearing ME out last night, the brute!), but really, it seems as though he gets more fun and stimulation, than real nutrition or energy from eating me.

August 19th.

The tenderness in my breasts hasn't gone away, in fact if anything, it's gotten worse, and they have begun to feel a bit swollen and taught. I went to the clinic this morning, and they took x-rays, but they showed nothing suspicious or unhealthy. They wanted to do a complete physical, but I immediately imagined myself the center of a major medical inquiry, locked in a lab somewhere. I panicked and got out of there as fast as I could without raising suspicion. I am not sure, but I think they (my breasts) have grown some, too. I'm relieved, but still concerned. Jurgen came home pretty tired today, and it was all I could do to hold up my end in bed. I was still tired (and sore, I admit) from the night before! We are having sex more often and longer, than we ever did, even when everything was normal, just to keep him up and going. Despite that, he is still not back up to full steam.

August 20th.

Dear Diary,

Mystery solved, with happy consequences. I am lactating! Jurgen was sucking on my nipples last night, and to his surprise, got milk. And guess what! It seems to be even more energizing (if not nearly so stimulating) as my come, and he swears it is delicious and better than cow's milk. I tried some, and was unimpressed- very sweet, though. The greedy hunk sucked me dry though, and low and behold, the discomfort disappeared. I guess I know something of what it feels like to be a mommy now. Oh, and they are quite definitely larger, probably from all that milk they have to store.

Today, a package arrived in the mail from one of our fetish goods suppliers, but Jurgen had anticipated it's arrival and forbade me to open it. He said it wasn't finished, and he would have to work on it before he would be ready to show it off. I think I know something of what he is up to. This evening, he took off for work on the excuse that he had left some important papers at the office. After he left, I noticed the parcel was missing. Men are so transparent.

When he got back, he finally revealed what he had done. He had had two pairs of custom "adoration breeches" made- those rubber pants with a hood attached at the crotch, so someone can be "forced" to service you orally. These were mutually useful, in that the helmet was attached upside-down, so that two people could be wearing each_other's breeches! They are made of very heavy rubber, and have plenty of breathing holes around the crotch and nose. Plus, he took one of his own suits to work and exposed it to the same program. We tested these toys out and they all work in exactly the same fashion as my suit used to.

Speaking of that suit, he has finished putting in the new zipper, which is small but strong, and air-tight- it's made for diver's "dry suits". He will expose the suit tomorrow during lunch. He is getting quite brazen, I think, but he seems worried about getting access to the machine- apparently the higher-ups are tightening security. Seems asinine to me, after all, he invented the thing!

I can't wait to try these new things of his this weekend!

Anyway, I'm very happy to see him rosy-cheeked and brimming over with energy.

August 23rd

Dear Diary. It is Sunday, a day of rest for both Christians and my husband and I. It is also a day to reflect on bad news, and our very good luck. Friday, Jurgen took my suit and a whole pile of other things into work in that huge briefcase of his. He got them modified all right, and back into his case, but he also got caught by one of the new managers who demanded to know what he was doing in that part of the lab.

My dear retorted, rather hotly of course, that he had developed that machine, and he had more right to be there than the paper pusher did. That was when the general walked in. That's right, general, as in Army officer. It seems that some word had gotten out, the military had got wind of his little invention, and the place was crawling with military spook-types. They were sewing the project up tight as fast as they could.

He barely made it off the site with the goodies without getting his bags inspected, but the guards are just rent-a-cops so far, and they aren't used to the new procedures they are supposed to be following. In other words, he got lucky.

Jurgen has already protested bitterly about the militarization of the project and the lab, but I think he realizes it was only a matter of time. He has threatened to quit his job, which means retirement really, which I wouldn't mind one bit, but I don't think they are taking him seriously. I know better- I saw the expression on his face while he was yelling at the senior lab manager on the phone Friday night.

Anyway, we spent a delightful day lying in the sun yesterday. Sounds so peaceful and innocent, doesn't it? Hee-hee! Of course, what really happened was much more prurient, and if the truth be told, quite out of the realm of everyday human sensuality. I think most people would have considered it a religious experience. What we shared yesterday, the places we reached inside each other, cannot be expressed in words. I'll explain it in physical terms though, just to get the hot little details down between your steaming pages.

As I wrote here before, Jurgen had made (or rather, had ordered) those two pairs of adoration pants from Remma-wear, and had modified his own suit with the DSM to be just like mine. We experimented with it some on Friday night, during a little stress-relief session of love making. His suit is just like mine used to be, neck-entry, which can be used with different hoods. Naturally, he exposed several hoods and the suit separately, so we wouldn't wind up with the material flowing together like mine did. I wonder how. oh, never mind.

In any case, I picked up two breast pumps, those things nursing mothers sometimes use, and Jurgen has made a bizarre "milking machine" brassiere out of them. They are built into an old heavy-gauge rubber brassier of mine, with the original cups removed. He's attached hoses to each one, which go to a small suction pump and some kind of valve that pulses the suction. The thing felt weird yet wonderful at first, and seemed to make my breasts swell up even more, but once the milk started flowing, it was a great relief- now I can milk myself and save it for him for later. Which is precisely what I had done Friday night- saved a whole pitcher of milk. Jurgen has always been the top in our relationship, which is fine with me, but he agreed to let me put him in his "rigidized" suit, just to see what it was like. (We found out, a little to his chagrin, that light falling on the suit doesn't do a thing for him, as mine does for me, but that's small loss considering what he does have that I don't.)

So anyway, I had a brainstorm, and fetched the milk. Not only did I pour it into the suit with him, letting him squirm around in it for a while, but I hooked up an enema bag and hose, ran it into his helmet in place of the breathing tube, and "force fed" him his dinner. He loved it! From the noises he was making, I'm sure he would have been thrashing around if it hadn't been for the solid restraint of his suit. Later, he told me that even having the milk against his skin had felt wonderful, with powerful tingling sensations and flashes of sexual warmth coming from his skin, as if he was absorbing it without even swallowing it. Well who knows, maybe he is. He said he came for what felt like minutes.

The breast size thing is starting to bug me, however. When I milked myself yesterday, I gave more milk than I ever have before and yet looking in the mirror afterwards, I realized my tits were bigger still_, even though I had drained them completely. I have already reduced the hormone dosage, because I'm quite happy with them the way they are. Of course, Jurgen, being somewhat of a breast fetishist, is tickled pink.

So anyway, I haven't described Saturday yet, our big day of decadence. We had planned it all the night before, lying in bed and talking after our little session Friday. We got up early, just before dawn in fact, and made our preparations. We took a big air mattress that we used to keep around for guests out onto the back lawn, laid blankets out and so forth, and then got dressed. We each put on our special suits, and one pair of the adoration breeches, and went outside to await the sunrise.

As the sky grew lighter, I grew lighter-headed, and before the sun was even up, it was becoming very difficult to concentrate on the job at hand, and both our suits were becoming slightly stiff. We moved fast. I lay on my back on the mattress, while Jurgen crawled on top and astride me, then we each struggled into the helmet of the other's adoration pants.

We moved around a bit, getting comfortable, each of us with the other's sex in our mouth, while the sky grew lighter and the suits and pants got stiffer. In minutes, we were trapped, the rubber turned rigid, and as the first rays of the direct sun fell on me, I completely forgot what I had filling my mouth. I was in ecstasy again. Of course, as part of that, I lubricated freely, and Jurgen slurped it up greedily, his groans and moans reaching me faintly through the layers of rubber and my own personal haze of pleasure. At some point, I remember felating him in a distracted sort of way, and I know we both came many, many times that day, some of those times seeming to blur into one long, continuous, and simultaneous orgasm for both of us. We must have made one very bizarre looking piece of lawn sculpture, had anyone been able to see us.

By the time we could move again, as the last shreds of daylight fled from our lawn, we were both physical and emotional wrecks- very happy, sated, but utterly drained and exhausted.

Which delightful state we are still in today. A deep lassitude and happy paralysis having taken us, we are lazing around in bed, not really wanting to do anything at all. Jurgen is sketching, toying with some new ideas for bondage gear, although it seems obvious that we will no longer have access to the DSM, while I am writing in your cherished pages. My eyes are getting heavy again though, so I think I shall close for today. Right now, I feel like napping.

September 19th.

Well now. I seem to have a dilemma. My breasts have continued to develop at an alarming rate, considering how few days have passed. I have gone from a D cup to a DDD in less than a month. I'm not sure if that would normally be possible, even with the hormones, but of course, I no longer have what anyone would call a normal physiology. I have had to change bra sizes twice in thirty days, and while the cost is no problem for us, I'm wondering where it will all stop! It is good that so much of my kinky wardrobe is made from latex, which has tremendous stretch, since I am busting out of many of my leather outfits. I have reduced the hormone dosage even further, and Jurgen has begun to complain that I'm not secreting enough for him, but I don't know what to do. I can't just keep getting larger, can I?

PS: Jurgen quit his job at the lab. We are now the youngest retired couple I know of, and very happy at that. They seem to have wanted to buy his silence, since they offered him a huge "bonus" for his work on the machine. He was going to refuse, out of anger and pride, but I talked some sense into him, pointing out that we could retire quite comfortably on that amount alone, and that having it on top of his handsome retirement income would make life very comfortable indeed.

September 29th.

Ten days, and another cup size. This is getting ridiculous. I'm huge! I haven't gained any weight any where else, even though that is a common side effect of these hormones, according to the books. My breasts are now the size of honeydew melons, and my chest is some 50 inches around. I can't find any brassieres in town that are large enough. Fortunately, one of the foundation shops gave me the address and phone number of a company that hand makes odd and extra large sizes, but when I called them, their prices were so high, Jurgen commented that I might as well just have custom made rubber and leather bras made. I think I'll do both- after all, I can go out again now, (although we are still debating how to handle my reappearance) and I'd like to have some normal bras as well, since wearing fetish clothes all the time takes away from their spice- one gets used to them.

It is good that Jurgen bought the larger size of breast pumps (which he made into my "milking machine") because I am nearly filling them now.

October 8th.

No noticeable change in breast size this week. I am keeping my fingers crossed. Jurgen is having to make do with less from my sex, but he gets more real nourishment from my milk anyway. As my bust size has grown, it has become more and more pleasurable to be milked, to the point that I nearly go out of my head with arousal and lust during the procedure- I came just from having my breasts pumped today! What's worse (or better, depending on how you look at it) is that my milk production seems to have gone up proportionately to my bust size, so that I now need milking at least twice a day. I feel like a dairy cow! Jurgen is delighted with my new figure (he would be) and I admit, I am getting used to it, although I still feel like a freak of nature. I have kept the rest of me in shape though, and when corsetted, I cut a very imposing, if somewhat unbelievable figure!

We have decided to announce to friends and family that we are getting back together, that the "divorce" was all a horrible mistake, and that my ridiculous breast enlargement is the result of a rare hormonal disorder. I hope they buy it. If not, they can just wonder, because they'll never hear the truth from us!

My sweet heart finally got around to showing off some of the other items he had "treated" with the DSM before they shut him out of the lab. The most striking was the clear rubber suit. He had made one of my regular suits crystal clear, just like that sample he had done. It's weird and eerie- when I wear it, it looks like I've been coated with glass. We both love the look.

Another interesting pair are the gloves and stockings. Remember that inverted form of the light-sensitive rubber he came up with? He dialed that in and treated a pair of my thicker gloves, and a pair of old but heavy gauge stockings. He also treated a thick rubber leotard with the other program. So if I wear them, I can move my arms and legs when the light is on, but my torso is held rigid. When the light goes out, they turn rigid, and my torso is free to bend.

This morning he had me put my suit on, put one stocking on my right leg, and one glove on the left arm, then commanded me to make brunch. But the fiend had turned all the lights in the house topsy-turvy, with one room dark, blinds drawn, and the next brightly lit. Imagine trying to walk around like that, when one leg and one arm is stuck in one position for a while, and moments later, they are free and the others are stuck! The kitchen was worse (and even more comical to watch I am sure) since we have track lighting there, and he had turned them in all different directions, but had taken the bulbs out of the main area lights.

Needless to say, I was hot, tired and frustrated by the time the food was ready, but the dear rewarded me nicely this afternoon however, so I have forgiven him.

November 11th.

We have decided to move. Jurgen is afraid we will both find ourselves in hot water, if the truth is ever discovered about the changes he has wrought in our physiologies. The house is on the market, and as soon as it is sold, we are moving to Amsterdam. Life has gotten awfully busy as a result, so this may be the last entry in a long while.

fini