The gravel crunched under the wheels of Helena's truck as she crawled down the driveway to Mr Gartside's house. Lime trees lined the track and a sign reminded tradesmen to keep to 10 mph. She doubted the effectiveness of this warning.

It was an idyllic scene. A lovely old Georgian farmhouse surrounded by well-maintained gardens, a Victorian brick-built stable yard, manicured riding school and of course, a swimming pool and tennis court. Textbook wealth. Mr Gartside's two daughters had a childhood all girls dreamed of. Now they were at university, it was mostly there for show, although they liked to ride their horses during the holidays.

Helena parked up in the yard and started removing her kit from the boot. Dental work today, nothing too taxing if the horse wasn't a dick.

"Good Morning, Helena! Welcome back," said Mr Gartside, emerging from around the corner, steaming mug of tea in hand. "How are you?" He thrust the mug into her hands.

"It was no sugar, right?"

She smiled. "Yes, Mr Gartside, well remembered. Hopefully a simple case today?"

"Just Bertie's teeth. Something's causing him jip from the rear molars, I think."

"Sounds normal for a horse his age. Can you bring him out and I'll take a look?" He walked off to one of the stables and returned leading Bertie.

"Right, here you are. He should behave himself. Any issues just shout. I'll be in my office running through my casework. Pop over when you're done."

Half an hour later Helena roamed into the capacious house. Finding his office was harder than expected, it had so many rooms and she felt self-conscious about treading dirt from the yard into the obviously priceless floor.

"In here, Helena," called Gartside, hearing her footsteps on the floorboards. "All done?"

Helena poked her head into his office. As expected, it was huge. He was sitting at a large, dark desk near the windows overlooking the lawn. He peered around the side of a monitor, a bundle of papers in his hand.

"Ah found you. Yes, all done. Just a floating needed - he had some sharp edges rubbing his gums so I've shaved them down. He'll probably need them looked at again in a few months but otherwise no other issues that I could see"

"Fantastic. Do I owe you anything now or is that sorted later?" he said, putting down his papers and walked to the door.

"No, nothing now. The office will send over an invoice in a couple of weeks."

"Great. Well, I'll show you out if that's all. Thanks for coming by."

Helena hesitated. Now was the moment she had been preparing herself for for the last two weeks.

"Actually, there was one thing I did want to ask you. I hope it isn't inappropriate."

Gartside's eyebrows raised in expectation that 'inappropriate' was exactly what he was going to be asked.

"A friend of mine had a breast augmentation performed by you last year and recommended you. I was wondering whether I could book a consultation with you." Confusion then relief washed over his face.

"Oh thank God I thought you were going to ask something entirely different!" he laughed. "Of course you can. Let me just get the calendar up." He moved back to his desk and started clicking the mouse. "Whilst we wait for that to load, who recommended me?" he asked.

"Sarah Kagan," she replied.

"Sarah? Hmm...oh about a year ago? Quite tall? Blonde? 30s?"

"That's her."

"Yes I remember her. She was quite keen on a certain look. Well, I'm happy she's happy with the result. Not to everyone's taste but I was proud of my work there. I'm quite partial to creating that...erm, look. Ahem. Right, here we go." He clicked a few more times, frowning.

"Sorry, Helena but it looks like I'm booked up for months for a consultation. We're still clearing the backlog after the Junior Doctors went on strike so I've fewer days of private consulting than normal. Unless...when's your next appointment?"

"I have an hour aside for lunch so it's not for another hour and a half actually."

"In which case, I'll see you now if that works?"

"Oh, erm yes that would be great," she said, taken aback. "Sorry but just to check. How much is a consult?"

"For you - gratis! Honestly, it's no bother and you've done a good job on the horses for the last few months. It's the least I can do. So, do you know what you're looking for?"

She took a breath. It was now or never.

"Big and round. You know, like a pornstar's." She gestured with her hands. Gartside was obviously surprised by this but his professionalism kicked in and he kept a straight face.

"Of course. Well, you'll be wanting High or Ultra High Profile then. Regarding volume, we normally measure this in cc's although I should warn you that these pornstars often have upwards of 800cc, whilst for a first augmentation you will be limited to far less than this due to skin tightness. Do you have any idea of the size you want to achieve?"

"Just the maximum I can at the moment," she replied.

"I'd be careful saying that - some people have 4000cc. A wrong word and you could end up with breasts bigger than your head!" he chuckled. "Let's have a look at what we have to work with. If you could remove your top and pop it over there please."

She lifted off her top and sports bra and stood awkwardly before him in her riding jodhpurs and boots and her small breasts exposed.

"Right. Not bad. We have something to work with here."

Helena endured five minutes of his prodding, pulling, measuring and marking up her breasts. Mr Gartside then moved to his cabinets where he pulled out three sample implants and placed them on the desk.

"These are three Ultra High Profile implants to give you examples of size. On the left is 350cc, in the middle is 400cc, and on the right you have 450cc. That's the maximum I would recommend and even then I think you'd be better off with 400cc at the most. These are all silicone filled which should give the feel of regular breasts. Alternatively you could use saline but I only think this is useful at very large sizes."

Helena leaned forwards and picked up the 450cc implant in her hands. She squeezed it, feeling the weight in her hands. Imagining this inside her was exhilarating although she had no idea how it could possibly fit.

"Also with the active lifestyle you have I would place these above the muscle, as opposed to under. There's a chance of seeing rippling at certain angles but it should be best for achieving the fake look you are looking for.

She placed the implant back down. The other two options looked small in comparison, and Sarah's words of advice to go big were in her mind. The choice was clear.

"I've decided. That's the size for me," she said, pointing at the 450cc implant. "When can you fit me in?"

"We haven't even got to payment options yet," he said, taken aback. "Are you certain? This is a big decision and at that size, they will impact your life. Not just physically, but how people react to you too. These will be very noticeable. You're also going to need to invest in a good sports bra for your riding."

She smiled. "I'm sure. I've done my research. I understand the consequences."

"In which case I'll pass the details on to my secretary who'll call you back with an appointment." He leant in closer and with a wink whispered, "They'll look great. You won't regret it."

"Hello?"

"Hi, is that Helena speaking? This is Cherie, Mr Gantside's secretary."

"Oh yes hello, Cherie. Are you calling about my surgery date?"

"Yes. Look, we've had a last minute cancellation. Mr Gartside is wondering if you would consider an appointment tomorrow morning?"

Helena paused. Tomorrow morning! It had only been a day since seeing Mr Gartside and she hadn't even thought about booking the time off work yet. But then again, this was an opportunity she couldn't miss. Time to 'catch' COVID again.

"Absolutely. Yes, I'm available," she replied.

"Oh good. You're all booked in. We'll see you tomorrow at 9am. Please remember not to eat after midnight tonight and get a good night's sleep."

Helena put down the phone and jumped for joy. This was it. She opened WhatsApp and messaged Sarah - '450cc. Tomorrow morning. Wish me luck!' and prepared for bed.

The nurse led Helena into the operating theatre. She was dressed in a highly fashionable hospital gown, hairnet and crocs. A group of masked people were hurrying around preparing.

"Good morning, Helena." One of the masked figures revealed himself to be Mr Gartside. "We're all ready for you now. Come over here and sit on this table please."

Helena did as he asked. Another nurse arrived by her side and helped her down until she was flat and staring at the ceiling.

"Here are the implants we're about to put in today." A silicone implant was waved in front of her eyes. It looked bigger than she remembered. An element of worry crept into her mind. Were these too big after all?

"Right," he said, slapping his gloved hands together. "I think we're ready to get cracking. Dr Eastman is the anaesthetist today. He'll take you under. Over to you Richard." A mask was placed over Helena's mouth and a new face loomed over her.

"Hello, Helena. It's Dr Eastman here. I want you to count down from 10 with me. 10, 9, 8, 7..."

Helena gradually became aware of her surroundings. White walls. Plastic floor. Cheap curtains. Antiseptic smell. Hospital. That meant...Helena threw off the sheet.

"Holy shit!" Despite the black surgical bra she now had two enormous lumps on her chest. She hadn't expected projection anything like this and that was whilst they were compressed.

"What have I done? Oh God, these are huge." A nurse entered having heard her patient's outbursts from the corridor.

"Hello, Helena. I'm the post operative nurse on the ward here. Please try to relax whilst you wake up. We'll have you ready to go home in a couple of hours."

Helena returned home in the evening, grateful to the friendly taxi driver who helped her to the front door. She wondered whether he would have done that if she didn't have a huge rack. He did keep glancing at it. She limped up the stairs to bed, each step sending stabs of pain through her chest. She flopped into the bed and slept.

The phone was ringing. She stretched an arm out to the side table, careful not to move her chest. "Hello," she croaked.

"Helena, it's Henry, where are you?" It was her boss. She'd forgotten about work. He was clearly furious. He would not take kindly to finding out she'd missed work due to a boob job.

"Oh hi, Henry," she replied, doing her best 'ill person' impression. "Sorry I didn't call in. I've got terrible COVID. I won't be able to make it in for a week whilst it clears up. So sorry."

"You should have informed me immediately. We're all having to pick up your cases today. I'm not impressed. Get well soon and we'll talk about this when you're back." He hung up the phone without a chance for Helena to say a thing.

"He is going to flip if he finds out about the boobs," she thought, pushing the thought of that into a mental bin marked 'future issues'.

She stumbled to the mirror. It was time to take a look at the results. She unbuttoned the loose shirt she'd been wearing since yesterday, revealing the surgical bra. Slowly, she began to inch down the zipper at the front. Suddenly, it unzipped all the way, the pressure from her enhanced breasts forcing it to spill open. SHe removed the final catch and slid it off ehr shoulders.

"Wow."

Her breasts were huge. Mr Gartside had really met his brief. Helena's chest was fitted with two perfectly rounded orbs, red with inflammation and gravity defying. At the base of each was a fresh scar, covered by a plaster. Her previously modest cleavage was gone, replaced by a chasm. Her areola seemed lighter, stretched out with the inflation. She looked obscene. She looked...

"Hot. I wonder what bra size I am now?"

She reached over to her drawer, being careful to avoid knocking her breasts, and pulled out a measuring tape.

"Let's see. Underbust is....30. And overbust is..." She pulled the tape up so it was lying across her nipples at the maximum extent of her breasts. "34. So that means..." She tapped the numbers into her phone.

"30D. Oh my God. I'm massive."

She spent a while examining herself in the mirror. Each angle was a shock although it was the side-on projection that was really the most fake looking.

Helena took some selfies and sent them to Sarah - 'Who's the busty one now? 30D and loving it xxx'

It wasn't long until a buzzing indicated a response from Sarah - 'WOW. Those look fantastic, girl! Welcome to the bimbo club. This is only the beginning.'