Got out a half bra and thong. Into the wardrobe and rescued a dress which showed off my assets. I was proud of my pert breasts and long legs. Now dres...sed I looked in the mirror again. I was feeling better already. Forget that loser, forget about all of them. I had to go out shopping. Yes, I was over dressed but I didn’t care. It doesn’t matter what you are doing if you feel good about yourself.In the local Shopping centre I bought milk and bread. Not very exciting but I breezed around feeling. .. Maybe she wouldn't text back thinking it was one of those 'junk' texts that are really common now.BEEP"Who is this?"She answered, not exactly an insightful response, but on further consideration of the original question, I couldn't really expect anything else.I thought carefully of my reply - I needed to prize out more than a one word answer."an admirer - of both you, and your car. I've always appreciated mature stock"Right, this was it, I'd either totally offended her into ignoring me, or. As the two tubes sealed another concubine entered the room, "I'm here to keep watch, Sir," she said softly.Bert nodded to the concubine but was listening as the AI said in his ear, "Transformation will be finished in eight hours. There will be some residual pain but it should be present for no more than two hours after they exit the med tubes."Bert turned to the concubine, "I'll be back for those two in eight hours, if there are any problems, or you have questions, give me a call." Yes, Sir,". Most of the patrons were teenagers, half full of cheap grog and a few of old perverts ogling the young bodies. Monique was different. Early forties, almost 6’ tall (179 cm), 34d breasts. Her legs seemed to go forever, ending with a miniskirt, which was exposing the most exiting part of her thighs and arse every time she made a sudden move. We made our way up the stairs, collecting some wolf whistles and rude comments from the young guys sitting on the steps. She was way beyond reacting to any.