Davita Minton
Serial Trans
Acquisitions
''That was the beginning of it all.'' She thought, as she paused in reflection from her online shopping for breast forms. This was her fourth attempt to find the right size and type of false breasts. And as she clicked through page after page of sundry sizes and shapes and styles and brands she wondered how this all got started. ''Its been a long strange trip.'' She thought. ''Of finding and keeping and stealing and lying and rummaging and collecting and hiding and then discarding it all only to begin again finding, keeping, stealing, lying..... Over and over again. And now actually purchasing things myself. But thats when it all began. No doubt about it.''
She was working for her landlord at the time, on one of his other rental properties. Several times throughout the week long project the recently vacated former tenants came to retrieve more of their possessions that were being temporarily stored in the garage. They were a young attractive couple, especially the female. ''Damn. She's fucking hot.'' Was her refrain each time she saw her. She even developed a mild obsession with the young woman. Production came to a halt during their visits. She either went outside for a smoke to facilitate viewing, or slinked from window to window peeking through the blinds, or both. Soon, however, she was informed by her employer that the couple would return no more and she was directed to remove from the garage whatever they had left behind and dispose of it.
Over the years she had worked in several different capacities for multiple employers in hundreds of different apartments and rental properties. That people left things behind when they moved was common. That she would sift through the abandoned belongings of strangers in search of useful or valuable items was equally common. And as she had done so many times in the past, she began the effort with no preconceived notions of what she might find, except hope; and based on experience precious little of that, to find something worthwhile.
As she recalled now, it was the very first box she ventured to open that contained what she would later come to value as treasure. It was the top box of a disheveled stack of three boxes, of which the middle and bottom boxes were partially crushed under the weight of the box on top. At the time she had not the well trained eye and all consuming sense of covetousness that she now possessed and therefore she did not immediately appreciate the value of what she had just discovered. Very quickly, however, her initial feelings of indifference to the collection of womens clothes contained in the box changed suddenly as she recognized the unmistakable outline of a pair of panties. Within seconds she was filled with a sense of desperate desire as memories of the former owner of the precious garment flashed through her mind. Her desire was crushing and saddening and painful and debilitating for she unconsciously knew it was impotent. She held the garment between her thumb and middle finger as if it were diseased somehow. Then, suddenly, she dropped the panties as she instinctively recognized the movement in her peripheral vision as a pedestrian on the sidewalk. She then whirled around and quickly moved away from the stack of boxes. Then she stopped suddenly. And after a brief; ''and probably suspicious looking'' she thought, pause, she snatched an old broom from the corner and began feverishly sweeping the garage floor. Soon, she ventured a peek in the direction of the sidewalk just as the passer-by passed out of site. In a rush she deeply exhaled. After a moment of reflection a plan of action flashed through her mind and she immediately set about bringing it to fruition.
Upon closing the old-fashioned one-piece garage door that fortuitously contained two long, but narrow panes of glass, she quickly evaluated the situation and determined, beyond doubt, that she would see anyone approaching the garage long before they reached the door. She then retrieved the panties and retreated into the gloom and in a short time she orgasm'd into them.
As was her wont in those days, so many years ago, the succeeding next couple of hours found her mired in waves of shame and guilt and remorse that combined to inundate her being with despair. But this, she could suffer only so long before it would transmogrify into bitterness and frustration and anger culminating in even more powerful unsatiated desire. And when it occurred to her in a wholly organic epiphany that some or all of the clothes she just discovered might greatly enhance her ritualised, chemical infused, nocturnal female pantomime for self-gratification sessions she didn't give it a second thought.
Looking back, she would have thought that the first time wearing womens clothes would have been emotionally destabilizing. But it wasn't. Beyond the titillating nature of the initial excitement concerning the obvious change to her nocturnal ritual; which eventually regressed to the mean upon familiarization, there was virtually no change in her mental state of being. And accepting for a mild preoccupation with securing a place of concealment for her new wardrobe that would be completely separate from her existing wardrobe and that would be as safe from compromise as humanly possible, the transition in her tangible life was all but seamless.
''Went from zero to sixty with nary a speed bump though.'' She now mused. ''From never ever giving womens clothes a single thought to always being on the lookout for new acquisitions.'' Now her thoughts drifted back to that first night. ''It was like they had been made for me. Yes! They were made for me. Afterall, they were made for women.'' And she recalled how she most especially enjoyed the way she appeared in the leotard; which was so very provocatively form fitting. ''And from such humble beginnings. Just look how far i've come.'' She thought, with ambivalence.
As was her wont, currently, whenever she shopped online, with the myriad of choices, she often found herself paralyzed by indecision. Finally, it occurred to her that a process of elimination might make her choice easier.
''And just where do you propose we begin that process?'' She thought, sarcastically. And for a moment, she could not say. Then, it dawned on her.
''How about we start with what we know we don't want? What we've had before.'' She thought. And which seemed like a good idea, at first.
''Oh yeah! Great! You've eliminated three whole choices. Just fucking great.''
''No! It's four choices, If we include the self-adhesive type. Foam falsies. D cup. C cup. And all self-adhesive'.''
''Yay! It's a breakthrough! Four choices! Ya kiddin me?''
Next, in an effort to avoid a near complete waist of her time she sought to expand upon the modest progress she had made by attempting to list the characteristics of the products she previously possessed. But not long into the process, however, she could not help but lose herself in reverie.
''Yes. Indeed. That certainly was a clever ruse. They had no idea of your true intentions, I'm sure.'' She thought, ironically, in reference to the circumstances surrounding the purchase of her first ever set of fake breasts. She had first seen the set of foam falsies several weeks prior to the actual purchase date of same, when she had taken her then teenage daughter to the novelty shop in question, in search of a Halloween costume. As soon as her gaze fell upon them she felt she must soon possess them. The erotic possibilities were intoxicating. ''But how?'' She desperately thought. The image of herself; by appearance a forty something year old man, at a cash register with a pair of life-like foam falsies complete with large darkly colored nipples packaged in clear cellophane plastic was absolutely mortifying. But then; ''Eureka! It is Halloween, after all. I'll come back on Halloween. I'll buy a few other odd things as well. The place will be packed with last minute shoppers. The cashiers will be harried and hurried. No one will be the wiser. At the very least I'll establish plausible deniability.'' And come Halloween that year, while maintaining the edifice of her ironic public persona she procured the sought after prosthetics. ''How wonderful they were.'' She recalled. When she got home with them that day she immediately tried on everything she owned over them. She was so proud when she posted pictures of them in her 'CraigsList' ads. ''Got a lot of action from those.'' Soon, however, her pleasant reveries were overshadowed when she recalled how, years later, she had thought her adult son had seen the falsies in a trash can where she had recently and fecklessly disposed of them during preparations for a move. With a deep sigh she thought; ''You just cannot always be on your guard.''
When she recalled the specifics concerning her first set of silicone breast forms all she could do was smile and shake her head. ''They did not look that big in the images.'' She thought, referring to the 'D' cup sized breast forms. ''My god. They were huge. I looked ridiculous with them on. And they required so much support I couldn't even feel them jiggling or bouncing. And that was one of the things I most wanted. Got some damn good pics with those though. With that yellow spandex body suit type dress over them. I'm sure those pics got me laid a few times. And didn't I have them on when I had that guy on the beach that night? In the dunes. No more than a hundred yards from where people were crab hunting. Yes. That' right. Did he fondle them at all? I think he did. Lost twenty fucking dollars sending them back too goddamnet.''
No longer smiling now, she was again shaking her head as she began to consider the second set of silicone breast forms she had recieved in exchange for the first set. ''And they were to fucking big too. And self-adhesive my ass. They always began peeling off after only a few minutes.'' She thought with disgust. But then, to her great discomfiture, this last thought re-animated the neural pathway to a memory she had once hoped would never re-surface again, and she involuntarily gasped in response. ''I still cannot believe that happened.'' She thought, as the shock of re-living the incident began to wane. ''Thats worse than leaving a trail of 'Santorum' to the bathroom. On the other hand..... I think it's fair to say we both reacted with the utmost dignity. After the first one popped out in his hand; I think it was that yellow dress too, he simply tossed it aside without a thought and kept right on hitting it hard. Admirible. Then I pulled the other one off and continued to enjoy myself notwithstanding.'' And here, in a flash of insight she transitioned back to the here and now. ''This is truly a breakthrough. Take that bitch! This has not been a waist of time. We're buying the kind that strap on over the shoulder and around the chest. 'B' cup.''
The End
