Chapter Six

The next morning, when Lisa came down for breakfast, Gunther was already at the table, with the newspaper open in front. As he was doing every morning, he looked up and greeted her warmly. Despite the years they had spent together, even in complete intimacy, between them there had never been anything. Not that Gunther didn’t like the girls, indeed, but for Lisa he felt from the very beginning this feeling of an almost paternal affection: and in any case he had quickly realized that Lisa was a great deal, as well as an excellent business partner, but to be handled with extreme caution. He knew of the idiosyncrasy that Lisa had toward men, and this undoubtedly facilitated their professional relationship. Lisa had never had a sentimental relationship with anyone and this fact didn’t seem to upset her. Better that way.


Gunther, the night before, had thought about the discussion they had the previous day and slowly an idea had grown in his mind: he had begun to fantasize about the words of Lisa, in his sleep, and he dreamed about her: she was real and yet immense. Sitting on the chair in his office in Hamburg with a gigantic breast, much bigger than she already had in the real life: her titswere barely contained in a white minidress stretched up to the agony, laying down over her crossed legs.
She got up and, walking around the desk, she placed herself beside him, hands on hips, overseer: from his sitting position, he was seeing her eyes amused, just sprouting from the deep groove created by this huge boobs.
"Now, do you we believe that Santa exists?" Lisa was telling him in the dream. He awoke up at dawn and was no more able to sleep any longer.
"I thought about what you said yesterday" - he began - "and this morning I made a few phone calls in Germany: there could also be the opportunity to fulfill your desire without bothering Santa Claus ..." Lisa, who was biting a slice of bread, stopped suddenly, her mouth open.
"I reminded of this friend of mine at the university and of what he told me a long time ago" - he continued - "and I think that he might give us an help."
Lisa's focus was now up. "You studied in a college?" she said incredulously.
"Sure, I had a few tests left to become a doctor, then I happened to go to Hamburg and I stayed there until we met. A great loss for science. "
"So what?" - Asked the girl excited.
"So, tomorrow we leave for Berlin. I have organized everything, flights, hotels and everything else. And of course the meeting with our luminary of science. "
Lisa coudn’t stand the excitment any longer and, as it was in her character, her mood was brighter for the rest of the day.
In the afternoon they did the photo session with the two models called by Gunther, and the result was spectacular: Lisa, lying on a deck chair, had her breasts sucked simultaneously by the two girls, drewing expressions of pure ecstasy. While posing, eyes closed, she imagined herself even bigger than she was and she almost enjoyed the mere thought.

Berlin received them the next day, with a gray rainy day: the huge black car leased by Gunther left the airport and slowly, in traffic, headed toward the campus of the Potsdam University, according to the indications which were given to the driver. The water flowed over the windows, distorting the figures of passers-by who were walking smoothly on the sidewalks, the umbrellas just leaning forward.
Berlin, University of Potsdam. Lisa's curiosity grew from moment to moment, until she could no longer contain herself. "So, you really mean it when you were telling me about a professor at the University... And what were you doing in college? "
Gunther turned to her, then looked away, as if to seek the thread of his thoughts.
"I was born and raised here, in the outskirts of Berlin in the DDR ..."
"What is DDR?" Interrupted Lisa.
Gunther looked at her dazed, then he realized that he was talking about things that seemed to have existed a hundred years before ... so far, not only in the past, but also by his common everyday life.
Communism, the Wall ... Almost beyond belief, even for him that had lived it...
"You know Lisa, I have more than twice your age, but we have something in common, you and me. Something very strong. The first time I saw you I knew you were running away from something, not just a place, but a condition in which you were forced to live. I liked your courage, because at your age I did the same thing.
I fled from East Germany when I was 25 years old. I didn’t know what I was going to find: I knew what I was about to leave, and that was enough for me to decide. And this is why I didn’t become a doctor ... " he concluded, smiling.
The car stopped at the fixed address. They were inside a University campus: wide and straight boulevards divided impressive-looking old buildings, from nineteenth century: few people in the street. Lisa got out, wrapped in a tight raincoat, and looked at the building in front of her: the wide staircase, leading to a colonnade, surmounted by a pediment in classic style. On it, in Gothic letters, there was a big ensign. It said: Institute of Veterinary Medicine.
She stared at Gunther who was standing on the sidewalk. "Think about, it has been more than forty years that I haven’t come around this places," he said in a nostalgic mood: he took Lisa under his umbrella and, holding out his arm, led her up on the steps.
”Institute of Veterinary Medicine? And your friend would be a vet doctor? " - the girl exclaimed in dismay.
"Yes, Doctor of Veterinary Medicine, and professor at the renowned University of Potsdam, an absolute authority of this science."
Lisa could not believe her ears.
"And what do we have to do with with vets?"
The situation seemed to amuse Gunther, who couldn’t hide a broad smile.
"Well, my friend, Hans Bohm certainly will be able to explain it."
Engaged in conversation, they entered the building and were walking a long corridor, her heels echoing in the general silence, when a young girl came formly towards them .
"Hello, I'm Elizabeth, Dr. Bohm’s personal assistant," – she said in a cordial manner. "Mr. Gunther Mayer e. .. Miss Lisa, I guess ... " The coat was now open on Lisa’s chest and her eyes fell on the low-cut white blouse underneath, staring for a moment that was longer than the necessary.
"Yeah, you’re right, miss." Said Lisa.
She held out her hand, not looking at her face as she normally would have, but returning the look up to her breasts: it was her usual way to remark this small lack of grace in which all women inevitably were falling in front of her. Gray suit, blouse, tights and light shoes. Almost negligible breasts.
"The Professor has just finished his lessons" – she said with an embarrassed smile - "I will take you to his office."
They went through other corridors, until they reached the front of the office door of Professor Bohm. She turned the knob without knocking and made them enter and sit down.
The room was large, the walls full of shelves, and the shelves full of books, mostly enclosed in glass cases. Two tall windows were overlooking a beautiful park. It had stopped raining and the clouds that were quickly shifting through the sky in the windy afternoon modulated beams of light, transforming the room, now in shadow, now illuminated.
After a few minutes, finally, the professor entered.
Lisa didn’t know what could this man match with a night clubs owner in Hamburg: he was a distinguished man of medium height, dressed in a tweed jacket and tie. He wore a beard and a mane of white hair .
Behind the small steel-rimmed glasses, two light blue eyes were moving brightly.
He shook his hand warmly with Gunther and, taking the hand that Lisa was holding out, he declared himself very happy to meet her. Turned around the heavy oak desk and layed down on the chair, legs crossed, the fingertips joined just below his face. In the moment of silence that followed, Professor Bohm looked carefully at Lisa, then said: "I’m reading in her eyes that she can’t understand why she’s here ..."
Lisa, embarrassed, smiled: "Well, almost everything is born as a joke, and in reality ... really ... "
The professor filled the void, continuing.
"Me and Gunther are definitely a different generation than you, miss Lisa: even more, we are of another era. In our times there were two Germanies, in which normality was dictated by the Communist philosophy, where everything had to be sacrificed for the good of the nation. We, young East Germans, were sons of the Country even before of our parents. Gunther has had the courage that I, and many others, didn’t have; to flee and give up everything just for the promise of freedom. I've always admired him for that.
The day after the fall of the Berlin Wall, he came right here, from Hamburg, and knocked on the door of this same office, with a bottle of champagne in his hand! "
He took a long pause, took the pipe from his pocket, filled it and lit it with aware gestures. He thoughtfully looked at the spirals of smoke, rising toward the ceiling, as if searching for words to continue.
"Now you, my dear young lady: you are not German and you will find hard to understand our mentality, and even more the mentality of East Germans. We are descending from military tribes, by the Prussians, accustomed to hardship, famine and war. The Great Prussia, not the rest of Germany, gave rise to the mind of Friedrich Nietzsche, the myth of the superman and also its distorted consequences.
But Germany also has cultivated the worship of man, before of the superman: the personality of each individual as unique and inimitable, and all these concepts are so far from the banality of humanism prevailing in the rest of Europe. In this substrate, so particular, the communist East Germany after the war has found its way, certainly unique and peculiar. "
He stopped suddenly, as if to verify the level of attention of the two persons: it was clear the habit of the professor to speak in public, to his students or even to the distinguished gentlemen of the University.
"I’m not saying this to justify the Communist regime, for heaven's sake, but in some of its meanings, even for scientific purposes, this mixture of Prussian discipline, and Marxist philosophy gave great results.
Think for example about what happens in sports; the DDR, particularly with women, was for decades an invincible nation in nearly every Olympic sport, from swimming to weight lifting, gymnastics and athletics. All this was the result of a desire, common to some part of the scientific community and to the apex of political power, to explore what were the limits to which the human body, or superhuman, could be brought. Of course there was also an other aspect of propaganda, but it cared little for us young scientists. "
"Excuse me," Lisa interrupted, "but all these things, haw do they match with ... us?". And while saying it, she turned her gaze to the abundant neckline of her blouse. Professor Bohm smiled.
"You’re right, I digress. To get to the point, one morning I was summoned in a ministry here in Berlin, where I was proposed to join a "group of study" whose aim was to remain secret. It was born, think about it, from the perversion of a prominent member of the party for breast-feeding women. He was fantasizing about bringing to his bed girls with huge breasts. I learned this much later, of course. At the time I was taking care of milk production in livestocks, and they simply asked me if I wanted to make available to them the knowledge I had acquired. They wanted, or so they said, to increase the production of milk in human nurses, in order to ensure a naturally fed to theinfants, even if the mothers had gone to work, as it often happened in those years, in mines or shipyards. "
He felt the decline in concentration of the girl, so he decided to tighten.
"I'm not going to bore you with scientific data about the level of prolactin or other hormones in the blood of pregnant women. The point was that while cows produce milk constantly for years, in humans this ability is related to pregnancy and childbirt: they wanted to create a woman who could breast-feed constantly, regardless of the state: in which the mammary glands, the ducts, nipples, everything had changed, overdeveloped to achieve the final goal. "
"And did you manage?" asked curiously Lisa.
"Well, the results were really ... interesting, I guess. Although they never appeared in any scientific publication, of course."
By that moment Gunther and Lisa were hanging from his lips, and withthe perfect timing of an actor, he opened a desk drawer and pulled out a thick file, placing it on the desk. He opened it and pulled out a smaller folder, with a green cover and one name written by hand, in italics, and an acronym. Greta SV 14279. He put it, closed, in front of the two persons.
Lisal looked at the number and stood for a moment, hesitating. If there are signs of destiny, well, she had one right there in front of her.
Gunther and Lisa leaned forward at the same time: it was Lisa to open it with caution.
The photo that appeared, even in black and white, left no doubt. Greta, if that was the girl’s name, portrayed in profile , was on all fours on a marble table, her slender figure. Her mammoth breasts were resting gently on the marble shelf. On the next page she was standing, like in a mugshot because of the two perspectives: in front her enormous breasts were hanging down to her navel; from the side you could realize that, despite the incredible size, so far from flattening on the girl’s chest, the enormous breasts were definetely leaning forward.
Professor Bohm was enyoing the effect on both. Gunther, usually staid, he was stunned, his mouth open. The doctor broke the silence in a careless way.
"Greta was perhaps our best result. She was producing 6 liters of milk each day by each breast, a quantity that’s considered respectable even for a young Friesian cow. Of course she had to be subjected to special milking session for that ... "
Lisa looked up at him, with her mouth dry and her erect nipples under the blouse, and what came out had a strident tone dictated by her unbelief.
"Doctor, you are a genius!"
She looked again at the photo, almost giddy. Completely marveled by the perfect symmetry, the high and defined areolae, the proud nipples.
"I absolutely want to have a breast like this. Now." She seemed to look around, as if she was looking for a bed on which to undress.
The professor smiled, amused.
"These events occurred many years ago, my young lady. And you became aware of it only through the deep friendship which binds me to Gunther: I wish that everything you saw and heard today will remain between us." He closed the folder and reset the binder, closing it.
"Ending the conversation we had before: I must say that these so unusual expressions, or perhaps in a way aberrant medical research, gave their fruits; here in the DDR, in the seventies, were made the first experiments with synthetic steroids, hormones, even stem cells . In this case the stem cells, derived from animal placenta, in mares, had a specific role. But sometimes even science must surrender to nature."
"But the results were there," - said Gunther - "and those photos bear witness."
'It is true, we could change the human body, to create real mares, but the starting point was not decided by us, and we were never able to do that. "
Lisa was loosing the sense of the speech. "So, in plain English, what does that mean?" she asked.
The professor replied to her with a smile.
"It means that the necessary condition for the success of a such transformation is that the subject is pregnant or has given birth a few weeks before."
For Lisa that was like a punch in the stomach: she mentally repeated the last sentence of the doctor and then, slowly, she felt the irritation rising in her. She stood up, almost abruptly, leaned her hand on the desk as a sign of salute and, heedless of Gunther who was looking at her amused, left the studio slamming the door.