Some of our Lovely Busty Ladies have had, or are planning to have, a reduction.

PANIC! The loyal community of boobsmen is upset. Some rend their clothes and beat their breasts (instead of what they usually beat), some don a hairshirt and flagellate their bodies (instead of what they usually flagellate). Our MyCroft poetically expressed his sorrow for this new and dangerous tendency in a past issue of BEHAVIOR, and Brother St Stephan is actually performing exorcisms to stop the B-Cup Devil from coming forth.

Now, let's face the truth. Boobs are wonderful (gee, how original), but really big boobs are uncomfortable. I have read about gals having serious back trouble because of the overbalancing due to the implants: the so-called fake tits (and especially the older implants) are sometimes too hard, their skin is sometimes colder than normal. Among the Amazons, it was usual to amputate the right breast, lest it be a hindrance to drawing the bow. And we all know that Casey James can sleep only lying on her back, and even though her shoes certainly remain dry when it's raining, she needs help to lace them up in the morning... The bustiest girl I've ever had fun with - named Jennifer, from Austria - wasn't able to come jogging with me: vibration troubles. (And please don't ask me, "Hey, didn't you have any better gymnastics to do with her?")

When a Busty Lady decides to become a Super- Stacked- Mega- Mamm- Queen having one or more implants, she knows all of this very well. Afterwards, she can start her own career as a strip-dancer, xxx-actress, or model, even though she's no beauty. (We forgive many physical defects in our busty models; even though her legs are too short for a model, or she's got a little pug nose, or her butt doesn't have that Perfect Brazilian Shape, a pair of big boobs catches our attention -- and holds it, too.) But one day she might get tired of custom-made industrial-strength bras, special clothes and, above all, thousands of guys always looking at her but never looking in her eyes. This happened to our lovely Tiffany Towers. And, whether you like it or not, she's the owner of her own boobs.

So, sorry guys, but I'll vote for having this one as a new Article in the Women's Lib Charter of Rights:

Any woman has Freedom of Boobs: freedom of deciding how big, small, huge, tiny her Boobs should be. The State has to provide her the wherewithal to make her decisions become reality, if she proves to feel uncomfortable with her current size.

Now, if you Americans find the second sentence of the above paragraph too much of a socialist stateism, we can remove it. But the first one is untouchable. It's a matter of freedom.

But your panic is not over, is it? So, two points to bolster our tranquility:

(a) The future is open. Aristotle considered the male/female distinction natural and thus immutable. Today, changing the sex of a person is becoming quite normal, and the technique is constantly improving. Think about what will happen to breast implants: those whose minds are only able to see the present can't even imagine how easy this operation will become. Sooner or later, I'll ask my girlfriend what she wants as a birthday present, and she'll answer: "A new pair of boobs, darling!" New tits each month, I guess: and we'll have a Tiffany Taylor A-Cupped for her jogging, and E-Cupped for her photo sessions (and for our joy)...

(b) Meanwhile, there's a loyal friend standing by to console you in your hour of need: the morpher. If you disappointed T.T. fans don't actually need to marry Tiffany, but only to enjoy the sight of her, he can help you out. After all, our Lovely Ladies of Latex's fake tits already are fantasy shapes. Look at Minka or Pandora or Casey James: they already are somehow living morphs. We can't ask'em to keep such a size forever, if they don't want to, and here is where the morpher comes into his own. Here is exactly the area in which Tiffany Towers (or anyone else) has no chance. Her surgeon surely did a wonderful job. But, my friends, no real surgeon can beat a virtual surgeon....So enjoy looking (and you might even burst into song: "There's NO bosomness like SHOW bosomness...")

My thanks to St Stephan for his patience in editing my English.