Warm summer sunlight rouses me, filtering through the curtains and pooling on my neck and back. Bleary-eyed, I try to keep hold of that wonderful dream from last night even as it starts to slip away from me just like that damselfish had... Before I completely forget, I roll out of bed and rummage around in my beach bag, trying to figure out what brought those thoughts to mind. It was something out of the ordinary, something I kept a reminder of, but I can’t recall what! No, no, no all of this is just my normal swimwear, where *is it*, I know that once I can see it, I'll know what it is!

Lotus pauses as its stubby claws brush against an errant piece of cardboard near the bottom, the sensation of an item out of place galvanizing it into action! Plunging both paws into the bag and tossing items aside one by one, it extracts the almost-forgotten business card and holds it up to the light. The crumpled and water-stained text is hard to read but still legible enough for Lotus to turn on its phone, canceling that day's plans and plotting a route to the clinic.

Morning preparations were done in a rush as the otter does the bare minimum to keep itself presentable, briefly considering a sundress before throwing on a loose-fitting shirt and some sweatpants that would conceal its form better. Out the door and onto the roads, Cinnabar’s practice is only a walk away, just not in a direction that Lotus ever thought to travel. Spotting a placard advertising the surgeon’s services, nerves begin creeping back into the otter’s mind and it pauses mid-stride as the entranceway seems to loom larger and larger. Taking a step forwards, Lotus starts to fidget in place, tail twitching and paws clenching and unclenching before reaching for the doorknob, only to find it to be locked! Something inside the little creature seems to deflate as its face drops.

Finding a bench across the street, I sit down and take deep breaths to try and calm myself, shivering from stress even in the warm summer air. “Why did I even come here, I don’t know what I’m getting myself into! Surely I can keep managing things the way they are, can’t I? Oh, what a stupid waste of time, I bet I misread the business card somehow…” My eyes close and I start to wipe away the forming tears as I hear a bell jingle across the way. Taking a peek, I can see the doberman slipping inside and flipping a sign from Closed to Open, which I hadn’t even noticed before! I must have gotten here just a bit too early? Steeling myself once more, I carefully pad up to the door once more and open it just enough to peek into the waiting room.

As the bell softly chimes above my head, I take in the comfortable atmosphere of the office. Overstuffed chairs of various sizes line the walls, reading material aplenty on nearby bookcases and the gentle scent of flowers filling the air from a diffuser half-hidden atop a shelf. Across the room, Cinnabar sat behind his desk, politely pretending not to notice me until I fully stepped inside. Waving hello, he smiles without showing his teeth and offers a greeting, “Hello there, if I recall we met yesterday? I will admit I wasn’t expecting to see you so soon, may I have your name?”

In for a penny, in for a pound, I pad across the carpeted flooring and hop up onto one of the chairs situated across from him. “I’m Lotus, but sorry, I’m still not sure what I’m doing here.” Shuffling in my seat, I glance around and take a moment to glance over the medical certifications proudly displayed on the walls. As my gaze returns to meet his, he nods and begins to speak in a practiced and professional tone, clearly much more in his element here than on the beachfront. “I think it might be simpler for both of us if I show some before and after shots of my previous clients. Would that be ok with you?” Squeaking my assent, he reaches into a desk drawer and pulls out a small photo album, flipping the cover open and setting it in front of me.

On the first few pages lie tastefully censored side profiles of women, each time with their chest larger in the first image than in the second. “Like my business card mentioned, I specialize in reductions. Despite what we hear about bodies, less is more sometimes and my clients often find themselves uncomfortably overburdened. My job is to bring my clients’ bodies more in line with what they desire, and most frequently this takes the form of breast reductions in order to alleviate back pain and such.”

On the next pages, my interest is further perked as instead of a smaller chest, these individuals became entirely flat on top, nipples still blurred out. “Other clients’ desires are more in line with a mastectomy…” On the third page before and after shots of males’ groins are shown, clad in speedos. The first image invariably shows a bulge but in the second the size of the bulge always shrinks, although not always to a flat patch. “And others feel as though their bits down below don’t fit them. Sometimes the hormones you’re born with are the only thing wrong and other times it’s just the feeling of the wrong equipment. Other times it’s both.” Thinking that to be the end of it, I start to consider my options as I notice his hand reach for the corner of the page, as if to turn it once more. What else could possibly be an option? Unintentionally, I start holding my breath in anticipation as the final page of the album is revealed.

The canine’s mouth starts to open and then he pauses as my paw instinctually reaches for the spread of photos shown. Unlike previously, this one needed the full page to show a single comparison entry as a front, side and a pair of close up views were required for the chestnut-color equine on display. Cinnabar notices my interest and folds his hands patiently, allowing me time to take it all in. Also unlike the previous pages, there was no need for censorship on the After photos. In place of breasts, there was just a smooth expanse of featureless pectoral fur, with comparison photos showing a seamless removal of even the nipples. Although the speedo was barely managing to contain a hulking member in the first shot, the second entirely did away with clothing, leaving another smooth expanse that was impossible to call obscene.

That one. I want that one.