An impatient, curvy vixen, a physician of some sort. She stands a terse 5'8", her standard expression is 'taciturn,' and her intelligent amber eyes seem to fix all with a withering gaze. Perched on her nose are a pair of pince-nez spectacles, giving her a studious and faintly malevolent air.
Although it has her nameplate, 'Dr. H. Wednesday, MD', pinned to the breast pocket, the lab coat she wears isn't her usual. Not just small on her, it appears tailored to the bursting point. Its sleeves and shoulders are normal, but below it's been cut to her waspish waist, the lapels wrenched so widely by the doctor's massive bosom that she's almost topless.
Her breasts are simply enormous-- her cup size must be well into the middle of the alphabet --heavy, quivering ovate spheres lined with that vanilla-ice-cream fur. They look even larger packed into the top of her lab coat, heaving up in buoyant curves nearly to her collarbones, jammed into a deep, crushing line of cleavage. Half-moons of broad black aureolas are revealed by the stretched-open collar, her nipples barely concealed.
Three straining buttons at her waist hold the coat closed, before the tails yield to her hips and full, well-fleshed ass. They reveal the vixen's dense gray pubes, starting under her navel and pointing in a luxurient triangle between her legs, to the secret of the doctor's success, perhaps...
A monster phallus hangs between her legs, black as tarpaper and satiny-smooth; in its flaccid state it's at least eight inches long and very broad, hanging over and largely obscuring balls like large nectarines. The whole sways between toned wine-colored thighs as she places her delicate, well-turned feet. She would have what are called 'birthing hips' if she were capable of giving birth, but she prefers to leave that business to others...