Basic Steven

Growing into the Job, Post 454: Gala, p12

Everyone had been adoring Melissa all night, and fawning over me. I was so tired; all this attention had gotten exhausting. 

Just when I thought I might finally get a moment alone, seated again at the foot of the statue perched above the party, in came Morgan, my big blonde Hungarian APRN.  Melissa had finally untethered me from her dress and plopped me here, headed to the ladies’ room with some friends. ‘I’ll be right back, pumpkin,’ she’d told me. I was preemptively shivering a bit already, but was honestly thankful for the chance to regroup.

Morgan had caught my eye from across the crowd and must have seen me trembling. “Dr. J! Oh, the little man! You look the cold!” she cooed at me in her strong Eastern European accent as she broke from the crowd and made her way to where I sat. Morgan was a big woman even amongst my staff, one of the tallest and thickest of my staff. Her low-cut, aquamarine dress, huge of skirt, sparkled in the lights of the gala and revealed a mountain of bosom, an acre of smooth, tan cleavage, “The little man in nice suit, but all chilly! Did your mama not dress you up the warm for tonight?”

“Haha n-no, Morgan, I-” I stammered  attempting to get my first words in edgewise before she nonchalantly talked right over me. My most recent episode with Morgan, with Gianna remoted in, flashed through my head. I knew I needed to be wary. 

“Oh, you have the shiver. You are the cold?” Morgan beamed, taking another step toward me. Her big zealous smile began to warp as she approached. “Back home my job was nurse in lab, nurse to keep the little, tiny men warm,” she explained, leaning in as her smile finally twisted into something…else. “Come, I warm you…”

Gah!

On the steps, on my butt, I backpedaled away from her as much as I could. The thought of being embosomed by this titan of a woman, who likely outweighed me by more than threefold had its appeal. After all  I was actually quite cold, and very tired. But there were other, stronger emotions pulling me away from her. Fear was probably number one, but it was mixed in a stew of others. 

I’d been sensing it for a while, but I only now started to realize it: along with Melissa there were women that worked with us with whom I’d come to feel bizarrely comfortable - Josie, Lakshmi, Shanette, even Amelia, Randi and Marisela came to mind - but then there were…the rest. Many of the new women in the office, for some reason, gave me a different vibe. And Morgan was definitely one of them.

My voice trembled as I stammered, "N-no, Morgan, p-p-please." Alarm was clearly evident in my eyes as I shuffled up another step, putting more distance between us. I was now sitting on the platform itself, just a short way from the right foot of the statue. 

“Oh, little man,” Morgan purred, “your girlfriend, she leave you the alone.” She another step forward, her first up onto the alt-…onto the platform. “But you do not like to be the alone, hm? She know you need her so why she leave?”

Maybe it was because of Melissa’s long absence earlier, the wait for her to arrive. Maybe it was being with her, tugged along behind her, watching her work her way through the crowd, charming everyone and wrapping them around her finger. Whatever it was I just couldn't put my finger on it as it wriggled around in my brain.. The fact of the matter is that I had been having strange doubts, still, about my feelings towards her and our relationship in general. My current worry was that as she was becoming so popular, so much taller and stronger and poised to make more and more money: what did she see in me? Did she really love me, or was I just something else to dominate? Was she not happy with merely having gained control of my practice, my staff, this building? With her cult of personality growing just as fast as her shoe size and her weaving her way into the consciousness of the greater metro area, did she want something different than a boyfriend? Did she want me as an accessory, like a piece of jewelry to show off her successes? Or does she really love me, like she’s always saying?

“Haha it’s…it’s no big deal,” I started to say as Morgan slowly made her way up the steps, forcing me to look up at her, “she’s only been gone a min-“

“Oh but you are the cold, the chilly,” she repeated, “Why she leave you alone? When so many warm women here?”

Morgan’s question suddenly brought with it more apprehensions, as illogical as they were. Doubts like that brought me back to my time tonight, these past hours tagging along after Melissa at the gala. It was currently getting late, and I was tired, but I was still troubled.

For example: Melissa had certainly made sure I came across as small and submissive as possible next to her, especially when there were cameras around.  With the cord from her skirt connecting me to her I’d been attached to her dress like some symbiote. I’d swam in her wake like a remora through the night, feeding on the scraps of attention that were left behind for me. I was like a little trophy for her, and I felt it. 

Then, though, I remembered, she’d look down at me, and I up at her. Our eyes would meet and I’d melt. There was something connecting us, something more than just the strip of fabric from the train of her dress. For the moment I thought I I could see it: in the glimmers of magic that were the gemstones of her eyes, I saw something connecting us. Maybe she did relish the notion of having a boyfriend she could be seen tugging around like a toy, but unless I was imagining it, there was something else powerful between us. Was it love?

There’s no mistaking how I felt for her. Melissa Monroe was an impressive specimen, and the way she stood out from and captivated the crowd tonight was astonishing. She turned heads from every direction. People spilled out of corners and from around crevices to speak to her, thrilled, gaggles of people swarming over to talk, and hug, and chat, anything to get closer as if she was some sort of celebrity. Even her friends, the girls she’d known for years, looked up at her with respect, admiration and devotion. Others, people from the outside? Deference, awe, and dare I say veneration. The public was spellbound by her, and she captivated everyone as soon as she drifted into a conversation, or was pulled aside to meet some dignitary or business leader. This experience happened multiple times, over and over again, going from group to group. Melissa did not shy away from the attention, either; in fact I watched her flourish in it, letting herself incandescently outshine anyone or anything else in that room.

Trailing along, literally attached at her hip and living in her shadow, I was almost more her appendage than my own person. Was I in love with her, though, or just dazzled like everyone else?

I could hear what they all were saying, and i recalled the conversations from earlier:

“He’s like a male angler fish, isn’t he?” I’d heard some woman - I think she worked for the city - say to Melissa, commenting on me as if I wasn’t even in the room. “The way he hangs off of you like that? I mean, there are other women here wearing tethers with their partners but he’s just…he’s just so small.” As drinks flowed and tongues loosened, the indignation of the whole evening grew with every passing hour. Women loved seeing this, a man so reduced that he was more an adornment, a decoration, an accessory like a new handbag. Melissa, of course, didn’t know what an angler fish was, but laughed along anyway. Honestly, I had become surprisingly kind of fine with it all, but it was still nicer to think of myself  as a fly on the wall rather than a parasitic male fish cursed with sexual dimorphism. I was there just to soak in the conversations while, for the most part, just listening.

Melissa, however, had spent her evening peacocking around, eagerly flaunting herself and standing as grandiosely tall as possible, to tower over anyone with whom she was speaking. It also explained why she'd chosen such dramatically high-heeled shoes: to exaggerate the size difference between not only us, but between her and literally everyone else. It's not like she really had to though when, even without her shoes, she was easily taller than any person here. 

Somehow, even with her patent lack of humility, she exuded an uncanny ability to gracefully absorb the cascade of compliments pouring in from all sides. Words like "statuesque," "gorgeous," "towering," and "empowered" were incessantly hurled at her, each accolade seeming to amplify her smile and brighten her radiance. It was as though the attention was her nourishment. In hindsight, it very well may have been, fueling her ego with each uttered word and lingering stare. The gradual transformation of her presence was palpable and, over the evening, both her personality and carriage expanded within the room, drawing the captivated crowd into her gravitational orbit. The men present struggled to resist being lost in her mesmerizing allure, while the women seemed all too happy to be hypnotized, even going so far as to squeeze and grope playfully at Melissa and her muscles and curves. She loved every moment of it, flexing her biceps and shoulders for them as they gasped and gushed, calling her words like “Amazon” and “giantess”.

…

Their words echoed through my mind as I looked up to see Morgan now towering over me like a mammoth…

“Baby, baby boy,” she purred, crouching down ever so slightly as she slowly approached me, causing me to continue to scuttle back, back, back until - oof! - I felt myself collide with the huge foot of the stone statue behind me. My eyes went wide. Her enormous breasts beckoned my gaze and indeed the entirety of my attention. “Let woman warm you…”

“N-no Morgan I’m-“

I felt like this had been happening all night. Perhaps treading water in Melissa’s wake as she’d worked the crowd had warded them off somewhat, but, inevitably, some of their attention would always fall on me, and it was always too much. Unfailingly my cheeks would warm, and the  praise would make me squirm both inside and out. The siren's call of women outside my - I can’t believe I’m saying this - nuclear family here rang differently. It was sometimes more frightening than anything else, but, as soon as I froze, I’d feel my arm get interlocked with Melissa’s and squeezed playfully in support. I would look up at her, and a wave of affection would wash over me as I studied her flawless, larger-than-life features. She was so beautiful. She was like a living work of art, so gorgeous that-

I nearly forgot where I was. Snapping back to reality, Morgan had knelt, sitting with her knees on the ground beside me and fluffing out her skirts. Before I could react, she grabbed me by the shoulders, and lifted.

“M-Morgan wh-?!?!”

“Shhhh, shhh little doctor,” she cooed, her voice a deep basso profundo as she pulled my head to her enormous chest, “Let nurse Morgan warm you.”

“N-no I…!” Again: Gahh! Though my face had already nearly disappeared into her bodice and all was suddenly just the darkness and heat of Morgan’s cleavage, I knew eyes from around the floor were turning towards us, watching this massive woman curl me into her huge body. 

“Shhh shh shh. Hush, Doctor,” Morgan ordered, “You do not need to be the embarrassed.” She hugged me to her and sighed when she felt me take my first breath from between her fragrant breasts. “Though you are so the cute when you embarrassed…”

That was not the first time I’d been told that tonight. In fact, it was the third…

…

“Look at you,” Melissa had said, appraising me, as we’d stood near one of the bars that evening, among a group of women that included some of my older employees and some of the new ones that had just arrived today, “You’re so cute when you’re embarrassed.”

“Haha I told him the exact same thing earlier,” Katie offered. 

Introductions had been made, but I’d already forgotten the names of the new girls. All four were pretty, with big breasts, wide hips, thin waists. Each a total bombshell in their own right, and all very tall. Almost like they had just came out of the same mold.

“Yeah what is with you tonight?” Melissa laughed, tugging me towards her, “You seem even more flustered and shy than usual.”

“O-oh, I, uh-“ It was true. I’d found myself - never being the most gregarious guy to begin with - even more withdrawn than normal. Just a few minutes ago I’d been forced to speak to and play nice with that Gianna person, the study coordinator, over a big video-screen they'd set up for her, so she could remotely attend this evening. Honestly, it was pretty weird, and I don’t think she liked it either. All in all I was way out of my element, and feeling - yes, for lack of a better word - shy.

“It's okay to be shy, baby. It’s very cute. I like it,” Melissa smiled, petting my face affectionately as the crowd of girls around me tittered. “And I know that when you’re embarrassed you’re very well-behaved, aren’t you?”

Yes, it was belittling, but, even so, I couldn’t help but want more. Without even really thinking, I reached out for her, wanting to touch her, to feel even just the skin of her arm against my fingertips. I was taken by surprise when she met my gesture, placing her hand over mine on her arm, completely consuming my hand with her own, surrounding it with soft warmth.

She purred in approval as the other girls around us watched this intimate moment. “Are you feeling insecure? Is that what´s going on, Jay?” she asked, in a gentle tone.

“No, but… I.  Well, look at m-“

“Oh, awww,” Katie cooed, “he is feeling insecure, isn’t he Missy..?”

“Yes I think you are, sweetie. You’re just nervous around all these people.”

“It’s…it’s not that…” well, it’s a little bit that. The crowd was a bit much for me, and being exposed like this in front of these women I’d just met was unsettling. “I just don't want to be some sort of… freak. I mean, people are filming-” 

“Oh, honey, what do you mean ‘freak’?”

“Like, this thing…attached to me. It’s like a l-“

“Your tether? Oh, c’mon, look around. Lots of guys here are tethered.”

”Yeah, check out Shanette and Scottie. His tether is even shorter than yours,” Katie said, nodding a small distance away. The tall buxom black woman had her boyfriend attached to her dress much like I was to Melissa’s, but even closer. “Or look at the new mayor and her husband.”

”Right, sweetie,” Melissa said down to me indulgently, “They’re not ‘freaks’. “

It’s just their way to show their, like, commitment,” Katie added.

“And if anything,” Melissa continued, “I'm as much of a freak as you are.”

That gave me pause. Did she really feel that way? Absolutely not. “N-no, Melissa,” I spoke, with the eyes of all the surrounding girls upon me, “you´re a tall, beautiful woman. That’s why everyone’s staring at you, taking pictures of you. They’re taking pictures of me because I’m-” 

“Because you´re my handsome boyfriend,” she stopped me, smiling beatifically and stroking my face, “So what's the matter with that?”

”He is really handsome, isn’t he?” Katie chuckled.

The others, part of the brood of new girls from Coronado all chimed in to agree...

”ooo yes very handsome!” 

“Gosh, so handsome!”

“Mwah-mwah I wanna eat him up!”

“Our cute little man!”

“You make us all gush, believe me,” Katie continued, “Every one of us! You’re the most attractive, vulni guy here. I can’t believe Melissa’s not more jealous.”

Melissa giggled.

“Katie, p-please-” I stammered, starting to argue.

“No, I'm not just buttering you up!” she continued, “We were all just talking about you, earlier, saying this before. We’re all just really, really attracted to you.”

“Omigod for sure,” said one of the new girls.

“Totally a hundred percent,” said another.

This was getting concerning. There were - what? - fifty of these new women? And that’s all in addition to the oversized horde that worked here before.

“Yeah, maybe it's my cycle, or I'm in a good mood, but I just can't stop staring!” a third insisted,  “Who picked out your adorable little suit?”

“Ooo I did,” Melissa answered, and with a newly giddy excitement she turned me to face her. “You know…” she began again, straightening my tie for me as I felt the warmth of her immense breasts bathing me from above, “you always look the most handsome when you’re in an outfit that I chose for you.”

“There’s something very attractive about a powerful man who does what he’s told by a woman,” someone said, behind me.

P-powerful? I felt anything but powerful.

“And now look! He’s blushing!” 

“Oh, so handsome!”

“Awww did I make you blush? Do you like it when we call you handsome?”

Cameras all around us were flashing. Melissa spun me to face them.

“You know,” she urged, quietly from behind me, “you should really smile more. You're so cute when you smile, and you should show your teeth. You have an adorable smile when you smile with your teeth.”

I did my best, but I…the pit in my stomach was-

Melissa leaned down over me, right over my right shoulder to look into my face. Her eyes were twinkling in amusement.

“Come on, smile for me!” she urged, “Give me a big smile…!”

Again, as if I was programmed to obey, follow, comply - I curled my mouth into my best smile. I felt my eyes wrinkle, my cheeks blush.

“There you go…so handsome!”” she lauded, “Aren’t you? Hm? Aren’t you my handsome little man?”

God help me I nodded.

“My handsome little man…”

My handsome little man…

…

“…my handsome little man.”

Back on the stage, with my body on her lap and my head at her breast, Morgan had soothed me, and my squirming little body, to sleep.

It would be nice to feel warm again.

=============================================

Growing into the Job, Post 453: Gala, p11

”It’s hard to remember, but there was a time when a woman actually wanted a man who was taller than them, stronger than them, a man who was able to provide,” the reporter from Channel Five declared to the news camera. The station had been given exclusive TV rights to the Far Horizons grand-opening, coordinated by Lexi Samuels and the media and marketing team of Far Horizons. There was other press however, from other outlets scurrying around. Most of them were tagging along behind Melissa just like the small doctor she had on her tether, which attached him to her dress like an accessory forced to trail along behind her. Their cameras and reporters were fixated on the couple, but it was Aly Singleton from WGGB Channel 5 who had snagged Melissa's attention at the moment. 

The coiffed blond, in her own elegant gala dress, mic in hand, continued her report. “Well, everyone, those days are gone. A new taste for ‘vulni’ men has been sweeping the country - even the world! - along with our fascination with tall, strong, powerful women. The couple of the hour? She´s taller than anyone he´s ever seen, and some say stronger than anyone here for sure, while he’s been afflicted with a mysterious condition that has shrunk him more than a foot in several months’ time, a medical curiosity. Are Melissa Monroe and Dr. J the new perfect couple? Let’s take a moment to say hi!”

The camera moved from a Tight On to a Two-Shot. Or, actually, a Three-Shot: the back of Aly’s head and Melissa dominated the screen…but there was Dr. J’s little head down there, just by her hip. 

I feel like such a weakling. The doctor’s eyes betrayed his thoughts as he managed a wan smile for the viewers, while towering above him Melissa Monroe, resplendent in her pink gown, exquisitely done raven hair, and perfect makeup beamed in sharp focus and ebullient smile to the viewers at home. She’d already gushed her greetings directly to Aly and the camera’s hungry eye, while the little man aside her was half-distracted from what the reporter was getting on about. He was told by Lexi that this piece would have a TRT of only a few minutes on tonight’s late-night broadcast, but that the Human Interest factor for he and Melissa was high. Still…why am I doing this?

“So, Melissa,” Aly asked, “what do you think of all this media following you two’s every move?” She held her mic up as high as she could towards the towering bombshell. 

“Well,” Melissa began, shoulders and chest posed perfectly, just like she’d been taught by her team at Evolution to address a camera and properly engage the audience with her body, “I  have to admit: it’s different, and a little strange. But I do kinda like having everyone’s attention focused on us…and me.”

With that, he watched as Melissa shifted her torso in just the most subtle of ways. She was standing with excellent posture, keeping her movements natural and controlled, and unlike himself she knew to avoid excessive gestures or fidgeting. Body language was important on camera, as was eye contact with either the interviewer or, in rare bold moments, the audience. 

And Melissa was feeling bold. For a long second following her answer, she loked down, directly into the camera. Normally, cameras would be positioned at eye level for a flattering angle during an interview. But, Melissa knew that - with her height - its currently low vantage point would provide a dramatic view of her striking upper body. Her boobs would look enormous, and her audience would be in for a treat. 

Aly asked more about how Melissa felt being called half of ‘the perfect couple’. 

“It’s sort of true, isn’t it? We do fit so well together,” Melissa beamed in response, pulling her smaller partner closer into her hip, in what she hoped would appear as a possessive but ultimately affectionate gesture. She knew she’d look like much more than just ‘half’ of this ‘perfect couple’ with him standing beside her. “We complement one another. For now he’s got the brains and I’ve, well…”

Again, Melissa shifted herself subtly, drawing in a slow breath that would make it appear like she was inflating onscreen. The eyes of her target demographic would be dazzled, riveted. Men would rewatch this by themselves, she figured, late at night, pause button on the ready.

“…You’ve definitely got the body!” Aly laughed, completing Melissa’s thought in a ribald aside that may actually make it past the editors. This was already all gold, she knew, and would serve her well once it aired and was seen by the new higher-ups. Even just a year ago, a fluff piece like this would have ended up on the cutting room floor, especially as risqué as it would turn out. These days, though, things were different. The public ate this shit up. Aly Singleton, in fact, decided to go even bolder with her questions, knowing what her viewers would really want to hear. 

”So, what do you say to those that say he looks like a child next to you?” Aly asked, as the cameraman was astute enough to widen the shot a bit, really show just how small Dr. J looked standing aside this tow-

“Yeah like you could be his mom!” someone from the crowd loudly called out, cutting into the interview. 

Despite the interruption Melissa laughed, Aly laughed, anyone in earshot - except for Dr J. himself - laughed. The cameraman went tight on Melissa and her little man

“Oh he likes being babied!” Melissa giggled, pulling Dr. J back to her broad hip, “Don’t you sweetie?”

His discomfit would play great, they all knew, once this aired. 

“Well,” Aly laughed, deciding to go with it, the turn this interview had taken, “You’re certainly built for the job. You’re an Amazon!”

“No, not exactly,” Melissa answered, settling herself and remembering to use a clear, confident voice and avoid filler words like “um” or “uh.” She could pause briefly to collect thoughts before continuing; it made her appear thoughtful and would bring more attention to her serene expression. After a moment, she resumed eye contact with the interviewer, to best connect with the audience. “Without the 10-inch heels I’m an Amazon, Aly,” she said, putting a bit of a sultry bravado into her voice, “with them, I’m a giant. There’s a difference.”

Aly Singleton, without even a second thought, knew how spine tingling that response would be. She didn’t interrupt, and allowed the cameraman to go even tighter on Melissa. Both Aly and Dr. J would now be off-frame, the cam focused right up at the enormous, pneumatic phenomenon that was Melissa Monroe. 

Speaking right to the camera now Melissa addressed her public. “You should all come on down to Far Horizons, come see the giant in person,” she said, and then puckered to blow the camera a big kiss.

Offscreen, the interviewer chuckled nervously. Had this piece suddenly gone beyond the pale? They should probably wrap, if they were smart. Nonetheless, she kept the cameras rolling. "Should that be legal? Bribing people with a kiss?" came Aly’s voice, in jest, still offscreen. 

To that, Melissa just smiled. Leaning forward, she let the light of the camera delve into the depths of her cleavage. “Oh I don’t think anyone would mind,” she said, her voice now complete with a new, husky timbre as she looked down into the camera, "I mean, would you complain?"

<gulp>

“Well, th-there you have it,” Aly said, stepping now in between the camera and the towering beauty, “everyone is invited to come see the beautiful new facility, it’s beautiful staff, and of course…” 

The closing shot would be of Melissa walking away, with her tethered doctor aside her. In it her rear end looked larger than it had any right to be, like its own planet, as if it had its own gravity tugging the little man along in its orbit.

“...Melissa Monroe likes it when she gets her way.”

=================================================

thanks to J2 for the original Melissa image/used with permission. And thanks to RiF for his editing help

Growing into the Job, Post 452:

Everyone had been watching as the small man - who was kneeling below both the colossal, marble-like statue and his tall, beautiful, encouraging Office Manager - leaned in and kissed the foot of the female monolith. As his lips came into contact with the enormous toe cameras were rolling, flashes were flashing. Inwardly, he couldn't help but recoil at the indignity of the moment, but despite (or maybe because of) all this humiliation he had continued to harden in his pants. The ground-shaking appearance of his Office Manager/Girlfriend moments ago at the entrance to the party, even as his ex-wife whispered in his ear, had immediately aroused him, a reflex reaction at this point. Laying his lips to the smooth marble-like material of the statue’s right foot, cool against his lips, was similarly stimulating. It wasn’t stone, to him instead feeling rather somehow more…alive. He knew that his mouth upon it was like a supplication to the new female world order that he’d felt rising all around him, for months now. Was this some kind of betrayal of his beleaguered gender? Was it another step in this process of him giving up all his agency to the women that surrounded him, day in and day out? Probably two ‘yesses’. But, he thought, in a wry aside to himself, it would be just like he’d been told earlier: the cameras are going to love it.

“Stand, little man,” she’d boomed in a voice made deeper and more powerful for the viewing public and target demographic, after urging him into his groveling kiss in the same timbre. Melissa had done her best to keep from laughing - this is kinda silly! - and was able to maintain a pretty straight face through it all. Still though, she had to admit that this was pretty exciting and she found herself cracking the slightest grin  as he finally lifted himself to his feet, stumbling a bit awkwardly. 

“Haha is he really standing??”

“Omigod he’s so short!”

“SHE’S A GIANT!”

The height difference, of course, between herself and her little, middle-aged boyfriend was now dramatic to the extreme. He was just barely over four and a half feet tall while she, in her new, titanium-reinforced 10-inch heels, towered nearly three feet taller than him. He barely came up to her waist, his eyes level with her hips. Despite her obvious strength, despite the manifestly superhuman powers she’d already displayed upon her entrance, it was the mere fact that she was so much bigger than him that seemed to be befuddling him at that moment. She loved that. He blinked, in the most adorable way, as if his little brain was struggling to comprehend their size difference. Even the other women, in their own heels, stood head and shoulders above him making his view of them largely all their healthy, enhanced chests. They were all so much bigger than him. But it was Melissa, Melissa Monroe, the budding celebrity superhuman of the American Midwest that juddered and jarred him, left him flabbergasted and flustered for the crowd and cameras.

“Omigod he’s so cute…”

“Her tits are freaking huge..!”

“Do you think they…y’know…in bed?”

“I’d like to ‘y’know’ him myself..!”

The two of them posed, Melissa and him, for pictures. Sheryl got in there, as did the mayor-elect. Soon other girls, his young staff and all friends of Melissa’s began to drift onstage. The string quartet had started to play again, filling the air with the sound of string instruments. Conversations swelled throughout the room. 

“Did you see what he’s wearing? On his lapel?”

“The clasp? Yeah. Is she going to…?”

“Probably. My husband and I do it, but just in private.”

A waiter, one of the ‘monkeys’ from downstairs in their typical brown coveralls, had appeared on the altar with a full tray of champagne flutes and other drink orders, all of which were handed around. Dr. J received a tumbler of what appeared to be milk.

“Lakshmi your figure looks so good in that dress!” Melissa lauded to her friend and co-worker, as the young, shapely Indian woman took her Amaretto Sour from the sheepish server. The girls had stepped over to join Melissa and Dr. J on the raised altar of the atrium, under the forty-foot statue. She reached out and stroked Lakshmi’s thick dark hair. “What an hourglass you’ve grown!”

“Oh look who’s talking, Miss Birthing Hips over here,” drawled Randi Mongillo, sipping on some whiskey drink Josie had handed her. As the Social Media person for the practice she should probably be streaming this whole deal or something but…whatever. Fuck it. The world was already getting plenty of Missy with all the press and these new fans of hers around. She’d be all over GirlTube and IG tonight even without her help. 

“Who meee??” Melissa giggled, unconsciously draping her arm over Dr. J and pulling him in closer to her side, against said birthing hips. He took a sip of his thick, white drink and nuzzled subtly onto her warmth.

“Yah Missy you do realize, I hope,” Josie piped in, “that when you climbed those steps in front of Channel 5’s camera, you made, like, the entire city want to impregnate you.”

To that, Melissa laughed, a deep and hearty laugh but one with a more reasonable number of decibels. Since her thunder-filled entrance and booming announcement of her presence, she’d since quieted herself. Let everyone party, enjoy themselves around me, she figured. By this point she had everyone’s attention perfectly fine enough. But, yeah…’impregnate’. That word struck a funny little chord with her. She absently pulled Jay even tighter to herself as she felt a fluttering in her belly and a warmth in her chest. So many things she could say, but instead she stayed quiet. 

Dr. J was being unusually quiet himself, having said barely a word since the teasing indignities at the feet of the statue. Despite himself he felt the urge to continue nuzzling into Melissa’s hips; if she’d been wearing a proper, long skirt he may actually have taken himself to wanting to hide under it. Instead, her elegant pink dress had a short skirt in front and was trimmed with unusual, long strips of material behind her that reached the ground and served as almost a train, or cape. He’d found himself idly playing with one of them as he basked in her body heat, taking a big sip from his warm glass of sweet milk (which again tasted more like the protein drinks Melissa had been feeding him). It had been hours since he’d seen her, and a coldness had set into his bones; the milk and being this near to her helped warm him back up. She had such latent strength, competence and mass. He’d seen what her body was capable of and it made him feel safe, comfortable and protected to grasp her skirts like this. If this was a room of superwomen, as he’d mused before, then he was dating the most super of them all.

“Are you playing with my dress back there?” Melissa eventually cooed, giggling as she noticed he’d actually taken to hiding himself behind her. She shifted, her hand finding the back of his head, and urged him forward back into the conversation of women. “C’mon sweetie, no hiding behind mommy.” Ooo! Did I just call myself that? 

To that, the assembled girls giggled. He took a big swig from his tumbler glass, which looked large in his hand. 

“Enjoying your milk, aren’t you hun?” someone cooed.

He took another gulp, nervously still playing with the material of Melissa’s dress. The last few hours had certainly taken a toll on the poor man, and the surrounding women circled him with concern.

“Maybe you should take it easy, not drink so fast,” Melissa warned, “I may have to burp you.” 

“Ha the cameras would love that,” Randi quipped, reaching down herself to caress his cheek, “Wouldn’t they, little guy?”

Melissa giggled, and stroked his head affectionately. “Hm yeah, would they like that? To watch me put you over my shoulder and burp you?”

The gaggle of them tittered as he blushed, so adorably. 

“So, what’s everybody doing this weekend?” someone eventually asked.

”Well, for me, some finance bro from the bank found out I played tennis in high school, said he played in college,” offered Josie. She and Lakshmi had sobered, a bit, after being with Dr. J earlier. “And he challenged me to a match. So I guess I’m doing that.”

“Ooo can I come watch?” Lakshmi cooed, tasting her drink. 

“I didn’t know you were a jock,” Randi nodded, sipping on her own whisky. She’d been a soccer player herself as a teen, before she found weed. “Were you any good?”

“In high school? Totally not.”

“But now?”

“I’m going to absolutely kill him.”

“How about you Dr J?” asked  Lakshmi, “What do you have planned?”

The presence of so many women tonight, even this crowd with whom he’d shared intimate time and come to know so well, was making him quiet, reticent to talk.

“He’s being so shy I love it.”

“I think he is sort of shell shocked,” Lakshmi worried, perhaps a bit contrite, “He has been through a lot tonight.”

“But tell, us, hun,” Randi asked, in an uncharacteristically syrupy tone, “What are you doing this weekend?”

Still he was quiet.

Melissa felt a new fluttering in her chest, and the urge to scoop him up into her arms. Rather than that, though, she decided to answer for him, petting his head again affectionately. “It was going to be a surprise,” she said, “but he’s taking me out car shopping.”

“Oooo...that’s cool.”

“Aw. The beemer’s getting too small?”

“Yeah it seems so tiny to me now,” answered Melissa. Just like everything else does, “I need something more, like, me-sized.”

“Would you be excited, sweetie,” Randi said, crouching down with hands on knees so she could look him in the face, “to ride in the backseat of Missy’s new car?”

Jay stood confused. This was Randi. Was she teasing him, or being actually, genuinely tender? Unable to tell himself, he just looked away from Randi’s eyes and up to Melissa.

“Oh, Missy, look at the way he looks at you!” Lakshmi squealed, “He is so, like, intent on you, he adores you. I hope someday I can have someone that looks at me like that.”

“Yeah we need boyfriends,” Josie joked, stroking Dr. J’s face tenderly, “Missy takes up so much of this one’s time.”

“Oh, you all are already just the best Mommy Girlfriends for him,” Melissa giggled, “Aren’t they, pumpkin?”

He looked up, around, and was baffled by how gorgeous these young women were. Are they really all my girlfriends? he thought, Is Melissa really that generous? And then, darker concerns began to surface. Could that actually be love, what they had between them, her being okay with him so non-exclusive like that?

“Speaking of Mommy Girlfriends,” Randi asked, standing up straight again, “where’s Shanette?”

“Scottie had been drinking a lot,” Josie answered, “I think she had to take him to the little boys’ room.”

“He needed a changing?”

“Yeah maybe.”

All the girls giggled, and Melissa pulled Jay into her hip again. “See, honey? Other girls get to help in the bathroom…”

Dr. J had let go of the strip of fabric from Melissa’s skirt, and now put his hand on her bare leg. The sudden sensation of his little fingers pressing into her powerful thigh muscles and rubbing the soft skin was a delight.

“Speaking of changing - Kiki, what’s going on?” Randi asked, “Your dumper looks even  bigger than it did just twenty minutes ago.”

“Yes,” Lakshmi replied, with a mischievous glint in her eye. She was obviously still a little drunk. “I have…haha put on a little weight tonight.”

“Oh my god Kiki you have to stop it with those cocktails,” Josie scolded.

“Seriously girls you’ve all been drinking,” Melissa chimed in, “And there’s people here, the news. We have to be careful about showing off what you can do.”

“Says the girl who just caused a minor earthquake when she walked into the room,” Randi cracked.

“I couldn’t help it,” Melissa giggled, “it felt really good and I figured I’d make an entrance.” And besides, that was nothing. I bet I could have knocked everyone flat if I didn’t hold back. “Anyway, we should go mingle. Can someone find the tether on my dress? The one with the little clip?”

Stepping behind Melissa, Josie crouched to take hold of one of the long strips of Melissa’s dress. They all ran from her skirt to the floor, but she found the one that had a metal clasp at the end. She stood, and showed it to Melissa. “This one?”

“Yes!” Melissa extolled, “can you clip it to him?”

Josie laughed. “Haha no, I think you should do the honors, Missy. That’d be what your adoring public wants.” She handed the clasp at the end of one of the strips of fabric, which was about four feet long and attached just above where Missy’s shelflike swell of rear met her lower back, to Melissa. 

“Okay honey,” Melissa said sweetly, looking down at her trembling little suitor and eyeing the metal loop pinned to his lapel. She was pleased that Katie had remembered to put it on him. “Come here.”

Suddenly he looked doubtful, and shrank back a touch. “Uhhhh…”

“Do you know what’s going on, Dr J?” Randi drawled. Perhaps it was the whisky but her voice had dropped to become even more smoky and deep as she watched her enormous friend snake her hand down to his upper back and pull him back to her, steady him. Missy’s other hand still held the clip. “She’s about to tether you to herself.”

Melissa looked down at him, and tried to read his face, what he was thinking. He knows what’s going on but he also doesn’t really know what’s going on, she thought, And that’s okay for now. 

A few camera flashes came from the crowd on the floor; Josie was right: people were obviously watching. Melissa knew that this impromptu little ceremony was sure to show up on social media tonight. People will probably wonder if this is his first tethering or if we do this together in private, at home. 

Her hand left his back and went to his lapel, where she fingered the metal ring pinned to it for a moment before <snap> attaching it to her dress’ long tether. She smiled, looking down at him, and inspected her handiwork. 

“There you go,” she said, with the most gorgeous of smiles and impish dimples, “now you can’t get away.”

Another trend in fashion developing alongside ‘Carrier Dresses’. - women displaying small dolls (or ‘manikins’) in their cleavage, strapped in - was the practice of ‘Tethering’. It had started as a dominatrix exercise, but was now becoming a little fashion thing even for the general public. Strings or cords were being built into women’s clothing that they could playfully tie to their partner or clip to him, like Melissa had just done with Dr. J. Sometimes it was at the lapel, sometimes around the wrist, just to playfully show off in public that two were a couple, connected. Behind closed doors, though, versions that were used just in private began to appear. Many times it became more than just one cord, but several. One sometimes clipped to a collar around the neck. And the cords began to get a little shorter. “Lashing” it was called, and outfits were becoming popular that had cords and straps that allowed a woman to attach and bind their partner - be it husband, boyfriend, or just someone paying for the experience - to themselves. 

“Is this your first tethering, Dr. J?” Lakshmi asked, a bit eager. That <snap> a few seconds ago, the sound of Melissa’s clip attaching to his, had momentarily taken her breath away. 

“This is, in fact,” Melissa answered for him, struggling a bit to contain her giddiness, “but I think it’s going to be happening more, hm?”

“Yeah you’re going to want to be lashed to Mommy pretty soon, huh Daddy?” Josie breathed. Her friends had thought, maybe, that the fever-dream impulses of the ‘Cloud Nine’ lollipop had finally worn off. Maybe not.  

“Ooo we’ve tried that already, haven’t we sweetie?” Melissa answered, “Remember when I strapped you to me with my bra?” She giggled, recalling most recently just a few nights ago in her mother’s kitchen, the night she broke the dining room table. “That was fun. Now, darling, come along,” she said, suppressing another giggle, “We have a party to attend.”

He looked up at her and could see the glint in her gemstone eyes before she turned and gave him an eye-popping view of her gigantic ass, shoulder-high to him and rolling like thunder as she started to walk; she knew he wouldn’t be able to do anything but freeze and gape. With the clasping of his jacket to her dress, she had effectively claimed him for all the world to see. Now, she was about to demonstrate her claim.

She didn’t need to take even two steps before the tether was pulled tight. 

Truthfully, the tether had some play. It was elastic, a bit, and stretched a bit beyond its yard-or-so of material before it was taut. But then it yanked him forward.

“Whoah..!” he exclaimed, suddenly surprised and stumbling one-two-three steps towards her.

Melissa paused in her stride and looked down over her shoulder at him. She was holding back yet another chuckle even as her friends around them snickered at his new plight. Her eyes, though, glittered with excitement and betrayed both her amusement and a sense of marvel; he was so small, so light, and it had felt like barely anything, pulling his weight with her rear. She allowed him to recover, right himself.

“Are you okay, hun?” she asked, managing to keep a straight face. When he’d found his balance again, his feet underneath him, she added; “You’ll have to learn to keep up.”

He’s looking at my butt again. She cocked her hips, in just the right way, making it look even bigger for him.

“Wh-what?” he stammered. 

That did it. She giggled. “Sorry, I distracted you,” she tittered, reaching back now to take hold of his arm, then and then the other. I know I shouldn't ask the impossible of these poor fragile people. She lifted him, and then spun him to face her, with the toes of his rented shoes dangling quite a bit off the ground.  A wide grin adorned her face and she pressed her lips firmly against his. For the cameras? It really wasn't important. His eyes rolled back into his head just the same.

She put him down beside her and took his hand so she could pull him along aside her and begin, again, to walk. Only then did he finally seem to snap back to reality. “I’ll help you for now, okay hun?” she assured him, “I’ll walk along with you instead of tugging you behind me.” 

A even wider grin lit her face as she guided him to the steps, and down into the waiting, adoring crowd…

==========================================

thank you to GBHmax for his va-va-vooming of the image, and RiF for his edits

Growing into the Job, Post 451: Gala, p9

Melissa had entered the building...

 Immediately, she saw the awe in their eyes. Women she knew, women she didn’t, and of course all the men. She had friends here, employees. There were leaders from the community, reporters, and a host of others. To a person, each was astonished by her appearance. And yet, she knew: they all like me this way. In a strange way, it reminded her of when she was school-aged and first developed her more womanly features, and began to learn the allure her appearance had to some of her peers. Her early curves in middle school, of course, were nothing compared to her heart-stopping build of today, though still it was like she had come into possession of something they all desperately wanted. Walking into class among middle-school boys had given her a taste, a hint, a similar feeling to the astonishment she felt from the crowd tonight.

She couldn't really blame them. She’d put some time into embellishing her appearance tonight, and she knew she looked good. Her team at Evolution had designed her an evening dress for the occasion, a gown of dark pink, cut and and patterned to call to mind the top which she’d worn in the TV interview. I have a signature look, something they all like seeing me in, she’d thought, echoing what she’d been told by her design people, so I’ll give them what they want, at least for now. Thick halter-top straps served to gather the bodice of the dress, which plunged low down and attached behind her neck to support her. Both of her long, shapely arms were bare as was much of her muscled back, but for all the exposed flesh not a single blemish was visible. The tan skin of her neck was as flawless as that of her arms, and as flawless as the other visible portions of her torso.

As perfect as it was, though, Melissa was well aware that it was not her complexion that drew hungry attention to the area of her body beneath her chin. Her breasts were beyond compare, at this point, with possibly any other woman on the planet. Their generous size, particularly given their unworldly firmness and the way they stood out so high and so proud on her chest, would have made any female into an object of lust. On a frame as athletically shapely as hers, though, both powerful and slender, they appeared even more dramatic. The scope and outline of their perfect roundness was clearly defined beneath the patterned fabric, while the cut of the garment left the inner part of her bosoms on display, an acre of firm, immaculate cleavage bordered by the most luscious of luscious curves.

She loved how the tight dress also showed off her remarkably flat waist, its narrowness made all the more obvious by the way the sides of her body curved so wonderfully inwards beneath her bust and then, equally majestically, flared outwards at her round hips. The stunning undulating lines continued down her body, beginning to define her firm thighs before ending in front at the gown’s hem, well above her knees. More immaculate flesh could be seen beneath, her beautiful and strong and mind-bendingly long legs tapering into delicate-looking ankles. In place of a proper, longer skirt, a number of thin strips of material ran down from her well-developed backside as if an outline of a low cape. Nearly unnoticeable, one ribbon of it had an small, unusual metal clip on its end. 

Hard as it would be to peel one’s eyes away from the scan of her body’s magnificence, she wanted those that managed to be drawn up to her long slender neck and her beautifully feminine features. Her full, painted lips separated into a munificent smile that showcased two rows of dazzling, perfectly white and perfectly straight teeth. An immaculately shaped and proportioned nose separated two startlingly bright, green-and-golden eyes with long, thick lashes and subtle, delicately arched brows. The whole, flawless face was crowned and framed by her lustrous hair – dark and long and worn loose in great waves, out of which large hoop earrings glittered. In all, if Melissa Monroe had wanted to be breathtaking tonight, she’d achieved her goal in spades. 

Her appearance, though, had just interrupted some ceremony up at the feet of the huge statue, which was dramatically lit and towering above all these little people. Jay was up there, on his knees, looking sheepish and as if he’d been just about to - haha omigod I’m so glad I didn’t miss this - kiss the feet of the statue. The crowd had been partying in the huge stone atrium of the newly reconstructed facility, but much of their focus had been up there, watching what they were making him do. But now the attention is all on me. Good.  

A delighted giggle escaped her as camera flashes went off. Reaching up she covered her mouth for a moment and gave her fingers a slight kiss. She then extended her hand up towards the crowd and proceeded to gently blow upon it. Those before her gave a slight jump as the wind proved more powerful then they had expected. Indeed for a moment some of them felt like their feet could lift off the ground, but fortunately she relented before anyone was sent flying through the air. Once the wind subsided all they could do was gape at her as she lifted her chin and smiled across the room, now at him.

As he watched she again puckered her lips, which she knew that even from this distance he could see were painted thick and glossy, a deep pink to match her dress. Perfect to cover you with lipstick kisses later, she promised. In another embellished peck to her fingertips she raised the kiss to him and blew, stronger this time but directed to where he knelt. She giggled again when - even from this great distance - she saw his hair ruffle, his eyes squint and face recoil against the force of her breath. She’d just blown him a kiss from a hundred feet away, and it nearly knocked him off his feet. Well, knees. 

She’d already told them, on her entrance, not to stop whatever it was they were doing on her account, but of course they did anyway. People tend to do that these days, yield to her whims, even if she hadn’t told them what they were yet. And so, the ceremony up at the statue had paused, waiting for her. 

Might as well make a show of it. 

Lifting up a huge leg, Melissa briefly posed before lowering it back down for her first step forward. It hit the ground with a thud that she made sure they all felt through the floor. These new pumps are great, she mused, they give me an extra ten inches and they don’t look like titanium at all. 

The crowd parted for her as she came in, each footfall shaking the ground around her. Husbands’ jaws were agog and it was strange but the wives didn't seem to mind. Melissa Monroe, standing well over seven feet tall and now by far the biggest person in the room, was built like another type of being and oozed a weird energy that they all felt, and were taking heed. 

If all eyes, though, were on her as she made her slow, thunderous approach towards the statue’s altar, her gaze was fixed on Dr. J. As soon as she’d laid eyes on him she’d felt it; she’d begun to heat up and as she got closer all she could see was the prime specimen of a man that was pulling her like a magnet towards him. He looked adorable, but actually in fact all the men here looked adorable. Just like I like them: small, weak, and trembling on their knees for me. She took a pause to rethink herself for a moment. Well, not on their knees yet, all of them. But trembling. 

<BOOM BOOM BOOM> were her stepfalls. 

She looked at him, though, and set her sights on him. His ex-wife, Sheryl, was standing aside where he was knelt, and she was speaking into his ear. Even from this distance, Melissa was able hear what she was saying by focusing her now superhuman auditory senses, somehow picking Sheryl’s voice out from all the others in the surrounding room:

“She’s magnificent, isn’t she, Jay?” Sheryl was saying, “She totally is. But, yeah…she ruined you, huh? When she came along, that was the end of your old world, really, wasn’t it?” 

<BOOM> Melissa smiled. Sheryl’s great.

“Well, don’t be sad, hun. We all know that the world you knew is gone,” Sheryl was still telling him, as she raised a hand to gesture Melissa’s way, “but that doesn’t mean you’re not an important part of the new world…”

<BOOM BOOM> ooo she was getting excited. She tried her best to keep her pace steady, relaxed, and not run right at him.

“Yeah, Jay, you make her happy, you make her stronger,“ she’d said, pointing right at Melissa as she approached in her ever-growing glory, “and when she gets stronger, well…we all get stronger.”

<BOOM BOOM BOOM> haha omigod it’s true. He’s everything to me!!

Why, though, him? she thought, in a quick moment of reflection as her long strides had taken her already nearly halfway across the room and through the wonderstruck crowd, Why does he have this effect on me? Why does he turn me on like this? At some point some small person had handed her a glass of champagne. She downed it in one easy swig and handed the empty glass to another. Is it because he´s just so perfect? He was perfect for her; it was as if they were crafted, or hand-chosen for one another. There were other possibilities, though, that she considered. Was it because she had never prioritized her sexual life, and now it was awakening? Had she come to a point where everything turned her on? Would any small, submissive man make her feel like this? No…It´s him, just him. Everything she knew about Jay, and everything she hadn’t yet seen, it was all exhilarating to her. I love him, she knew, and her footfalls became more purposeful, even more like thunder. 

<BOOM!!!> she made sure her last step through the crowd was the most resounding of them all, so that not only he but the whole building around him acknowledged her presence. Steel girders, the bones of the building, shook just like his.

Yes, she loved him. Still, though, she enjoyed the adoration of the crowd, and as she reached the first of several steps that led up to the statue’s platform, she made sure to sway her hips from side to side on her ascent. She’d given them her long, single-minded steps on her walk up here, wanting them all to see her bare, powerful legs, the entirety of them. But now her robust calves, her shapely thighs, and her fleshy hips took her up the steps and all eyes were on her huge, heart-shaped behind. Melissa Monroe had been using her boobs and butt as hypnotic focuses for years, and they’d always been passively captivating. Now, though, with the prion in everyone’s neurons and with her enormous growth, she felt how their power had expanded apace with their volume. The bigger she got, the harder it seemed to be for people to resist her. And, not only had she gotten very big…I’m still growing. 

At the top of the steps she paused, allowing the crowd and the cameras one more chance to admire her from behind. Her tight waist stood in sharp contrast to wide hips and a mountainous ass, and many of those below her gaped. She loved the way her beauty could both awe and arouse, and when she looked down into the face of the small man kneeling now not only at the feet of the statue but at hers, she saw both in his eyes: awe and arousal. 

“Hi honey,” she giggled. 

“H-h-hi…” he stammered. She loved how he was as gobsmacked as the rest of them. Awestruck as he was, though, he began to shift, one hand going to a thigh and one leg beginning to lift as he was beginning to try to st-

“No no no, sweetie, don’t get up just on account of me,” she said, while in the same moment she lifted one huge leg to raise one huge foot to plant on his little left shoulder. With it, she pushed him back down, and immediately saw the flashes of cameras going off from behind her. In a sudden, dark rush of authority that felt at the same time both naughty and perfectly apropos, she felt her smile turn to a grin and she told him in a voice that boomed loud enough to shake the news cameras, and rattle their operators: “Kneel.”

She watched with amazement as he did just that, in front of all the cameras, in front of all the crowd. In front of their friends and coworkers and the entire city, really, he knelt back down before her. This will look great on Channel 5, she mused in quiet excitement as - does he even know he’s doing this? - his head actually began to bow. At first his eyes, she saw, had been raised to keep her gaze, but they had since fallen and now he seemed to be looking down. She lowered her leg again so he could stare at both her feet. In a wild, giddy rush of predomination she considered having him anoint her feet with his kisses instead of the statue’s, to show the world really how the bread was to be buttered around here. In the end, though, she allowed him only a few long moments, just enough for some good camera ops, to stare at her size 15 feet before moving him on to those of the statue’s.

“Okay, sweetie let’s see it,” she urged, “kiss the giant lady’s footsies and then I’ll let you buy me a drink.”

======================

Growing into the Job, Post 450: Gala, p8

The room was buzzing with activity.

“OMG! You missed the girl fight.”

 I stumbled on my feet, still half-drunk off the afterglow of Lakshmi’s and Josie's attentions.

“We had to tear Amelia and Angie apart.”

The giggly pair slowly led me through the atrium, the crowd parting for them as  the chatter throughout the gathering washed over me.

“Angie got scratched, bad.”

“Yeah Why would they put ‘Rage Red’ lollipops on a snack tray at a party?”

“I don’t know they’re weird.”

“Where’s Melissa Monroe? Has she shown up yet?”

“I dunno I haven’t seen her.”

“Is Amelia alright?”

“Are you kidding? She’s fine. Probably painting her nails.”

“Omigod look at him he’s so adorable! Is that the doctor that works here?”

“I hear he’s shrinking.”

““Where are they now?”

“We threw Angie out, put her in an Uber. She was, like, frothing. Talking about a lawsuit.”

“Yeah and Aubrey took Amelia back into the office, trying to chill her out. I think she finally got her to pull her claws back in.”

Those were among the conversations I overheard. Some were more concerning than others though all tended to go in one ear and out the other as I was ushered out of and away from the Evolution wing. Lakshmi and Josie had accosted me just a little while ago and, uh, cleared my mind a bit before delivering me back to Randi and the others. The girls had brought me up to where I was made to crouch and find myself on my knees under the enormous female statue overseeing this grand-opening gala. They’d made sure I’d faced the crowd at first, in perfect position for the cameras which were starting to gather at the steps of the raised dais with the promise of a little show. I glanced at the stone statue’s enormous right foot, at more than six feet long, it was bigger than myself by far. I was knelt between it and its twin, surrounded by the women that escorted me here, all standing over me. The cold marble of the platform was hard on my brittle knees.  

At first I’d struggled, argued, fretted over what they’d told me they wanted me to do. They laughed, and chided, and insisted I shouldn’t take it all so seriously. It’s just for fun, they said. A mock little ceremony, just for the cameras. 

Right. 

I felt someone’s hand on my shoulder, keeping me in place as the cameras began to go off. Though the string quartet had been told to stop playing, the din of conversation continued to reverberate throughout the room. Sheryl, my ex-wife and owner of this whole building was addressing the gathered press and partygoers, thanking them all for coming and offering more adulations that I wasn’t even attempting to follow. Instead, trying my best to mentally remove myself from the situation, I looked out at the room and had my thoughts about the gathered crowd tonight. There were so many people, many I knew, and many I didn’t. The smattering of men seemed almost like paltry shadows while the women, almost to a person, were vibrant and gorgeous. Nearly all the Far Horizons girls, new and old, were tall and busty and beautiful. There were nearly a hundred of them now, some I’d worked with, and othersI soon would. Each and every one of them were traffic-stopping…but I’d begun to notice contrasts. 

I should have been familiar with what had happened to my staff, how they’ve all grown in unbelievable, frankly unexplainable ways in such a short time, and I was, to some extent; I’d somehow come to accept it. Though, there was something about these newer women, the horde of fifty or so that had come off the bus earlier today. They seemed different. It was like an alternate version of tall, busty and beautiful. Another flavor of Amazon. If anything, my impression was that this new brood seemed less individual and unique. My current staff had their idiosyncrasies, their features that made them stand out from the crowd. Marisela had her dark, gothic vibe, Amelia her nails and golden goddess looks. Lakshmi had her, uh, butt. These new women were more, I dunno…Stepford wives-ish? Gorgeous, yes, tall and healthy and young and strong. Don’t get me wrong: they weren’t, like, clones of each other or anything. They were girls of different skin colors and ethnicities, blondes and redheads and brunettes, but they all seemed to carry some similar energy, they shared a common look, and maybe even wore similar expressions. Maybe it was just because I didn’t know them yet, where many of my current staff - I thought back on events of just this evening, with Josie and Lakshmi, with Katie and Lexi - I had to admit I knew, uh, very well. 

The thought crossed my mind: am I going to have to “get to know” all these women here, eventually?? The idea was daunting, and as I sat on my knees looking out over the mass of them I was awed. Maybe it was just because I was seeing them all from my shrunken, submissive vantage, but these women were all astonishing, formidable and - as an assembled swarm - slightly terrifying. I realized then what I’d already long suspected: I was living among superhumans. I was looking over a crowd of women where many had ascended above their base humanity and were becoming something greater. Not just taller, stronger. Many of these women had fucking superpowers. Josie with her hair, Randi with her mouth. Lakshmi with her, uh, butt. I knew I should just admit it:  this place, Far Horizons, the cutting-edge medical center that used to be my small-time geriatrics practice, had become a seed bed for some New World Order. Was I just paranoid? I had to be, right? If it was true, though, who were these women supposed to be? Some sort of super-soldiers in an upcoming Battle of the Sexes? Leaders or juggernauts? Or were all women foreordained to become superpeople? It sounded implausible. More than that, it sounded absurd, but now, here among them all, I knew it to be true: Far Horizons was a nest, a breeding ground, and I was living in the middle of it. 

Like some kept little thing, I continued to kneel. I tried my best not to shake as the stone of the platform had started to work away at my frail knees. 

“How are you feeling down there?” came her voice in my left ear. Without even looking I knew it was Sheryl, my ex-wife, owner of this facility and ostensibly my boss...

She was done with her address to the crowd and had coquettishly leaned over to whisper her regards. I could hear the triumphant smile in her voice: she loved this shit, seeing me debased like this. Revenge, for her, had been sweet. To her credit, though, she was restraining her laugh even as she savored what had become of me.

“You realize it’s too late, don’t you?” she asked, continuing to whisper into my ear and let me wide-eyed look over the seemingly endless swarm of women, bristling and buzzing with a latent, burgeoning power. They were all looking at me, and at Nancy Nunez again, who had once more taken to speak alongside me to the gala. “You can’t stop it now, even if you tried,” Sheryl said. Was she reading my mind (like I was worried Melissa was starting to do)? Did she telepathically glean that I was kneeling there and considering my lowly place among this legion of superwomen? Or was the pathetically awestruck look on my face all she needed to know exactly what I was thinking?

“No, you’re powerless now, Jay, you can’t stop us, you can’t stop anything,” she continued, in her private whisper, “We’re going to be so much fucking bigger than you, in every single way, and you can’t do anything about it.” She took a moment to pause as she felt me shiver and allowed herself a little chuckle: “And, anyway, would you want to stop it? No, this is your dream, isn’t it, Jay? Your secret fantasy? To be surrounded by huge, powerful women? To be dominated, ruled? You’ve always wanted this, haven’t you? You have, you have…and now you’re getting it.”

“Oh my god, Sh-Sh-Sheryl…” I moaned, finally able to speak, “Please don’t make me do this.”

That made her chuckle again. She took a deep breath and backed away from my ear a bit. “Look up at me, Jay.” she said, plainly. 

To this point I hadn’t dared turn my head, and I hesitated still, worried what I might see, how I would react. 

No I don’t want to.

“I said,” she commanded, her voice becoming stern, “look at me.”

I flinched at her tone. It was, though, as if I’d now been programmed to obey women. Maybe I had. Meekly, I turned my head slowly to the left, my eyes taking in the elegance of my blonde ex-wife, elegant of hair and makeup. Bent at the waist, but still towering down over where I knelt kowtowed, her size made me question if she’d gotten any taller, because to my shrimpy 4-foot-7 she looked enormous. She smiled as my lecherous eyes went to her breasts. They looked enormous, they were enormous, and she’d dressed to display them and leave no doubt as to their size. Years ago, when we were first married, knowing the impact that a nice torso could have for her work, and - frankly - willing to indulge my requests, she’d had gotten implants, albeit modest ones…certainly nothing that gave her size like this. She saw my eyes take them in, suddenly fixating on them in her white party dress, and she grinned.

“That’s right, there they are. Go ahead and stare…” she gloated, firmly but still quietly enough that only I could hear her as the mayor-elect continued to address the camera. “Look at me, look how much I’ve already grown, Jay,” she exulted, “Because of this Product I’m getting bigger, taller, smarter every day. Every day I wake up and I’m better. Every day I wake up, I’m stronger. I look at my accounts and I’m richer. And you? Look at you. You’re being left behind little man. I've left you behind, and you’ve crawled, shrinking into your little burrow while I’m taking everything over.”

My bones began to quake; I was terrified of Sheryl, yes, but I quickly realized I was terrified of every woman in the room…and they were all surrounding me. I felt Sheryl's hot breath on my ear, but before she could deprecate me any further, I caught the tone of Nancy Nunez’ speech suddenly changing and heard her turn towards me.

“Now then, I think we have a statue to christen!” she exulted, looking slyly back and down at me from about eight feet away. Sheryl was still bent at my side, and, on cue, stood to face the crowd. With a smirk, she eyed statue’s enormous right foot opposite of her, to my right.  “And who better to do the honors than the good doctor here, the man who - well - just look at him! The man who has given up so much for the cause…”

Hoots and hollers and laughter erupted from the crowd. My staff cheered for me; I heard my name being shouted and shrieked. Light bulbs flashed, and I felt Sheryl’s firm hand on my shoulder. 

“We should get them all in line,” I heard a loud female voice announce, “get all the men here to do it!”

“YEAH!” someone - well, lots of someones - agreed.

“The cameras are going to love this…” I heard Sheryl whisper down to me as the strength of her grip increased and I felt her gently start to push me down. I was meant to turn, to my right, towards the huge stone foot of the statue…and…

“KISS IT, LITTLE MAN!” came a demand.

“KISS IT NOW!!” laughed another.

Sheryl’s strength was urging me down towards the foot, but I was purposed to do this on my own. And, god help me, I felt myself leaning in, slowly approaching its smooth, gleaming surface. It looked like statuary marble but was actually a compound I didn’t quite understand. Toes were huge, leading to an astonishing arch of the foot. A monumental ankle ran up to an immense calf and then a titanic knee. Above that stone fabric covered colossal thighs and the rest of the statue soared above me to the heavens leaving me kneeling beneath its skirts. I looked back at the foot and-

“KISS IT!!” the crowd commanded, repeating it, chanting it, and with barely any resistance left in me I leaned in until my lips were nearly upon-

Suddenly a thunderous boom, an earthquake, and a gasp went through the room. The calls for my obsequience abated, and I paused to look up.

Melissa, through the huge main entrance, had arrived.

Immediately, even as all eyes went to her, I saw her gaze find me, and from across more than a hundred feet and over a crowd of people, our eyes met. She saw what I was about to do, and she grinned.

Her voice, louder tenfold than it had any right to be, carried over the crowd and commanded the room, though its tone was one meant entirely for me:

‘Don’t let me stop you,” she boomed, and with footsteps that shook the ground began to enter the room…

============================================

continued at my Patreon...

Growing into the Job, Post 449: Gala, p7 (Interlude re:Rina)

“Who is she again?” Randi asked, taking another swig of champagne as she looked across the crowded atrium. From where she and Marisela now stood, on the raised platform under the statue, it wasn’t necessarily easy to pick the girl out, another curvy figure in a sea of curvy figures. Though Marisela had better eyes than her, Randi had finally been able to spot the red dress after Marisela had shown her a post from the girl. Apparently it was from the ladies room here, taken an hour or so ago. The mayor-elect’s impromptu address had ended a while ago, and Randi had sent Josie and Lakshmi off to find Dr. J. Nancy Nunez had called out looking for him, wanting him up at the foot of the statue with her to ‘christen’ it, whatever the fuck that meant. 

Where had he gone? How had he slipped away? Weird. 

“That’s Rina, Rina Rubens,” Marisela answered, “She used to work here like, four years or whatever ago.”

“She’s the girl Dr. J had an affair with, that we hear about?” Randi queried, now watching the well-built woman mingling, talking with a group of Far Horizons girls that had come from Evolution in their early waves of hiring - Lexi, Nadia and Mallory. Rina was dark of long, straight hair and wearing a tight red cocktail dress that made clear what Dr. J’s attraction would have been. “She’s the one that…”

“Yeah, freaked out when he had to break it off with her,” Marisela confirmed. She was sipping on a seltzer. “She basically stormed right into the main office that morning and announced to everybody what their, uh, relationship was like.”

“And that was..?”

Marisela chuckled, remembering Rina’s heated but eloquent diatribe, where - in no uncertain terms - she laid out the depth and breadth of their boss’ infantile fetishes and fixations, for all to hear. “Let’s just say he’d been Rina’s good little boy wayyy before Melissa ever got to him.” 

“I hear she was a new mom back then,” Randi posited, “breastfeeding her kid…”

“...yeah and apparently our boss, too,” Marisela quipped, in her typically dry tone. 

Both she and Randi carefully eyed the woman, who had drifted to the edges of the crowd, each privately feeling a little pang of something that felt like envy. They saw Rina was now speaking with an older lady that neither of them knew. 

“What happened after that?”

“Oh, yeah, she quit right there, stormed out,” Marisela answered, “most of us lost touch with her.” The fight they’d just witnessed and, had to break up had stirred Marisela’s juices. She paused, taking a moment to to flex her bare, elegantly muscled back; it was a bit of a struggle to keep herself in check but the last thing she wanted was for those things to burst out of her shoulder blades with News Channel 5 around. “All I know is that she was eventually hired at Evolution, worked actually on our study as a compliance officer.”

“What’s that mean?”

“Like, she helped get the Product approved by the FDA. She just got a promotion, I hear.”

“Ah. So she’s like an executive now?”

“Yeah supposedly. She’ll have an office here, in the new wing,” Marisela answered, “She starts here Monday.”

“So, this woman, four years ago. She, like, single-handedly destroyed all the respect Dr. J had in the eyes of his staff, left, and now she’s coming back to work under the same roof as him again, now as an executive for the pharmaceutical company whose purse strings keep his practice afloat and basically writes his paycheck?”

“Yeah I guess.”

Randi’s skeptical, serious tone suddenly shifted.

“Holy shit, how fun!”

“Haha, yeah,” Marisela agreed. Both young women, in their nearly-matching black dresses, sipped their drinks in thought.

“Better to keep Dr. J away from her, you think?” Marisela finally offered.

“Yeah probably, at least at first.”

===========================================

thanks to ResistandeIsFutile for the edits

The physician - disgraced, some would say - ran clumsily through the darkened back hallways of the new wing of the medical facility, while a grand-opening gala grew ever-more celebratory in the building’s soaring main atrium. He’d worked here for much of his adult life but these new corridors were like mazes to him. The sensation of his oversized, flaccid penis hanging out of the fly of his rented suit pants rhythmically slapping against his thigh barely registered to him. His mind was a haphazard maelstrom as memories of the last - ten minutes? hour? - began to slowly slip through his fingers. Lost in the confusion, he tried desperately to handle them and come to grips with what had just happened.

That was Olivia, wasn’t it?? his addled brain vaguely rationalized. The woman who’d just been speaking to him had loomed large in his mind, but his recent recollections of her were starting to dissipate like smoke. Is she back from Japan?? What was she telling me??

That some strange eldritch manipulation had cursed him with a brain worm was lost on him. As it bored into him it made him doubt his rudder, that which he had come to rely on as the most stable thing in his otherwise disintegrating life, his relationship with his Office Manager, Melissa. She was tall, strong, the most utterly gorgeous woman he’d ever seen - but the more he thought about how beautiful she was, the more he questioned his intentions..  Was he actually in love with her? She was undereducated, possibly psychologically unstable, and a terrible speller. Maybe it was true, what they - who were they again? - had told him just a few minutes ago…or was it a few hours? Maybe all he did see in Melissa was-

Right or left here?!? Right or Left?!!!?

His brain was jolted back to reality as it was suddenly forced to make the decision. He took off stumbling down the right hallway; it was better lit. 

If it wasn’t love, though, between he and Melissa - if all he was interested in was her tits - why was it her that he felt he needed to find, in this moment of panic? What was it that he needed??

And why had that tall red-headed lady - Olivia, right? - come to me with all that? He was starting to forget the actual conversation, though could still feel a tongue in his ear. Was it because she was medical director here and the relationship between he, as  a physician, and Melissa, as a staff member, was unprofessional and inappropriate? Did she not want them together? Was it because she was Sheryl’s friend? Was it Sheryl's idea? Or was Olivia acting in his ex-wife’s best interest, in her defense?

Sheryl! I remember her! There had been the infidelities, the monster of a boner that controlled so much of his life and wrecked his marriage. Was it still governing his actions, pulling all his strings? Was it the only reason he was with this overgrown girl, Melissa, like it had been with the trysts before her? He wanted to say he loved her but now - was he really so sure? 

This was what Olivia and her triumvirate of arcane charges wanted; their spell had already burrowed deep. They sent it to gnaw at his hypothalamus and metamorphosize into doubts and insecurities about his love for Melissa. If Olivia knew anything about Melissa - and she felt she knew her better than anyone, like Frankenstein felt he understood his monster - the young girl would react to the insult by likewise hardening her feelings for him. 

That will bring us back onto the rails, Olivia had thought, sensing already how compromised his confidence had become as she’d allowed the mouse of a man to scurry his escape from them and back through the facility. 

Through the hallways Dr. J ran past office after office after office, door after door after door. Signs for clinics, signs for labs. Signs on offices belonging to new Evolution Pharmaceutical executives that would be sent to work under the same roof as him, but in this secret, secured wing to which he shouldn’t have access, their newest foothold. In his confused haste, though, he was blind to all the signs, fumbling right by even the one of particular note. On a nondescript plaque on a similarly nondescript door read the name and title of the office’s new occupant:

The name would have rung some bells, but that was neither here nor there. 

What was important, right now, was that he was getting cold, and he was starting to feel sick. This wing, of course, was isolated from the HVAC system that circulated the artificial pheromones upon which he’d become so utterly dependent. Evolution did not want the new researchers and executives that would have offices here regularly exposed to Subject MM-1A’s pheromones, artificial or otherwise. For him, though, being isolated from them, or her, or her worker bees that released similar perfumes was beginning to have deleterious effects, even after this short a period of time. He knew he needed to get back, to get out of here, back where it was warm and safe, near her, or them. Otherwise, he would start retching soon.

He also knew that the hallway likely wasn’t really that cold. The recent reduction in his physical mass made his body less able to stay warm by itself, and being alone only seemed to amplify that effect. He had gotten used to finding warmth from Melissa’s body and his mind soon began to wander to her again, her comforts, her skin and scent. Suddenly he ached for the soft blanket of her hair, the bed of her embrace, the pillow of her bosom. He felt the familiar yearning to snuggle up against her for warmth and protection. 

How do I really feel about her, though? How does she feel about me? Between us, is it love, is it lust, or is it something else? All these doubts rattled him as he looked for escape. 

Ahead of him, he saw the exit. 

But she’s been so good to me, so understanding! When she learned I had this…this shrinking condition, instead of turning her away from me, she’s stayed. She wants to help me. In fact it's kind of…turned her on.

What sort of woman is like that??

He staggered to the door which would lead back to the atrium, the party, and hopefully her. His stomach was in knots. 

And I’m just going to be getting smaller, he admitted to himself, and she knows it. It hadn’t scared her away, and that encouraged him. In fact, the look she gets on her face…like, she’s concerned, yes. She loves me, right? She wants to be there for me! There was, though, something else there that he’d see in her eyes. An excitement. She wants me to get smaller! She wants me to wither away! He involuntarily throbbed at the thought. That’s…that’s not love, is it?!? Women these days seemed possessed by their attractions to all things small, weak and male. Was it just this new drive fueling this magnetism, her towards him?

He reached the door, closed. No handle, no knob. There must be a…a button or something somewh-where…uggghhhh. His nausea had overtaken him, and he fell to his knees at the door. Air came into his throat in big, gasping breaths, his lungs desperate for her perfumes. His hands hit the floor, he shook and prepared to get sick. 

She’s going to look so huge. My god, what’s it going to be like when I…when I lose another foot?? When I shrink under four feet…under three…and…and…

The door, above him, slid open into the wall. The din of music and crowds poured in. He looked up. Standing in their dresses were Josie and Lakshmi, suddenly right there. 

“Dr J!!” Lakshmi exclaimed, “How did you get in here??”

His next breath, a deep inhale, made his eyes flutter and bones shudder. Ahhhhhhh…! The new air was filled with pheromones, from the atrium and from the two girls who now stepped through the doorway to rescue him. Immediately they each crouched, took hold of him under the arms, and stood him up. 

The door slid back shut behind them. 

“We were looking for youuuuuuu….” drawled Josie. 

“MmmmHMMMM everyone misses you, Doctor,” added Lakshmi. Unconsciously, her body began producing more perfumes for him. As did Josie’s.

“The party’s so ffffun…”

“So many good drinks and, fooooods…” Lakshmi continued, “such nice people.”

Had they noticed his cock hanging out of his pants?

“One of them has a company, they make pillows,” Josie gushed, “and they want to make one shaped like Kiki’s BUTT!!!”

Josie laughed, Lakshmi blushed but smiled. Both girls, Dr. J quickly realized, were drunk. Or high. Or maybe both. Energy was up. 

“Josie’s had one of those BOOMpops,” Lakshmi confirmed, as if apologizing for her friend. She was trying to get Dr. J steady on his feet, but was wobbly herself. 

“And you’ve had like twenty ama…ama…”

“Amaretto souuurs,” Lakshmi substantiated, “and it hasn’t been twenty-”

“I WANT A PILLOW SHAPED LIKE LAKSHMI’S BUTT,” Josie suddenly yelled, laughing, and grabbed Dr. J by the shoulders. The effects of the “Cloud Nine” BOOMpop had peaked. Her eyes, as he looked up into them, were glazed. She was swimming in some la-la land. “And I want…THIS!!”

Josie’s hand, without warning, grabbed Dr. J’s cock. The hand that remained on his shoulder held him in place. 

“Omigod Josie!” Lakshmi laughed, “His penis!”

“Yeah is that why you disappeared? Did you go looking for a private place to make this feel better?” Josie scolded, even as her hand’s grip began to- 

“N-no I-“ Dr. J stammered, vision swimming again as immediately blood was rushing from brain to cock, “I came here f-for…”

Why had I come here?

“Randi sent us looking for you,” Lakshmi began dreamily, her big brown eyes wide now as she watched the arousal take over his face. It was fascinating, witnessing a man melt like this. 

“Yeah they need someone to christen the statue…” Josie continued. Both girls were head-and-shoulders taller than the small man, their shapely bosoms right in his face. Josie’s demeanor, with her hand now wrapped around a near-full erection, had become more serious. Her eyes, though, still swam under the effects of the infused candy. “…but you look upset. You need us to relieve you. Kiki, let’s sit him on your lap. Go sit over there.”

“Haha okayyyy,” Lakshmi giggled, looking behind herself and stepping backwards until she could lower her enormous rear end onto the soft cushion of a chair. Under her weight the bones of it groaned, but it held. 

He hadn’t really realized it before, but they were in a waiting area of sorts, admittance for Evolution’s private wing. An elegant entrance desk stood at one end, its dark wood gleaming under the soft lighting. Chairs and two small couches ringed the room, upholstered in plush fabrics that invited relaxation. Several tall, potted plants softened the space, adding a touch of natural beauty to the otherwise sterile environment.

He held back a gasp as she released his boner and pushed him back onto Lakshmi’s lap. Immediately the soft brown girl reached around and took hold of his erection, gripping it and purring as she gave it her first, slow, bone-tingling tug.

“Dr. J, Lakshmi’s drunk and I’m really high,” Josie spoke, stepping in close. She took a deep breath as she pulled her shoulders back and leaned forward towards him. “And - see? -"

Holy shit.

“…I’m getting too big for my dress.” Her large breasts had burst from her top, nipples over the hem of her bodice causing his eyes to goggle. 

“Oh, Josie,” Lakshmi breathed behind him, “your breasts are beautiful…”

“Yeah Dr. J they’re so big, and you need them,” Josie purred, her left hand reaching out to slide behind his head as the other tugged her top down, now fully off her left breast. “Can you suck my nipple please?”

“You need us, Doctor J,” Lakshmi sighed from behind him as Josie urged him forward, pushing  herself into his face, “You’re upset, something happened to you. Let us take care of you.” Both girls were preternaturally sensitive to him, knowing something was wrong even in their inebriation. And both felt the bit of resistance he offered, as weak as it was. 

“Awww c'mon…please? Just for a little while, while Lakshmi jerks you off. Some dry-nursing while you sit on Kiki’s lap and she keeps you warm. It’ll make you feel so much better.”

“mmmph…!” he blurted, even as his mouth instinctively took her in. His eyes fluttered, and suddenly he knew: this feels right. As abrupt as this moment was, as drunk as these girls may be - compared to whatever had happened just a little while earlier, with those other women - this was what he was supposed to be doing. 

“There you go, Doctor J,” Lakshmi cooed, her soft hands now stroking him up and down in gentle rhythm as she felt his bones relax and melt back into her, “you just latch.”

“That’s right, suck,” Josie purred, as her hair slowly came to life, its tendrils slithering around to embrace his head. She readjusted her breast, hefting it up to him, and held him tighter with hair and hand. “Nobody will miss us, it’ll just be a few minutes…”

======================

thanks to elephantporn for the original Josie image

also, dear readers here on Tumblr, I want to apologize for my dearth of activity. I've had every intention to keep up a decent posting schedule. On Patreon we're nearing Post 600, but I know we've been lagging here.

Growing into the Job, Post 447: Gala, p5

“Do yous think that’ll work?” 

”How will she react when he tells her about what we just did?”

“Yah she may crack the shits.” 

“Girls, he’ll barely remember this conversation…or even seeing us being here. But the doubts will be there.”

“So this will break them up?”

“I don’t know. I actually don’t mind if they’re…whatever. Together. ‘A couple’. I just need her to leash him, so she can focus on the task we put her here to do.”

“Take over the fucking city? Because that’s bloody well what it looks like she’s headed for.”

“Sammi watch your tongue when you’re speaking to the mo-”

A hiss, a baleful stare. Silver hair flashed to a sickly green.

“Sammi no!”

“Don’t worry, Emily, it’s fine. It’s true. There are some factions of us that are becoming nervous, seeing what’s happening here. The politicians are concerned that the - what have you been calling them? - the ‘queen bees’ may have more sway over the population than anticipated.”

“Fucking up the voter base, yah?”

“That…is the concern. They feel that having constituents more loyal to their ‘hive’ than the new government could become…problematic.”

“And I bet the KOLECTV scientists are nervous because the effect she’s having is becoming unpredictable. These subjects now all have droplets of the Great Pleroma’s fullness and they don’t know how to control it.”

“Yes, that’s also true.”

“And even though the three of us are getting stronger, the sisterhood doesn’t like witchy mojo inside all these uninitiated, giving them their wonky powers?”

“Correct. Especially with the male.” 

“So why don’t we just squash him like a bloody bug? Crush his mind or whatever?”

“He is starting to seem like…some sort of insect, a pest.”

“No, not yet. Somehow he fuels Melissa.”

“And you want to see how far it takes her?”

“Yes, I think that could be very valuable. We need her to maintain control over this hive, but she could also be a huge asset in establishing domination over the male race-”

“Oh haha is that bloody all?”

“...but she needs to do it without letting her feelings for him get in the way. She’s an example for the movement, everyone here is. If this experiment is successful it will prove what the Product can do.” 

“And if she grows into Queen Fucking Kong and starts shooting laser beams out of her eyes?”

“If things get out of hand, she may need to be nullified…or eliminated.”

In a pause, the three young witches’ gazes went to Olivia, as if looking for some break of emotion. None was there.

“Wow. That’s cold.”

“What would happen to the rest of them? The ones feeding on her pheromones? Without her, what will happen to them?”

“The ones that haven’t been on Program? They’ll likely die.”

“Holy shit. Bonkers.”

“That would end everything here?”

“Him too?”

“Yes.”

“Basically, yes.”

Finally, the tallest of the three sisters spoke up. Her powers, more even than the others, had been growing immense here at Far Horizons. 

“Pity.”

. ===============================================

Joyce Julep: added a touch of lore to jive with her ‘Witches of Kappa Gamma Delta’; thanks to her for letting our worlds collide>

Growing into the Job, Post 446

”We have been moving ourselves into the workplace, and you out of it,” Nancy Nunez was saying, speaking from her impromptu soapbox at the feet of the statue and in front of the reporters and news cameras of Channel 5, “enough that we already outnumber you in the workforce more than two to one…”

The city’s mayor-elect, a handsomely fit woman of dark caramel skin, had been asked how she might respond to the men who say women aren’t built to take on the responsibility of running society. She was not a tall woman but - for chrissakes, he thought - looked taller than he expected. Maybe that’s just my reduced stature or…<gulp>...maybe it’s something else at work. “We patrol nearly every street, teach nearly every child, and will soon govern not only this city but nearly every country,” she continued, “We operate every utility, we control your supply lines and we occupy most positions of real authority. You’ve already seen what we’re capable of. It should be obvious to you by now…”

With his newly delivered glass of warm milk in hand, Dr. J stood listening to her and was flanked from behind and on all sides by what was now a small crowd of his towering employees, new and old. Other women and other men listened, too. The outgoing mayor, Robert Petruzello, was standing in front of the crowd as well, though one step below Nunez on the platform that led up to the statue’s position. He looked marmalized, and not simply on account of his recent, humbling loss in the election - in which he was pulverized by her, really - but how she was humiliating him tonight. Nancy Nunez was - for the love of Pete, Dr. J lamented - proudly wearing a tiny replica of Mayor Petruzello, a ‘manikin’, in her freaking cleavage, for all the world to see. His crucifixion was complete, and he looked physically minimized, bewildered and clueless next to her prepossessed, strapping competence. Was he also, or any of the other men here, feeling the same icy dread from her speech that had crept into Dr. J’s bones?

Dr. J took a sip of his warm milk, which tasted strangely sweet. Lights around them flickered. Mayor-Elect Nunez continued.

“So, to my critics, or any critics of the Movement that claim that we are unprepared to lead, I say history has already proven you wrong,” she said. Even without the aid of a microphone, and even with the din of the gala and music of the string quartet, her voice carried powerfully enough for those gathered to easily hear. When “Mayor Bobby” tried to speak up, though, his voice was puny, and quickly quelled by Nunez’ hand to his shoulder. “Yes, this has been a concerted effort, a movement worldwide by women who want to make the world a better place. We’re doing it, and though we’re accomplishing what we want it hasn't been easy. But we’re doing all this hard work not only for ourselves, but for you,” she went on, still addressing any men listening to this impromptu address. Cameras had been rolling. “Despite what some may be saying, we do have your best interests in mind.” She looked out across the room, at the gathered women, but then in particular at the male faces in the crowd. Her eyes, in fact, for the briefest of moments, met Dr. J’s, and her plump, glossy lips nearly curled into hinting a smile. “If you, however incorrectly, consider this a conflict,” she concluded, back to addressing the masses, “then it is one which we have already won.”

More strange flickers, of the lights that lit the statue.

“All we want to do is to make you, the male race, happy,” came a sudden voice, close down to Dr. J’s left ear, causing Nunez’s speech to drift into a background drone for him. He turned his head, in sudden surprise, to see-

“E-Emily?” One of his recent young hires, Emily was on their “Planning and Development” team, if he remembered correctly (or knew what that even was). She was tight friends with-

“Sammi?” she continued, and suddenly her friend showed up at his other side, “Isn’t that right? We just want him to be happy?”

Sammi, the younger girl, giggled. Where Emily was thickly voluptuous and dark-haired, a year or two out of college, Sammi was thinner, lighter, and still in school. She was an intern here and-

“GAH!” he blurted, flinching away from her as she stuck her tongue deep into his right ear.

“‘H-H-HhhhaaaaaaaaAAPPpyyyyy…..’” Sammi breathed, and then giggled again, like a little maniac right into his brain. The spine-tingling force of her breath and then her laughter made his spine, uh…tingle, and his knees buckled as her mouth grabbed onto his entire ear. She muttered some words he didn’t understand and then “Nom nom nom…!” came the crackled thunder of her voice, and she giggled again. 

“Is it done?”

“Crikey that was easy,” Sammi answered, turning his head to look in his now swirling eyes, “Done? He bloody well is.”

“Then, girlfriend, grab him and let’s go, Bianca’s obfuscation isn’t going to last forever,”  Emily said. At that, Sammi and Emily each took him under an arm and stood him up - he’d started to collapse, with legs of jelly - and after losing himself completely for a moment finally had the wherewithal to look around. The two girls were in white dresses, matching shoes and Sammi’s light brown hair was run through with shocks of silver. Other women around him - Randi, Katie, Josie and the others - meanwhile stood strangely motionless, listening to the mayor-elect, and hadn’t passed him a glance. They looked glossy-eyed, as if unnaturally enraptured in the speech…or under some other sort of spell.

“Okayyy…” Sammi agreed, her voice a weirdling warble, “Let’s go see mommmmy…”

His own head, too, didn’t seem right, the world swimming in a fog ever since Sammi’s tongue had driven itself into his ear. He’d also managed to have lost control of my body. If it weren’t for the support of the two young women carrying him back through the crowd and now off towards one of the corridors that led out of the atrium, he would be fully collapsed. People stepped aside for them, allowing them to pass, but strangely didn’t even give them the briefest of looks. Music and the voices of women filled everything but became quieter as Emily touched a keypad and a previously shut, locked door of smoky glass slid open and the three went inside. The door sealed solidly behind them. They went down the corridor, the main hallway of the new, restricted wing that Evolution would be using for the study, for office space, and for other unspoken purposes. The two women and their charge rounded a corner, to come finally to where they had been told to bring him, a small waiting area in one of the new wings. The walls and benches here were of a beautiful, natural stone. A small water fixture gurgled among carefully arranged rocks. Lights hadn’t been turned on in the offices and chambers around them. 

Strange, he thought at first, even through his haze, seeing Bianca - the other member of this triumvirate of friends - from behind knelt down in supplication at the feet of-

“O-Olivia??” he stammered. 

“Surprised to see me?” Olivia purred. She was a recent friend of his ex-wife Sheryl’s, recently picked by her as the erstwhile medical director to oversee clinical care (and him) here at Far Horizons. She was a physician herself to boot, nearly six feet tall with the body of a brickhouse, and a long time wank fantasy of his. With her in absentia on some sort of travel, this was the first he’d seen of her in weeks. The time away had, uh, treated her well. Again, maybe it was his new (lack of) height throwing off his perspective, but Olivia seemed larger, stronger , curvier and more alive than ever - even alongside the arcane Amazon that was Bianca. Both women, like Emily and Sammi, wore white. Olivia eyed the glass of milk he held forgotten in his hand. “How’s your drink?”

He tried to stammer a response, but it was as if he had something in his mouth. Like slugs. That was Sammi’s doing; she’d read it in a book as a child and the idea amused her. 

Alongside Olivia the third member of her triumvirate, Bianca, standing proud as the tallest of them all, red-haired like Olivia and built like a wet dream. Tonight she looked larger than ever. To Dr. J there had always been something predatory and fierce about this young woman. The glare she was giving made him shiver, and she took another step back into the shadows as Olivia began to speak:

”I wanted to talk to you, Jay, before Melissa arrives and…consumes all your attention.” 

Emily draped her arm over his shoulder and pulled him against her. Numbly, he felt his cheek sink into her bare, perfectly soft shoulder. She smelled of daisies, summertime in a sunlit field.

Olivia cocked her head, giving him an affectionate smile. She saw he struggled to speak, and considered her best approach. She was not officially the lead for the Far Horizons project, but the ultimate rollout of the Product she had (in more ways than one) birthed was in many ways hinged on its success. Melissa had been placed here for a purpose, and for the most part was serving it well. What hadn’t been anticipated was how deeply Melissa would feel for the target they had provided for her….this little man that stood before Olivia now. They had been confident that he would be enraptured, spellbound, intoxicated by Melissa and her charms; in that regard they had been proven right. Melissa’s emotional reaction, however - some would call it “love” - had not been anticipated, and it was becoming problematic. Olivia was not here on-site for long as responsibilities would have her traveling again in just several days' time, but while she was she knew she needed to do all she could to derail this “love affair” between Melissa and the male.

“All women want is for you to be happy,” she began with the sweetest of smiles, repeating the sentiment that Emily had offered him earlier, “And, does Melissa make you happy?”

Melissa? he found himself thinking, Where is Melissa?? I need her. I’m getting a little….scared.

“Y-yes…” he somehow answered. She does make me happy. Why was his head spinning so much?

“And, the other girls,” Olivia continued, “All these beautiful young women that you’ve surrounded yourself with here…” At that, she gestured to her three vassals, each of whom purred and posed - or, perhaps, prowled and poised. She was indicating them, but was referring to the entirety of his female staff, this ever-growing sea of women he’d been swimming in over the past few months. “Do they make you happy?”

“Y-yes,” he replied, mostly without thinking, as he pictured Lakshmi and Josie and Randi and…and…they are all looking out for me, aren’t they? Doesn’t that make me happy? Lexi and Katie and Morgan…there’s been so much sex. And now, with the newest hires, their numbers had more than doubled. 

“But still, though, Jay, you don’t seem happy enough,” Olivia continued indulgently, a strange lilt to her voice that he hadn’t heard before, “How many girls, Jay, would it take to make you…really happy?”

“W-w-whu..whut?” he stammered, confused.

Olivia chuckled, and considered what she could do, with the new army of Program girls at her disposal here. She could - at her command - absolutely smother him in women if she wanted. He’d never come up for air again. That, though, might not be the prudent move, especially knowing how Melissa would react, and what she could do. “I think,” she began again, “I think that you are a man. You may be well intentioned, you might even be foolish enough to think yourself virtuous, but we both know, and of course so does Sheryl, what it is you really want.”

At the sound of his (ex)wife's name coming from her friend’s lips, he felt something inside begin to bristle, egged on by what he saw now as Olivia’s duplicitous gaze. Despite his condition, compromised by whatever they’d snuck into his milk, he felt the urge to say something.

“O-Olivia you and I b-both kn-”

Before he could finish his thought, however, something warm and wet met his lips.

“Sounds like you need more of this,” Emily said. 

“Uuurhk!”

“I’m afraid now isn't the time for argument,” Olivia said, calmly, “Why don't you just relax and drink your milk?”

Emily’s hand had grasped the back of his head, force-feeding him the contents of his tumbler glass and at the same time her voice - deep, unnaturally so - commanded him to ‘DRiiiiinkkKK…’. The strength of her body and the strength of her will left him no other option but to stand and take a gulp.

Whatever it was that they’d prepared and had the bartender slip into the milk, it worked.

“That’s it, good boy,” Olivia praised, watching his eyes, glaze again, “Now, as I was saying, you are a man, and, as such, you just can't help yourself. You are a slave to your urges, and that awful thing dangling between your legs. You may have wanted to be faithful to Sheryl, but, in the end, you couldn't help but stray. Again…and again…and again. Could you?”

He gurgled, swallowing.

“So, I'm going to ask you again, how many girls will it take to make you happy?”

“M-Melissssa….” he moaned.

“You love Melissa, you say,” Olivia continued, the first hints of annoyance creeping into her words, “But what, really, is it that you love? She’s a moron, Jay. You and she have nothing in common. It’s not her that you ‘love’. You’re just…fixated on her. You’re obsessed with her breasts, her giant ass, the strength and hugeness to her that makes your whole body tingle. She is the perfect female specimen for you, isn’t she? The…the ‘Hooters girl to end all Hooters girls’, hm? The woman of your very wettest dreams? Think about it. What you feel for her isn’t love, Jay. It never was.”

His mind was reeling, conflicted, her words cutting deeper than they had any right to. What was this woman saying? What does she know about…about..?

“All the times she's sucked you, all the times she’s fucked you, smothered you in all that ungodly, physical pleasure. That's what you really want from her isn’t it?”

He tried not to whimper. Emily had taken away the dregs of his milk and he stared into Olivia's green eyes and felt himself ominously beginning to twitch.

“But, Jay, how important, really, is it that it’s her?” Olivia continued, seeing now how her words were wrapping themselves like a serpent around his frontal lobe, “You have all these girls, little man, all these girls growing stronger and bigger and more beautiful around you. Your whole world is turning into women for you. And that’s what you really want, isn’t it, Jay? To be smothered in a world of women?”

Sammi had crouched alongside him, like a cat, and started rubbing his thighs as Olivia continued. Her head of hair sparkled.

“Melissa is just one girl,” she purred, “but we’re all here, Jay, all of us. All of us growing and growing and growing. In size-“

Emily squashed what felt to be a mammoth right breast against his left shoulder. Behind Olivia Bianca stood taller, looming enormous. 

“In strength…”

Sammi’s clawed hands clasped his thighs like iron. Bianca’s neck and shoulders flexed in a display of previously hidden brawn. Emily's bosomy embrace became like a vice around his left side. 

“In influence...”

It was now Emily’s voice in his ear, his left, muttering strange words in a strange tongue. Images flew through his mind, images of women stepping on defeated men, leading great armies, high heeled feet crushing entire buildings, felling skyscrapers. 

<zzzzip>

Sammi’s fingers had let down his zipper. 

This is not right, he told himself, he knew. He’d enjoyed the affections of other women, of Melissa’s friends, countless times over these past two months. It was all with her blessing, though; strange as it sounded they were a shared, sharing family, she had said it herself. What was happening here, though - Emily’s bosom slowly swallowing his body, Sammi’s fingers now fishing him from his fly, Bianca fixing him with a glare that held promises of violence and violent rapture - this didn’t seem right. Something else was at work here. He had lived years of infidelity to Sheryl - Deanna, Rina, and finally Melissa - and he had paid the price. He’d had his comeuppance, but was now moving on. He was trying to build a new life with the woman he - yes, despite what Olivia said, he convinced himself - loved. She was generous, Melissa was generous with him and her friends and their love.

Loved, right? It is love, isn’t it?

Suddenly, he was unsure. This, though, what was right now happening in this secret antechamber of some clandestine coven, seemed like infidelity to Melissa. 

“You don’t need Melissa…” the three girls all said in unison. 

Sammi was widening her jaw, opening her throat; somehow her hair had gone completely silver. Olivia's voice joined the three.

“…Mommy’s already here.”

No. 

“N-no..!”

He broke away, he broke back. His dick yanked and slid out of Sammi’s hand, his torso extricated from Emily’s bosom. Bianca began to take a step forward, but was stayed by a hand from Olivia. 

“Let him go…” Olivia said, as she watched him stumble away from them. He almost almost fell, and her smile curled darkly as he turned to run. “We’ve done what we needed to.”

The seed is planted. 

===========================================

thanks to RiF for upscaling my original atrium image, and thanks thanks Olo for the Olivia image, and GBHMax for his help bringing in Bianca.

“Yeah we call her our queen bee. All our monthly cycles have already changed to match up with hers,” I overheard Katie explaining to Abby, as the small group of us started to drift into the crowd of the big gala event. I was insulated from the throngs by the three big, female bodies of Katie, Abby and Randi. Abby had questions about her friend, Melissa, interested in what had been happening in the office over these past few months. Katie was being forthcoming as Randi waved to someone across the room. “Our bodies have been becoming more, like, feminine,” I heard, “but we’re also becoming more confident, speaking up for ourselves...”

“If you call being able to lift cars or grow knives from your fingers ‘speaking up’,” Randi added casually.  I found myself only half able to  pay attention, as  I  tried to get a look at the crowd past the curvy hips and bare arms of my companions. My staff, for sure, was here - I’d seen Shanette with her boyfriend Scottie, Katarina and Mallory nearly bursting out of their dresses (Katarina from the top, Mallory from the bottom), and Bianca, Sammie and Emily making friends with the bartender of one of the two small bars set up on the party’s edges. Also bursting from their dresses were Bobbi and Brittni, who cooed their ‘hello’s’ to me in unison as we passed…

 …and made me do a double take. A glance down and suddenly my vision was swimming as their chests - what the? What in the name of..?

Their breasts were enormous!! What had happened to them?!?

As we walked past them - Katie and Randi blithely saying hi, and strangely not even mentioning the pair’s otherworldly proportions - Bobbi and Brittni giggled Frankly, I was awestruck. I couldn’t believe my eyes, what I’d just seen. I was ushered past the two and deeper into the party, though I couldn’t help but  crane my neck over my shoulder for another look as Randi pushed me forward. Clearly whatever I saw must have been a product of my overactive imagination because their chests, while big and busty like the rest of my staff, was nowhere near the size of the zeppelins I had just hallucinated. The front desk duo continued to giggle at me and my confusion.. Brittni waved goodbye. Bobbi blew me a kiss.

I shook my head, stumbling over my own feet as I tried to clear it. 

“You okay, big guy?” Randi asked.  

“Y-yeah.” 

Nope. Not okay. I needed a drink though I felt somehow like I’d already had one. This is going to be a weird night. 

Anyway, not everyone in the crowd was my old staff, overgrown or not. We were maybe a third of the hundred-and-fifty or so attendees. A few of the girls had brought dates, and there were a couple guys - cameramen, mostly - supporting the news team, but the majority of the crowd was female. Aside from my girls, there were the fifty new employees that would apparently be living here, upstairs. I’d been told they would be starting work on Monday - all women. There were also dignitaries, business leaders, reporters - also mostly female, again some with dates. They had all begun to intermingle - old staff, new staff, outsiders - everyone apparently getting to know one another. 

“Wow look at your boobs!” “Nice jugs!” “I love your knockers!” - many of the conversations I was overhearing had a pretty similar theme. I’ve been a guy, all my life, with an unhealthy obsession for all things busty, a fixation that in fact had recently become all but crippling. While I wasn’t looking it seemed the rest of the world had been catching up, becoming more boob-infatuated. This self-congratulatory crowd sounded to be no exception. There were other comments as well, many laudatory praises of one another’s appearances and figures in other ways. Nearly all the Far Horizons girls, new and old, were tall and strong, busty and beautiful. It was frankly unbelievable, the proportions this crowd possessed. And Melissa hadn’t even shown yet. 

“Omigod Katie I love your dress!!!” squealed Shanette, the tall, chocolate-skinned woman who’d just burst from the crowd, giving quick hugs and similar greetings to Randi and Abby. She had her mousy boyfriend, Scottie, in tow and wore a long, cream-colored dress of thin silk, gathered at the waist by a built-in corset, embroidered and beaded, that embellished her eye-popping curves...

“Hi girls, hi girls,” he said. 

“It’s a Carrier dress, right?” Shanette gushed, continuing to extol Katie’s outfit. A number of the women here, in fact, were wearing this shared clothing fashion. “Why didn’t you wear a manikin?”

Katie laughed. “Omigod no, I thought that would be too much, for tonight,” she answered, fingers absentmindedly drifting down her chest, across the series of cut-out boob-windows that ran down to her abdomen. I flushed as I remembered that my own head, just a little while earlier in my apartment, had been trapped into one of those. 

“A manikin too much??” Shanette scoffed, referring to the small dolls designed to accompany the fashion, “No! This would totally be the place for it…” 

“Yeah have you seen Nancy Nunez?” Josie asked, having just drifted in to sidle up to the group, easily finding her way into conversation. She was holding a large lollipop, a gemstone of pale blue.

“Who?” asked Shanette.

“The…Mayor-Elect, the incoming one, she just got elected,” Josie replied. Shanette nodded. “She’s got a manikin of Mayor Bobby in her dress tonight.”

“For real?” Katie laughed.

“That’s bold,” Randi agreed.

‘Mayor Bobby’ was the reductive name many had started to use for Mayor Robert Petruzello, even before he’d lost his re-election bid to Nunez. She was previously his Chief-of-Police appointee but now the Women's Party candidate who’d beaten him in the election. Sounded like his dignity and reputation had now been reduced even further, if Josie was to be believed, with a tiny replica of his lame-duck self now displayed in his former opponent's bodice.

“Yeah that’s the new thing,” Josie sidles up to group, “ever since ‘President-elect Martin-“

”Omigod I love her,” Shanette gushed.

”- was seen at the Movement fundraiser last week in a sleek black Chanel thing with a manikin of Knox-’”

“They make manikins of President Knox?!?” marveled Shanette.

Josie paused for a moment in frustration. ”-of Knox inside her dress,” she concluded, “That’s sort of becoming a thing. Incoming politicians starting to be seen with manikins of the men they beat in the elections. It’s-“

”Where can you get manikins of politicians?”

“Holy frap Shanette interrupting much?!?” Josie snapped, but then calmed herself down with a shake of her head, “But yeah you can get a manikin of anyone.”

”Hey Scottie,” Randi spoke up, nodding her head towards the quiet guy standing beside his taller, more impressively built date, “Should Shanette get a manikin made to look like you?”

Shanette turned her head, beamed down onto Scottie with an affectionate smile.

“That’d - heh heh - be r-really funny, really funny,” he stammered.

“He already spends a lot of time inside my shirt,” Shanette purred, running a hand possessively down his left arm, “Don’t you sweetie?”

“Ooo, there’s Olivia!” Katie suddenly exclaimed, pointing over the shoulders of Josie and Shanette out across the crowd. I strained to look but couldn’t see, my view blocked by the bodies of others. “She’s back from…where was she? Japan?”

“She looks…wow, great,” someone said.

“Yeah, vibrant…” agreed another.

“I heard she just…ate.”

“Speaking of eating,” Josie said, holding up the lollipop she’d appeared with and showing it to the group, “have you seen the platter of BOOMpops over there by the bar?”

“Ha really?”

“‘BOOMpops’?” I asked, recalling the night we’d all had at the smoothie place, and then ‘BOOMbar’, “Is that anything like ‘BOOMfood’?” 

The girls all looked down on me, the little man finally speaking up.

“Yeah they’re not available yet, they’re showing up in stores next month,” Josie said, sticking the thing into her mouth for a suck which buckled her cheeks, before <popping> it out, “I took the one called ‘Cloud Nine’...”

“What’s it do?”

“I dunno…” Josie replied, “I don’t feel anything yet.”

“Do they have any for guys?” I found myself asking. Most of their products, shakes or whatever, were infused with herbs and such nonsense, supplements for women. 

“Why, you want something like that smoothie you had after the movies?” Katie asked with a chuckle.

“The boner stuff?” Shanette asked.

“It nearly killed you, didn’t it?” Randi cut, with her typical snark.

“The BOOMpops they have here for guys are - yeah, green for boners and they said they also induce more submissiveness. They called them - lemme remember - ”Josie said, “Oh yeah: ‘Sucklers’.”

“Oooo Scottie baby we should get a few of those for you,” Shanette sang, petting her little boyfriend again and pulling his head into the swell of her big right boob, “we can play with them at home, me and my little suckler…”

“We should watch out,” Josie warned, as we were all probably picturing Shanette and Scottie and what they might be doing later, “I saw both Angie and Amelia take a red one. They called them ‘Fierce Fire’ 

“Speaking of watching out,” Randi suddenly announced, as she took a step back. The floor seemed like it was shaking. “Hold onto your butts, here comes BoomBoo-”

Before I could even half-turn to see where she was looking, I was <BLAM>...

‘MMMPPhh!!’

…assaulted by the soft, brown chest pillows of my overgrown medical assistant Lakshmi.

“Dr. JJJJJJJJJjjjjjjjjjjj…….!!!!” she squealed, hugging my head to her warm bosom, resplendent with her perfume and immediately making my world spin. “ I FOUND YOU!!”

“I found Kiki over at the bar,” came Marisela’s voice, who’d stole her way in behind Lakshmi, “she was making friends with her, what was it? Second, third-?”

“SIXTH!” she laughed, her bosomy bust bulging about my face, “My sixth-....”

“Lemme guess,” Josie drawled, “Your sixth Amaretto Sour.”

“YEP!”

“How’d I know…?”

By this point, my arms - which at first had shot out in shock - had now come to rest, my hands finding nowhere to purchase themselves save for Lakshmi’s behemoth of a behind. Through the silky material of her party dress, her mountainous rear was hugely soft and firm.

“I am getting so BIG and HEAVY the alcohol does not feel like anything to me..!” she laughed, bouncing a bit on her feet to jostle me.

“Sure…” Randi chuckled, “Just don’t smother him, Keeks.”

“What are you doing to that napkin Marisela?” someone asked.

“I’m just…I have to haha draw this it’s just too funny…”

“Omigosh Marisela haha you are too good!”

“That looks just like them!”

“Oh please. My breasts are not <hic!> nearly that big…”

“Even just on a napkin, what a good sketch!”

My knees were getting weak: lack of oxygen, Lakshmi’s perfume.

“Kiki you should take that home and frame it!”

“Nope I’m saving this,” Marisela said, tucking the napkin into her dress, “it’ll go into my idea folder for my comic book.”

“You are making a <hic!> <jiggle> <giggle!> comic book?”

“Yeah I dunno we’ll see…”

“We’re all superheroes in it,” Randi said, “Even you, BoomBoom.”

“YAYYY!”

“Hey what’s happening up there? Under Melis-…under the statue?” someone asked. 

“Looks like Nunez is talking to the cameras,” Randi answered. 

“Let’s go listen…” Josie suggested. 

=========================================

Sketch on napkin image adapted from an original by @WayoMilfs on twitter/X

Growing into the Job, Post 444: Gala, p2

I’d been herded out of my apartment by the two girls, hurried down the little spiral staircase, and all but carried through Melissa’s office and then the waiting room. I could hear the party on the other side of the door, classical string music and the sounds of a large  crowd drifting through; it was clear that the gala in the atrium was already in full swing. . I felt my anxiety spike and my mouth went dry as Lexi and Katie took a moment to adjust the tie and lapels of my rented suit. They each gave me a big smile and kissed me on the top of the head before opening the door and pushing me out, trembling, ahead of them. 

I couldn’t help but gasp - though the sound of my breath was lost in the cacophony of the party - as I looked out into the grand new space. It dwarfed our old offices in scale and splendor, and, though I had already seen it earlier today, I couldn’t help but marvel at it again. Huge and soaring, done in warm white stone for its walls, floors and columns, it made me feel like I was entering some glorious temple. And if it was a place of worship, its deity was Woman. The enormous stone statue of the goddess, a distance to my right, now stood watching dominion over her throng of partygoers at her feet, all of whom were done up in their celebratory best. Rather than lit from above by sunlight through the glass ceiling, she was now bathed in dramatic lighting from below and from sconces on the walls. She loomed above all like some great protectress in her robes and majestic beauty…

…and looked exactly like Melissa, despite what everyone was trying to tell me. 

Though my knees nearly buckled, as they had when I took my first sight of her this afternoon, I had the wherewithal to quickly gather myself and try to enter the party unnoticed. I spotted a large potted tree aside a tall stone column that I knew could probably hide behind and began to make my way  towards it when I was suddenly stopped from behind by Lexi’s hand to my right shoulder, then Katie’s on my left.

“Ladies..!!” Lexi announced, over the romantic expressiveness of the string quartet, “here he is, the man you’ve all been waiting for!!!”

I was immediately overwhelmed. Eyes, too many eyes, were  on me.  Cameras, flashing, giggles, and gasps made me instinctively shrink backwards, lost in my new confusion. At first, I didn’t recognize any faces. I felt small, vulnerable, unprotected, and I was suddenly happy for the two girls with their hands firmly on my shoulders, their strong presences behind me. Without Melissa near me I palpably needed them, their magnetism a necessary substitute for her solid solace. They felt like my protectors, the others surrounding me felt like…others. 

With the flashes going off, both Lexi and Katie  beamed with their biggest, most camera-ready smiles. I, on the other hand, winced with every flash as I imagined what every photo would look like: a shrunken,  humiliated twerp cowering before two gorgeous Amazons.The image made me try my best to keep some semblance of a grin. I hoped my discomfort wasn’t too noticeable.

<flash>

<flash> <flash> 

My weak eyes couldn’t take it. 

<flash> 

I started to feel really nervous. 

<flash><flash>

But my rictus brightened a bit when I saw two new faces - ones I counted as friends now, like family, reinforcements here to save me - pushing through the throng, coming in to join us...

It was Randi and Marisela, each in nearly matching black dresses, each with a champagne flute in their hands and each now standing between me and the cameras. At my height I had a good view of their bare, well-muscled upper backs: Randi’s smooth skin a tanned olive, Marisela’s more pale framed and decorated by a number of tattoos, which seemed to direct the gaze towards something. My eyes focused in on Marisela’s back, following the intricate patterns as the two both smiled, patiently indulging the cameras, at least for the moment. 

“Okay okay okay guys,” Randi said, loudly, addressing the photographers and other randoms who seemed to want pictures of me. Marisela had her hand raised, absentmindedly rolling her shoulders and giving me the briefest glimpse of some kind of marks - not tattoos - on her shoulder blades. Is that some kind of scar tissue? Marisela kept them all at a distance as Randi continued. “We talked about this. We know everyone wants their piece of shortstuff here for the morning edition, but his photo ops are later,” she directed, “Leave him alone until Melissa gets here.”

Lexi had taken her hand from my shoulder, and stepped forward to help handle the press in her duties as our event coordinator. With Randi and Marisela forming my human shield, and Katie’s warm body now fully behind me, I’d begun to feel a bit more sheltered and protected from the ‘others’. Being a four-and-a-half foot man in a normal-sized world could be scary at times, but with these women around me I felt strangely safe. 

Lexi took charge, apparently unwilling to let this opportunity go to waste. She turned on the charm and stood at the head of the throng of camera people. “Hey c'mon,” she said, addressing Randi, and then turning back to the crowd, “they’ve waited all night for this, pictures of all of us together.” At that, Lexi flashed her best megawatt smile, stood tall and thrust her chest out for the cameras. In her red slip of a dress, her figure was arresting. “Science is so fake, isn't it guys?” she brightly asked the cameras, which all now exploded in a burst of flashes, “saying the hottest thing is the sun….” She tossed her brown hair, smiled even wider. “…when we all know it’s actually Far Horizons girls.”

More flashes followed, and some tolerant smiles from Randi, Marisela and Katie. 

“Why don’t we let them have a few shots, of all of us with him?” Lexi offered. Her suggestion came with a turn of her head and a conciliatory smile, and between the other girls and her I could already sense some growing tension, “Before Melissa gets here we can-“

“Nope,” Marisela interjected, dryly putting a stop to Lexi’s appeasement plan and pulling even tighter to Randi’s side, effectively blocking me from the cameras entirely. There was a dark threat in Marisela’s energy, a cold, latent violence; I could feel it shiver my bones and the photographers could, too. They all backed away a step, the male photographers retreating noticeably more. 

“Later,”  Randi added, with finality, “When Missy arrives.”

Lexi had some argument in her, but all it took was another glance from Randi and a glare of Marisela’s, and she begrudgingly turned away from us, now ushering the throng away. “C’mon, guys,” I could hear her say to her charges as she left, “let’s go take some pictures of the new mayor under the statue…”

There was a pause, as Katie, Randi and Marisela watched the crowd disperse, the party falling back into its previous rhythm, the entrance of the midget-man (ie: me) seemingly forgotten, at least for the moment. Katie’s vigilant grip on my shoulders began to relax, and Randi and Marisela turned their attention down towards me. 

Suddenly, rather than safe, I felt surrounded…but also like I should thank them. 

“Th-thanks, guys,” I said, looking up at Marisela and Randi, “they were really annoying.”

“No worries, we got you baby,” Randi answered, a funny hint of something almost maternal mixed into her smoky, normally acerbic tone.

Katie pulled me in tighter, holding my head back against her firm breasts. The black-haired Marisela bit her lip. 

“So, how do we look?” Randi asked, her dark eyes glittering down on me while Marisela’s blue gaze gleamed. All three of these young women silently compelled me to ogle their bodies and, at the same time, daring me to try and look away. 

They knew, of course, my eyes had a mind of their own, and I predictably goggled as I took in their figures. I knew, by this point, that I should no longer be surprised by the sight.

“We didn’t do this on purpose, I swear,”” Marisela offered dryly, “wear the exact same thing.” 

“Yeah I knew I should have worn my blue dress,” Randi agreed, in her smoky tone. 

“Aw I think you two look cute, like twinsies,” Katie giggled. 

It wasn’t, though, the fact that Randi and Marisela were wearing the same dress that had made my eyes gawk. Yes, I’d fallen in love with Melissa’s incredible, impossible figure, which frankly transcended theirs, but that did nothing to make their curves any less phenomenal. Their tight black dresses may very well have been painted on, with plunging bustlines held to hug their big bosoms by the thinnest of straps resting elegantly on their shoulders. Arms were left entirely exposed, revealing expanses of perfect skin and, on Marisela, a collection of tattoos. Slits ran down both side of their skirts, clearly to show off the perfect thighs, calves and ankles of their astoundingly well-developed legs, legs which showed wonderful in their high-heeled shoes. 

“So who wears it better?” Randi asked in her signature tone, sardonic

“Uhhhh…” I began, unsure of how to navigate this obvious trap.

“You don’t have to answer that, cutie,” Katie assured me from behind, “that’s a trick question.” 

“Well I think you both look gorgeous…” came the voice of a newcomer, a brown haired woman in her thirties, looking lovely in a white dress and hair done in elegant rings which called up a retro style. I knew I recognized h- Yes! Abby. Abby Sol-i-something. Sales rep for Evolution and a friend of Melissa. She’d sidled up to the four of us and now stood alongside Randi. “Hi Katie, Randi and…Marisela, right?”

“Yeah,” Marisela drawled, “hi.”

“Well, thanks for getting rid of all those cameras,” Abby lauded, “they’re as bad as paparazzi!”

I’d known Melissa and Abby had been friends for a couple of years, though to hear Melissa tell it Abby wasn’t nearly as much a part of the group as Randi, Shanette, and some of the others. It explained, though, how she knew Randi and Katie better than Marisela. 

Then she looked at me. Though she was not as tall as any of my employees here, she still peered down at me from more than a foot above. “And - oh! - I barely saw you there!” she laughed, “Hi Dr J., nice to see you again!”

“Y-you too,” I agreed. 

“Though - wow - there’s so much less of you, isn’t there?” she chuckled, casting an observant eye up and down me, from head-to-toe. “How tall is he, Randi?” Abby asked. 

“Tell her, little guy,” Randi said, her smirk from above me clearly belying her amusement - but also something else. She and Marisela had swooped in to save me from the others, and now we were among friends - right? Or did I sense some more tension here?

“I’m…uh…”

“Say it, Dr. J,” Katie urged me, from behind.  

“I’m…four-seven,” I admitted, face flushing. 

“Whoah, for real?!” Abby gushed, eyes widening, “And you used to be…?”

I swallowed, dryly, trying to put it together. I could barely believe it myself. 

“It’s okay, Dr. J,” someone said, “you can tell her.”

“I used to be five-eleven.”

“WOW that’s…amazing!” Abby raved, something going on behind her eyes that I couldn’t quite read. “And…are you alright? How do you feel?”

“Uhhh…” How do I feel? Shrunken? Withered? Weak? Sidelined, pushed aside? At times befuddled, confused? Could I admit to all these things, to this woman, here at a party? “I feel…okay.”

“Do you know what’s happening?” Abby continued, voyeuristically curious but also with that same, strange something that belied some other interest, “Like, a diagnosis?”

“Umm-”

“Because if we could bottle it up, whatever it is that’s doing this to you,” Abby continued, half in jest but also not, “Girls would love it! My job would be so easy! Evolution would make billions!”

“Not happy enough that this new Product is going to help enhance women,” Marisela chimed in, “sort of like Melissa’s doing to us?”

“Yeah now you’d want to shrink the men? Like Nexifem is learning how to do?” Randi suggested, referring to the demonstration on that talk show where some guy had been reduced to doll-size - though I’d heard the expense was currently astronomical, and there were even rumors that it wasn’t real, just some sort of camera trickery. Even so, it was frightening.  “And put it in a pill…?” she mused, “it’s an appealing thought…”

“Yeah he is turning into such a cutie,” Katie purred. Her breasts were still warm softness behind me and I felt her embrace become more enveloping. “Everyone should have one.”

“Omigod imagine!” Abby laughed, “I’d love to be able to sit my boyfriend on my lap like Missy must do to him.”

“She carries him around on her hip sometimes,” Randi said, “You should see it.” She glanced over Abby’s shoulder. “So, is your boyfriend here?”

“No, I left him home, I don’t think he could handle this thing,” Abby answered, just as a server came up to us with a tray of champagne glasses. Each lady began trading their empty glass for a fresh one. “All these gorgeous women would freak him out,” Abby continued, taking her first sip, “plus he’s got my laundry to do.”

When I reached for a glass, Katie stayed my hand. 

“Not tonight, sweetie,” she told me. 

“Yeah, in fact,” Randi spoke up, addressing the server, “Can we get a glass of milk, for this guy here? Make sure to warm it up.” 

I flushed again. How far was this going? Had I been this reduced? That I needed someone else to order warm milk for me where everyone else was drinking champagne and cocktails?

The server had left before Abby started speaking again. “I love how you all take care of him,” she said, “it’s pretty adorable.”

“Yeah, one big happy fucking family,” Randi drawled. 

“Emphasis on the ‘fucking’,” added Marisela, dryly, downing her champagne in one go. 

“Well, I know Missy loves being supported by powerful women,” Abby said, eyeing Marisela with a wary gaze, “and I understand you guys are all-”

“Turning into superheroes?” Marisela spoke, without a hint of jest. 

“Well, I uh-“ Abby began. 

“Don’t believe everything you hear…” Marisela finished dismissively, before turning on her spiked heel. “I’m going to go find Lakshmi,” she said, and then flew off…

=============================================

thanks to RiF for not only his editing, but in helping upscale the first image. And, oh yeah, Beetlebomb for helping build the statue....more of her to come :)

Growing into the Job, Post 443: Gala, p1

The string quartet had just come back from their first break when Abby Solowicki, sales rep for Evolution Pharm, watched him trying to step unnoticed into the huge, crowded atrium. Sneaking, slinking, skulking - those would probably have been more appropriate ways to describe it. 

At first she could barely believe her eyes. Yes, she’d read the Evolution reports and still frequently talked to Subject MM-1A under the veiled charade of friendship, but to see it in person was striking. The guy was so farking small. This was the same physician she’d met with?  The one she helped convince to allow the Product study to set up in his practice? He’d absolutely Shrunk with a capital ‘S’. He might be small enough, actually, that he might be able to hide himself behind that potted plant he quickly seemed to be gunning for.

Right behind him, though, was Lexi Samuels. Lexi was a good friend of Abby’s. She’d transferred here from Evolution’s Marketing department and was made into - like Abby - an Agent. It looked like she was not about to let him sneak, slink or skulk in without a little fanfare. 

“Ladies..!!” Lexi announced, over the first few bars of Mendelsohn’s (Fanny’s, not Felix’s) String Quartet #1, “the man you’ve all been waiting for!!!”

Already Lexi’s hand was on his right shoulder and Katie O’Rouke - who’d come in right behind her through the inauspicious side door that led to the old geriatrics practice - had her hand on his left. Flashbulbs went off immediately; this place was heavy with press. Abby hadn’t seen Katie in a while; the blonde had put on at least four inches and though she’d had implants before, her chest was now undoubtedly even bigger. Both her and Lexi looked gorgeous in their red dresses, and - with him now down to almost 4’6”, they towered over him by more than a foot-and-a-half in their heels as he cowered away from all the press of people and attention of the cameras, and backed into them. 

Truth be told though, Abby knew, more than half the crowd was beneficiaries of Program (like herself, even if to just a small extent), MM-1A’s pheromonal influence (like Katie), or in some way both (Lexi). So, just about everyone here was preternaturally impressive and unnaturally tall.

Well, nearly everyone. There were a smattering of hapless males, most on the arm of a woman. They were still, for now, at their given heights. A shame really, but at least they were made to look smaller by the tall women surrounding them. Even the ones that were still taller than their escorts seemed pale, confused and out of their element. The poor pathetic creatures looked like wilted flowers among the resplendent bounty of their partners. Likewise, aside from the Program and Product girls, there were still some “naturals”, invitees from the outside: women from the mayor’s office, female business leaders, etc. They were all done up in their party best and had been successful, to varying degrees, in not being completely overshadowed, no small feat among the Enhanced. In fact, Abby prided herself on her appearance and hadn’t had much more than the smallest dose of Program; there was a general policy at Evolution that its employees were not to be put on the full regimen. Though she had been given her dose above board, she knew many had dabbled in “Program Lite”, as they liked to call it, sneaking in a couple diluted doses swiped from the clinic in the rear building. The administrative agents planted here, too, had been given some limited access to Program so they - like Abby - would be mostly resistant to MM-1A’s influences. And then there were those like Bianca Beres from Development, or the other ladies that had just come in from Coronado: full Program and with the towering, hyper-feminine figures to prove it. 

Anyway, all eyes - enhanced or not - shot to Dr. J as he was presented to the crowd by Lexi and Katie. MM-1A - or, “Tits”, Abby’s playful nickname for her asset - hadn’t arrived yet. She’d told Abby that - ever the bimbo - she was still busy finishing up her hair. Abby, though, understood Monroe well enough by this point to guess that the girl likely wanted to make a dramatic entrance herself, and she wanted him to see the fanfare. Otherwise Dr. J could very well have made his appearance carried on her hip. 

In the end, Abby felt proud as she stood in the heart of the breathtaking atrium, a towering sanctuary dedicated to the evolution of the female race. Every inch of the grand space exuded a sense of pride and accomplishment, and Abby couldn't help but feel it wash over her. The soaring entrance, during the day bathed in natural light but now lit elegantly by the soft glow of sconces and subtle fixtures, served as a majestic gateway into this architectural marvel. It called to mind a Greek or Roman temple, modernized for a new age, w. The centerpiece of the space, of course, was the awe-inspiring thirty-five-foot-tall statue looming over them all. symbolizing the indomitable spirit of women and completing the effect. The colossus, sculpted with intricate detail in a synthetic, adaptive material which mimicked marble in appearance, depicted a powerful, ideally feminine figure, shapely to the extreme. It stood with one arm outstretched with courage and grace to point toward the far horizon. The statue, emblematic in so many ways, was a testament to the countless women who had not only fought tirelessly for equality, justice, and empowerment, but now strived for something beyond mere parity, goals even more profound: primacy, superiority, dominion. Towering high, it served as a constant reminder to anyone standing below it of the unwavering determination and resilience of women throughout history, as well as a promise of their ascendancy in the future. As Abby gazed at the statue, she couldn't help but feel a sense of connection to all the women who had come before her, and to those who would come after. In that moment, she knew that the facility, and very soon others like it, would be a beacon of hope and inspiration for generations to come. 

And if the stories she heard were true, the males that worked and lived in the basement here had started to come up to jerk off to it at night, in tribute to their Office Manager. Melissa, it seemed, was developing a following. 

Abby felt at home among this gathering of powerful women. Though she knew it was a team effort, she knew she had a key part in turning the sad little geriatrics practice into the facility it was today, and she had done her job well.  Her assignment had been to befriend Melissa, and over the course of many months gain her trust. That had allowed her the inroad to Far Horizons, under the guise of a Sales Rep, and the rest was history. The “research study”, now in the directorial hands of Gianna, had blossomed and allowed for the sham, fast-track FDA approval and, well…all this. New clinics were soon to be popping up in the Midwest, across the country and, if plans went well, around the world. She understood that there were tensions behind the scenes, that many thought the Product might be turning out to be too effective. Abby knew that rather than merely being a stepping stone in establishing a hierarchy for the new world, some feared they were creating women that could start ascending in similar ways to MM-1A, and scarier still that Monroe might have influence over some sort of new pantheon. A race of goddesses might sound great on paper, but it could prove hard to manage a world whose top deity had the IQ and education of a Hooters waitress. 

Speaking of, now was a good time. Before Melissa arrived and claimed him, Abby wanted a moment to catch up with the doctor, see how he was doing. Other girls were already starting to descend on him, from across the room. So now was her chance…

======================================

thanks to Elephantporn for the image of Abby

Growing into the Job, Post 442: GRWM Dr. J, p3

“Katie, he’s looking at your butt. And he’s getting hard again.”

“Omigod.”

The dark haired Lexi was crouched next to me, having just finished cleaning me off with a wet cloth. The mirror was still a slimy mess, though, my goo dribbling down it in humbling rivulets as she’d slipped me into the pair of child-sized underwear they’d found in my cheap chest of drawers. A rented suit hung on the rack in my small closet and I found myself unable to look away from Katie strutting over to retrieve it and my shoes. In her red sheath dress her prominent rear was the bulge of a perfect heart, making my breath catch in my throat as the blonde bombshell bent over.

It was impossible for Katie not to giggle as she looked back over her shoulder at me. Yes: though I’d just climaxed under the two girls’ ministrations only a few minutes before, she saw how my cock was beginning to swell itself again in the front of my briefs, and how I shuddered as Lexi’s dutiful hands attempted to rearrange my discomfort. Katie gave me another moment to take in her rear view before she stood up again. “Come on. Focus. Everyone’s downstairs already and we need to get you dressed,” Katie said, “The girls picked up this nice suit for you.”

Pulling it out of the closet, and holding it up on its hanger for my inspection, Katie showed me the suit. A well-pressed two piece of navy blue and, much like the rest of my wardrobe, probably also made for a young kid. I now stood at  just over four-and-a-half feet tall and I had long lost the ability to shop in the Men’s Department. 

Katie held up a tie, admiring it, a swirl of deep pinks. “You’re going to match her outfit,” she said, as I nodded in timid approval and trying my best to ignore Lexi’s adjustments.

“Her dress is really so beautiful,” Lexi commented, “I saw it earlier.”

“And a well-groomed boyfriend is the best accessory,” finished Katie, as she stepped towards me with my suit…and so my dressing began.

Coos and clucks and directions - ‘step here’, ‘arms up’, ‘spread your legs’ - came from them both as they tended to me. As ignominious as the moment was, before I knew it the girls had me in my pants, a crisp white button-down and a suit jacket. Socks, shoes, even a little pocket square of matching magenta appeared on me, all perfectly fitting my diminished frame. They shooed my hands away and dutifully tied my tie for me as apparently I’d forgotten how. Finally, Katie pulled something out of her purse.

“What’s that?” I asked, as she leaned down to affix something - it looked like some sort of large pin - to my lapel. 

“You’ll see,” she answered, with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, Lexi giggling behind her, “It’s very fashionable.” 

“It looks like a…ring?” I commented. That’s exactly what it was: a metal hoop, a loop of gold or maybe bronze, an inch or two in diameter and hanging from a little hinge that attached it to the pin and, therefore, to my suit jacket’s lapel. Sturdy, but unadorned with any detail, simple. Strange…but who was I to judge fashion?

“Melissa will love it,” Lexi beamed, a devious sparkle in her own eyes. 

“And you want to keep Melissa happy, don’t you little guy?”  Katie added, now standing behind me in the mirror again...

I nodded, maybe a little more enthusiastically than I should have.

“Good boy,” they both cooed in unison, making me shiver.

“Well, I know all this shrinking you’ve been doing has made her very happy,” Katie continued, playing a bit with the new pin on my suit with a hand over my shoulder, “She’s got a thing for little men, skinny men, weak men…”

“We all kinda do, don’t we?”

“Yeah, we do,” Katie agreed.

“But, for you…what’s it been like?” Lexi asked.

“Yeah,” Katie chimed, her other hand coming around my other shoulder, “Has it been stressful, scary?”

“‘Scary’?” I repeated, watching as Katie straightened my tie, “Well, yes, I guess. It was kinda alarming…” I paused, considering things, remembering how I’d felt weeks ago….and now realizing how my feelings had changed. “…at first.”

Lexi, still in her crouch beside me, picked up on my tone and reached out a gentle hand to cup my chin and study my face. Something in my expression seemed to intrigue her. “And now?” she prompted, wanting to hear more, “Do you feel different about it now?”

“I…I think I do,” I admitted. My previous life as a taller man, as I tried to think back, was starting to feel less than real. I realized, in fact, that it seemed less and less like a memory and more and more like a dream. Had there been days where I could look down at my wife? Or pick her up? Pin her down when we made love? How long ago was that? If times like that had ever existed, and my recollections of them were real, they felt bizarre now. Wrong. It made me vaguely uneasy just thinking about them, queerly nauseous. “I don’t think I was ever supposed to be that big,” I found myself saying, “I think I’m supposed to be smaller than women.”

Wait? What was I saying?? What was I telling these girls?!?

“Yeah, it’s silly, men being bigger than us,” Lexi offered, “isn’t it, Katie?”

Behind me, in the mirror, the blonde towered. “Mmmhm,” she mused, looking down at me and standing straight. She was likely nearly six feet in height, well over that in her heels. Most men would be shorter than her. I was dwarfed. “This seems so much more…natural.”

“Your world, Dr. J, is now one of giant women, isn’t it?” Lexi said, shifting from her crouch and now slowly standing, looking down at me as she rose to loom over me, “And it’s getting harder and harder to believe, hm? That there’d ever been anything else?”

I looked up at Lexi, from below the shelf of her impressive breasts, and then back at Katie. She also peered down at me over the swell of a mighty bosom. . 

“C’mon shorty,” the blonde then said, linking one finger into the ring of my lapel and slinging her bag up onto her shoulder, “let’s go...”

===========================================

thx to RiF for edits.

I spun away from the mirror hanging on my apartment wall in a sudden panic, eyes wide, the door was opening. Oh shit! I looked around wildly for something to hide my fully erect nakedness, but, in my frozen state, all I managed to do was awkwardly cover as much of myself as I could with my hands. With the rhythmic click of high heels entered Lexi, a recent hire, and there was another woman behind her. Katie, bleach blonde and an older friend of Melissa’s. Both were wearing red party dresses. 

There was only the briefest of pregnant pauses as they both walked in only to be greeted by the sight of their naked boss standing dismally before them.“Oh my god Dr. J!!” Lexi exclaimed with a gasp and a stifled laugh, hand shooting up to cover her mouth. My attempt to hide myself was pitiful at best, only serving to make my predicament that much more obvious. Katie, unlike Lexi in front of her, did nothing to stifle her own laughter. 

“Hahahaha wow Dr. J…really happy to see us huh??” Katie laughed, eyeing my obvious erection, which at a thick nine-plus inches looked monstrous on my 4’7” frame. .

Ugh…hadn’t I locked the door?!?

“G-girls no..!” I yelped, blood finally rushing back to my head in my shock and alarm. I was able to find  the couch, and scrambled towards it.  “H-how did y-you get i-???“ Maybe if could hide behind the couch and-

“Nuh uh uh…” Lexi stopped me, stepping between me and the couch and dangling a familiar looking key from her fingertips. “Melissa asked us to come up and make sure you were getting dressed-“

“Which you very obviously aren’t…” Katie added gleefully drinking in my pathetic situation with wide eyes.

“So no hiding little guy, come on, back to the mirror…”

Lexi and Katie both worked together as part of our “marketing and communications department”, but they were not in their office clothes, for sure. Both were dressed for the party in their red dresses, high heels, hair and makeup. Wasting no time they both stood on either and side of me and ushered me back to my cheap, full-length mirror.

“So, you were playing around on your phone, hm..?” Katie chided, standing up straight, on my left.

“Did we catch you looking at naughty pictures,” Lexi concluded, towering over me on my right, “...when you should have been getting dressed, huh?” 

“Is that why you have a boner?”

At just over four-and-a-half feet tall, I was more than a foot shorter than each of these young women. Now, with them in their heels, I was a lot shorter still. My face was barely at boob-height to both of them. And there was boob. A lot of boob.

Katie’s red dress was long, a sheath on her curvy figure that reached down to her knees. It was of this new fashion women were wearing these days, with flesh peeking out through a series of windows down the front, nearly to her navel. It left no doubt as to the volume of her tits and invited the male gaze to imagine all sorts of things. Its clingy fabric also highlighted the size and weight of her enhanced (surgically but, also somehow, otherwise) breasts and - from the reflection I caught of it in the mirror - her well-developed rear. The look was sophisticated, though, high-necked with shoulders and upper arms covered. High heels, huge hoop earrings and hair done up elegantly completed her stylish look...

Lexi’s red dress, on the other hand, was more classic party-girl and exposed quite a bit more skin. Thin spaghetti straps met behind her neck and held up a bodice that plunged deep to show off her own impressive chest. The bit of material that did cover her torso appeared to be some sort of slick velvet, and did nothing to conceal her soft arms, comely shoulders, or attractive back. A slit up the side of the mid-length skirt flaunted a sexy leg up to the hip. She was also in pump heels and hoop earrings, but unlike Katie’s cultured blond bun, Lexi’s long dark hair fell in plush waves down past her shoulders, contrasting her pale complexion. 

Both girls looked at me patiently as I blatantly ogled their figures.

“So, yeah…you’re still naked,” Katie finally stated, highlighting the obvious, “and late. The party’s already started.” 

“I believe we’re going to have to dress him, Katie,” Lexi decided. 

“Yeah but like this? That’s going to be tough. Look at him. He’s, like, 90% boner.”

“Aww, now he’s blushing,” Lexi cooed as I was doing my best to shy away from her eyes. 

“Look at you. You’re so cute when you’re embarrassed…”

“Yeah.” Lexi’s voice softened as her eyes focused on my most impressive feature. “None of the girls downstairs’ll be able to keep their hands off you…”

“That’s if Melissa decides to share you for a minute.”

“Why should we wait?” Lexi suggested, “I think we should take care of him now. It’s what Melissa would want.”

That jolted me back to reality. 

“Really?” Katie questioned, with immaculately arched brow. 

“Oh for sure,” Lexi decided, “Think about it. There’re going to be cameras on him as soon as he walks in. He can’t show up like this. I’ve organized Channel 5 to be here and they won’t be able to use anything they get if he’s…like….” She gestured to my erection.

“w-wait, girls, hold on…” I implored, finally speaking up. 

“Oh hush, Melissa won’t mind,” Lexi tutted me, “Will she, Katie?”

“Haha honestly no,” Katie laughed, “but still we should be getting him downstairs.”

“We can be quick,” Lexi insisted, again indicating my monstrous, engorged manhood. 

“Okay well…you do it,” Katie agreed, replying to Lexi, "I don't want to ruin my makeup.”

Like a schoolgirl told she could be the one to clap the erasers, Lexi’s smile widened as she clapped her hands and crouched alongside me....

“Is that okay, little guy?” she asked, pretending as if I finally had some imprimatur in this situation, “If we clean you out before your big evening?”

‘Clean me out’?? Ugh had it actually come to this? While admittedly I hadn’t had relief all afternoon (half an eternity, for me) I was not going to suffer the ignominy of-

‘Uuurhk!!” I bleated, as immediately Lexi’s soft hand batted mine aside and clasped around my shaft. Stars swam in my vision and I felt my knees nearly buckle. Immediately I realized that despite her asking my permission, I really had no choice in this matter. Still, she asked me again. 

“Does this feel okay, Dr. J?” she cooed, feigning the innocence of a young girl who had no idea what she was doing, even as her hand took its first firm, practiced stroke up my erection.

“Oh, chhhhrist,” I groaned, and started to wobble on my feet. My vision swam again and it was only due to Katie’s hands coming to my shoulders, as she stepped behind me, that I was able to remain standing. 

“Language,” Katie corrected me sternly, capturing my gaze on the mirror.  

“I think he likes it,” Lexi giggled, starting to stroke me, her confident grip around my cock slowly beginning to pump my manhood, “Do you like it? Do you like having us here to empty you out before the big party? So you don’t have to do it yourself, or go downstairs to the ladies with this big, nasty boner?”

My heart was slamming around my chest, and the electricity of an oncoming climax had already gripped my loins, but I was still able to offer a cognizant thought. “I…I don’t know if it’s going to h-help…”

“Oh, what do you mean, little one?” Lexi pouted from her crouch, looking up at me and squeezing her breasts together to bloom them up into a voluptuous swell. The sight nearly made me come right then and there, and - noticing how fully she had my attention - her smile curled. “‘Not going to help’, hm? Am I not doing this right?”

“Yeah Lex I think he means it’ll just come back,” Katie offered, looking over my head at herself in the mirror, primping her bun with one hand, holding me in place with the other, “I hear he can get hard, like, ten seconds later.”

“Well…we still have a job to do, and he’s not going to fit into any pants looking like this.,” Lexi <giggled>, giving her shoulders a little shimmy to make her big, natural breasts wobble. She smiled again at my groan, and now gripped me with two hands. “You know, I’ve heard all about you…about this…” she said, looking into my eyes again with feigned tenderness but squeezing my shaft forcefully, “but it’s the first time I’m seeing it.” Now with both hands secure and soundly on task, she continued to pump me up and down. 

I was speechless - unless the guttural moans blurking from my throat counted as language - and just stood there passively and watched Lexi’s boobs jiggle as she jerked me off. 

Katie, meanwhile, had pulled me back more firmly into her warmth. Though she was the more aloof of the two here, there was strangely something about her body that gravitated me towards her more than Lexi. Did that mean anything? Maybe it did, but, if you would  please excuse me dear reader, at that moment I didn’t have the wherewithal to ponder ‘why?’. With my head pressed back into the blonde’s bosom, I felt her take a deep breath behind me, and it felt right. The supple straps of fabric that ran across her otherwise low-cut bodice were the only things keeping my head from sinking completely between her tits. Her voice came from behind me. “Girl, can’t you do this quicker?”

Not that I was complaining but honestly, yes. After an afternoon of abstinence and with a display of cleavage, Melissa could have had me coming in a near instant. Not that Lexi wasn’t beautiful, or skilled at her task - quite the opposite. Katie was right though; I was somehow managing to exhibit more restraint. 

“Yeah Dr. J are you holding back on me?” Lexi pouted, redoubling her efforts of making her breasts burgeon up out of her bodice. 

“You could let him look at his phone again, at those pictures of Missy, that’ll do it,” Katie offered, indicating the phone I'd been looking at before they entered, which was still, absently, in my right hand, “plus If he nuts while thinking about her we all get a little Bliss.”

My mind shifted back to the many shattering orgasms I’ve had in the past few months, and the visions that came with them. Girls laughing, screaming, and growing. I’d seen the viral video many times, the one that apparently catapulted me into some kind of stardom, but the soul-tearing notion that the girls all grow when Melissa makes me orgasm was still a lot to bear. It was ridiculous, but - the image of Lexi’s bosom expanding right here in front of my eyes, bulging even more lasciviously over the neckline her dress in a spurt  of growth? Or, looking up now at Katie in the mirror behind me and picturing her getting taller, tits pooching in new swells out of the boob windows of her own dress? - nnnngh. 

Katie, as I’d looked up at her, caught my eye again in the reflection and the new curl to her smile seemed to suggest that she knew exactly what I was thinking. “Wouldn’t you like that? Helping us fill our dresses a little better before we go downstairs?” she purred, “Give all the girls already at the party a little thrill, even before you get there?”

“Unnnhhhh..:”

Lexi giggled, watching my apparently adorable consternation. 

“I think you do want to help me fill my dress,” Katie stated, a new strength in the grip she had on my shoulder, “Here, let’s try this…”

At that, from behind me, Katie lifted one of the lower straps of her dress’s front, one which ran just under her breasts and across her sternum, and pulled it up behind my head. She stretched it out above me, and lowered it down past my eyes and over my face. Letting it snap back into place, across my mouth, it pulled my head back firmly into her. 

“UuRk!” I exclaimed, my mouth now full of red spandex like a gag. She had me trapped! Strapped! I looked into the mirror seeing myself wide-eyed strapped to her like a-

“Oh shit Katie that’s hot,” Lexi sighed, the hands she had around my cock suddenly stopped as she marveled at the sight, “it’s like your dress was made for that…”

“I kinda think it was,” the blonde behind me agreed, looking down at my plight in the mirror. She cocked her head, pleased. She reached behind the crown of my head a bit.  “Mm now, how ‘bout this?”

A second strap, now, stretched out and snapped into place, a spandex strip taut across my forehead. I tried to pull away but between the two bridges of stretchy fabric and Katie’s grip on my shoulders I couldn’t move an inch. I felt the bulging swells of Katie’s warm underboob pressing against my ears. Lexi’s laugh, though, was still as clear as day. 

“Omigod Katie, imagine if we brought him down there like this?” she suggested, conjuring up the image of a shrunken, naked geriatrician showing up at a work event strapped to the curvy body of one of his young employees. 

“Wow just think, Dr. J,” Katie mused, biting her lower lip as she pictured it herself. Her body was warming behind me. “If you were just a little smaller, like three feet tall, and I slid you all in, trapped you in there with me.”

“Do it, Katie,” Lexi breathlessly urged, “Put him in that dress with you.”

“No, he’s still too big,” Katie answered, hands sliding possessively down my thin, naked chest to rest on my bare stomach, “and it’d ruin my dress.” She watched as Lexi’s two-handed ministrations began anew, slowly pumping my erection. “But now I definitely want some Bliss from you. Where’s that phone?

I’d dropped it.

“Aww he doesn’t need pictures of Melissa,” Lexi cooed, “he’s got us. I just want to see what it’s like to make this monster explode…and have him watch me as I make him do it.”

As Lexi again shimmied her upper body, drawing my eyes back to her jiggly cleavage, I couldn’t help but notice Katie giving her a funny, pejorative look. Her response was one of obvious disappointment. “Fine, whatever. Just get it done.” 

Katie wanted me thinking about Melissa during my imminent orgasm, where to Lexi that didn’t seem as important. It appeared to be a source of some tension between them. What was the reason here? Did Lexi not care about this ‘Bliss’ they could all share? I had noticed, over the past couple months, how many of the girls talked about it, in whispers if I was around. This ‘Bliss’ was apparently a big deal around the office, but some of the girls had grown from it more than others. Lexi, for example, came to us as a naturally tall, chesty (though, I’d learn this later, not 100% natural) young woman when she was hired. Maybe she and some other new girls had grown an inch or so of height, put on some slight embellishments to their original curves, whereas Katie - and Josie, and Randi, and Shanette and a good group of others had absolutely bloomed. I wouldn’t be surprised if Katie was nearly a half-foot taller than on her first day here and, even though it was Lexi’s hands on me, servicing me, bulging her big boobs for my benefit, my eyes kept drifting up to her. She had my head strapped to her chest, for one thing, but she had a different sort of beauty than Lexi, something more enthralling to me. I took a deep breath and it was Katie’s perfume that filled my rattly chest. There was definitely something - for lack of a better term - more “Melissssy” about her. 

“Maybe just watch me,” Katie suggested, our gazes locking as Lexi continued to pump…my…cock. 

Wh-what just happened?

Against her bigger body I shivered and watched as the blonde took a moment to look in the purse slung over her left shoulder. There had been something in her voice, an eerie energy, and it served to hold my eyes glued to her as she pulled a tube of lipstick out from her bag and popped the top. 

“Or look at my tits…” Lexi posited, shimmying her shoulders again and trying to draw my eye. Was there some sort of battle of wills between these two? Lexi obviously wanted my eyes on her chest, the sight of her jiggling to bring me to climax in her fists. My gaze, though, was now captivated by Katie and whatever it was she was doing. 

It was a red lipstick, lurid red, and I was rapt watching her apply it to her puckered lips high above me. Casually she smeared it over her full m-m-mouth…

“oh g-god…” I was right there, suddenly, ready, thighs and hips flexing and balls tensing up as Katie lowered the lipstick and-

<Pop> Katie puckered and popped her lips, and then in that same weirdling voice as before she told me, simply: “Come.”

“oh g-ggg-“

Suddenly, then, the blonde stepped forward, pressing me with her strong hips to my lower back and her thighs to my own hips. I was squashed forward into the mirror, sandwiched between her and its glass surface. All I could see in it was my own face and Katie’s tits mashed around it while I was still in Lexi’s hands, my shaft and head pushed into the cool mirrorrr andddd…

“NNNNNNGGGgghhhhHHhh….!” 

I had turned my head as much as I could from between Katie’s tits, so that my cheek rather than my nose mashed the mirror. Down between my legs, though, I felt myself explode in Lexi’s hands and onto the glass..

“There you go…” I heard Katie behind me, her larger body leaning into mine from behind, thrusting me into the mirror. She used her strong thighs to fuck me into the wall.

Lexi, for her part, had yelped a bit with Katie’s sudden show of force, but was now laughing. “Holy shit dude look at all this!” she exclaimed, obviously impressed by what was erupting out of me, “Come on, more!”

Her hands, my cock, and the mirror felt slobbered with my stuff; I could feel the briny warmth on my hips and thighs already. Katie still pushed me mercilessly into the glass, and I humped Lexi’s hand and the slick glass surface until…until…

“You got him, Katie?” Lexi asked, as my vision had begun to swim, “He looks a little wobbly…”

“I got him,” she purred, a new huskiness to her voice that belied a deep satisfaction. She supported me from behind, with her body, with her hands, and with the fabric of her dress’ bodice around my face.

I closed my eyes, for a moment, and could almost imagine it was Melissa behind me. My orgasm had waned, and I twitched in its last gasps in Lexi’s grip. It would be so easy to fall asleep again, right here…

When Katie spoke again, her voice was once more one of preternatural command:

“Stay awake for us, Dr. J,” she said, “You’ve got a big night ahead of you…”

===============================================

thx to RiF for edits

Growing into the Job, Post 440: GRWM Dr. J

Re: Why haven’t you checked this out?

An old subject line from my friend Rich had mocked me in my inbox earlier, the email unable to be read. I now stood in front of the cheap, full-length mirror hanging on the wall in my disheveled apartment with the new phone - my Bebihon - that my girlfriend Melissa had gifted me. I’d just got the alert that she’d…jesus what’s happened to my life?… finally given me permission to open the message. The fact that I was naked and supposed to be getting ready for this grand opening event that was already half-underway downstairs didn’t seem to be registering with me at that moment. The clothes they had rented me still hung in my small closet, and I’d been told to be ready by 7 o’clock…and it was now 7:13. My mind, as it was wont to do these days, had drifted. 

It was, of course, humiliating it was to have to request access to my own email on my own phone. It was kinda ridiculous. I had to wait hours fort Melissa’s consent before I could even open a message. It was for my own protection, she’d said, that she’d bought me this phone, along with all its restrictions to keep me safe. They all seemed to think the world was becoming too big and too dangerous a place for a ‘vulni’ man like me, and any unmonitored communications from the outside world could prove to be risky. After I’d requested access to the message, I’d had to wait for her assent and it had taken her all this time to acknowledge it from her own Mazafon. Maybe she was off preparing the event, getting herself ready, and when she had finally approved it, allowed me to open it, it had come with a text from her, a briefly ominous caveat: We’ll talk about this laterrr. 

The email from Rich, a fellow geriatrician, was a reply to what I’d sent him earlier this week. I’d told him about the changes in my life since we’d seen one another at the conference - changes at work, changes in my love life, changes with my health. It was my shrinking that seemed to concern him the most, and he’d obviously gotten the vibe that I wasn’t doing much to pursue investigating it, or seeking treatment. As I read his email - being a physician himself, it got kinda jargon-y, and he was offering to help - I began to feel a bit funny, lightheaded, even nauseous. I think it was stress. Maybe I was just getting old and needed some reading glasses because as I came towards the part about how he’d done some research and work on his end to find me a local specialist that could help, my vision had become blurry. I was just barely able to make the final bit out, right at the end:

‘I made you an appt with their endocrinology clinic. It’s still run by guys, so you can trust them. It's this coming Tuesday. Be there.’

I felt my world had been becoming more and more insular every day, by leaps and bounds, and the idea of seeking out care away from hom…away from clinic here was making me feel weird. I considered starting to research it myself - what kind of endocrinology clinic was this? Was it just for men? That’s weird right? It gave me an immediate bad taste in the back of my mouth. Why was Rich doing this, anyway? Butting into my life? I mean, I knew he was worried about me, but…c’mon. In fact, when I considered looking up this endocrinologist online I began feeling bad, anxious, even nauseous. This was probably just not the right time to do it; I could search them up later. Yeah, later.

I let the hand that held my phone hang down at my side, and I looked at myself in the mirror. I shivered, seeing the reflection of the naked man that looked back at me. 

Fuck. 

I was…what? 4’7”? I weighed 73 lbs this morning. I looked like a skinny child… well, not like a child. Children had different proportions, and certainly didn’t sport schlongs that hung down to their knees. I looked like a…admit it, dude…like a man that was shrinking, withering. I knew this should be filling me with existential horror, the reality of it, but it didn’t. Well, at least not as much as it should have. It sort of weirded me out that I wasn’t more aggressively afraid. 

There were other thoughts, though, swirling up into my mind, rising from some inner depths. Deep secrets that I had never shared with anyone surfacing, bubbling to life. I’d always realized that society's old definition of masculinity was being strong and confident, and that it didn't include being attracted to taller, dominant women. So I’d played that part all my life, in my career, and in my marriage to Sheryl - the man, the masculine guy, or at least my version of it. In my deep underwater grottos, though, hidden fantasies had always lurked. In the past I was afraid of allowing these to rise and show themselves, knowing I would be judged, ridiculed, or worse. It had actually happened after the breakup of my affair with Rina, four or so years ago, when my whole staff at the time had gotten an earful from her, in her anger, summarizing my, uh, proclivities for all to hear. It was humiliating. It had even happened when I was a young teen, when my uncle (who’d raised me after the death of my grandparents) found my picture stash under my bed. So, I’d learned the hard way to keep my secrets to myself, tucked into the caverns of my inner life.

But now things were different.

Society had started to change, and I had started to change. I could see it in the mirror, in the thin, shrunken man looking back at me. He seemed to recede further and further away from those old notions of masculinity, more “vulni” every time I looked, and maybe it wasn’t horrible. He was different, he was new. 

I took a deep breath. 

Everything was different…but was it actually worse? I mean, before…had it really been all that great? What was it about my old life, the old ways, that were better? Did I really miss it? Being responsible for all my patients? Organizing the practice, taking care of a home? I missed what I’d had with Sheryl, maybe...but the times I missed were from years gone by, ancient history.  Really, the most exciting thing to me from the old days had been the women. The affairs with the younger women - Rina, Deanna before her - had been intoxicating. Equally so, just having women all around me at work - back then it had been Marisela, Lakshmi, even Hilda and the others that had quit - being surrounded by females had always been the only thing I truly loved about my old life. My new life, and in fact this new world, now had so much more, more of them. Not just here at work, but even outside. In government, in business, seemingly everywhere, female authority was eclipsing the old ways. The new world was being filled with, and run by, women - and my world was being filled with her. 

Melissa.

Oh my god, Melissa. 

My heart fluttered, my throat caught as I thought of her. I was flabbergasted by the fact that we were together, in love in fact. She was utterly gorgeous, getting so tall, becoming some sort of superwoman and - look at me, naked and pale, dick the size of my forearm -  I was becoming this.

I’d been telling myself that finding a diagnosis, finding treatment and putting an end to my shrinking was the rational choice. That, though, would put an end to this dark thrill I got waking up every day and finding myself sunk another inch deeper into the stygian depths of my old fantasies. I was being pulled down in their slow vortex, their warm, swirling pool - couldn’t I just let myself sink? Give myself up to it and drown in pleasure? What was rational about fighting it, making myself miserable for no gain? I knew, full well, that the smaller I got, the bigger Melissa seemed. And the bigger Melissa became, the more enraptured by her I felt. When I was able to push all these existential fears out of my mind, I knew that a life of getting littler in Melissa’s strong arms could be the greatest bliss I’d ever known.

Barely even realizing I’d done it, I’d brought my phone back to life, and swiped to an old picture of her...

Nnngh. Oh god.

Along with the gift of my phone, Melissa had filled an album on it with pictures of herself, old and new, to…what had she said?…”keep me company”. Where before I’d had to hide them from my wife - and they’d been the eventual undoing of my marriage - now pictures of the tall, busty brunette were something I was obviously being encouraged to ogle. 

Christ. She is so perfect. So fucking perfect. 

I looked up, into the mirror, and then down. I took a step back, so I could watch.  My cock, the monster of a thing that lived between my legs and increasingly ran my life, was stiffening. I’d always had a large penis, more than nine inches, the most impressive thing about an otherwise nondescript body. Back when I was nearly six feet tall it was a stirring sight when erect, but now…my god. Watching myself harden was a total spectacle, something between a horror movie and a circus freak show. I had shrunk, it had not. Rising from my withered frame to point up to my chest, it was nearly a fifth of my total height, thick and snaked with pulsing veins. It was becoming iron strong where I was more and more increasingly brittle.

Aside from the dread of it, though, there was something secretly rousing about the idea of becoming progressively smaller while my manhood did not. I watched in the mirror as my erection grew and grew and grew, impressing even myself, and I imagined it ballooning further, soaring in proportion to my still shrinking body. Suddenly I found myself gripped by the notion of being totally overwhelmed by my own sexuality, my legs failing, my entire self being pinned to the ground helpless underneath it as it throbbed, thicker nearly than my entire torso. And then, from above me, a huge, elegantly female hand reached down to-

The door to my apartment <clicked>. 

“Dr. J? Are you in here?”

===============================================

thx to RiF for help in editing

Growing into the Job, Post 439: GRWM Angie

I want their eyes on me tonight, I want to make them look. 

I know lots of the girls will be wearing these Carrier dresses, maybe they'll even put little manikins inside them to fill them out the way they’re meant to be filled out. Oh god haha, I wish I had one that looked like him. I swear, all the girls at this place may be turning into Amazons, but none of them are going to look half as hot as me, not even that new busload of uber-bitches stand a chance. I’ve put on some weight, yeah, but he likes us heavy. 

He’s going to notice the outfit. Even if I don’t have his manikin I'm going to make him picture it, make him think about what it’d be like to spend his shrunken little night inside my dress, smushed onto my right tit, or along my hip, right inside one of these flesh windows where he can see out past his strappy little cage. I know he’ll think about it, it’s the way guys are today. They all want to be small and inferior. I just wish the perfume was ready, so I could start getting him addicted to me. But in the meantime he’s still her junkie, the queen of the bimbo bees. Knowing her she’ll probably tether him for the first time tonight - women are starting to do that, too. She’ll want to show all the cameras exactly who this new vulni prince, Mr. Famous, belongs to. Well, he may get leashed to her, but soon I’ll make him beg to be mine.

===========================================

thx to RiF for edits

Growing into the Job, Post 438: GRWM Gianna

I don’t care how fucking big this study is becoming, how successful the subjects are getting, or how much of an impact it’s having. Yeah, the bosses at Evolution think I’m fucking great, and I know this whole thing is going to be even more enormous now that it’s got its own wing in the new building. I still can’t believe I have to do this thing, this fucking thing. They’re going to have me up on a big video screen? And I’ll be looking in through a stupid camera? Great. No thanks. That's stupid. I think I’m just going to show up there... Haha yeah I’ll do that. I'll show up there and flex these tits and these fucking pheromones that want to fucking take over the world but have been stuck, quarantined here in my fucking living room for six months. Wouldn't that be rich? If I showed up and fucking took over this shit from her. 

Gianna Albertini looked in the mirror. 

Or maybe I’ll just show up as her. I could just go in and blow all their goddamn minds, give all those simpy motherfuckers what they really want, just more of her. That’s what this shit is doing to me right? This crap they’re still having me put into my thigh with their fucking needles every other Thursday. It’s making me more like her, because that’s what he likes. It’s so fucking stupid it makes me want to hurl…

…but if I were her? The queen of this circus? I could have…

…

Despite the hour, despite the fact that she’d already finished her hair and makeup, Gianna Albertini couldn't resist the urge to indulge in her own desires. They’d grown monstrous as of late, at times consuming her every waking thought.. She sat down on her bed, the thought of his disproportionate stature forming in her mind. She couldn't help but imagine what it would be like to be the dominant figure in a relationship with him, towering over the twerp and indulging his every need as he quivered in her shadow. The more she thought about it, the more she felt her own body resonating with and responding to the tantalizing fantasy. The more she immersed herself the more an increasingly familiar feeling began to take hold, and, god dammit, she could feel the bones in her face changing again.

She tossed and turned on her bed, lost in the fantasy as her fingers began to trace over the outline of her breasts, pausing to linger on her already hardening nipples. As her hands traveled down her flat stomach, she began to imagine what it would be like to be with him.Standing tall and dominant above him…watching his face as he looked up at her, his eyes wide…his body quivering with need for her. He would be completely at her mercy.

The thought sent shocks of pleasure through her body as she moaned.

Fuck you Melissa Monroe I could do him so much better than you. 

As Gianna fell back onto the mattress and slipped her fingers into her underwear, she imagined it was his small, weakling hands there, timidly exploring her folds and her body. She pictured it, him kneeling before her, looking up at her with a mixture of trepidation and arousal. As she reached her climax, she envisioned him shrinking even further, his tiny body now at her mercy. She sat up, the scent of sweat and sex clinging to her and she made up her mind. 

It might not  be tonight…

But soon, so very soon…

…I’m going to have him.

=====================================

Thanks to reader Moriarty for the original images, and RiF for edits on the copy