#fetish3d

We are becoming a younger, more modern, and like more vibrant team, something that will no doubt better serve the needs of our patients and our own Doctor J. Along with all the changes we would like to start to introduse a new corporate culture that better reflect’s the changing face of the practice...

“So, uh, Melissa…” I began, already leery of where this was going. What would my associate RNP Vida, or my older employees like Marjorie and Doris think? How would they take this?

“Just keep reading,” she urged, smiling, obviously proud of her creation, this memo, as she subtly leaned across the desk towards me. I...I really…

oh man that perfume…

...I really didn’t want to disappoint her.

Look around. We are a company of women. Many businesses crush women’s ambitions, hold them back, and in the past I don’t think this place really did anything to help. Right? But I want Far Horizons Medical Assosiates to be a place where you can grow and aspire to be something greater. So with this Culture Reset we are going to be putting less emphasis on hierarcy and more of a premium on teamwork, participation and consensis. We want to empower women, help them evolve, let them express themselves…

Ok, aside from the grammar and spelling mistakes, this was beginning to sound like an excerpt from a textbook, or notes from a half-baked lecture from a business class at a local community college...which it likely was. 

Her eyes were so glimmery, she smelled so nice. Her boobs were so big.

But, I mean, this was...I guess…not all bad…?

“Is it okay?” she asked, eagerly watching my face, reading my eyes, my brow, as I continued.

You’ve seen the news, right? Women are rising. We want our fair share, and we can take it! They'll just have to learn what it's like being shoulder to shoulder with their equals. In fact they’ll learn we’re more than their equal

“‘M-more than equal’?” I asked, wondering where this was going, and who exactly “they” were. This seemed more than just some boilerplate morale boosting language. It made me nervous that Melissa seemed to be parroting some of the talking points I’d heard from some of these female candidates running for various offices, around town, in the state, even nationally. Had she had help writing this, from someone else on the staff? Or from someone outside the office? And did I want this sort of mentality here? This was (ostensibly, we can get into that later) my office. My practice, right? “What do you mean, when you say ‘more th-..’?”

“Well, girls, I mean,” Melissa smiled, leaning in even a little more, inadvertently highlighting her stupendous figure, emphasizing the shape of her huge left breast in her top in contrast to her tiny waist as it pushed forward towards met,  “We can be equal and THEN some...right?”

“Uh...I guess..?” I replied, submissive thrills from deep inside me causing jitters in my belly, the mass of that tit like a magnet to my gaze.

“Keep reading,” she told me.

“O-okay…”

In the name of embracing our womanhood, aknowledging the changing face of the practice, I have already instituted Casual Fridays and would like to announce other changes which I think will be important…

 What followed was a not-insignificant list of changes Melissa was suggesting for the office. I read on…

“New desk chairs...okay, I can see that,” I agreed, nodding as I recited the list, “‘We will be redecorating the breakroom and want your suggestions!’? Sure. Time for grooming?” I asked, a bit confused, “Like, putting time aside for, what? Teaching? Encouraging the girls to succeed?”

What I was told was that the girls needed extra breaktime in the day for makeup.

4. Mandatory (girls only!) Happy Hour Meetings. Tues night is Margarita night at Dempsey’s! 

5. Medical Assitants will now have the option of either there scrub uniforms or the professional outfit of they’re choice.

Wait this is what Amelia had asked for, earlier. Rrrrrr…..

“I...I don’t know about the uniform th-...thing. It’s...” I began, but my stammerings began to fail as I watched while, without a word, Melissa stood up from where she sat on my desk, stepped around towards me…

“...i-it’s been s-scrubs for s-so...l-l-long-” I tried to press. 

With a smile she looked down at me, watched me stutter...

“I-I-I th-think…”

...and sat in my lap.

“You were saying?” she asked, with a knowing, crooked smile.

“Uh…it’s sounds...”

“It sounds good?” she offered, her confident weight having settled itself fully onto me.

“I...guess?”

“No problem with the new dress code?” she asked, looking down to brush a mote of lint from the shoulder of my jacket.

“Um, uh…no, it’s-”

“I’m glad you’re seeing things my way,” she concluded with a mischievous smile, dimpled and victorious. Almost as a reward, she blessed me with a nice deep inhale, a straightening of her back and shoulders. Her big chest bulged.

...

“Is that all I have to do,” she laughed at me, seeing me speechless, “to get you to do anything I want? Sit on you lap?” She was joking but I’d found myself like this with Melissa before: with her heavy weight in my lap, her body overwhelming mine, I’m basically helpless - and to my chagrin we obviously both knew it. “You’re too easy!”

“You’re...you’re making fun of me, aren’t you?” I managed, mortified by my lack of will. 

She giggled at me. “Yes, a little..!” she teased, “but don’t try to tell me you don’t like it..!” 

She poked me in the belly. 

“Hey...!” It was then that I realized...shit. I was getting hard, quickly, under the soft girth of her wide, muscular rear. Crap, I can’t let her...

But she just giggled again at my protest, as I squirmed under her, trying weakly to escape more playful pokes. Was she tickling me? I moved, convulsing spasmodically, which only served to rub my thickening shaft up and into her bottom.

She settled her left hand on my ribcage, under my jacket, seemingly oblivious ...but was that roll of her hips...nnnnngh, chrissssst, don’t do it, don’t press back...down into me an accident?

“Your diet must be working,” she commented casually, now inspecting me with hand and fingers,  “You seem so skinny.”

“D-diet?” Her perfume was overwhelming me, and I did all I could not to moan in pleasure. Though I’m sure she could feel me, now totally hard and pressing up into her, she still gave no sign of noticing. 

“All the girls think you’re on a diet,” she said, plainly, “you’ve been looking…”

Her hand ran up my chest and she squeezed my shoulder. 

“...smaller. Like, wow. Just look,” Her right hand squeezed my right upper arm. “I think my arms are bigger than yours…” she said, now showing off her own triceps, which even through the sleeves of her dress looked large, “...by a lot.”

I said nothing as she regarded me, as if seeing me with new eyes...like she was sizing me up. 

“Here, “ she said, abruptly, “your tie is a mess, stand up.” 

“Wh-what?”

“Your tie. Let me fix your tie,” she said, as she stood off my lap, now towering over me, “Stand up.”

Cowed by the confidence of this unreasonably attractive young woman, a girl I’d spent more hours furtively obsessing over than I need to admit, I did as I was told. With as little space as we had behind my desk, when I stood we were face-to-face. Or, rather...face-to-throat. 

I was shocked by how tall she was. 

She smiled, as if knowing exactly what I was thinking.  Stepping back an inch, so her breasts no longer pressed into my collarbone, she began to dutifully straighten my green, striped tie. She looked down at me as she began again to speak. “You have to admit, your employees are all women,” she said, “but this place has been a man’s world for a long time. Now things are changing. We need a new culture, one where all our voices are heard. Where we’re all a little bit more...equal.”

“B-b-but…” I tried, but my voice was quelled as she inched, by a fraction, closer to me. Another wave of perfume filled me. ...what about me?

The physical superiority of this woman was apparent

”Yes it is true…” she continued, as if acknowledging my unspoken complaint, “Some of us are...just a little more equal than others.” Finished with my tie, she inspected her work. “Some of us are more built for the job than others.”

<gulp>

I’m sure she heard me swallow. 

Melissa giggled. “You’re thinking about how tall I am, aren’t you?” she asked, wryly, settling her hands on my thin shoulders. 

“I, uhhh…” I attempted, my heart racing. 

 “It’s my heels,” she apologized, “they’re six inches, so that makes me…”

Her eyes flashed. 

“...really tall <giggle!> They’re new, I brought them in today to wear out after work tonight.”

Her hands slid down my arms, as she bit her lower lip. She seemed to be sizing me up again. Her shoulders - broader than mine. Her hips - wider than mine. Oh god I was so hard. 

“You are coming, right?”

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

Super-humbled to have the awesome @fetish3d do some work for our story; the original render for the details I used can be found at his blog here. I also want to thank @ankle4u​ and FantasticMrMoose for their help in getting this done.

BONUS! For those with a healthy fetish for dry, intra-office communications, here’s Melissa’s full memo: 

and page 2 (”there’s a page two??”)