Steven Basic
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Growing into the Job, Post 454: Gala, p12
🕑 Added 2024-08-31 16:28:48 +0000 UTCEveryone 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 fade, warp into something else 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.
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thanks to RiF for his editing help
