GITJ Post 304: The Pink Wave, p2

“Thank you, thank you California,” some Kardashian spoke from the podium, to my incredulous ears, to all those surrounding the TV, and to the world. The perfume-heavy crowd around me cheered and raised their girly ‘BOOM!’ cocktails as the apparent senator-elect continued. “And watch out Washington, here we come!”

There it was, that feeling again. That weird tingle in my bones. I didn’t know it then but I know it now: I was shrinking, even as I sat there in the old scrubs I’d worn to work today (I had needed to go shopping, none of my stuff fit well). I took it as too much wine (I’d recently finished my first glass, and was trying to choke down my second) and too little to eat (a few fried tofu squares and a pork belly slider). But nope, it wasn’t that. It was me, a man ever so slightly, becoming…less, there on a bar stool, surrounded by women.

We’d been here nearly five hours, at this new cantina owned by the same group that ran the smoothie place. This speech, by - yes, it boggles my mind, too - the new senator, former reality show star and current business mogul was just one of a whole litany of victory announcements as races across the country were falling one-by-one to the New Women’s Party. I was in acquiescent shock, as was most of the male world it seemed. I hadn’t really been following politics, but we knew they’d be winning a couple races here and there. What was happening around the world was one thing, but our democracy wouldn’t put up with this fringe group, would it? I mean, yes, women had grown increasingly mad and fed up with the old ways, and they’d proved their powers at the polls in smatterings of other countries already. Maybe some of their candidates would make some headway here in the US. We’d have to be prepared for it. But, when it came down to it, we never expected…this.

“The Pink Wave looks good on you, America!” the strikingly regal woman spoke, standing proud and voice deeper than the valley-girl upspeak I remember from her in the past, “forget red, white and blue…I think pink is your new color!” The girls around me laughed, raised their drinks again. There’d been a drinking game everyone was playing: take a swig with every announced New Woman victory. After hours of this, the whole place was sloshed.

Melissa, earlier in the evening when she’d been more calm, more sedate, and not under the influence of the eight chocolate martinis I’d seen her suck down so far, had asked if I was okay being here. She’d warned me that the place might get rowdy, the girls beyond energized by the promise of what this night might hold. It had been a long time coming, and the fever of female pride and estrogen levels were both running high. Along with a full crowd of other women, there were maybe twenty of the girls from the office here at the bar. Men, too, yes…some. They’d come in with their dates, or in small groups by themselves, allowed in on this special occasion without a female companion. But now the men were all mostly sheepishly sitting back in the shadows, watching the girls as much as they were watching the election results come in, victory after victory for New Women across the nation. Keeping to themselves, for the most part; it seemed safer that way. The tingle in my bones reminded me of that.

“Women of America - this is our time!” came the voice of yet another New Woman candidate claiming the most recent victory for their party. This time it was a governor, from Michigan, who’d switched parties and handily won re-election after changes to term-limit restrictions. Earlier I’d heard one pundit say that plenty of men just didn't vote this year, an all-time low turnout, in fact, for our beleaguered gender. We were coming up against record voting numbers for women and hadn’t put up a fight over the past years while election laws were quietly being changed underneath us. “We are stepping out of the shadows, and it looks like men are stepping back into ours,” the governor spoke, a big brilliant grin growing wider among the cheers. She laughed, unable to hold back the exhilaration. “It feels good, doesn’t it ladies? Casting such a big shadow now?” she continued, nodding, addressing an adulating crowd, “But, men…don’t worry, don’t worry. We'll keep you safe back there. Just hang onto our skirts, we’ll take care of everything…like we always do.” Laughter came from the assembled mass.

“Mama’s got you, America!” a voice from the crowd called.

Suddenly I felt an elbow to my ribs, from my right. “How’s it feel, there in her shadow?” Josie asked me, smiling down.

I looked to my right, at her. “Huh?” I replied. Josie had been standing at the bar, next to where I sat on my stool. Like me she was still in her scrubs, as were some of the others who’d come right from work “Shadow? Whose?” I asked. She giggled, and then I looked up…up above me.

God help me I could see boob.

Melissa giggled from on high. “Are you getting too warm under there?” she asked, pulling me back by the chest into her with her free left arm. As we’d been standing, earlier, watching the television over the bar, my legs had become tired and I’d been brought to sit here, offered a seat. Josie now stood to my right, Lakshmi sat to my left with her fourth Amaretto sour, and Melissa was behind me, towering. My hour-old malbec sat mostly untouched in front of me.

There was a mirror behind the bar, and in it our eyes met. Melissa was dressed up tonight, for sure. Jeans, big earrings, a strapless black corset top that squashed her enormous breasts up into a jaw-dropping display of her wasp-waisted voluptuousness. Even now, just in reflection, the sheer volume of bare boob that burgeoned from her chest was mind-wrenching, and it all hovered just over my head. She was in high-heeled boots that…by god…must have made her over seven feet tall. Thusly, standing behind where I sat, her tits were above my head, an overhang, a ceiling. Lights came from above us and I could see in the mirror that I was indeed in her shadow.

“I’m, uh, fine,” I squeaked, not sure if my voice was heard over the din. All the girls here, women from my office and the throng of others, were amped up, noisy and for the most part drunk. It was past ten by now, and the alcohol had been flowing freely. I myself hadn’t been able to finish more than one glass of wine. Like I said I hadn’t eaten much, either. Maybe it was the portent of the night, what the outcome of the elections were going to herald, but my stomach was just not having it. Melissa, though, was having no such trouble. She reached over me to pick up her chocolate martini from the bar and downed it in one swig. Her eyes sparkled mischievously, still locked on mine in the mirror, and she placed her glass back on the bar to pick up mine.

Red wine sloshed heavily in the large goblet as she brought it to my lips. “C’mon, baby, drink with us..!” she lauded, and watched as my face scrunched up in distaste with the small sip she’d forced on me. Lakshmi, Josie, and now the bartender and several other girls were watching us.

“Awww it doesn’t look like he likes it,” Shanette cooed. She was standing to Melissa’s left and had - like her taller friend - taken the opportunity to change after work. She was wearing a skin-tight white tank that showed off cleavage nearly as impressive as Melissa.

“Yeah is it too sour, honey?” purred the ultrablonde Katie, longtime friend of Melissa’s and one of our “sales executives'', still in her work clothes. She’d shed her jacket and now her big enhanced boobs bulged from a tube top. She tottered in khaki capris and platform sandals.

“We can get you something sweeter?” Lakshmi offered, pushing her Amaretto sour a few inches closer to me on the bar.

“Yeah you owe us twenty-two gulps,” Josie added, reminding me of the drinking game, “I’ve been counting!”

Lakshmi picked up her Amaretto sour, offered it to me. “Maybe something sweeter?” she urged again. I shook my head, refusal.

“No his wine is fine. He just needs mama to warm it up for him,” Melissa giggled, as with her left hand she raised my goblet to her lips and took a big gulp into her mouth, while at the same time - with surprising strength - casually spun my tall chair on the ground to my left until I nearly faced her. Tilting my chin up my eyes first locked onto the jaw-dropping display of bosom that was just above my eye-line, but then I looked up past her shelf of boob - I was already shaking my head ‘no’ - to see that she was looking down at me, cheeks bulged with wine. She paused, eyes glittering in drunken amusement. She was not going to swallow that wine herself. Was she actually thinking of spitting it back into the glass and feeding it to me, like she’d done with my milk back at the office yesterday? That would have been embarrassing enough, here in front of everyone. But, as she handed the now half-full goblet to Lakshmi, I immediately knew she had an even more humiliating idea. I shook my head even more violently ‘no’ but soon my chin was captured, my jaw pushed open and Melissa had leaned down over to force her mouthful of wine into me, her mouth to mine. The girls around me erupted into laughter, hooting, and my eyes rolled back as I took the now warm, silky smooth Malbec into my mouth. It eased over my tongue, reclining into my mouth and filling it quickly with rich, warm fruit. It was nearly more than my mouth could hold, and I gurgled in shock from the back of my throat. I quickly closed my jaw and swallowed, her mouth still on me in a sealing kiss, and when I sat back and looked up at her with watery eyes she was smiling broadly. The finish of the wine across my palate was resplendent; it tasted of her. I was mortified.

“Omigod Missy do that again!” Josie crowed, and I felt the press of girls close in on me, even more eyes upon us. The girls were laughing, and I saw Lakshmi hand the wine glass back to Melissa.

Eyes still locked on mine and reading my face, Melissa took another healthy swig of red but this time swallowed it herself. “No, I think he’s had enough for now,” she said, smiling proudly above her assemblage of friends, “Haven’t you, sweetie?”

Just then, the crowd in the bar erupted, some new excitement having grabbed them and pulling everyone’s attention back to the TV screen above the bar. Melissa spun my chair back, again surprisingly easily, and we all looked up.

As we’d been distracted, new polls had closed and new results had come in. New Women had continued to sweep, and the anchor-lady in the green dress made her announcement. “We can now officially predict that the New Woman Party will have majority control of both the US Senate and House of Representatives…”

Cheers, all through the bar.

“Is that good?” I heard Shanette ask.

“Yes,” Lakshmi answered, “we will be able to create and pass new legislation and-“

“…and furthermore,” the redhead onscreen continued, as new numbers popped up on the display behind her, “We at Fox News are calling the race for the Presidency for Marlee Martin, of the New Woman Party.”

If the crowd had been loud before, exultant, they were absolutely thunderous now. Screams, shrieks and bellows nearly shattered the windows of the bar as the women packing it gloried in their triumph, this victory the ultimate sign that the world was now theirs. I covered my ears, and looked to see the small group of men that had fallen back to the shadows do the same. They cowered, looking around in bewilderment at the rapturous, nearly frenzied crowd. The place shook, walls trembled, and I felt the world of women close in around me.

“Oh god Dr. J do you see that??” someone crowed, as the election map - full of pink - came onscreen. Electoral votes were falling like dominoes across the country.

“We fucking won,” someone else declared.

“Jesus christ YES!” screamed an enraptured young woman.

The noise was deafening, and I was shook to the bones. I’d started to curl, unconsciously, into my seat, feeling my shoulders huddling inwards in anxiety. I felt, among these women, suddenly humbled, and small, and…unsafe. I wanted to disappear, avoid attention, and began to look for my escape. But, as my eyes darted to and fro, as my heart began to pound, I heard someone say “Get him!” I was then abruptly grabbed, under my arms from behind, and - whoah! - hoisted up from my seat.

“Haha!” Josie laughed as, with wide eyes, she watched Melissa nearly stand me up onto my stool and then, bending her knees, squat behind me. She moved her arms to wrap around my thighs and tuck her bare left shoulder under my butt while pulling me backwards. Then, straightening her legs, she stood back up, and the world fell below me and I began to wobble. My right hand went around her head for balance, and I found myself suddenly seated on her shoulder! Her left arm was wrapped, still, around my legs and I grabbed it with my free left hand, again for balance. Then, as we both looked at ourselves in the mirror over the bar, she removed her right arm, still able to hold me in that position, my legs draped down over her big breasts. She smiled right at me, as the girls around us cheered anew. Could she not see how humiliating this was?? Lifted like a sack of flour by your girlfriend, in front of everyone?!? Good god! I was perched, entirely, on her left shoulder!! My skinny legs jutted out over the shelf of her prominent chest.

“Oh my gaowd, Melissa!!” someone crowed.

“Look at him!”

My eyes shot about, around the bar, frantically. Down at the girls surrounding us - Katie, Shanette, Josie. Lakshmi, Mallory, Nadia. Everyone, most all my staff, even little Aubrey, looking up at me, laughing and smiling. I looked behind me, out over the whole crowd in the bar, women of all ages, and at the men in the shadows starting to slink away, or staring at the women exalting in victory. I felt myself flushing in mortification and indignity as Melissa held me aloft, and turned around to present me to the exuberant throng.

“Omigod look at him!”

Again, they all cheered, hoots and hollers and catcalls. She raised her right arm up, flexing her right bicep, and laughed, deep and strong in her show of female strength as she towered over everyone. They were all looking at us, some hollering diatribes, calling for more humiliation. What was I, suddenly?! Some token male as sacrifice on the day of victory?? It certainly felt that way!

“Higher!” someone yelled.

“Lift him higher!”

“Should I???” Melissa laughed, now looking up at me and meeting my gaze as I shook my head ‘NO!’ She laughed again, seeing how unnerved and shaken I was.

“W-what!?!?” I demanded, my voice shaking, confused, “What’s so funny?!”  It wasn’t like me to be so irked; I tried my best to play along, always, even in the face of indignities like this. But, it seemed, the smaller and weaker I got, the closer my anxieties were to the surface. I felt them like the tingling sensation in my bones. She wasn’t doing it on purpose (yet), or even conscious of it. But I can see, as I look back on it now, that her influence over me and my body was redoubling on itself. She was making me smaller, even now, as she laughed up at me.

“More, Melissa, more!”

“Higher!”

What were they talking about?? “M-Melissa…?” I stammered weakly, trying now to appeal to her sense of reason and modesty through the gallon of “BOOM!” chocolate martinis she’d drank, “C-can you take me off your sh-shoulder?”

“Ok sweetie,” she giggled, as the bar watched us, “If you insist..!”

At that she brought her right hand back, slipping it under and behind my knees and repositioning her left hand up my flank. With an ease of strength that no human should possess she slid me off her shoulder and began maneuvering me about in her arms. The palm of her left hand was now pressed up into my back and she held my left lower thigh in her strong right hand. She was shifting me up and down slightly, the balance of my weight moving from one arm to the other.

Suddenly it dawned on me what she was doing--she was searching for my center of gravity! Finally, with her left palm pressed firmly against my lower back, halfway between his shoulder blades and hips, she began to press me upward. The hand supporting my legs was released and with Mellisa's proud bark of triumph I blinked up at the ceiling, just inches from my face. I realized, with a lump in my gut, that I was being held aloft with just one arm! Held up like a rag doll by the dazzling young Amazon below me.

Though I faced upwards, I heard the crowd explode again around me.

“Look how strong your girlfriend is!!” someone called to me. Was that actually Melissa?!?

She was turning me around, now, displaying her trophy to the mob. I turned my head, and again I was looking in the mirror over the bar, seeing myself held like this. My body hung passively, and looked weak and spent. Her eyes again met mine in the mirror and, her right hand planted on her hip, she began to lower me to her shoulder. Was she going to let me down?? Something in her grin - broad, and growing broader still as the crowd rallied her on - hinted otherwise.

“Do it!” someone yelled.

Then Melissa pressed me, up, back towards the ceiling, to the cheers of the crowd. She held me there, for a good moment, and then lowered me back down again, and then up, repeating the press two more times. She did this effortlessly, showing me and the entire bar just how easy this was for her, a woman, her smile pure evidence of the pleasure she was experiencing by lifting a grown man like this. Her tall, young, muscular physique was on full display; she was resplendent, triumphant. What the fuck was happening?!?!

“WOMEN RULE!” someone called from across the bar.

That brought on screams, and more laughter from Melissa. She was drunk, but she was enjoying this! And me - I felt humiliated, ready to pass out from disgrace. She lowered me down, back to shoulder level, and my lolling eyes met Lakshmi’s brown glittering ones.

“Can you believe it, Doctor??” Lakshmi vaunted, her face inches from mine, “She can lift you over her head with just one hand!!”

As if on cue, Melissa did it again, just that, hoisted me back up for yet another rep.

“Omigod he’s got a boner!” laughed Brittni.

“Omigod a boner!” followed Bobbi.

What the fuck!?!?! I was - jesus christ - wearing scrubs, an old shrunken pair. I’d been brave enough to think that during the work day I could control myself but holy crap I was hard and they could all see!”

“Someone likes being picked up!”

“Picked up by a girl!”

“n-n-no!” I blurted, aghast at what was happening.

"C'mon, Dr J, admit it!” Josie called, “This is a real turn on for you, isn't it??"

I was speechless, and just absolutely helpless. The election results continued coming, the TV blaring female victories across the country.

"Well, if he’s not going to say anything,” someone said, as I felt a hand grab the waistband of my scrubs from behind, “We’re just gonna have to find out for ourselves!"

AGHH!

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thanks to J2 for the original torso-morph