Growing into the Job, Post 452: Gala, p10

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…

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