Growing into the Job, Post 486: Lunch Meeting, p4

”M-Melissa..!” I blurted, finally being able to speak after watching what just happened to my girlfriend, sitting at lunch at a fancy Mediterranean restaurant after signing her new contract. I was ignoring the fact that she’d just made me come in my khakis under the table, with her foot, and I could feel the slime settling wetly on my thigh. “You just…g-g-grew!”

“Yeah, like, all in one burst!” she laughed, looking down at herself again and adjusting the v-neckline of her already too-tight pink top, “The last time I felt something like that was when they called me to tell me I was first hired…”

That would have been one of the old office girls, one of the ones that had left in protest. Some of them really didn’t like Melissa - or, me for hiring her, for that matter - and back in August, back when I was kinda the boss, a bunch of girls had quit. Weird but I could barely remember their names.

“Yeah in like five seconds I shot up like a half-inch, back then that day,” Melissa continued, blithely, like this was all the most normal thing in the world, “But right now - this was like twice that, which is - I dunno, a lot!”

Uh, an inch? I was about to offer, but then thought better of correcting her.

"I’m kidding..!,” she giggled, slapping my hand - which she held in hers - playfully, “I know two half-inches is an whole inch.” She watched me blush at the reproach. “I’m not that dumb haha!”

“Missy you grew more than just an inch there,” Randi interjected, still a little startled by what she’d just witnessed happening to her friend’s height…frame…bustline. “What the hell?”

“I’ve told you, I’ve told you both,” she said, breezily tossing behind her shoulder an enormous mane that somehow seemed even thicker and longer than it did just minutes ago, “My body changes when it needs to. When I have a new challenge, when I have a new job - like the one I just signed this huge juicy contract for - my body does what it needs. It, like, grows into it.”

Randi shook her head. I just sat there still stunned.

“And tell me, then,” Randi asked Melissa, her dry wit slowly returning, “why you need to be a giant to be the administrative director of a medical facility?”

“Haha I dunno!” Melissa laughed back, “Maybe my body knows something I don’t!”

And there it was. I was, no doubt, caught up in some weird sci-fi fantasy, some over-long faux-horror porn fic from some terrible pulp-smut writer. But this was my life, and I couldn’t deny that if this was some fantasy, it was one I’d pictured time and time again from the first throes of puberty: I had the world’s hottest girlfriend, an adoring, bosomy bombshell that grew ever more buxom and bodacious, ever more mommy-maternal for me, ever more superhuman heroine (or was it villainess…I wasn’t quite sure). Every day that went by there was just…more. More of her. 

And here she was, not content with the status quo of her risen superiority. Instead, she was doing all she could to increase her successes and dominance even more over we poor humans - especially me - by any means necessary. She claimed she had no control over how her body developed, but what was the real truth? Was she a witch? Was this witchcraft?? Aliens? Some advanced science way beyond what I thought was possible? Way beyond the laws of conventional physics? At this point, I was ready to believe anything. 

I had barely realized it, but the table was being cleared.

“Dessert?” our server asked. 

“YES!” both girls squealed in unison. 

I was still shaking, still battered by my anxieties and swimming in the shame of a sodden thigh as the two beauties looked over the newly-distributed dessert menus.  Each girl quickly settled on a slice of pistachio cake, told their order to our server, and as I was readjusting my cloth napkin over my lap Randi pushed the folder that apparently had some paperwork for me across the table. It had my name on it, in Sheryl’s distinctive handwriting.  

My turn, I guess. There’s no way this is going to be good. 

Melissa shot me a quick, playful glance, her smile wide and mischievous. “Don’t look so nervous, sweetie,” she teased. “This’ll be fun.”

“Yeah, don’t worry, Squirt,” Randi drawled, “I’m guessing you’re starting to realize that it’s nothing boring like another promotion, like Missy got.”

Melissa giggled.

Warily, I pulled the folder towards myself, and opened it. It was, yes, a contract. I’d feared as much.

“Would you like Randi to read it to you, sweetie?” Melissa cooed.

“No, I can, uh…” I answered, squinting at the text. Dammit…I am going to need reading glasses soon. “I think I can manage myself.”

As I read - I was right, this wasn’t good - the girls chatted. I felt, though, Melissa glancing across the table from time to time, down at me. Without even looking up I could tell there’d been a softening to her smile. It did little to help my growing unease.

First, I was losing my job at Far Horizons Medical Associates - my old practice, now almost entirely owned by my ex-wife Sheryl. My new employment agreement, I saw immediately, would be not with FHMA but rather with Far Horizons Global Evolutions, Melissa’s new employer and a company owned by some bigger, global player. FHMA would now be under administrative management of FHGE.

It looked to be a big change, the new job of mine, reflecting a transition to a mostly productivity-based compensation model. The tone of the contract, as I read on, was professional, but with subtle undertones that emphasized - beyond my patient care duties - a role as a supportive figure within the administrative structure. I would be seeing patients, yes, but the whole thing was a blatant reminder, in black and white, of how secondary my role would be in running how anything worked. Compared to Melissa’s meteoric rise at Global Evolutions, my career was now crawling in the mud, looking to get back to the ocean.

My unease grew as I read on. Like it was now, at FHMA, Olivia would be my direct “boss” in her position as Clinical Director - though usually in absentia, as she seemed to spend most of her time traveling. Otherwise the contract, while technically professional, made it clear that Melissa’s position in the administration - and by extension, her authority - would completely overshadow my own. The contract did describe some administrative duties but they were beyond meager, and I wondered if my leadership role would become purely symbolic, not even the figurehead I was now. Compared to Melissa’s sweeping control, I would be completely sidelined in this new office order. 

As I was reading, Melissa had leaned in and actually tried to pull the contract closer to herself, so she could read along. Petulantly, I pulled it back towards myself.

“Fine…” she pouted dramatically, crossing her arms under her big breasts with an exaggerated huff before giggling. “But make it quick! I want to see how much you’re gonna make!”

My salary? “It looks like I’ll get paid basically per patient,” I explained to Melissa, “with a base salary reflecting my ‘work in support of the Administrative Director’.”

She clapped her hands girlishly. “OOoooOooo I like the sound of that!” she laughed.

“And this says I have to report my productivity to the Administrative Director every week. That’s…that’s you right?”

“MmHmm!!” She sounded so excited.

”So I’ll be reporting…to you??”

”MMMHMM!!”

”I thought you said it’d be Olivia, not you that-“

”Sshhhh, relax,” Melissa said, trying to assuage me and sitting back a bit as the waitresses delivered her slice of cake, “it’s just for the business side of things. The medical stuff, the important stuff for you will still be m-...her. I’ll just need your numbers.”

I continued reading, and continued to get upset.

“I’ll be handling all the hard things you used to do,” she continued, as I secretly seethed, “overseeing banking, hiring, performance monitoring, uh…”

“...Community engagement, scheduling-” Randi offered, jumping in.

“Yeah, that way you can just concentrate on seeing your cute little patients, all the old people,” Melissa continued. She watched my face, probably how it was twitching. “I know it's hard these days, but I can take care of everything." 

"Let us do it. Let us take care of you," Randi purred, in an uncharacteristic tone.  

Melissa, in her most soothing of voices, continued, speaking to me as I read. “I know you’re under a lot of stress these days. This will be better. You’ll just be in charge of your own medical stuff, and me and the girls will take care of everything else. They’ll all report directly to me, I report to Sheryl…or Gianna, about the Evolution study stuff-”

That was still going to be going on, I guess.

“Plus, since I know you were, like, a little uncomfortable with our…relationship, taking it to the next level, letting it develop, while being my boss. This way technically-”

“I dunno I don’t know if this is a good idea,” I blurted, speaking quickly and without really thinking. My blood had risen to my face. “I really don’t know if I like this, this…contract. I might…”

“You might what..?” Melissa asked, cocking a sculpted eyebrow and leaning now towards me, across the table, an unmistakable change in the tone of her voice. Her titanic breasts first rested on the tabletop, then slowly spilled out forward, spreading across the space between us to conquer more and more of its real estate until they began devouring some of the paperwork. “What might you do?”

 "I…I…I-” I had nearly gagged, watching the ballooning of her breasts over her neckline. “I might have t-to-”

Could I bring myself to say it? I…I shouldn’t, I knew. Melissa would…she could…Randi, however, was right there to chime in.

“Yeah tell us, squirt,” she said, with a cruel twist to her smile, “or are you already too afraid to piss off the boss?”

That did it. 

“I might find another j-job?” I offered. 

Immediately, I could see it in Melissa’s eyes, which darkened, changed. Suddenly it was like there was another person in the room, and I knew I’d just made an enormous mistake. 

Uh oh.

“‘Find another job’??” Randi blurted, her smile growing to that of a jungle cat’s, “Wow, Missy, did you hear that?”

Hearing it spoken - had I just said that?!? - hit me like a lead weight in the stomach. That might have been the worst thing I have ever said. I stammered something else, incomprehensible; even I didn’t know what it was: an apology? But it was too late. 

“Ohhh, sweetie, okay, you want to find another job, because I’ll be the boss at this new one,? Melissa said to me, feigning an incredulous surprise, a distraught hurt. Her eyes had hardened, though, into deep green gems, beautiful but coldly intense. “But can you imagine? Can you imagine being someplace else? Someplace without me?” There was a new darkness to her voice, something unfamiliar and unhinged, and I have to admit it scared me.  

“n-no I m-“ I backpedaled, already knowing it was too late. 

I tried to continue, but some change in the air stopped me. The perfume that had wafted from her cleavage, across the paperwork and up into me, had suddenly disappeared.

“Just picture it, Jay…”

I drew in a breath, and it was empty of something. Suddenly, I felt sick.

She leaned in closer, watching my eyes tremble and water. I glanced down, into her breasts, and saw that they had eclipsed and smothered even more of my new contract. In a way it was not too unlike how she had begun to take control of the practice, of my life, and indeed the way women had begun to conquer mankind - with their soft, overwhelming weight. She squashed it. 

“Can you imagine working without me?” she asked, making my bones shiver in fear, “Just try to, Jay.”

I was suddenly cold, I was suddenly afraid. I was picturing what it would be like to be alone and I absolutely knew it. I knew I had no choice. I was trapped. I had no choice but to sign this thing.

Because I’d die without her.

“I…haha..I…” I managed, forcing a smile, “no…I can’t imagine.”

“That’s right. Good boy,” Melissa purred, though a brow of hers stayed cocked, her eyes remained stones.

“I’ll sign the contract,” I said. More than anything, in that moment, I didn’t want her unhappy. It had started to frighten me. 

“Very good boy,” she repeated, puckering up and blowing me a big, glossy kiss across the table as she sat back and lifted the heavy weight of her tits from my contract. “You’re learning. But, sweetie, tell me, how much is it? The, like, base salary part?”

“Oh, uh-” I began.

“Because, y’know, I was thinking,” she said, interrupting me, “I figured that if you didn’t make enough with, like, patients, I might give you a little secret salary.”

“Like…an allowance?” Randi snickered. She’d seen Melissa go through a dicey moment, and had now taken to eating her pistachio cake, watching us like this was great TV.

“Mmhm,” Melissa agreed, “An allowance.”

“M-Melissa I don’t need an al-”

“But how much is Sheryl saying they’ll pay you?” Melissa asked, looking down again at the contract on the table, this time not getting any argument from me as she pulled it a bit towards herself, looking down to see. 

“I, uh…I dunno,” I said, pushing it closer to her, turning the page to the salary part, “She left it blank. Like yours was.”

Randi, again, chimed in. “Yeah, Sheryl wants him to fill that in himself.”

“Myself?”

“Yourself.”

Melissa watched this exchange between Randi and I with a calculating eye. 

“I can choose what I want? My own salary?”

“You can choose what you want,” Randi confirmed, speaking plainly, “Your own salary.”

“Wow, sweetie, huh,” Melissa cooed, puckering her big, painted lips as if in thought, “That’s something, right? Being able to...decide that for yourself?”

“Yeah, I uh…” Wow, this was actually kind of confusing, and really weird.

“A big number would…make you more independent, wouldn’t it?” Melissa offered, plain as day, “ Able to, like, buy things for yourself?” 

“Yeah I g-guess…”

“And a small number would make you more, like…dependent, right?” she followed. Her tone was casual, but there was still something on edge behind her words. “More dependent on me for…like, our dates. Or…your food. Your clothes.”

“Yeah, I um…”

“I’d end up paying for a lot more, if that number’s really low, wouldn’t I?”

This was making me feel really weird.

“The lower it is, the more you’d need me.”

“y-y-yeah…”

Now it was Randi watching Melissa and I, coolly observant. 

Somehow I had the pen in my hand. How did that get there?

“You know what number you want to write in there, don’t you sweetie?” Melissa suggested. 

“Do it, Jay,” Randi said. She’d never called me ‘Jay’, before.

“Yeah, sweetie, do it,” Melissa urged, “Decide how much you want to need me. It’s your choice.”

That was all I needed. In the blank, on the contract, where my salary would be, I wrote in a number. My new salary. 

Zero.

I blinked. 

Looking at that number, at what it represented, my vision swam. The pen, suddenly, felt heavy in my hand. My head, it felt heavy on my shoulders. But…even weirder…

“Sign the contract now, Jay, make it official,” Melissa breathed. She’d already turned the page to where I needed to be, and the air between us crackled with a strange electricity.

…even weirder…

At the bottom of the contract - a line, my name typed beneath it. Was that a wisp of smoke coming from it, something pink?

So weird.

I signed my name. It was done. 

…even weirder, my feet felt suddenly small in my shoes.

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