Post 190: New Website

This is so fucked up, Marisela Vazquez thought to herself, standing at her desk and looking over Melissa’s shoulder as they browsed through the new page designs for the practice’s website, How was I able to do all this?? In, like…two hours?!?

Marisela had spent the morning at her desk programming, writing code, and was now showing the results so far to her new Office Manager. She had always been pretty good with tech; it just sort of came naturally to her - just like her art, drawing, sketching, painting, sculpting. She’d just taken to it, since she was a kid. Web design had been a casual little hobby, and in fact she’d been the one who’d put together the site for Far Horizons a few years ago. But what she’d done this morning, after being asked by Melissa to work on the thing and add in pictures of all the new staff? It made her spine tingle.

It was really just over the last few nights that Marisela had begun glancing at her book on HTML6. If she was going to do this right she’d known she’d have to remake the entire site from scratch to get it up to current web standards. It was shocking how easily the new content came to her. She’d used premade templates before, and now this morning she’d found herself making embeds that she personally encoded for maximum streaming efficiency. She just somehow knew how to do…it all. Her fingers worked like virtuoso magic over the keys.

“I love how you arranged all the new pictures!” Melissa praised, turning to look up at her over her right shoulder with a secret, conspiratorial smile that - goddamnit why is this happening?? - made her heart flutter. Yes, she’d gotten a weird thrill from that, from feeling like she was quietly part of some “movement”, some covert revolution. She’d liked how she’d made his picture smaller than hers, how she’d surrounded him with his women.

“I, uh, still have a few girls to add in, once they get me their pics…” Marisela answered, eager from the praise, Ugh! What is wrong with me! she scolded herself. Marisela had always been a girl who prided herself on living a bit outside the mainstream, working and thinking to the beat of her own drum. Even being a bit surly: she embraced it. She’d been called “goth” and “e-girl”, “punk” “emo” and “scary” and all that - the jet black hair, the piercings, the dramatic eyeliner and tattoos - and had carefully cultivated the persona over the years. Not as much at work, of course - she couldn’t in a medical office -  but nonetheless she liked being different. But here she was, suddenly part of some hot-girl posse, finding herself buying new push-up bras and doing her dark lipstick in ways that she knew would draw his eye. Yuck, right?

right..?

She was changing, she knew it, they all were. Not just in their attitudes, either. For one thing - though weirdly no one was really talking about it yet - there seemed to be some sort of second puberty drifting through the office. The thought was repulsive, at first. I don’t need any more fucking cup sizes! she remembered thinking, already being naturally too busty for how thin she was. But there were other changes that came along with the new mommy-milkers as well or the extra inches some of them had seen on their hips and inseams. For example she would’ve never been able to design a website like this two months ago. Or, like, she was able to do things with the office’s networks that would have baffled her in the past. She felt, basically…smarter. And, also - her art, her sketching had improved. Even that balloon thing that she did. She hadn’t worked with balloons for years, since art school, and yet it was the biggest, best thing she’d ever made.

But, Marisela had to admit, these last couple of months - since the practice had begun to change as Melissa and her friends set up shop - had been good. They had been strangely…exciting. She wasn’t a fan, at first, of the new girls. These people were mostly morons, Melissa the worst of the bunch. As a medical practice the place was becoming pathetic, a hot mess. But, jesus. She found herself slowly coming around, seeing the potential for the shit they could accomplish…and make him miserable in the meantime, as a bonus. There were storm clouds gathering, building energy…

…and it all seemed centered around Melissa.

Good god look at her, Marisela marveled, as she watched her young Office Manager stretch her arms up above her head, Who the fuck is this superwoman?? Melissa’s jaw-dropping upper torso was on full display in a tight blue tank; her business jacket had been laid down off to the side. She was somehow both athletically muscular and perfectly, wasp-waistedly luscious, bosomy and built, at the same time. So tall, she was an insanely perfect specimen.

“The girls are going to love this..!” Melissa lauded, oblivious to Marisela’s reverential gaze and continuing to scan through the photos of the staff that she’d asked the girls to contribute, assembled, and sent on to Marisela. “They all look so pretty!”

Just then, on the desk, Melissa’s phone buzzed.

Marisela had to admit that - as she watched her big-haired, big-boobed boss pick up her phone to check the text - she was getting to enjoy Melissa’s company. As much as it pained her to acknowledge, she knew that being around her was making her a better person, or at least a better woman. Because ‘better person’ may have been a stretch, with the way she was feeling, the thoughts she was having towards him and men in general. Those sorts of thoughts made her feel fucking evil; they were not the musings of a ‘better person’. She’d always despised him, since his affairs with the other girls in the office, being a married man. And the way he looked at her at times? She’d always thought it was gross. But now, she didn’t quite exactly know how to put into words how she felt about him. Part of it was, yes, wanting to crush his fucking nuts. Like, literally. She wanted to crush his nuts, under her new thick-heeled Docs (size 9!). But she also wanted to, well -

“Oh, haha, sorry Marisela,” Melissa said, typing out the last of a text in reply, “That was Vida. Sounds like he’s not feeling well, still at the hospital on his rounds.” Marisela saw Melissa bite her lower lip, squirm a little in her seat. She seemed a bit taken, excited, trying to keep herself together and gather her feelings. “She’s going to go cover his patients there, but it sounds like…”

At that, Marisela watched Melissa shudder, and then smile in ill-contained rapture. She then quickly stood, picked up her suit jacket, checked for her car keys.

“I’ve gotta go get him,” she said, with barely contained enthusiasm and a sparkle in her eye, “…it sounds like he needs me.”

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Thanks to SaulJinzler for the boob morph in the image. Check out his DeviantArt, full of goodness here