Growing into the Job, Post 474: A New Valkyrie, Epilogue

Melissa’s new XX Behemoth was impossibly quiet for something so large, the workings of the electric motor just a low hum and its mighty wheels on the pavement sibilant. As we cruised down the road, its purr was admittedly soothing, but I couldn’t shake the feeling of how being in something so massive made me feel. The sheer size of her new SUV made everything else seem less significant, less real in comparison. And not just other cars, but the world around us - small houses, parked trucks, pedestrians darting like animals across streets - they all seemed to shrink under the presence of the gleaming, futuristic beast we were riding in.

My legs dangled helplessly from the edge of the seat, the cushion deep and soft enough beneath me to the point where the chair itself was swallowing me into itself. The car’s AI had raised me up a few inches so I could actually see out of the windows, but even then, my view was dominated by the massive dashboard ahead. The buttons and screens seemed far too large for someone like me.

It wasn’t just that I felt small in comparison to the vehicle, though - I was small. I was - what? - four-foot-six? I kept trying not to think about it, but despite my nearly superhuman powers of denial it was getting harder to ignore. I was an adult man sitting in the passenger seat of my girlfriend’s new car, and my feet didn’t even touch the floor. The harnesses strapped snug across my body made me feel less like a man and more like a child. And the fact that I had to be helped into the seat earlier? God, I could still feel the embarrassment burning at the back of my neck.

Melissa, meanwhile, sat beside me with her hands on the wheel, looking completely at ease, like she was born to drive this thing. She barely had to grip the steering wheel; it responded effortlessly to her touch, like it was an extension of her body. The car was so huge, but the way she handled it made it seem as if it were weightless. She was looking out her side window, probably at someone in a much smaller car aside her.

“I feel like a goddess up here!” she said, her voice filled with wonder.

I glanced over at her. She was grinning, her eyes wide and shining as she now surveyed the road ahead. In that moment, I had to admit - she looked the part, even in her casual, Saturday clothes. Her soft pink sweater clung to her jaw-dropping figure, stretched tightly enough that the outline of her bra showed through. Her gym-massive thighs and lower body filled the driver’s seat as if the car had been made just for her. The soaring space of the cabin to me may have been overwhelming, but the way she seemed to exist inside it so perfectly made me feel even smaller.

"Look at everything," she continued, shaking her head slightly in disbelief, "Everything looks so…tiny from up here." She gave a soft laugh, her voice drifting through the cavernous interior of the Behemoth. "Even the other cars - they look like toys, don’t they?" She didn’t wait for an answer from me, but just pressed the accelerator a little more, and the Behemoth responded with the same smooth, quiet power, effortlessly weaving between traffic. I barely felt the shift in speed. No jolt, no sudden jerk. Just smooth, almost weightless motion.

She was right. We towered over the other drivers. Even the trucks and SUVs that would’ve seemed large in any other situation looked like Matchbox cars compared to the Behemoth. It was as if the world outside had shrunk while we - or, rather, she and this massive monolith of a vehicle - remained full-sized. The thought unsettled me, and my eyes drifted to the rearview screen, where the outline of my own “new” car - the retrofitted, shrunken-down BMW - was visible inside the rear cabin, snugly tucked away in its berth. It was emasculating. Not only had I been reduced in size, but now I had a car that was a gift of generosity from my younger, ever-more-successful girlfriend, one that could be tucked away like an accessory when she needed. I know I should be grateful. Any car is better than no car at all, right? And the way my income had been neutered by my divorce, I hadn’t had anything looking like a car purchase on the horizon at all. But how could I ignore the gnawing feeling that something was off? And what does it say about you when your girlfriend’s car can carry yours like a load of groceries? I couldn’t shake the feeling that she knew that this wasn’t just a gift - it was a reminder of how much things had changed between us. And, of course, how much I had changed.

With the thought, a low sigh escaped me before I could stop it, but I quickly glanced at Melissa, hoping she hadn’t noticed. She had a way of reading me that was uncanny, and I wasn’t up for a conversation about it, not at the moment. Thankfully, she was too engrossed in her new toy, pointing out how effortlessly the Behemoth handled, how powerful it felt.

I stared at my feet, still dangling from the edge of the white leather seat, not even able to brush against the carpeting beneath them. I shifted uncomfortably in my harness, the snugness making me feel more confined than protected. I didn’t like admitting it, but the Valkyrie saleswomen might’ve had a point when they said I should ride in the back seat. At least back there, I wouldn’t feel so…out of place. I mean, this thing was massive! Ridiculously so! In it I felt so small, so unprotected. Was I even heavy enough to trigger the front-seat airbag?

"Everything feels so…different," Melissa mused as we stopped at a light. Her voice had taken on a different tone now, something almost reverent. “It’s like I’m not just driving a car. It’s like I’m…I dunno.” She was obviously wrestling with a thought, the gears of her mind - such as they were - turning. “Like I’ve risen above everything.”

I swallowed, my mouth dry. There it was again, that subtle shift in her demeanor and tone of voice. She was, yes, thinking that this wasn’t just a car. It was true - this thing was a literal behemoth. She was also, though, maybe thinking that she wasn’t just a person anymore. I’d heard her say it before, referring to others (such as myself) as ‘humans’. Her words still hung in the air, heavy and unsettling - chilling, even. The changes in her body, and the abilities she’d been discovering, were hard to explain through even the most advanced of physics, let alone normal human biology. Was she ascending into something else? Towering over the madding crowd of traffic as she was, with a deeper confidence having grown into her voice, she seemed to be considering the possibility.

I looked over at her again, and she caught me, she smiled. Her left hand rested easily on the steering wheel. She glanced down at me, and for a moment, I saw something in her eyes. A flicker of something that made me feel even smaller.

“Do you like it?” she asked, her tone strange but light, as if she hadn’t just hinted at something far deeper, asking about more than just my feelings for her new wheels.

I forced a smile. “Y-yeah. It’s…it’s amazing.” I was nodding but, deep down, I couldn’t shake the idea that something had again shifted between us. The Behemoth wasn’t just a car. It was a symbol of great power. Her power. A grown woman’s power. And she knew that I knew what I was. She knew that I realized that I was just…here, strapped in and along for the ride, with her behind the wheel.

The traffic ahead slowed, and Melissa instinctively eased off the accelerator, guiding the massive Behemoth towards a gradual stop. But then the car in front us - suddenly! - braked! Oh n-!

More abruptly than expected, our SUV jerked to a quick halt and Melissa’s right arm shot out towards me. The advanced AI braking system of the Behemoth handled it but still, the sudden stop was enough to send a light jolt through the cabin and without thinking, Melissa’s right arm had reacted, her hand landing firmly but gently across my chest, holding me in place against the back of my seat. She didn’t even glance my way at first - it was purely instinct, like a mom holding back a kid. Her palm, warm and steady, nearly spanned almost the whole width of my chest, and I felt the weight of it, protective, and...welcome. It gave me a funny feeling. Not just the gesture itself, but what it meant. That Melissa wasn’t just thinking of me in the way a girlfriend might. No, this was something reflexively deeper, and I shivered when I realized how much I needed her to think of me like that now.

“Oh my goodness, that was scary..!” she gasped. Her other hand was on her own chest, her big bosom, settling her breathing. 

After two deep breaths, the car at a stop, she turned her head and looked down at me. Concern had agitated her expression. “Are you okay, Jay?” she asked, her voice with an edge of worry. Her fingers gave the lightest pressure against me, like she was making sure I was still there.

I blinked, a little dazed but not hurt. “Y-yeah, I’m fine,” I mumbled, feeling the seat cradle me as traffic ahead of us started to move. I’m just...small. 

“Ok, whew.” She smiled, relieved, and took her hand away from my chest, but only to move it upward. Her palm slid over my shoulder, her fingertips grazing the side of my neck and then behind it, before she started stroking my nape. She looked ahead, and the Behemoth smoothly began to roll forward again.

“Hey, Car?” she addressed the AI, “check his harness.”

“Certainly,” it responded, verbally, the speakers of the car surrounding us with a voice that sounded like a measured, semi-vacant Melissa.

I felt the harness tighten around me, the seat become more plush.

Her hand - massive compared to my head - palmed my skull from behind, fingers brushing through my hair with easy strength, each pass comforting and soothing in a way that made me want to melt into my seat. My heart, still racing from the momentary jolt, now quickened for a different reason now. Her touch was so...gentle, when I let it be. So comforting. 

Instinctively, I nuzzled my head against her palm, trying to push back the uncomfortable thoughts. As if on its own, a little trill - a soft sigh, like a kitten’s - escaped my lips. The second I heard it, I froze.

Melissa let out a soft giggle, her fingers still moving through my hair and she glanced down at me for a second. “Oh gosh, Jay, come on,” she teased, her voice rich with amusement, “That’s not fair. You can’t be that adorable when I’m driving!”

My face flushed. I jerked my head away, my skin burning as I fidgeted in my seat. “S-sorry,” I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper as she drew her hand away, giving me my space. My face was probably bright red now, and I knew she could see it.

She laughed again, and the sound was warm, not mean-spirited. But I couldn’t help apologizing again anyway. It was a reflex, just like hers had been. I turned my head to the right, looked out the window, watched the world passing by. I thought a little bit about my life, my past.

“Honey, can I ask you something?” she asked me, after a bit. She could tell something was up with me, and suddenly I saw something was up with her, too. 

I turned back to her. She was glancing over her right shoulder to check if she could change lanes.

“S-sure..?” I answered. The twist of her torso was a miraculous thing to watch; her breasts were absolutely enormous.

“What are you thinking about right now?” She’d turned back, watching the road ahead of us.

Ugh. I hate that question. Always loaded, and with Melissa I felt like I needed to speak the truth. She was so good at reading me, and the last thing I wanted was for her to catch me in a lie. If I’m being frank, I had been thinking about how - as a child - I never had a chance to sit like this, being driven around by my mother. I never really knew my mother, and sometimes I imagined what little moments like this would have felt like if I had.

“I, um…”

She had turned now to look over her left shoulder. Again I took the opportunity to admire her figure. Fuck her tits are like three times the size of my head. She was again focused on the road. She was so beautiful, a sculptured, albeit top-heavy, living work of art. A wave of butterflies shivered through my belly and goddammit my cock was growing hard down my leg. 

“Are you looking at the size of my breasts?” she asked.

uurk.

“I, um-” I turned away. I tried to let the moment pass. 

On the road, Melissa had just pulled off the highway. I didn’t, actually, know where we were headed. We certainly weren’t going back to the office. Cars had slowed around her, backed off, backed away. She was in the travel lane, ruling over it.

“I think we have to talk about expectations,” she said, in a change of topic, the tone of her voice obviously deliberate. She wanted to be taken seriously. “You have a car, now. I’m happy to have been able to give you one.”

She paused, waiting for me to say something.

“Y-yes, thanks for that…” I said. 

She still waited.

“...Melissa.”

Her smile, as she watched the road, was tight but satisfied. “I love you,” she continued, “and I want you to feel like you can move from one place to another, sometimes, on your own. But I want us to agree on how you’re going to use it.” 

The car, her old BMW now retrofitted to an electric system and somehow resized to fit me, was admittedly an unexpected try from her to give me some independence. She’d even made sure it smelled like her so I could feel more at ease while alone, out of her presence. That had been a strange phenomenon, recently. If I wasn’t at the office, I had a weird stomach-thing that had started to happen, unless I was with her or one of the girls. Whatever it was in the perfume they were all wearing seemed to ease it, and my new car had the scent built into its AC unit. So, cool, I guess - I could drive by myself without puking, which is nice and made me feel a little less reliant on them for everything. Anyway, listening to what she was saying here, though, the gift of the car apparently came with some caveats. “Okayyy, rules…” I began, not really knowing what to say, “Um…”

“Yes, rules for you,” Melissa said, with a little shiver in her voice. She bit her lower lip. “We’ll be back staying at my mom’s place soon, honey, as soon as she’s back on the road,” Melissa continued. She’d obviously been thinking about this, and had a plan.”So, in case we’re not together, and I’m not driving you, or one of the girls, the car is JUST for you to drive to and from home, back and forth to work, okay sweetie?”

I nodded, feeling the bubble of my world, which had seemed to expand earlier today, close in a bit around me again.

“Do you understand?” she asked, plainly, glancing down at me and waiting for my response.

“I, uh…yeah,” I said. I mean, what else could I have said? It was a gift, and I needed to sound appreciative and not too greedy. 

She looked satisfied, her focus on the road again, out ahead of us. 

But still…

“What, though,” I began, “what if I want to run out and, like, do something?”

Seeing her brow furrow, I scrambled.

“Like,” I started again, “like what if I want to run out and get you…a present?”

That, of course, made her dimples crinkle. Her eyes twinkled.

“A present?” ” she asked, holding back a giggle, “Like, what?”

“Oh, like…uh…” I swallowed, trying to think fast. What could I say that would both charm her and play into the things she liked? Something fun, simple, that would make her laugh might win me a sliver of freedom. “Uh, well,” I started, offering a tentative smile, “I could run out and get you some…snacks?”

“I like snacks…” she smiled, “go on…”

“Your favorite snacks… like, maybe that brand of gummy bears you like? The sour ones? Or maybe that chocolate stuff yOU mix with peanut butter?”

Melissa's smile widened a little. She liked this idea; she also heard my voice crack. "Mmm, I do love those. Okay, snacks. Yes. But that’s not presents,” she said, like she was negotiating a deal, “Tell me about these presents?”

I felt a small rush of relief. I was on the right track. But what was I doing? Brokering the terms of my freedom with a twenty-something, candy as my currency? Why would a grown man have to do that? Well, it was easier than arguing. 

“Um, yeah, presents,” I began again. I was never good at buying gifts, but I needed ideas. “Maybe I could go pick up some…fun new nail polish for you? You’ve been talking with Randi about changing up your colors for the season, right? I bet I could find something you like.”

“You? Pick out nail polish?” she giggled, her eyebrows raised in suspicion. 

I let my eyes glance down at her hand resting on the steering wheel. “Sure,” I answered. The delicate yet strong fingers that could have easily wrapped around my entire wrist looked at home on the wheel. Her nails were currently French-manicured, long and strong. 

She giggled softly. “Aww, that's thoughtful, baby. You've been listening." She looked down at me again for a second, blessing me with a smile. I think she was beginning to delight in feeling like she was allowing me these small freedoms, like it emphasized her authority. She turned back to the road. "What else?”

I thought quickly, trying to maintain the momentum. “I could get you one of those big stuffed animals. You know, the ones that are, like, bigger than me."

She laughed at that, the sound brightening the air around us. “Bigger than you, huh? Like a big stuffed kitty cat? Or a big girl monkey?”

"Yeah," I grinned, encouraged by her reaction, “You could sit one in the back seat, and it could ride around with you when I'm not there."

“Or you could sit in its lap when we drive,” she giggled again, clearly enjoying the image. "What else, Jay-Jay?" she teased, reaching over to lay her right hand affectionately on my thigh.

I was starting to feel a bit more confident now, seeing how her mood was lifting. “I could surprise you with some bubble bath stuff – the kind that smells like, um, lavender and...cupcakes?”

“Oh my gosh, yes!" she laughed, her eyes sparkling now. The girl liked her gifts. And apparently bubble baths. "You're really getting the hang of this thing, aren't you?”

I smiled, a little more at ease, though the weight of the conversation still hung in the back of my mind. “See, there’s so much I could do for you. I’d just hop in my little car, run out, and bring it all back for you.”

“My little errand boy?”

“Your little…errand…boy,” I agreed. What had I just gotten myself into?

Melissa’s smile softened, and she gave me a knowing look. "Well, Jay-Jay, I do appreciate you wanting to spoil me. That’s really sweet of you."

I smiled back, hopeful.

“Sooooo...maybe, if you ask me really nicely, I might let you use it for little trips out, for me."

I blinked, my heart doing a quick flip. She saw how my small victory excited me. 

She smirked. “Remember, I said ‘maybe’. And only if you ask first. I want to know where you're going, and what you plan to do. No surprises, okay?”

She was worried about me, sure, yes, I could understand that. And again, I didn’t want to argue or look a gift horse in the mouth. But along with the gratitude and little surge of relief there came a twinge of… something else. Frustration? I wasn’t sure. But it didn’t matter. The important thing was that I hadn’t been completely boxed in. “Oh, of course! I’ll always ask first,” I found myself conceding.

Her smirk widened. “Good boy. Okay, so we’ve agreed. Just back-and-forth to work and when you have to go out and get me presents. Or snacks. Right?”

“How about if I want to go out and buy us dinner? How about that?”

She giggled. ”Okay okay fine that too,” she granted, but then seemed to rethink. “Well, maybe. But definitely back-and-forth to work, sometimes presents, and maybe if you wanna go out and buy me food.”

“How about flowers? Am I allowed to go out and buy you flowers?”

To that she laughed, and actually blushed. “Okay yes I love flowers. Flowers are fine too! So, presents, treats, back-and-forth to work, and flowers…and…what was the other thing?

“Dinner?”

“Yes…dinner. Maybe.”

“Okay cool, cool,” I agreed, and then remembered the one other use I really needed out of the car (or, wait, did I? I got a strange little pain in my head, a flash of light in my vision when I thought of it). Pushing my luck - and trying to ignore what might be the beginning of a migraine - I decided to ask. “I have that doctor's appointment early this week.” Rich had set it up for me, the visit to the Endocrinology clinic. “I’d like to, uh, go to it, myself?”

Just asking the question made the headache shoot through me again, a kaleidoscope swirling in my peripheral vision.

She glanced down at me, and I swear she not only saw the sudden pain in my head but seemed to know something about it that I didn’t. My request had also suddenly darkened her mood a little bit. Again, the caveats. “We’ll talk about it,” she said flatly. 

“Okay,” I complied, not ready to argue. 

She glanced back at the road, her eyes flashing something tenebrous, like she was reconsidering her generosity, or thinking of new rules. “I trust you to make the right decisions, Jay. But just remember…” Her tone grew softer again, “...I want to make sure you’re safe. I want to know where you are, always.” She squeezed my knee. “Understand?”

I nodded quickly, eager to encourage the tenderly protective side of her, rather than piss her off. I’d seen what she could do when she got, uh, worked up. “Y-yeah, totally. I’ll let you know…” I rethought my words. “or, uh, ask…if I ever need to go somewhere.”

“Exactly. That way, I won’t worry as much.” She looked down at me with a loving smile, and I could tell she was being sincere. “Though I always worry about you.” She wanted to protect me, to keep me safe. But still, the unspoken truth was clear: my world was now largely defined by her.

As I settled back into my seat, I could feel the bubble that had briefly expanded earlier closed in around me once more. And the more it closed in, the harder it was to remember what my world had looked like before her, or what I had been like before her. But this time, the bubble didn’t feel quite as confining, but soft and nice in its own way. My migraine prodrome had also passed. I told myself that this overprotectiveness was just Melissa’s way of showing me that she cared, and maybe it was just the reality of my new life if I wanted to be with her. I guessed I was going to have to get used to it.

Melissa turned the wheel confidently, pulling the massive XX Behemoth into the parking lot of a sleek, modern building. The bright sign overhead read ‘Empower Bank: Investments and Holdings”, its minimalist design exuding exclusivity and - this shouldn’t be a surprise any more - the “P” in “Empower” was designed to suggest a female symbol. The sight of it immediately made me feel smaller, and not just because of the oversized SUV we were in.

"What’s…this place?" I asked. I hadn’t even noticed it, but we’d pulled off the main road into a parking lot. I glanced up at the sleek glass facade of what looked like a bank.

“It’s a bank,” she answered, putting the Behemoth into park in a spot right outside the front door. Motor off, she unclipped herself from the seat. "I just have to run in and pick up something. Do you wanna come in?" she asked, turning to me with a smile that softened the question, "Or wait out here? I’ll just be a few minutes."

A knot of embarrassment formed in my throat at the thought of getting out of the car. Being seen like this - so small, almost childlike, in public - was the last thing I wanted. I glanced down at the seatbelts, still snug across my chest, and then back at her. “Uh…I’ll wait in the car, if that’s okay?”

She shrugged, not really fazed. “Okay! No problem.” She clicked open her door but before stepping out, she leaned in closer to the dash and said, “Car lady - keep Jay safe for me, okay?”

The AI’s calm voice responded instantly, “Certainly, Melissa.” As soon as the words left its, uh, mouth, I felt the harness around me tighten just slightly, drawing me deeper into the seat. The cushion beneath me shifted as well, molding to my shape in a way that felt almost too comfortable. My body was now cradled snugly by the seat’s soft material, making it impossible to move much without effort.

I gave a small grunt of surprise as I was drawn tighter into the seat. I looked over at her, my eyes widening. “What -?”

“Oh, and keep him entertained too!” Melissa added with a playful smile from outside the car, cutting me off.

“Understood,” the AI replied smoothly, its tone as neutral as ever. “How would you like me to entertain him?”

Melissa paused, shrugged again. “Hmm…I dunno. Whatever,” she replied, “Pictures of me?” 

She was joking, right?

Melissa giggled, blowing me a kiss. “Enjoy!” she called out, shutting the door behind her with a final, satisfying <thud> just as, without missing a beat, the AI responded - as if talking to itself - “Searching for images of Melissa Monroe.”

Something in the door clicked shut with a vault-like finality, and immediately, the seat seemed to mold itself even more enveloping around me. The AI was certainly keeping me "safe" - I couldn’t move an inch now, not even my arms, the harnesses holding me snugly in place. I watched through the front window as Melissa strutted toward the bank, her hips swaying with every step. And then-

A soft chime pulled my attention back to the screen in front of me. The display blinked to life, and to my utter disbelief, an image of Melissa appeared on the dashboard screen. But not just any image - an old modeling picture, one I had only seen in my, uh, research, back when I’d trolled for pictures of her online. She was standing on a beach, her hair loose and blowing in the wind, wearing a sporty bikini and holding a can of that energy drink she used to model for. The sun glistened off her skin, and though the figure back then was nothing like what it was now, and she appeared some years younger, that playful smile was undeniably hers. I blinked, stunned.

“W-where did you…?” I began, my voice trailing off.

“I have access to the internet,” the AI replied smoothly, as if this were the most natural thing in the world. It’s voice was, again, eerily like some cyber-Melissa…with a better vocabulary. And grammar. “I’ve found images from various sources, including Ms. Monroe’s public modeling portfolio, Instagram account, and recent television appearances.”

The screen flickered, and another image replaced the first - this time, it was a still from a recent interview she had done on the news, standing tall and in that plunging pink top. She looked authoritative, powerful and now blessed with her current, mind-bending figure. The contrast between the two images - beachside bombshell and cultural powerhouse - was jarring, yet it only amplified how dynamic she was.

I swallowed hard. The AI wasn’t done.

Next came a photo from her Instagram, a casual selfie she had posted recently, her hair pulled back into a ponytail, her workout clothes clinging to her body after what had clearly been an intense gym session. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes bright. Her musculature bulged powerfully. But still, there was that smile. 

Shit, I was hard again. 

My arms were pinned to my sides. 

The screen continued cycling through more images, one after another, each one showing a different facet of her life. Most I recognized, had seen before, but each more captivating than the last.

I found myself drawn in, my heart quickening as the photos flipped by. There was something almost hypnotic about it. I couldn’t tear my eyes away, even though I knew I should - this seemed voyeuristic. My heart raced, my breath shallow as I watched her, though, over and over again, her face, her body, her life on display in a way that felt both intimate and overwhelming. I let my jaw fall.

As picture of Melissa from in a Hooters uniform came onscreen, the AI chimed again. “It appears as if you find these images satisfactory, Jay-Jay?”

I blinked, pulling myself from the trance. Wait, what? It’s watching me?? My face flushed with sudden embarrassment. “N-no - ! -  I mean - yes - ! I mean…” I stammered, barely able to process what was happening. “Where did you get all of these??”

Wait - was that a heart rate monitor I just saw flash on one screen? Was the car also monitoring my pulse??

“I have access to a wide range of public databases,” the AI responded. “These images are publicly available through various online platforms.”

Suddenly, it was not just the single screen in front of me, but the entire panorama of dashboard, a whole row of screens, filled with different photos of her. Oh my god. 

I swallowed hard, feeling both awe and unease. I couldn’t look away so I just decided to…

The screens continued their slideshows, and despite the initial shock, I felt myself leaning back into the seat, the harness snugging me further into its embrace. The car was now actually showing me small clips alongside the still photos: videos from Channel Five, moments from her IG stories. The images of Melissa - her beauty and confidence - were entrancing. A nice scent filled my lungs. My mind honed in, but my body began to relax, lulled by the comforting hum of the Behemoth and the inescapable presence of Melissa, even when she wasn’t there.

How long was I there? Cradled by the car and agog at this animated portfolio of my girlfriend? I dunno - five minutes? At some point, I realized the air gently coming from the vents had begun to smell like her. I think I started to doze…

“I’m back!!” she announced, the car door opened and the screens faded out. She jumped up into the seat - this car, honestly, was big even for her - and looked at me. She tossed some paperwork, a few big, white envelopes, between the two front seats.  She giggled. “Did you guys have fun?”

I must have been quite the sight, all strapped in, enmushed into the plush leather of the seat, blinking myself awake. I think I’d drooled a bit, and I definitely had a boner. 

She eyed it, bit her lip, and struggled.

I watched as she gathered herself, leaned over, and rechecked my harness.

“Hmm. Y’know…” she said, tugging on the straps, “I hadn’t really thought about it, hun, but we probably should have you sit in the back from now on. I got the child’s seat option...”

“What, wait a child’s s-?””

“I mean it! Seatbelts in front seats aren’t really made for someone as small as you,” she said plainly, making her final check of my belt, “I’d hate it if something happened.”

My face was flush with new embarrassment. “I… I guess…”

“We’ll talk about it later. For today, I’ll still just drive slow.” She sat back up straight, turned the car on. 

“So, uh, what,” I began, as I tried to also breeze by the fact that I had just been outright ogling video footage and cheesecake pics of this gorgeous, overdeveloped woman now sitting in the car with me, “what was that all about, inside, on a Saturday?” Banks usually weren’t open on the weekends anymore. “And what’s ‘Empower Bank’?

The sign for this place, which I’d caught sight of earlier, was not one I’d recognized. This wasn’t a part of town I came to a lot, but I think there used to be a TD branch here. 

She turned the car on, checked the mirrors. Her tone was casual, but it sounded like she was reciting something she’d heard. “It’s a new bank, I guess, open just to women. You know, helping girls manage and grow their wealth.” She paused a sec, looked behind us, started pulling out. “Sheryl recommended it. I talked with a lady here last week, and had to pick up some stuff she’d prepared for me.”

The envelopes, I guess. 

I blinked, processing that. A bank for women only? The sign should have clued me in but still the idea hit me in the gut with a mixture of discomfort. Also, I admit, some admiration. “So, like, a financial advisor?”

“Yeah she’s really nice,” Melissa answered, “Kinda nerdy but I like her.” 

It was yet another reminder of the widening gulf between Melissa’s situation and mine. She’d been coming into more money than she was used to, and was looking for advice. I, on the other hand, had become all but destitute. My ‘wealth management’ had become ignoring my bills and arranging the change in my sock drawer. Even in my previous life, I didn’t know too much about investments; Sheryl usually handled that stuff for us. But I did understand a few things. “Don’t these places charge, like, fees?”

“Yeah, I guess, she talked about some sort of percentage, something they collect,” Melissa answered, as we pulled back out onto the road, “but it all goes to the, y’know...” At that she ran a hand under her big right breast, hiked it a bit, let it drop. “…the cause.”

Admittedly, I got distracted. My eyes were now planted on her tit. Why had she drawn my attention to it like that? It messed up my train of thought, if nothing else. “So, this bank is, like…working for…?” What? ’The Cause’? So a percentage of her earnings from her investments would be going towards the…women’s movement? But why had she presented her breast like that? 

“It’s all about the future. Empowering women to manage and grow their wealth so they can, you know, take care of everything.”

I stared at her breast. The Embosoming of the Planet. The Great Nipple. You really could see her bra through her sweater.

I’ll take care of everything.

It hit me then: she was talking about taking care of me. I was part of that “everything,” wasn’t I? She was seeing herself not only as the breadwinner but also the provider, the caretaker. She was already the larger-than-life figure in my world, but now she was stepping towards taking on a financial role I really hadn’t even considered. Were we going to be together, like that? We hadn’t really talked about it, but she seems to have started making decisions already. It was surreal, sitting there in her car while she talked about her financial advisor and the investments she was making, as if it was for my benefit too - but I had no part in the conversation. If we were going to be together, did I have any role in the direction of our future?

“I just want to make sure you have everything you need, Jay,” she continued, not even turning her head as she drove, but the warmth in her voice palpable and the monumental swell of her breast dominating my vision. “I mean, I’m starting to make serious money, and I want to grow it, to make sure we’re both secure, right? You know how hard I’ve been working lately. I don’t want you to ever worry about stuff like that again.”

My stomach knotted. She meant well. I knew she did. But the way she said it, with that combination of pride and certainty, it was like she was announcing that she was taking full control over my life, and whatever life we may have together. I swallowed hard, unsure of what to say. Her eyes flickered to the road ahead, shoulders relaxed as the Behemoth glided through traffic effortlessly, dwarfing every other car around us. I’m sure the AI was watching, listening.

“I’m…I’m glad you’re thinking about that,” I finally managed to say, though the words came out weaker than I’d intended. “But, like…doesn’t it, I dunno… feel strange? I mean, you making all these decisions for m-...” I stopped myself. “For…us?”

The question hung in the air for a second longer than I’d expected, and I felt my pulse quicken. Was I even allowed to ask that? Though I knew I’d maybe just misspoke, there was a dark thrill running through me at the same time - this realization that I, right now, might be giving up more of my autonomy, and talking about it with her. But that was part of what unsettled me, too, wasn’t it?

Melissa gave a small, almost imperceptible nod, her lips curling in a soft smile as if she understood exactly what I was feeling. “I get it, babe. I do. But you don’t have to worry. I’m making sure we’re taken care of.” She turned and glanced down at me for a split second before her gaze returned to the road. “I’ll make sure you have everything you need, okay?”

Her hand absentmindedly stroked down over her right breast, took hold of the hem and pulled taut for me the fabric of her sweater over her enormous tit. 

Fuck. Jesus. She’s huge. 

“Look, it’s different now, Jay. You know that. You’re not the same, and I’m not either. We’re on different paths, in our careers. But that’s okay. You can depend on me.” She pulled back her shoulders, subtly, pushing the monstrous swell forward; it seemed to grow, stretching her sweater even more tautly. “Just…let me do this for us.”

Her words washed over me, filling the cabin like the low hum of the Behemoth. I didn’t know how to respond, and anyway her boob had me speechless. My chest tightened as I thought about what she was really asking of me - was I really willing to give up this much control? But at the same time, there was that strange, comforting thought: she could take care of everything. I wouldn’t have to worry. I’d never be cold, or lonely, or hungry again. Maybe this isn’t so bad after all.

“You know women are making more than men, now, right? Families are depending on the mom, husbands on their wives,” she continued, her voice having dropped to a gentle tone that recalled an auntie speaking to a dim child, “So it’s not just us, baby. It’s just the way it’s happening in the world.”

I sighed, the conflicting emotions making it hard to think straight. My eyes trailed back down to her lap as she shifted in her seat, her back straight, her posture effortlessly commanding the space. She was so in control, so confident in every move she made. And here I was, sitting in the passenger seat, in her world, smaller, becoming ever more dependent. My eyes were pulled back up by the gravity of her jutting chest.

“Big, huh?” she asked.

That startled me. Fuck. My eyes shot forward, out the front window. Caught? “T-the car?”

“No, my chest,” she said plainly.

I shivered in embarrassment.

She chuckled. “Shhhh, it’s okay, really,” she said, “We’re talking about providing, and I know my boobs have always been, like, just that. My chest has been what got me jobs - like, this one.”

I tried to protest - no! Not tr-! But she kept talking right over me.

“And now as my body’s growing it’s getting me even more and more attention,” she continued, ”It’s going to start making me, us, more and more money.”

“M-Melissa, it’s not just that,” I tried to argue, to speak for her other, uh, qualities, “You’re also, uh-”

“Shh, it’s fine. I realize that it’s my chest, not my brain that’s going to be the provider for us,” she said, the tolerance in her voice frankly miraculous. “And that’s okay,” she said, now with a swelling sense of purpose, “because my chest is where my heart is.”

Lord, god, this woman. Did I deserve her?

“Do you trust me to take care of you?” she asked, as sincere and genuine as I’d ever heard her. I knew she was expecting the same out of me.

“I guess…I trust you,” I said softly, my voice barely audible over the gentle rumble of the road, and still reflecting my general apprehension. “You sound like you’ve got everything under control.”

She smiled at that, her fingers tightening briefly on the steering wheel as something shivered inside her. “Good,” she whispered, her tone honeyed with satisfaction. "I’ll always take care of you, Jay. In every…single…way."

I glanced back at the little car in the back berth, riding along inside a female. and the imagery was not lost on me. I looked back at Melissa, and again I couldn’t help myself. My eyes dropped to the side of her breast. I focused again at how the outline of her bra pushed through the thick, stretched fabric of her pink sweater. I traced its lines with my gaze, seeing how it met the wide straps which rode behind her back. I knew that whether I liked it or not, she meant every word she was saying.

“Looks like you need some boob time when we get back, hm?” she said.

I closed my eyes, trying to gather my pride, but found myself instead sitting back into the plush seat of the Behemoth and nodding.

I replied with exactly what she wanted to hear. “Yes please.”

=========================