Growing into the Job, Post 446

”We have been moving ourselves into the workplace, and you out of it,” Nancy Nunez was saying, speaking from her impromptu soapbox at the feet of the statue and in front of the reporters and news cameras of Channel 5, “enough that we already outnumber you in the workforce more than two to one…”

The city’s mayor-elect, a handsomely fit woman of dark caramel skin, had been asked how she might respond to the men who say women aren’t built to take on the responsibility of running society. She was not a tall woman but - for chrissakes, he thought - looked taller than he expected. Maybe that’s just my reduced stature or…<gulp>...maybe it’s something else at work. “We patrol nearly every street, teach nearly every child, and will soon govern not only this city but nearly every country,” she continued, “We operate every utility, we control your supply lines and we occupy most positions of real authority. You’ve already seen what we’re capable of. It should be obvious to you by now…”

With his newly delivered glass of warm milk in hand, Dr. J stood listening to her and was flanked from behind and on all sides by what was now a small crowd of his towering employees, new and old. Other women and other men listened, too. The outgoing mayor, Robert Petruzello, was standing in front of the crowd as well, though one step below Nunez on the platform that led up to the statue’s position. He looked marmalized, and not simply on account of his recent, humbling loss in the election - in which he was pulverized by her, really - but how she was humiliating him tonight. Nancy Nunez was - for the love of Pete, Dr. J lamented - proudly wearing a tiny replica of Mayor Petruzello, a ‘manikin’, in her freaking cleavage, for all the world to see. His crucifixion was complete, and he looked physically minimized, bewildered and clueless next to her prepossessed, strapping competence. Was he also, or any of the other men here, feeling the same icy dread from her speech that had crept into Dr. J’s bones?

Dr. J took a sip of his warm milk, which tasted strangely sweet. Lights around them flickered. Mayor-Elect Nunez continued.

“So, to my critics, or any critics of the Movement that claim that we are unprepared to lead, I say history has already proven you wrong,” she said. Even without the aid of a microphone, and even with the din of the gala and music of the string quartet, her voice carried powerfully enough for those gathered to easily hear. When “Mayor Bobby” tried to speak up, though, his voice was puny, and quickly quelled by Nunez’ hand to his shoulder. “Yes, this has been a concerted effort, a movement worldwide by women who want to make the world a better place. We’re doing it, and though we’re accomplishing what we want it hasn't been easy. But we’re doing all this hard work not only for ourselves, but for you,” she went on, still addressing any men listening to this impromptu address. Cameras had been rolling. “Despite what some may be saying, we do have your best interests in mind.” She looked out across the room, at the gathered women, but then in particular at the male faces in the crowd. Her eyes, in fact, for the briefest of moments, met Dr. J’s, and her plump, glossy lips nearly curled into hinting a smile. “If you, however incorrectly, consider this a conflict,” she concluded, back to addressing the masses, “then it is one which we have already won.”

More strange flickers, of the lights that lit the statue.

“All we want to do is to make you, the male race, happy,” came a sudden voice, close down to Dr. J’s left ear, causing Nunez’s speech to drift into a background drone for him. He turned his head, in sudden surprise, to see-

“E-Emily?” One of his recent young hires, Emily was on their “Planning and Development” team, if he remembered correctly (or knew what that even was). She was tight friends with-

“Sammi?” she continued, and suddenly her friend showed up at his other side, “Isn’t that right? We just want him to be happy?”

Sammi, the younger girl, giggled. Where Emily was thickly voluptuous and dark-haired, a year or two out of college, Sammi was thinner, lighter, and still in school. She was an intern here and-

“GAH!” he blurted, flinching away from her as she stuck her tongue deep into his right ear.

“‘H-H-HhhhaaaaaaaaAAPPpyyyyy…..’” Sammi breathed, and then giggled again, like a little maniac right into his brain. The spine-tingling force of her breath and then her laughter made his spine, uh…tingle, and his knees buckled as her mouth grabbed onto his entire ear. She muttered some words he didn’t understand and then “Nom nom nom…!” came the crackled thunder of her voice, and she giggled again. 

“Is it done?”

“Crikey that was easy,” Sammi answered, turning his head to look in his now swirling eyes, “Done? He bloody well is.”

“Then, girlfriend, grab him and let’s go, Bianca’s obfuscation isn’t going to last forever,”  Emily said. At that, Sammi and Emily each took him under an arm and stood him up - he’d started to collapse, with legs of jelly - and after losing himself completely for a moment finally had the wherewithal to look around. The two girls were in white dresses, matching shoes and Sammi’s light brown hair was run through with shocks of silver. Other women around him - Randi, Katie, Josie and the others - meanwhile stood strangely motionless, listening to the mayor-elect, and hadn’t passed him a glance. They looked glossy-eyed, as if unnaturally enraptured in the speech…or under some other sort of spell.

“Okayyy…” Sammi agreed, her voice a weirdling warble, “Let’s go see mommmmy…”

His own head, too, didn’t seem right, the world swimming in a fog ever since Sammi’s tongue had driven itself into his ear. He’d also managed to have lost control of my body. If it weren’t for the support of the two young women carrying him back through the crowd and now off towards one of the corridors that led out of the atrium, he would be fully collapsed. People stepped aside for them, allowing them to pass, but strangely didn’t even give them the briefest of looks. Music and the voices of women filled everything but became quieter as Emily touched a keypad and a previously shut, locked door of smoky glass slid open and the three went inside. The door sealed solidly behind them. They went down the corridor, the main hallway of the new, restricted wing that Evolution would be using for the study, for office space, and for other unspoken purposes. The two women and their charge rounded a corner, to come finally to where they had been told to bring him, a small waiting area in one of the new wings. The walls and benches here were of a beautiful, natural stone. A small water fixture gurgled among carefully arranged rocks. Lights hadn’t been turned on in the offices and chambers around them. 

Strange, he thought at first, even through his haze, seeing Bianca - the other member of this triumvirate of friends - from behind knelt down in supplication at the feet of-

“O-Olivia??” he stammered. 

At their appearance Bianca stood - up, and up, and up - immediately turning towards the three new arrivals and stepping back to stand at Olivia’s side, into semi-shadow. She seemed huge. Both women regarded him, the small male in their presence. ..

“Surprised to see me?” Olivia purred. She was a recent friend of his ex-wife Sheryl’s, recently picked by her as the erstwhile medical director to oversee clinical care (and him) here at Far Horizons. She was a physician herself to boot, nearly six feet tall with the body of a brickhouse, and a long time wank fantasy of his. With her in absentia on some sort of travel, this was the first he’d seen of her in weeks. The time away had, uh, treated her well. Again, maybe it was his new (lack of) height throwing off his perspective, but Olivia seemed larger, stronger , curvier and more alive than ever - even alongside the arcane Amazon that was Bianca. Both women, like Emily and Sammi, wore white. Olivia eyed the glass of milk he held forgotten in his hand. “How’s your drink?”

He tried to stammer a response, but it was as if he had something in his mouth. Like slugs. That was Sammi’s doing; she’d read it in a book as a child and the idea amused her. 

Alongside Olivia the third member of her triumvirate, Bianca, standing proud as the tallest of them all, red-haired like Olivia and built like a wet dream. Tonight she looked larger than ever. To Dr. J there had always been something predatory and fierce about this young woman. The glare she was giving made him shiver, and she took another step back into the shadows as Olivia began to speak:

”I wanted to talk to you, Jay, before Melissa arrives and…consumes all your attention.” 

Emily draped her arm over his shoulder and pulled him against her. Numbly, he felt his cheek sink into her bare, perfectly soft shoulder. She smelled of daisies, summertime in a sunlit field.

Olivia cocked her head, giving him an affectionate smile. She saw he struggled to speak, and considered her best approach. She was not officially the lead for the Far Horizons project, but the ultimate rollout of the Product she had (in more ways than one) birthed was in many ways hinged on its success. Melissa had been placed here for a purpose, and for the most part was serving it well. What hadn’t been anticipated was how deeply Melissa would feel for the target they had provided for her….this little man that stood before Olivia now. They had been confident that he would be enraptured, spellbound, intoxicated by Melissa and her charms; in that regard they had been proven right. Melissa’s emotional reaction, however - some would call it “love” - had not been anticipated, and it was becoming problematic. Olivia was not here on-site for long as responsibilities would have her traveling again in just several days' time, but while she was she knew she needed to do all she could to derail this “love affair” between Melissa and the male.

“All women want is for you to be happy,” she began with the sweetest of smiles, repeating the sentiment that Emily had offered him earlier, “And, does Melissa make you happy?”

Melissa? he found himself thinking, Where is Melissa?? I need her. I’m getting a little….scared.

“Y-yes…” he somehow answered. She does make me happy. Why was his head spinning so much?

“And, the other girls,” Olivia continued, “All these beautiful young women that you’ve surrounded yourself with here…” At that, she gestured to her three vassals, each of whom purred and posed - or, perhaps, prowled and poised. She was indicating them, but was referring to the entirety of his female staff, this ever-growing sea of women he’d been swimming in over the past few months. “Do they make you happy?”

“Y-yes,” he replied, mostly without thinking, as he pictured Lakshmi and Josie and Randi and…and…they are all looking out for me, aren’t they? Doesn’t that make me happy? Lexi and Katie and Morgan…there’s been so much sex. And now, with the newest hires, their numbers had more than doubled. 

“But still, though, Jay, you don’t seem happy enough,” Olivia continued indulgently, a strange lilt to her voice that he hadn’t heard before, “How many girls, Jay, would it take to make you…really happy?”

“W-w-whu..whut?” he stammered, confused.

Olivia chuckled, and considered what she could do, with the new army of Program girls at her disposal here. She could - at her command - absolutely smother him in women if she wanted. He’d never come up for air again. That, though, might not be the prudent move, especially knowing how Melissa would react, and what she could do. “I think,” she began again, “I think that you are a man. You may be well intentioned, you might even be foolish enough to think yourself virtuous, but we both know, and of course so does Sheryl, what it is you really want.”

At the sound of his (ex)wife's name coming from her friend’s lips, he felt something inside begin to bristle, egged on by what he saw now as Olivia’s duplicitous gaze. Despite his condition, compromised by whatever they’d snuck into his milk, he felt the urge to say something.

“O-Olivia you and I b-both kn-”

Before he could finish his thought, however, something warm and wet met his lips.

“Sounds like you need more of this,” Emily said. 

“Uuurhk!”

“I’m afraid now isn't the time for argument,” Olivia said, calmly, “Why don't you just relax and drink your milk?”

Emily’s hand had grasped the back of his head, force-feeding him the contents of his tumbler glass and at the same time her voice - deep, unnaturally so - commanded him to ‘DRiiiiinkkKK…’. The strength of her body and the strength of her will left him no other option but to stand and take a gulp.

Whatever it was that they’d prepared and had the bartender slip into the milk, it worked.

“That’s it, good boy,” Olivia praised, watching his eyes, glaze again, “Now, as I was saying, you are a man, and, as such, you just can't help yourself. You are a slave to your urges, and that awful thing dangling between your legs. You may have wanted to be faithful to Sheryl, but, in the end, you couldn't help but stray. Again…and again…and again. Could you?”

He gurgled, swallowing.

“So, I'm going to ask you again, how many girls will it take to make you happy?”

“M-Melissssa….” he moaned.

“You love Melissa, you say,” Olivia continued, the first hints of annoyance creeping into her words, “But what, really, is it that you love? She’s a moron, Jay. You and she have nothing in common. It’s not her that you ‘love’. You’re just…fixated on her. You’re obsessed with her breasts, her giant ass, the strength and hugeness to her that makes your whole body tingle. She is the perfect female specimen for you, isn’t she? The…the ‘Hooters girl to end all Hooters girls’, hm? The woman of your very wettest dreams? Think about it. What you feel for her isn’t love, Jay. It never was.”

His mind was reeling, conflicted, her words cutting deeper than they had any right to. What was this woman saying? What does she know about…about..?

“All the times she's sucked you, all the times she’s fucked you, smothered you in all that ungodly, physical pleasure. That's what you really want from her isn’t it?”

He tried not to whimper. Emily had taken away the dregs of his milk and he stared into Olivia's green eyes and felt himself ominously beginning to twitch.

“But, Jay, how important, really, is it that it’s her?” Olivia continued, seeing now how her words were wrapping themselves like a serpent around his frontal lobe, “You have all these girls, little man, all these girls growing stronger and bigger and more beautiful around you. Your whole world is turning into women for you. And that’s what you really want, isn’t it, Jay? To be smothered in a world of women?”

Sammi had crouched alongside him, like a cat, and started rubbing his thighs as Olivia continued. Her head of hair sparkled.

“Melissa is just one girl,” she purred, “but we’re all here, Jay, all of us. All of us growing and growing and growing. In size-“

Emily squashed what felt to be a mammoth right breast against his left shoulder. Behind Olivia Bianca stood taller, looming enormous. 

“In strength…”

Sammi’s clawed hands clasped his thighs like iron. Bianca’s neck and shoulders flexed in a display of previously hidden brawn. Emily's bosomy embrace became like a vice around his left side. 

“In influence...”

It was now Emily’s voice in his ear, his left, muttering strange words in a strange tongue. Images flew through his mind, images of women stepping on defeated men, leading great armies, high heeled feet crushing entire buildings, felling skyscrapers. 

<zzzzip>

Sammi’s fingers had let down his zipper. 

This is not right, he told himself, he knew. He’d enjoyed the affections of other women, of Melissa’s friends, countless times over these past two months. It was all with her blessing, though; strange as it sounded they were a shared, sharing family, she had said it herself. What was happening here, though - Emily’s bosom slowly swallowing his body, Sammi’s fingers now fishing him from his fly, Bianca fixing him with a glare that held promises of violence and violent rapture - this didn’t seem right. Something else was at work here. He had lived years of infidelity to Sheryl - Deanna, Rina, and finally Melissa - and he had paid the price. He’d had his comeuppance, but was now moving on. He was trying to build a new life with the woman he - yes, despite what Olivia said, he convinced himself - loved. She was generous, Melissa was generous with him and her friends and their love.

Loved, right? It is love, isn’t it?

Suddenly, he was unsure. This, though, what was right now happening in this secret antechamber of some clandestine coven, seemed like infidelity to Melissa. 

“You don’t need Melissa…” the three girls all said in unison. 

Sammi was widening her jaw, opening her throat; somehow her hair had gone completely silver. Olivia's voice joined the three.

“…Mommy’s already here.”

No. 

“N-no..!”

He broke away, he broke back. His dick yanked and slid out of Sammi’s hand, his torso extricated from Emily’s bosom. Bianca began to take a step forward, but was stayed by a hand from Olivia. 

“Let him go…” Olivia said, as she watched him stumble away from them. He almost almost fell, and her smile curled darkly as he turned to run. “We’ve done what we needed to.”

The seed is planted. 

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thanks to RiF for upscaling my original atrium image, and thanks thanks Olo for the Olivia image, and GBHMax for his help bringing in Bianca.