The list of unsettling headlines on my phone screen swam before my eyes; some of the articles I started, some I skimmed, but most I couldn’t bring myself to really read. I couldn’t even pick one to just focus on; they all blended into a kaleidoscope of weirdness. My head was starting to hurt. This world I was living in…what even was it anymore? The phone felt heavy in my hands, like it was tied to the weight in my chest.
“Sweetie?” Melissa’s voice pulled me back. I blinked, my fingers freezing mid-scroll as I looked up. We were in my little apartment, and she was standing over me now, her tanned legs impossibly long and strong from my perspective on the couch. She tilted her head, her waves of dark hair cascading down one shoulder, and I could see concern in her golden-green eyes. Concern - and maybe just a little amusement.
“You okay? You’ve been sitting there looking like someone just canceled all the superhero movies or something,” she teased lightly, folding her arms under her newly even-more massive chest. She’d grown so much bigger today but seemed to have already settled perfectly into her new size. Her teasing smile softened, though, as her gaze searched mine. “What’s wrong, baby?”
“I…I don’t know,” I admitted, fumbling to lock my phone and set it down beside me. “It’s just…everything. Everything feels so weird. All this stuff happening in the world. And me. And…us.”
Melissa sighed, shaking her head with a wry smile as she sat down beside me. The couch groaned under her weight, and I couldn’t help but feel it tilt slightly toward her side. “’Us’ is fine, Jay,” she said, brushing a hand through my hair and letting her fingertips graze my scalp. “You’re fine. We’re fine. You’re just overthinking again.”
“I don’t know…maybe I am,” I muttered, my voice trailing off as I shivered under the touch of her hands - strong and perfectly manicured, yet gentle in their movements. Though Melissa was no giant in the IQ department, she was a preternaturally sensitive person and emotionally intelligent to a fault, and I knew that listening to her in times like this was important. She sometimes seemed to know me better than I knew myself. “I just…don’t know where I fit into all of this anymore. Into this world.”
Melissa frowned slightly, her brows knitting together. She crouched down so she could grab my hand, enveloping it in hers. “Hey,” she said firmly, squeezing, “You do fit. You fit right next to me. And I won’t let this world take you away from me.. Not ever, no matter how small you get. You’re mine.”
Her words sent another shiver through me, but before I could respond, she shifted gears, her tone growing lighter. “Actually…” She hesitated for just a second before continuing. “There’s something I wanted to talk to you about. Something that might help you, y’know, feel like you’re contributing again.”
I looked up at her, confused. Did she already think I wasn’t contributing? “What do you mean?”
“Well…” She bit her lip, her dimples deepening as a nervous smile spread across her face. “Do you know Lucia Antonucci? The carrier dress model?”
“Ummm…” I started, images of the bosomy blonde Italian leaping into my mind. I had to pretend ignorance, though. The woman was someone whose, uh, online presence I’d, uh, admired…more than just a couple times. Before I’d met Melissa, of course.
Melissa just pressed on. “She’s worked with a lot of designers, worn their stuff, basically she’s now the face of the whole trend. She’s gotten really famous. Anyway, she, like, reached out. Well, her team did,” Melissa said, her voice picking up a note of excitement, “They’re starting a new clothing line, and they want you to be part of it. Give you a job.”
“Wait…me?” I blinked, leaning back against the couch. “Why would they want me?”
Melissa laughed softly, giving my hand another squeeze. “Maybe because you’re adorable, Jay. And you’re smart, and people like you.”
And because you’re my girlfriend, I couldn’t help but think, and because I’m becoming a midget.
Her grin turned playful as she tapped a finger on my nose, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that - sensitive as she was - she could read my mind. “Don’t you think it’s time you start putting those things to good use?” she giggled.
I didn’t know what to say. I opened my mouth, then closed it again, my thoughts spinning. Why me? Is this some kind of joke? And yet…there was a flicker of something I was feeling that I couldn't deny - hope? Pride? I wasn’t sure. But deep inside me the thought stirred that someone might be seeing me as valuable, as capable, as…something more than just a washed up physician, Sheryl St. Clair’s ex…or Melissa Monroe’s little man.
She watched me closely, her gemstone eyes glinting with encouragement. “I haven’t said anything to them yet,” she added quickly, “I wanted to, like, talk to you about it first. But I really think this could be good for you, sweetie. Something you can do for yourself…maybe for us.”
The warmth in her voice wrapped around me like a blanket, and for the first time in what felt like hours, the tension in my chest began to ease. “I…I don’t know,” I said finally, my voice barely above a whisper. “What would I even do? I don’t know anything about clothes, or fashion, or-”
“I don’t know, she didn’t really say,” Melissa smiled, leaning in so that her face was just inches from mine. “But don’t worry about the details right now,” she said softly, “we’ll figure it out together. All I want is for you to think about it. For me. Okay?”
I nodded slowly, the weight of her gaze - and what she had told me - pressing down on me. I paused for a moment, then a moment longer, thinking. Considering. “Okay,” I said, finally.
“Okay, like I can set up a meeting for us?”
“Uh, well, let me think a bit more,” I answered, though I wasn’t entirely sure what I was considering agreeing to.
Melissa’s smile widened, and she pressed a quick kiss to my forehead before standing up again. “Whatever you want, sweetie,” she said warmly. “Now, let me get back to my new mountain of shoes…”
She turned on her heel, the hem of her pink T-shirt swishing over her butt as she stepped back toward the pile of shoeboxes. Her hips swayed in that effortless, natural way of hers, her enormous, heart-shaped rear suddenly commanding every ounce of my attention. I couldn't help it; my eyes were glued to her as she moved, the taut fabric of her white panties hugging her curves perfectly, trying to contain the soft, mesmerizing jiggles that came with her every step. The late afternoon light streamed through the window, glinting off the glossy waves of her hair and casting a golden glow on her tanned legs, long and shapely like they went on forever. Even just watching her walk across the room felt like some kind of spell, her presence overwhelming and magnetic, utterly captivating.
Melissa paused in front of the shoeboxes, bending slightly at the waist as she reached down to pick up one of the unopened boxes. Her shirt rode up just enough to reveal a teasing glimpse of her lower back, smooth and toned. I should have been focused on the opportunity she'd just mentioned, but my thoughts were now stuck in a loop, marveling at her body.
And yet, somewhere beneath all that distraction, something else stirred - a flicker of excitement. Maybe it was silly but the idea of being wanted by someone else - by someone as successful and famous as Lucia Antonucci - was enough to cut through the haze of self-doubt that had weighed me down all day. It didn't even matter why they wanted me; it was enough that they did. Unusual for these past couple of months I felt…seen. Valued. And that sense of empowerment was enough to push me over the edge.
"I'll do it," | blurted out, the words escaping my mouth before I even realized I was speaking.
Melissa froze mid-reach, her head snapping up as she turned back toward me. Her gemstone eyes widened in surprise, and a slow, delighted smile spread across her face. "You will?" she asked, her voice rising with excitement, “Really?”
"Yeah," I said, sitting up straighter on the couch. My hands fidgeted nervously in my lap, but I nodded firmly. "Set up the meeting, I guess."
For a split second, Melissa just stared at me, as if she couldn't quite believe what she'd heard. Then, suddenly, she let out a delighted squeal, clapping her hands together like a kid told they’d be getting a new toy.
"Omig-d, Jay! Yes!" she exclaimed, her voice high and bubbly with excitement as she started jumping up and down, her feet bouncing on the carpet as her body filled with infectious energy. Her long legs flexed and extended, her toned calves and thighs powering each leap. The motion sent her chest bouncing in tandem, the snug pink T-shirt doing little to contain the overwhelming softness of her curves. Her hair flew around her shoulders, catching the light in a halo of gold and brown, and her giggles filled the room, bright and musical, full of unfiltered joy. Jesus, this woman’s emotions were like a force of nature, and I was temporarily dazzled, overwhelmed as I tried to absorb them.
"I knew you'd do it!" she chirped, beaming as she bounced one last time before running toward me in an excited rush. Her bare feet shook the floor as she closed the distance between us with every step, her body a staggering spectacle of jiggles.
When she crouched down in front of me again, her face was radiant, her dimples deep and her eyes sparkling like precious stones. Her enthusiasm was so overwhelming it was almost hard to look directly at her, like staring into the sun. The way the light caught on her skin, the natural blush in her cheeks, the fullness of her lips curved into that dazzling smile - it was breathtaking, all of it. She leaned forward just slightly, her hands bracing on her thighs, and I could feel the heat of her presence, the air between us charged with her joy.
She saw right away the effect she was having on me, and her eyes flashed with something dark. But then she pulled it back.
"Jay," she said softly, her voice still brimming with excitement but now leaning into her words with something gentler, more intimate, "this is going to be good for you. I just know it.”
I, uh…yeah,” I agreed, trying my best to pull myself back together, steady my breath, “I…um…”
“It’ll be exciting, fun,” Melissa continued, still softly but now a hint of edge coming back to her voice, glinting in her eyes, “but even though she may end up paying you for something, we both know who’s really your boss though right?”
“R-r-right…” I answered, still caught up a bit in her enthusiasm and not really thinking. In fact, I even chuckled a bit.” …you’re the boss.”
Melissa leaned in closer, and her excitement softened into something…deeper. Her eyes - those stunning green and gold eyes - locked onto mine, and I felt like she was looking straight through me. She’d always had this way of making me feel exposed, like she could see things I wasn’t even ready to admit to myself.
“You know,” she said, her voice even warmer now, “we’ve been so busy today, I don’t think I’ve even asked you how you feel about…well, everything. Everything that happened at lunch.”
I blinked, caught off guard by the shift in her tone. I’d been so distracted by her energy, her body, her presence that I hadn’t even thought about how I might respond to a question like that. I looked down at my phone, grabbing it from beside me, desperate for something to focus on. But before I could even think about pretending I hadn’t heard her, she plucked it right out of my hands.
“Hey-” I started, but she just set it down on the table beside us and leaned in even closer.
“Come on, Jay,” she urged softly, her tone coaxing, like she was trying to get a kid to admit he’d done something wrong. “We signed these huge, life-changing contracts today. You’re starting a brand-new job tomorrow, and I just got promoted to…” She paused, her lips curling into that dimpled smile of hers, the kind that could light up a room, maybe power small cities. “...to a lot. I know it’s a big change for me, so I can only imagine what it’s like for you. I want to know what’s going on….deep in that little head of yours.”
My throat felt tight. I shifted uncomfortably on the couch, my hands twitching in my lap. “I…uh…” God, how was I supposed to put this into words?
Her gaze stayed steady, calm, patient. She wasn’t going to let me off the hook, was she?
“I guess…” I started slowly, my voice barely above a mumble, “I guess I feel…proud of you. I mean, it’s amazing, what you’ve achieved. You deserve it, Melissa. You’ve worked so hard, and now you’re…you’re….”
I couldn’t finish. I didn’t know what I wanted to say. She had worked hard, I guess. She wasn’t the brightest woman, and maybe this position would be too much for her, but she seemed to have a way to make things work. So…
I glanced up at her briefly, but her eyes didn’t waver. That steady, unrelenting gaze was too much, so I looked away again, down at my hands. “I’m happy for you. Really, I am. I want you to succeed.”
There. I said it. It wasn’t a lie; I was happy for her. But the words felt…incomplete, like they weren’t telling the whole story.
Melissa tilted her head slightly, studying me. I could feel her watching me, like she was waiting for me to say the things I didn’t want to say.
“But…?” she prompted, her voice soft but insistent.
I winced. She knew. Somehow, she always knew.
“But…” I sighed, my shoulders sagging as I stared down at the floor. “It’s just…hard. You know? Knowing that your job is so much more important than mine now. That you’re making all this money, have all this responsibility. And now, I…I guess I kind of…” My voice trailed off, the words sticking in my throat.
“Kind of what?” she asked, her tone gentle but her words cutting through me like a blade.
I swallowed hard. “I guess I kind of feel like I’m working…for you now,” I admitted, my voice barely a whisper.
The silence that followed was unbearable. I could feel her eyes on me, weighing me, and I couldn’t bring myself to look at her. I felt so…small.
“Jay…” she said finally, her voice low and steady. I braced myself, waiting for her to tell me how ridiculous I was being, how ungrateful. But when I looked up, her expression wasn’t angry or annoyed. It was…understanding.
“I get it,” she said softly, leaning back a little to give me some space. Her arms folded across her chest, and her face was thoughtful, serious. “This…shift in our relationship, in our roles - it’s, like, a lot to handle. I get that. But you have to understand something...”
She leaned forward again, her eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that made my chest tighten. “I’m not doing any of this to make you feel small or inadequate. I’m doing this for us. For our future. I know things are changing, and maybe it’s scary, but…” She reached out, placing her hand on my knee. Her touch was warm, firm, grounding. “I need to know that you’re with me on this. That you trust me to take care of us. Because I will, Jay. I promise you, I will.”
Her words hit me like a tidal wave. I wanted to believe her - I did believe her - but there was still this nagging voice in the back of my mind, whispering that I was less of a man now. That I was failing someone. Was it her? Was it myself?.
“I do trust you,” I said, my voice thick with emotion. “I just…I guess I need some time to adjust to all of this.”
Melissa nodded, her expression softening into that radiant smile that made my heart groan. “That’s okay,” she said, her voice soothing, “take all the time you need. But just remember…” She leaned in, her lips brushing against my forehead in a tender <mwah> kiss. “No matter what, you’re still my Jay-Jay. And I’m not going anywhere.”
Her words settled over me like a warm blanket, wrapping me in a sense of comfort I hadn’t realized I needed. I let out a shaky breath, my shoulders relaxing for the first time all day.
As she pulled back, her smile widened, her dimples deepening. She was so beautiful, so strong, and so…Melissa. How could I not trust her?
“Ok mama,” I said, hearing myself use the playful term of endearment and immediately regretting it…or maybe not, “You’re the best…I’m so lucky I have you.”
Melissa’s mood shifted almost instantly, her smile doubling in size as her eyes flashed. She liked that, I noted, and watched as she seemed to bathe in the honeyed accolade and build energy from it. Then, though, her grin turned mischievous as she sat back on her heels, hands planted on her thighs. Her eyes sparkled with the kind of lighthearted magic that only she could bring into the room.
“Soooooo,” she started, drawing the word out with a teasing lilt, “now that we’re all good and you’ve admitted how amazing I am, let’s talk about how much more money I’m making than you.”
I blinked. “Melissa…”
“What?” she giggled, covering her mouth with her hand, though the effort to suppress her amusement was clearly failing. “I mean, it’s true! I’m bringing in the big bucks now, baby. I’m like a big, tall, lady…what do you call it? A breadwinner!”
“Yeah yeah yeah…’breadwinner’,” I admitted, remembering the enormous number I’d been compelled to pen into her new contract earlier today, “You’ll be able to buy the whole bakery…”
“Hahahaha yeah allllll the bakeries!” she laughed, and I couldn’t help but laugh along with her, despite myself. Her enthusiasm was ridiculous, and yet it was also infectious. Plus, it was rattling the window.
“Alright, Miss Moneybags,” I finally said, shaking my head, “Don’t get too carried away…don’t want to break the place.”
Melissa gasped, clutching her chest dramatically. “‘Miss Moneybags’? Is that all I am to you now?” she teased, pretending to look wounded. Then, as if the idea struck her out of nowhere, she giggled again, her dimples deepening. “Better than ‘Miss Funbags,’ though, which is more what I’m used to!”
That caught me completely off guard. I let out an awkward snort of laughter before burying my face in my hands. “Melissa…”
“What?!” she laughed, her voice light and bubbly, clearly delighted by my reaction and how I peeked out at her through gaps in my fingers. She bounced a little on her knees, the motion sending an unmistakable ripple through her upper body, making me open up the cracks a bit wider. “I’m just saying, it’s nice to be appreciated for my brain for once!”
“Oh, yeah,” I said, wiping my hand down my face as I tried to get myself under control. “Definitely your brain that got you that promotion...”
“OH SO FRESH!” she scolded me, shooting me a faux-stern look and wagging her finger at me. “ You be careful, mister, or I’ll start docking your allowance.”
“Allowance?” I repeated, raising an eyebrow.
Her grin widened, and she leaned forward, resting her elbows on her thighs as she regarded me with playful intent. “Oh, I was serious when I mentioned that at lunch, Jay. I’m making so much now, and you’re making, like, nothing. I could totally give you an allowance! Imagine it - you, all set up with a little fistful of money every week, just for being my perfect, adorable little house-husband.”
I felt my cheeks flush, and I let out a nervous laugh. Aside from the jab, one other thought shot fleetingly though my head - was that just a marriage proposal? I let that notion disappear. “I…uh…I don’t want to just be a house-husband, Melissa.”
She tilted her head, pouting just a little, though her eyes were still dancing with mischief. “Why not? You’d be so good at it! And I could come home every day to my sweet little man, all cozy and waiting for me with dinner…”
“Melissa…” I groaned. The image was too much, too soon. Inevitable? Maybe. But too soon.
“Okay, okay, fine,” she said, throwing up her hands in mock surrender. “If you don’t want to be my house husband…what else could I have you do…? Keep you useful…”
“Melissa..!” I groaned again, as she tapped her chin thoughtfully, her lips pursed as though she were contemplating some great philosophical mystery.
“OOo - you could be my closet keeper!” she sang, “Organize all my clothes and shoes-!”
“Your shoes..?” I lamented, chuckling but then looking past Melissa to the mountain of new footwear that had appeared in my apartment over the last two days. That would actually be a huge job, if these deliveries keep coming.
“Yeah my shoes!” she continued, “One of your chores can be keeping them dusted...”
“Ch-chores?”
“Yes, ‘chores’,” she <giggled>, “you do have to earn your keep around here!”
“Oh my g-”
“Making sure each step I take is in a perfect, beautiful heel that you have so lovingly cleaned and cared for! <giggle!!>”
“Melissa, I am not being your shoe-boy,” I insisted, laughing.
“Okay, okay fine,” she laughed, “for now.” Her finger was back tapping her chin, and she was back again contemplating her options. After a moment, her face lit back up. “Oh! I know! If you don’t want to be my house husband, or my shoe-boy, you could be my own personal doctor! And I’ll pay you, to take care of just me!”
“Melissa…” I laughed again, my voice breaking slightly.
“C’mon!” she pressed, scooting closer on her knees and leaning in until she was right in front of me. Her eyes were wide and sparkling, her smile impossibly bright. “I’d pay you good! Let’s try it - examine me!”
I froze, my heart suddenly hammering in my chest as Melissa leaned in closer, her mischievous grin widening before she suddenly opened her mouth, tilting her head slightly downward to bring it closer to my eye level. “Ahhh!” she said, in a loud, exaggerated tone, like a patient in a doctor’s office.
The sound was deep, resonant, and playful - and again the windows rattled. But it was her mouth itself that stopped me in my tracks. Her lips parted impossibly wide, revealing a vivid tableau of wet pinks and gleaming whites. Her tongue rested heavily on the floor of her mouth, its surface glistening under the golden afternoon light streaming through the window. Her teeth - so white and straight they might have been sculpted - framed the cavern of her mouth in two immaculate rows. No fillings, no dental work. I was no dentist but I’d say her teeth were perfect. And farther back, just visible beyond the glossy arch of her palate, her throat yawned open, a shadowy, living abyss.
From my vantage point, sitting low on the couch and craning my neck upward to meet her, the sheer size of her mouth was staggering. Remember, I was 4’3” and she nearly seven feet tall, and had a big mouth to begin with. My mind struggled to process it. It was…huge. The glossy curves of her lips, the plumpness of her tongue, even the faint ridges of her soft palate - it was all so big.
The thought came unbidden, and I tried to suppress it: Could I fit my whole hand in there? My arm, down into her throat? A shiver ran through me as I recalled, vaguely, that insane moment with Randi, back at Melissa’s mother’s house, when she’d slid my entire arm - yes - down her throat. Randi’s mouth and jaw had become superhuman, yes, but Melissa’s mouth…she was so much taller, bigger. Would it - could it - take more? My whole head? I shivered at the thought, the idea of hy head in that wet, wide-open cavern, teeth slowly closing around my neck. Would I fit? No…no, not yet. Not now, maybe, but..?
Wait…there was a time…was it a dream? In the bath?
I swallowed hard, my eyes darting nervously between her glossy lips and her glimmering, amused eyes, which were watching me intently as I struggled to keep my composure.
Melissa held her mouth open for another moment before her eyebrows quirked, and a muffled chuckle escaped her throat. She did her best to speak through her still-wide mouth, her words coming out thick and garbled but still teasing. “C’monnn, doctrrr! Ex’min’ my mouf!”
I blinked rapidly, shaking myself out of whatever weird trance I’d fallen into. My cheeks burned as I realized I’d been staring at her mouth, slack-jawed and dumbfounded, for far too long.
“S-sorry!” I stammered, leaning forward as if to play along. I made a show of peering into her mouth like a doctor would, holding my phone up with one hand to pretend it was a flashlight. “Uh…well…the patient’s tongue looks…uh, healthy? And teeth are…great. No cavities, no plaque buildup…”
I paused, glancing up at her eyes with an awkward grin. “I mean, I’m not a dentist,” I said, “But your, uh, mouth looks fine.
“Fine, huh?” Melissa snorted, closing her mouth with a soft, playful pop. Her lips curled back into a grin, her dimples deepening as she tilted her head at me. “I thought you liked my mouth better than just ‘fine.’”
Before I could respond, her grin transformed into a dramatic, exaggerated pout. Her plump lips pressed together, forming a luscious, heart-shaped kiss, huge and impossibly soft. The gloss on them caught the light, emphasizing their fullness as they pursed and flexed like living pillows, each curve so perfectly shaped it felt almost hypnotic. I couldn’t look away.
She held the pose for a moment, her eyes sparkling with mischief, before making a loud, playful, popping smooch. The sound echoed through the room, breaking my trance. “Mwah!” she said, her voice lilting and teasing. “Just fine?’”
“M-much better than fine, yes,” I chuckled nervously, my face flushing again. She was enjoying this way too much.
“Well then, Dr. Vulni,” she continued, her voice taking on a faux-serious tone, “how about you examine my ears next?”
She reached up, fetching her hair back from her ears with both hands, sweeping her thick, wavy locks away in one fluid, practiced motion. Even that simple gesture, exposing her elegant neck and the delicate curve of her ears, made something tighten in my chest. She turned her head slightly, tilting her right ear toward me. “Go on, doctor,” she encouraged, her voice dripping with playful challenge.
I swallowed, sitting up straighter. She was clearly having fun, but the way her movements and presence seemed to command the room - even when she was just being silly - was something I didn’t think I’d ever get used to. I held up my phone again, pretending it was an otoscope. “Alright, let’s, uh, take a look.”
I leaned closer, the faint scent of her shampoo - something floral and light - filling my nose. Her ears were, like the rest of her, flawless. The delicate curves of her outer ear were perfectly symmetrical, smooth, and free of any blemishes. Her skin was creamy and soft, with the faintest hint of pink at the edges. Even the small details - the subtle whorls and ridges of her ear canal - seemed too perfect to be real. I had to remind myself: these were ears that could literally hear a pin drop, or whispers across a crowded room.
“Well?” Melissa asked, her voice tugging me out of my thoughts.
“The patient’s ears,” I said, trying to sound clinical, “are…uh…perfect. Symmetrical, healthy. No signs of infection, irritation, or abnormality. Yep. Perfect ears.”
Melissa giggled, her hands still holding her hair back. “Perfect, huh? I’ll take it.” She let her hair fall loose again, shaking it out with a little flourish that sent waves of deep brunette spilling around her shoulders. “Alright, next: my hair! Can you examine my hair, doctor?”
“Your hair?” I asked, raising an eyebrow, “That’s not usually part of a phy-”
“Yeah my hair!” she said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. She tossed her head dramatically, fluffing her manu out with both hands. The act sent her thick locks rippling like a silken curtain, each strand catching the light and shimmering with a deep, chocolatey sheen.
I hesitated, but she turned her back to me, sitting on her knees and tilting her head back slightly. Her hair fell in perfect waves down her back, nearly reaching her waist. It was so thick, so full, that it seemed to flow like liquid as she shifted.
“It grows so quick, so long,” she continued, as she shook it out to its full length, “I have to cut it almost every morning or it would just, like, fill up the room. Is that normal, doctor?”
“N-normal?” I stammered, as I resisted just leaning in and burying my face into it. Of course that’s not normal. “That’s, um…”
“Go on,” she said, tossing a glance over her shoulder, her dimples making a reappearance. “Examine it. And be thorough, doctor.”
I reached out hesitantly, my fingers brushing against the soft, velvet strands. Her hair was impossibly smooth, yet dense and heavy, like holding a bundle of the finest silk. I let my fingers sink into it, marveling at its softness, its strength. Each strand seemed imbued with life, shimmering in the golden light of the room. I marveled at it in my hands.
“You like long hair, don’t you, Doctor J?” she asked, more seductively than most any of my patients.
“Uh…well,” I began, my voice faltering as I gently ran my fingers through the long waves. I was struggling to remain ‘professional’...or whatever this charade was we were in. My hands were buried in her mane, kneading it. “The patient’s hair is…well-maintained, thick and healthy, which is, uh, a good indicator of overall health,” I extolled, though struggling to find words, “The strands are strong with, um, minimal breakage. Very…very, uh…shiny.”
“Shiny, that’s good,” Melissa purred. She let me still stroke, stroke, stroke her hair, fluffing it with my hands, admiring it,. “Anything else, doctor?” she asked, her voice lilting with amusement.
I paused, swallowing hard as I realized I’d been running my fingers through her hair for far longer than necessary. I could lose my whole self in it, I thought, like I’d lost my hands. I could bury myself.
“The patient’s hair,” I managed, “is…very long and well-maintained. It’s…uh…beautiful. And, uh…shiny.”
Melissa giggled again, glancing back at me with a grin. “Still shiny, huh?” she giggled, “And soft?”
“Y-yeah…soft.”
“Okay, well, let’s move on then,” she said, turning her face away again and reaching behind herself with her right hand to pull her thick mane of hair over her right shoulder. It slipped like liquid silk through my fingers, baring her upper back to me.
My breath caught in my throat. Even through the soft, baby-pink tee she was wearing, the breadth and strength of her back were unmistakable. The thin fabric clung to her frame, highlighting every contour and ridge of her muscular physique. Her shoulder blades shifted subtly as she moved, the interplay of muscle beneath her skin forming deep, elegant lines.
Her shirt was well-loved, slightly faded and thin as if from years of wear. It stretched taut across her shoulders, doing nothing to hide the sheer size of her frame. I could see the straps of her bra over her shoulders and cutting across her mid-back, thick and functional, clearly designed to support an extraordinary figure. Even the pressure of the bra against her back seemed to highlight the powerful curvature of her torso, the swell of her traps and the broad expanse of her lats.
“Can you examine my neck and shoulders, doctor?” Melissa asked sweetly, her tone casual but laced with a teasing edge. She tilted her head forward again slightly, her long, swanlike neck elongating as she rolled her shoulders slowly, drawing my attention to the flex and ripple of muscle beneath her shirt.
“Oh my god…” I marveled to myself, swallowing hard and suddenly acutely aware of the size difference between us. From where I sat on the couch, she loomed in front of me, her back impossibly wide compared to my smaller frame. I hesitated, my hand hovering awkwardly as I leaned forward.
“Well, uh…t-the patient’s neck…” I began, my voice cracking slightly. I cleared my throat, struggling to maintain a semblance of professionalism despite the absurdity of the situation. “The patient’s neck is…long, um, very symmetrical. No…uh…no signs of strain or swelling…” My fingers lightly traced the nape of her neck, down her smooth skin. I could feel the cervical vertebrae beneath…C2, C3, C4.
I let my hands glide down her trapezius, thick pyramids, and slide laterally. “And her shoulders…” I continued haltingly, letting my hands hover over the round caps of her delts, the warmth of her skin radiating through the fabric of her shirt.“...are, uh…very well-developed.” They rippled under my touch, full of barely-bridled strength. “Uh, broad, and…well-muscled…”
I trailed off as Melissa purred, approvingly, and then suddenly straightened her posture, drawing her shoulders back. I sat up straight myself and then, without warning, she raised her arms into a double biceps pose.
“Oh, jesus…”
“Like what you see, Jay?” she teased, her voice lilting with amusement.
I’d frozen. Her arms, already massive compared to mine, now looked enormous as her biceps swelled and peaked, stretching the fabric of her shirt to its limits. Her shoulders rounded out into perfect globes of muscle, the striations visible even beneath the thin pink cotton. As she flexed, her upper back came absolutely alive, the muscles rippling and contracting in perfect synchronization. Her traps rose like hills on either side of her neck, and the thickness of her lats flared outward, making her look even broader.
I couldn’t breathe. The sight of her, so effortlessly powerful, so…huge, left me feeling utterly dwarfed. Sitting behind her, I felt like a mere child next to an Olympian goddess, her body a masterpiece of strength and beauty.
“Keep talking, doctor,” Melissa prompted, her tone light but commanding, “I want to know if I’m normal.”
Normal?? I opened my mouth, but no words came out. My gaze was glued to her, my mind racing as I tried to process the sheer scale of her physique. Her triceps, thick and horseshoe-shaped, framed her upper arms as she held the pose. She inhaled and flexed, and her lats flared even wider, creating an unmistakable V-taper that dominated my entire field of vision.
Somehow, yes, I kept talking.
“The…uh…the patient…” I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper. “The patient shows…uh…significant muscular hypertrophy…um, particularly in the…uh…shoulders and arms, and upper back…”
Melissa chuckled, lowering her arms but keeping her shoulders rolled back, her traps still raised. She glanced over her shoulder at me, her green-gold eyes sparkling with mischief. “Significant…what did you call it…high perf..?
“...hypertrophy,” I muttered.
“...hypertrophy. ‘Muscular hypertrophy’,” she repeated, her lips curving into a playful grin. “Sounds serious. Is that your, like, diagnosis, doctor?”
I swallowed again, my throat dry. “It…uh…yeah,” I admitted, my voice barely audible, but still trying to maintain my sense of play. This was fun, right? “‘Muscular hypertrophy of the back, shoulders and upper extremities’...”
She laughed, the sound rich and musical, and turned slightly so I could see her profile. “But, doctor,” she continued, with that same play-worry in her voice, “I’m concerned that it’s not just my, like, back and arms that are getting so big…”
Suddenly, Melissa rose up and spun, the motion so quick and effortless it made me gasp. Then, with a playful squeal, she flung herself sideways onto my lap.
“Who-OOF!” I exhaled sharply, my smaller frame driven into the thin cushions of the couch as her weight fell onto me. Her body was perpendicular to mine, her long legs stretching off to my left while her upper body leaned back to my right. She felt incredibly heavy on my hips; it wasn’t that she was trying to crush me or anything, but my 4’3” frame was no match for a nearly 7-foot woman throwing herself into my lap like I was some kind of living plush chair.
Leaning back, she arched her back slightly, using her elbows to support the weight of her upper body with ease as she kicked her legs into the air with a delighted giggle. “My legs, doctor!” she exclaimed, her voice dripping with faux-concern. “Not just my back or my arms - tell me about my legs!”
I blinked, stunned as she flexed her legs, stretching one out, then the other, like a pin-up model posing for a photoshoot. Her bare feet pointed and curled daintily in midair, her toes wiggling playfully. The afternoon sunlight caught on her flawless skin, emphasizing the smoothness and gentle sheen of her complexion. Her legs were thick but perfectly sculpted, every curve and contour a testament to her incredible athleticism. The muscles in her thighs rippled as she flexed, the strong quads bunching and elongating with each movement. I’d been doing physical exams all my life, but I’d never seen a body so…superior. So…superhuman.
Her calves were as equally mesmerizing as her thighs, firm and defined with just the right amount of softness to remind you that, yes, these belonged to a woman - an overwhelmingly powerful one, but a woman nonetheless. A woman with LEGS.
I couldn’t help but gape at her legs’ length. Her legs stretched so far, so endlessly, that for a moment I struggled to comprehend their size. Her left thigh alone was easily as wide as my torso, and I couldn’t help but realize with a jolt of awe that her legs - measured from hip to toe - were probably as long as I was tall, if not longer.
“C’mon, doc,” Melissa purred, her voice breaking me from my trance. “Aren’t you going to tell me what’s wrong with them?” She cooed as she stretched one leg upward, pointing her toes toward the ceiling before letting it drop lazily down. “Do I have…’muscular hyper-whatever’ in my legs, too?”
I swallowed hard, my mouth dry. For a moment, I was completely flabbergasted, my mind reeling at the sheer size and power of her legs. But then, with her gaze fixed expectantly on me, I managed to pull myself together.
“Well…” I began awkwardly, doing my best to adopt a professional tone again. “The, uh…the patient’s lower extremities appear to be…um, exceptionally well-developed.” My voice cracked slightly, but I pushed on. “The musculature is…uh, prominent, particularly in the quadriceps and, uh, calves. There is, um…yes. Clear evidence of muscular hypertrophy.”
Melissa giggled, her dimples deepening as she stared at me. “Hypertrophy again, huh? Sounds like I’m all kinds of overdeveloped, Doctor J,” she teased, wiggling her toes in the air.
I cleared my throat, trying desperately to keep my focus. “The, uh, the patient’s legs also appear to be…extremely long, which…uh, proportionally contributes to…”
“To what?” Melissa interrupted, her grin widening as she tilted her head coyly. To my height?
I hesitated, my face burning as I tried to find a way to phrase it. “To…um…to the patient’s overwhelming…uh, presence,” I finished lamely, nodded dumbly and unable to do anything else. I sat there, my hands trembling slightly as I avoided touching her impossibly long, impossibly perfect legs.
Melissa laughed, the sound warm and musical. “Overwhelming, huh?” she repeated, giving her calf a little flex before curling her leg in and down, “I’ll take that as a compliment. I like being overwhelming.” Across my lap, she stretched, catlike, arching her back at her tiny waist, tilting her head back on her shoulders. Closing her eyes, she let me drink in the sight of her, splayed before me like an offering.
“Oh my god, you’re so beautiful…” I couldn’t help but say. If she stretched out, she’d be taller than the couch was long. She was built like a god.
She giggled in reply, and turned her head towards me as she lazily opened her eyes. She smiled, amused at the state she had me in, ogling her jaw-dropping body. “But, doctor, if you think my legs are overwhelming…”
Melissa shifted suddenly, flipping over in my lap and onto her belly, all with an agility that belied her size. “...then how about my BUTT?” she exclaimed playfully, finishing her query and settling herself so her immense rear was directly in front of me, the weight of her hips pressing down on my thighs.
I froze, my breath hitching at the sheer sight of her. She was wearing a pair of white hipster-style panties, their soft material stretched to its absolute limit across the expanse of her curves. The fabric clung to her perfectly, outlining the shape of her absolutely enormous rear end. From my position, her haunches completely filled my vision. Her rear rose up, and curved down to her narrow waist sharply, creating a breathtaking sweep that was absolutely surreal.
She giggled, her playful energy palpable as she wiggled slightly in my lap. “Well, doctor? Don’t keep me waiting. What’s your professional opinion?”
I couldn’t help it. My hands moved on their own, trembling as they settled on her right cheek. The warmth of her body radiated through the soft fabric of her panties, and the sensation was…overwhelming. My hands seemed so small against her, utterly incapable of cupping even a fraction of her incredible curves. They drifted from the fabric of her panties to her bare cheek. Her skin was soft but beneath that, I could feel the firm, powerful muscles that gave her shape its striking definition.
I swallowed hard, my voice shaky as I tried to speak. “The…uh…the subject’s buttocks…appear overdeveloped and-”
“‘Overdeveloped’??” she interrupted, her tone mock-indignant as she turned her head to look at me over her shoulder. Her green eyes sparkled with playful accusation. “You’re just trying to say BIG, aren’t you??”
“N-no! I mean…” I stammered, my cheeks burning as I struggled to form a coherent response.
Before I could say anything else, Melissa suddenly pushed herself up off my lap, to come to stand in front of me, facing away. She placed her hands on her hips, then bent forward, pushing her rear backward toward me in a deliberate, exaggerated motion.
“YOU’RE SAYING I HAVE A BIG BUTT!!” she exclaimed, still feigning outrage as she arched her back further, making her already enormous rear appear even larger. From my perspective, sitting on the couch, it was truly monumental, her hips stretching far wider than my entire frame.
I stared, my jaw slack, unable to tear my eyes away. “W-well…yeah?” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.
Melissa burst out laughing, her playful indignation melting away as she straightened up and turned her head to face down at me again, over her right shoulder. “Good hahaha! Tell me more, Doctor Jayyyyy!” she teased, her dimples deepening as she grinned down at me.
I cleared my throat, trying to regain some semblance of composure, still trying to play along. “Exam…uh…exam indicates that the subject has been…well-fed, with a prominent layer of fat providing an extremely soft and appealing texture…” My voice faltered as I continued to describe her, my gaze still locked on her stunning figure. “While the overall shape shows…uh…overwhelming evidence of powerful muscles beneath.”
Melissa pursed her lips, brows knitting as she regarded me. “‘Overwhelming’ again, huh?” she teased, placing her hands on her hips. “You just love using that word, don’t you?”
She straightened herself slightly, back arching, giving me a better view of her dramatic hip-to-waist ratio. “But I think you need to be a little more hands-on, don’t you?”
I hesitated for a moment, then reached out tentatively, placing my hands on her hips. Her waist was small and tight under my grip, accentuated even further by the way her hips flared outward. The curve was so dramatic, so exaggerated, that if I wasn’t touching it in person, I wouldn’t think it could be real.
“Subject’s hips are…uh…significantly wider than her waist,” I murmured, my voice low and halting as I continued my ‘examination’, “Indicating…um…a high level of fertility and overall health…”
Melissa giggled, giving her hips a playful wiggle that made my hands shift against her. “High fertility and health, huh doctor? Sounds like you’re saying I’m, like, built for making babies,” she teased, her tone light but dripping with portent.
I swallowed hard, my throat dry as I tried to keep up. “I mean…uh…the patient’s proportions are…optimal,” I muttered, my face burning as she continued to toy with me, “for, uh, childbirth.”
Melissa leaned forward slightly, her voice dropping into a soft, almost purring tone. “Optimal for childbirth, huh? Well, don’t stop now, doctor. Keep going…tell me how good my body is for baby-making…”
Melissa turned back to face me, standing statuesque above where I sat on the couch. With a playful smirk, she reached for the hem of her snug pink t-shirt and began to lift it, slowly, deliberately, until her flat, toned stomach was fully exposed. Her skin gleamed in the warm light of the room, smooth and flawless, every muscle in her abdomen subtly defined beneath the soft glow.
"Tell me about this, Doctor J," she said, her voice sweet but teasing as she tilted her head and gave me a knowing look.
I swallowed hard, my eyes fixed on her midsection as my heart pounded in my chest. Forcing myself to speak, I adopted the same clinical tone I’d been using, though my voice was shaky and strained. "The…uh…patient’s abdominal region is…well-muscled and toned," I began, my gaze tracing the slight ripple of her abs as she shifted her weight. "There’s…uh…little-to-no excess fat, and the musculature is…uh…highly developed, which would…um…aid in supporting a healthy pregnancy and improve…uh…labor and delivery outcomes."
Melissa’s smile widened, her dimples deepening as she rippled her belly, playing with the musculature of her trim abdomen and watching me marvel at the control she had of it. She then let the hem of her shirt drop back into place and I blinked to clear my vision again. "Hmm…so you’re saying I’ve got the perfect belly for babies, huh?" she purred, running her hand slowly down her stomach and glancing down at me with an expression that was equal parts amused and intrigued. "I mean, I do feel sooooo fertile these days," she added, her tone playful but laced with something deeper, something that sent a shiver down my spine, “Maybe being around you is turning me into a baby-maker.”
Before I could respond, she leaned forward, placing each of her hands on the back of the couch behind me. Her arms stretched out on either side of my head, framing me in as she loomed over me. The motion brought her chest immediately close, and I could feel the heat of her body, the strong scent of her perfume mingling with the air around us. Her breasts, massive and full, strained against the thin fabric of her low-cut pink t-shirt, their sheer size making it hard to focus on anything else.
"Okay, doctor…" she said, her voice dripping with honeyed mischief as she looked down at me. She’d positioned herself so I had to crane my neck, tilt my head back back back, just to try to get eye contact. She seemed amused that I mostly failed."...how about these? Will these make me into a better mommy?" She arched an eyebrow, her expression daring me to continue.
My mouth went dry as I stared up at her, completely at a loss for words. Her breasts were so close, so overwhelming, that it was hard to think straight. “Uhhhh…” I hesitated, fumbling for a response, but Melissa’s eyes sparkled with amusement as she tilted her head.
"Go on," she encouraged, her voice soft but insistent. "You’re the doctor, remember? Tell me how they’re suited for…you know, motherhood."
I took a shaky breath, gathering every ounce of willpower I had left as I forced myself to speak. "The…uh…the patient’s breasts," I began, my voice trembling as I tried to maintain a semblance of this game we were playing, "appear to be…uh, exceedingly large, possibly indicative of, umm…gigantomastia. This, uh, condition, while rare, would…um…suggest an exceptional capacity for lactation and…nourishing an infant."
Melissa giggled, her big mouth curving into a playful smile as she leaned in slightly, her face closer to mine now. "’Exceptional capacity for lactation’, huh?" she teased, her tone warm but undeniably flirtatious. "So, you’re saying I’d make a great mommy, doctor? Able to feed babies?”
I could only nod dumbly, my face burning as she continued to grin down at me, her green eyes sparkling with delight. But she wasn’t done yet.
"Okay, Jay," she said, her voice changing as something came over her, like an inspiration or idea. She’d dropped to a softer, more intimate tone as she straightened up and looked down at me with a curious expression. "Now, hun, I want you to imagine it. Imagine me with a baby. What do you think that would look like?"
I hesitated, my mind racing as I tried to process her words, what she was saying, what she was asking me to do. My skin, suddenly, was prickling, strangely, on my chest, back, up into my face. "I…uh…" I stammered, unsure how to respond.
"Come on, I want to try something," Melissa urged gently, her voice encouraging but with a subtle edge of command. "Close your eyes if you need to. Just imagine it - me, with a baby in my arms. What do you see?"
The prickles in my skin had migrated onto my scalp and…so weird…moved deep into my ears. I swallowed hard, my instincts suddenly warring with the tender command in her voice. My eyes fluttered shut.
“That’s it,” she whispered, her breath brushing against my cheek. I didn’t realize her hand was now on my shoulder until her fingers gave the slightest, almost imperceptible squeeze. “Just…relax. Don’t fight it.”
Her words settled into my mind like stones dropped into still water, each one rippling outward, deeper, deeper. My pulse pounded in my ears as the tingling went in past my ears and I, weirdly, couldn’t help but imagine what she was telling me to see. A coherent image began to form in my mind.
I saw her - Melissa - in my, no, in our little apartment, standing tall and serene, her face glowing with maternal warmth. The scene was hazy, as if I was watching through gauze but I could see that in her arms, she cradled what looked like a baby, small and helpless against the curves of her body. Was it our baby? Her long, wavy hair framed her radiant face, and her lips curved into a tender smile as she gazed down at the tiny figure in her arms. She wore a flowing sundress, soft and pastel, that somehow managed to enhance her already transcendent presence.
The baby in her arms squirmed slightly, stirring in her arms, its tiny fingers curling against her collarbone. Melissa’s gaze dropped to it, her expression softening further. She held it closer, murmuring soothing words in that melodic voice of hers. The child fit perfectly against her, her arms strong and steady, her touch gentle but unyielding. It had her warmth, her scent, her enormous hands enveloping it, supporting its head with effortless grace. Her arms, so strong yet so gentle, cradled it against her chest - a chest so full and abundant that it seemed to embody life itself.
The haze had lifted somewhat, but still blurred the outskirts of my vision, a vignette that softened the scene.
The baby was impossibly small in her arms, its little body swaddled in soft blankets as she held it close. Its cheek rested against her chest, and could feel the rhythmic rise and fall of her breathing, the soothing heat of her skin. Her voice washed over it, soft and comforting, as she whispered words of reassurance. She was its whole world, and it was absolutely at her mercy.
Her hands, so massive compared to the baby’s tiny frame, adjusted it gently, one cradling the back of my…its head while the other supported it under the legs. Her thumb brushed against my cheek, her touch impossibly soft yet firm, as if reminding me that I belonged to her, that I was hers to care for, to protect, to love.
Wait, what?
I saw a rocking chair by the window. We were moving towards it.
No, wait, stop..!
The image shattered like glass, the warmth receding as I opened my eyes and the world snapped back into focus, dropping me back into the present with a jolt. My heart was pounding, my face flushed - and Melissa’s bulging cleavage right in front of me. Her huge face was looking down at me, her golden eyes wide and sparkling with life. I couldn’t bring myself to look up at her, or her breasts; my gaze dropped.
“What did you see, Jay?” she asked softly, her tone as playful as ever but now tinged with curiosity. “C’mon, look at me. What did you see?”
I blinked, raising my eyes, heart still racing, my mind struggling to process what had just happened. “I…I don’t…” I stammered, my voice trailing off as I looked up at her.
Her grin widened as she tilted her head, studying my face with those piercing gemstone eyes. “C’mon,” she teased, her voice low and warm, “you don’t have to be shy with me. Did you imagine me holding a baby?”
I swallowed hard, forcing myself to nod. “Y-yeah,” I admitted, my voice shaky.
Melissa leaned in closer, her eyes sparkling with delight. “Was it you, Jay?” she asked, her tone dripping with amusement, her dimples deepening as she smirked knowingly. “Were you the baby I was holding?”
I couldn’t answer. My face burned as I stared down at my lap, completely unable to meet her gaze. Of course, an enormous erection strained in my pants, pushing up above the elastic waistline of my pants.
She laughed, the sound rich and musical, and reached out to cup my chin in her hand, tilting my face up to meet hers. Her touch was firm but gentle, her fingers warm against my skin. “You don’t have to say it, it worked,” she murmured, her voice soft but commanding. “I can see it all over your face.”
“How…?” I began, but the words caught in my throat.
Her smile widened, and she leaned back slightly, her gaze never leaving mine. “I’m not sure,” she admitted, almost to herself, her voice thoughtful. “I just…I wanted you to see it. To feel it. And…you did, didn’t you?”
I swallowed hard, my pulse pounding in my ears. She didn’t sound entirely sure of herself, as if she was testing something new, something uncharted.
“Melissa…what did you do?” I whispered, my voice barely audible. Was this horror I was feeling, or something else?
Her eyes sparkled with mischief, but there was a hint of wonder in them, too, like a child discovering a new toy. “I don’t know, and I couldn’t hold onto it long enough,” she said, her voice soft but tinged with excitement. “But whatever it was…it worked, didn’t it?”
I didn’t answer. I couldn’t.
She tilted her head, studying me with an intensity that made my skin prickle. She saw how uncomfortable it had made me. “You liked it, though,” she said, her tone teasing but certain. “Didn’t you, Jay?”
I opened my mouth to respond, but the words wouldn’t come. I wasn’t sure what I felt - dread, awe, or something else entirely. All I knew was that she’d just done something I couldn’t explain, and it left me reeling. And so, so hard.
“Good,” she said softly, leaning in just a little closer. Her voice was like velvet brushing against my nerves. “Because I think I’m going to try it again. Close your eyes.”
“N-n-no Melissa wai-!”
The tingles, again, stronger and more intense this time, caught the words in my throat as they shot up my chest, up my neck, over my face and into my ears. They sizzled into my brain as my pulse pounded. Then the world shifted and my eyes closed. Her voice echoed again, both aloud but inside me. “You’re safe, Jay. You’re with me. Just let it happen…”
Like stones in a pond. <plop, plop, plop> Sending ripples across my consciousness.
“That’s it,” she purred, her tone softening even further. “Relax. This time, let me show you more…”
The sensation grew stronger, like warm waves lapping at my sense of reality, pulling me out to the deep as it all started to come into focus. This time, I knew it wasn’t just my imagination. The vision came unbidden, as if it were being placed there, carefully constructed and impossibly vivid. Warm.
The warmth wasn’t just imagined - I could feel it, coursing through me like a physical sensation. The scent of her, soft and floral and comforting, wasn’t just in my mind - it was in the air around me. And there, at the edge of my awareness, was something else. A faint pressure, like a hand at the back of my mind. It wasn’t intrusive, not exactly, but it was steady and unmistakable, nudging me further into the image, shaping it, deepening it.
I wanted to protest, to shake off the feeling, but it was like my thoughts weren’t entirely my own. The image grew sharper, more all-encompassing. I saw myself in her arms, my already diminished body shrinking further, becoming nothing more than a tiny, helpless bundle in her care. Her smile deepened, her voice a soft coo as she whispered down to me.
“There we go, baby,” she said, her voice blending seamlessly with the real world.
The vision felt too real, too vivid. Before, there had been a haze. Now, there was none.
I saw her again, above me, holding me - Melissa, radiant and serene, the golden light from the window bathing her in a halo of warmth. She was cradling me, just as she had before, her strong arms holding me effortlessly against her chest. The world around us was quiet, peaceful, as if nothing else existed but this moment.
Her body was a marvel of contrasts - soft and maternal yet firm and powerful. Her hands, so much larger than mine, moved with gentle precision, adjusting the blanket that covered me. The touch of her fingers was warm and steady, a reminder of how utterly she had me - absolutely vulnerable - in her care.
I shuddered as the image deepened. In my mind’s eye, she carried me now to the rocking chair by the window. She sat herself into it, her broad hips filling the seat completely and causing the chair to softly creak. She repositioned me slightly, and I felt the world shift as she settled, cradling me in her lap and to her enormous chest. Her bare legs stretched out in front of her, long and shapely from out of her floral sundress, her toes flexing lazily as she began to rock us back and forth. The moment was overwhelming, a mixture of comfort and humiliation, of surrender and awe.
Her voice was a whisper, a soft hum of comfort that seemed to vibrate through me. “There we go, baby,” she murmured, her tone rich with affection as we rocked together, “Just relax. Mommy’s here.”
She gazed down at me lovingly, I up at her. I was mute, unable to speak - and even so, I wouldn’t have the words. The moment was transcendent, primal, and the phantom hand at the back of my head holding me in this vision felt just like hers, the one holding me to her chest.
Her other hand, now, though, moved to the hem of her shirt, lifting it with an unhurried, practiced ease. The fabric bunched up, revealing the flawless expanse of her stomach before she pulled it higher, exposing the heavy fullness of her breast.
It was breathtaking, perfectly round, impossibly large, and so soft-looking that it defied reality - or whatever the laws were of this world we were in. Her skin was smooth and warm, faint veins visible just beneath the surface. The nipple, dark and full, stood out prominently, ready and inviting, rippled with nubs.
“There we go, look at that,” she whispered again, her voice a lullaby. “That’s what you want, isn’t it?”
She shifted me slightly in her arms, positioning me with the kind of care only a mother could give. She let me look, gaze upon her nipple and enormous breast until I started to whine, my mouth starting to open and close instinctively.”Shhhh, honey, shhh…” she cooed, “it’s coming…mama’s here.” Her fingers brushed against my cheek, and slowly began guiding my head closer to her chest.
Something buzzing, in the back of my brain. Something angry.
In the vision, I was utterly helpless, completely overwhelmed by her. I could feel the warmth radiating from her nipple, the steady rhythm of her breathing, the gentle rocking of the chair still beneath us. My lips parted, drawn to her like a moth to a flame. Her nipple brushed against my mouth, soft and yielding and like everything I ever darkly wanted, and yet as I felt the barest hint of her on my tongue something inside me bucked, buzzed, reared, pulled back-
The vision had wavered, like a film reel slipping off track. The warmth receded, the edges of the scene growing quickly blurry and indistinct. I felt a tug at my consciousness, a sharp pull that yanked me back into the real world.
And then, glass shattered.
“Oh, no-“ I heard, as reality suddenly swam around me. Her voice was newly plaintive. “C’mon, Jay! You know this is what you want…!”
My eyes snapped open, my breath coming in shallow gasps as I found myself again on the couch staring into her tits. Melissa was still in front of me, above me, her hands resting on the back of the couch on either side of my head again. I looked up. Her expression was a mixture of arousal and frustration.
“Darn it,” she muttered under her breath, her brow furrowing slightly. She straightened up, and crossed her arms over her chest as she regarded me with a thoughtful, petulant look. “You got out of it,” she said, almost more to herself than to me.
I blinked up at her, still reeling from what I’d just experienced. “Wh-what…?” I stammered, my voice barely audible. What just happened? Why did it end? And…was I relieved?
She sighed, shaking her head with a small, newly wry smile. “I almost had it,” she said, her tone a mixture of amusement and exasperation. “I mean, it worked, again. You saw it. You felt it. But I need to figure out how to…y‘know…keep you there.”
My heart was racing, my mind struggling to process what had just happened. “Melissa…p-please. What was that?” I asked, my voice shaky.
She grinned, her confidence slowly returning as she leaned in closer, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she once more put her hands on the couch behind me and leaned in to stare me in the face. “That,” she said softly, “was me figuring out what I can do.”
Okay, now I was more than a little freaked out. “Wh-what do you mean?”
Her grin widened, her dimples deepening as she studied me, her thumb brushing lightly against my jaw. “You really do like seeing me as your everything, don’t you?” she said softly, her voice a mix of teasing and tender fondness that softened the sharp edges of her confidence, “Your protector, your lover. Your provider. Your…mommy.”
The word hung in the air between us, heavy and charged. I shivered, my breath hitching as I struggled to process the overwhelming mix of emotions her words stirred in me. My breath hitched, and I could feel my face burning, though I wasn’t sure if it was embarrassment, fear, or…something else entirely.
“B-b-but…?? Wh-what…what did y-you do to m-???”
She chuckled softly, her thumb trailing along my jawline and tilting my chin up so I couldn’t avoid her gaze. “Shhh…relax, honey,” she said, using her voice as a soothing melody. “I think the new promotion didn’t just make me taller, give me a bigger salary, or…” She paused and smirked, tossing her hair over her shoulder, “…or bigger boobs. I think it gave me some new powers.”
“What-what do you-?” I started, but she silenced me with a finger to my lips.
“Shush,” she said firmly, though her smile didn’t waver. “I mean it. Relax.”
Her brow furrowed for a moment, a flicker of irritation breaking through her confidence. “I’m still figuring it out,” she admitted, her voice dipping lower. “But whatever it is, it’s not strong enough yet. I wasn’t able to keep you in that little daydream of mine as long as I wanted. You’ve still got too much…strength. Or resistance. Or…whatever you want to call it.”
I blinked up at her, still trying to process what she was saying. This is impossible!
Melissa’s lips pressed into a thin line, and she sighed, shaking her head. “It’s not impossible. But it looks like I’ll just have to get stronger,” she said, almost to herself, her tone a little brusque. Her eyes flicked back to mine, sharp and full of authority. “And we’ll practice again later. For now…”
Her hands slid down to my shoulders, and suddenly she was pushing me back against the couch, her movements deliberate and assertive. “Let’s get back to your examination. I think you were on my breasts,” she said, her voice taking on a teasing lilt as she leaned forward, raising up at the hip so her bosom came mere inches from my face. “In fact…”
Her fingers trailed down to the hem of her tight pink T-shirt, which stretched taut over her enormous, gravity-defying chest. With a playful smirk, she gripped the fabric and slowly pulled it up, up, up over her chest to expose her enormous breasts in a baby-pink, satin bra and the deep, shadowed valley of her cleavage. “…I think you need to examine them closer.”
Before I could respond, she reached down, cupped the back of my head with her other hand, and pulled me forward - straight into her chest. My face was suddenly swallowed by the overwhelming softness of her cleavage, and my head disappeared between her breasts. Immediately she lowered her t-shirt back down over her breasts - and my head between them. The strong scent of her perfume filled my nostrils, making my head spin.
“See? Maybe I can’t keep you trapped with my mind yet…” she giggled, her voice muffled by the walls of flesh pressing against my ears but dripping with mischief. She squeezed me tighter, my head completely immobilized between the warm, pillowy mounds of her breasts. “…but my boobs? My boobs can. They can keep you trapped with me for as long as I want, no problem.”
I let out a muffled sound of protest - or maybe it was surrender - and felt her laugh again, an amused chuckle that still belied her disappointment. She wanted even more control over me, but this would have to do. The vibrations of her laugh rumbled through her chest like a soft, playful earthquake, and rather than fight her, I just let her hold me. She liked that.
“That’s better, Jay,” she purred, leaning me back slightly to squash me into the back of the couch, sandwiched between its cushions and hers. I felt her reach down and grab my cock - already hard, of course - pulling it from my pants with a rip of fabric. “Now, be a good little doctor in there and examine me,” she taunted, already beating me off, “I’m not letting you out ‘til you do…”
===========================