#I’m not a simp for marvel or anything but I did like that they’re highlighting those issues | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

stevenbasic · 4 years

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I know there are guys like this, Melissa thought to herself, guys like this all over the place. Guys that collect pictures of girls, built girls, save them all on their computers to do...ewww...whatever it is they do with them. She had some guys like that, still, she knew, as Instagram followers, even on her new, now-private profile. There was a smattering of guys, she knew, who basically stalked her, perved over her every post. She tended to indulge them, from time-to-time, throw them a little bone here or there, some cleavage, whatever. It was fun, for a while, she’d get a kick out of it, casually teasing these guys who simped for her. But it had kinda gotten old. Now it was more her friends who seemed to love it, love seeing it, love laughing at the guys. It was harmless enough fun, and these men were just sorta silly and pathetic. I just didn’t think Dr J was one of them…

She had needed to see for herself, have some time to process. It was eight AM but she’d needed to see for herself, all these pictures of her that Randi and Marisela told her he’d supposedly been hoarding on his office computer. On a Tuesday like this one she’d have plenty of time; he’d be doing his rounds at the hospital until mid-morning, when he’d return to the office. She’d closed his door so she’d be undisturbed as the other girls drifted into work. Melissa knew she needed to come to terms with this, and see what was on his computer for herself, especially after what Marisela had told her about what was going on….that kinda made her mad, too.

Okay, there it is, right where Marisela said it’d be, she thought. On his hard drive, the folder labeled “Protected”. Let’s see if this password works...

oh, my…

For some reason Melissa had found herself earlier this morning, while getting ready, almost unconsciously putting on heavier makeup, applying more layers of gloss and lipstick than she knew she should. She’d found herself pulling out a striped red dress, one that cinched too tight to her waist which - despite everything else getting bigger these days - seemed to be, if anything, slowly disappearing. This dress clung too tightly to her torso, she realized, its horizontal stripes only emphasizing the size of the bust she’d packed tightly this morning into her new, bigger bra. This dress was also wayyy too short, she knew, revealing too much of the long, flawless legs that she’d tanned to a deep olive in her week in the sun, sculpted in the gym to heavily-muscled perfection. It covered her overly-shapely rear, she also knew, but left little to the imagination as to its full size; her ass had grown huge, recently, and this dress surely did nothing to hide that. The heels she chose - yellow and too tall, really, to be appropriate for the office - would only highlight the muscle tone of her already large calves, make her glutes look even fuller, shift her weight to pull her shoulders back, further emphasizing her bust and exaggerating the already unmistakeably feminine aspects of her gait. Her hair, as well, she’d fluffed out more than usual this morning...why? The one thing she found herself foregoing, though, was perfume. I’ve been making enough of that myself, already, she’d thought, I don’t need it.

Oh, no, look at all this, Melissa lamented, finally opening the folder labeled “Melissa” and then audibly gasping at its contents...countless pictures of her. Where did he find it all? How much time has he spent collecting these?? She began to scroll through the thumbnails, everything from current images grabbed from her Instagram to old modeling pics he must have found in the internet to...where did he ever find these ones from Hooters?!?

Suddenly she was overcome when an image of him - sitting in this very chair, looking at these pictures and rubbing himself, sliding his hand into his pants - flashed into her head.

Is that what you do with these? Why else would you be...collecting them? Oh, Dr. J...not you, too?

As she marveled, wide-eyed, beginning to grasp the enormity of his collection, of just how many pictures of her he’d accumulated, it dawned on her: he also has dozens upon dozens of pictures of her in a bikini, from the past week - on his ph-..oh, wait. Oh god. He’s downloaded them all into here already...there’s a whole folder, a new one, called “conference”.

Part of me wishes they never told me...

She flashed back, for the moment, to early yesterday morning, Monday in her new office with Randi and Marisela…

“...we got in last week, finally, Marisela cracked it,” Randi had said, “I just knew he’d have a porn stash. But that there’s so much of YOU in it…?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry Melissa,” Marisela had added, “The guy’s a total perv. We’ve known that for years…”

If nothing else she marveled, as she scrolled through the thumbnails, at his diligence, I haven’t seen some of these in ages.

Another image flashed into her head, again him sitting at this desk with these pictures - god, he’s much smaller than me, isn’t he? He wouldn’t fill up this chair nearly as much as I do - with his pants unzipped, pulled down his hips, he’s groaning. Looking at these pictures, zooming in on that one.

His legs are so skinny compared to mine, she thought, as she felt her own body unconsciously flexing, his arms and shoulders so thin and weak.

Why...why did this make her shiver a bit? Why did her mind keep picturing him...wanting to see him when he’d opened up this folder and started to-

But he shouldn’t be doing this! It’s like cheating on his wife. No matter what’s going on between him and Sheryl, he’s still a married man. Melissa could understand why Sheryl’d be mad. Yes, but…

Melissa flashed back again...

“Why are you so shocked?” Randi had asked her, “They’re all like this, every single one. Every single boss you’d ever had.”

At first, she admits, she was shocked. She couldn’t believe what they’d told her, shown her with the screen caps from his desktop - it can’t be!! this is the honorable, upstanding, respectable Dr J!! He’s not like the rest of them, all those other guys, is he?? Obsessive, fixated...

After the initial shock, the disbelief, she got kinda angry - she took this job thinking she was going to be valued for her brains, education, skills. She thought this job would allow her to develop in ways that other jobs, with other bosses, hadn’t. She’d always been a special girl, different from the rest. She had a unique way, she knew, of “growing into the job” - it’s what her mother called it. “Rising to the challenge of a new endeavor” she’d said, become what would allow her the greatest success. Problem had always been, though, that the best way to succeed at her old jobs had turned out to be the same. At Hooters it made sense, even in high school. But with frustration she’d found the same thing happened to her at Nordstrom’s, at the DMV, and at the Dealership. Instead of getting smarter, learning more, becoming more able and capable, she’d just gotten...curvier. Added cup sizes, inches to her hips. This job, after finally getting her degree, was supposed to be different. But now, seeing this screenshot of dozens of pictures of her from her boss’ porn stash, she was finally convinced that, once again she was hired just for her tits. She knew, of course, that he’d found her attractive. That he, being just a guy, could be pretty easily manipulated if she set her mind - and hourglass figure - to it. That she could get what she wanted at the office, be successful in her new position, because of her appearance. That would explain the two - no, three - new sets of bras. Why she’d torn through her yoga pants last week. His tastes were for curves upon curves...lots of guys’ were. And she figured she was growing faster here than at the old jobs because, well...she had become his friend. She’d spent more time with him. She’d grown to, well...really like him, more than she’d ever really admit. So maybe there were other things fueling her, uh, developments. But, again - he was married!

It was so confusing!

She could help it, another image came to her. This time he was still here alone in his office, maybe after hours, doors locked, knowing he’s alone - but now he was blatantly jerking off, pants down, around his ankles. Jerking off and leering at these pictures of her, this time looking - ohh why is this doing this to me?? Making my heart race?? - even smaller. He seemed to be shrunken, a small, small man, wide-eyed and staring, unblinking, at his screen. He was grunting, like a little animal, and shaking back and forth with his efforts.

She flashed back again...

”I know, I know,” Melissa had said, bemoaning this new situation, as if she was grieving some loss, “I know I had him up on a pedestal. I know it was maybe unreasonable. But now….now what am I supposed to do?”

“Missy, relax,” Randi had replied, “Just think- who was able to take him down off of that pedestal? Who did he have pictures of on his computer in a folder that he’s accessed...look at this...more than -four hundred- times? You! You! Face it You got where you are not just through hard work at school. You did hard work at the gym, building yourself in other ways. Despite everything you rose up at Hooters, at the DMV, at the dealership. You are YOU, and that’s what’s bringing you all this success. You as a person, your mind and your body.”

”I guess you’re right…” Melissa had said.

“Of course I am,” Randi had replied, “Use it all, use all you got. Not just your degree-“ At that she’d reached out and grabbed Melissa’s huge breasts, hands sinking into her pliancy, “but these too! Women have to use everything they have to take what they can get.”

The next image, in her mind, was one where he’s dramatically smaller still: How did he even get into the chair? He’s so little... His feet, dangling above the ground, hovered over his pants, now in a pile. He’s naked, in fact, and he’s so small he can barely see over the desk to the monitor, can barely reach his mouse to scroll, to click, to open picture after picture after picture of her. His groans and grunts have changed to whines and he sounds so needy as he’s trying and trying and trying to-

Groaning herself, Melissa was nearly overcome with the thought, and had to catch herself from sliding her hand between her own thick, bare thighs. What was this warmth? What was this subtle swelling in her chest? Why is this doing this to me?!?

She flashes back again

“I guess it can't be helped, looking the way I do...” Melissa said, still in half-pout.

“Don't feel bad, Missy, this is good,” Randi said, as Marisela just watched, observing these two, trying not to judge, learning, “Look at these folders he has - it’s not all of you. Look at all these pictures, these videos. It’s...worshipful. He’s in sheer awe of these women, and you’re one of them.”

Melissa nodded, new wheels, gears in the machinery of her inner self that she didn’t know existed, cranking to life, beginning to turn.

“You can use this to your advantage - to our advantage,” Randi added, encouraging her friend. Though remaining quiet, Marisela’s own pulse had begun to race, listening, hearing the subtext, thinking back on the conversations she and Randi had had. For her own part, Melissa’s feelings were still conflicted. Petulant anger and outright female outrage were at odds with the genuine affection she felt for him, an affection that more and more had been turning into...something deeper. A tugging at her belly. Something rich and wonderful she saw blossoming, when she closed her eyes and thought of him...thought of holding, thought of-

“If he honesty gets off to this sort of thing,” Randi pressed on, pointing at folders in the screenshot image from his desktop, folders labeled “Breast Expansion” or “Amazons” - “if that’s what he really wants....well, Missy. You could make him the happiest man on earth...”

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Original morph in the first image by Migsanch, and help with some of the dialogue by Antares.

#Growing Into the Job

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