GITJ Post 332: A Saturday at Melissa’s, p7 (5PM: Shanette)

”So,” I started, after an early hug hello in the middle of the mall, like, center-hallway-thing, “tell me about the TV station. You were there a long time.” Melissa of course looked great, all gussied-up and professional in a short purple dress.

“Omigod yes Shanette,” Missy agreed, stepping back and throwing her long dark hair over her shoulder as we started walking. We were headed first to Hera’s, where she wanted to pick up some new clothes for Dr. J. “After I thought I was done they got a call, and they needed to do more photos.”

“Huh well that’s cool,” I said, feeling myself fall naturally into the hot-girl strut I always used in public, “it’s kinda like you being a model again.”

“Yeah kinda,” she replied, glancing over at some guy trying to be sneaky and snapping a picture of us. It was weird, now, sometimes, being out in crowds like this. I mean, me and my boobs always got looks. I get it. I’m tall, I’ve been big up top since high school, I’ve got the legs. Missy the same, even more - people were always looking at her, ‘cuz she was so pretty and built, and tall too. But now, crap. I’m 6’1” now  - 6’5” in these heels - and she was like a fucking giant. We, the two of us, walking side by side down the mall, like, hallway thing, towered over everybody. I get it, we stuck out. But these people - well, the guys - they fucking stared. They stopped what they were doing to just look. It was like a hush came over wherever we walked and though we pretended to ignore it it’s like, wow. Some guys followed us, some trying not to be noticed, some not caring at all. Things are different these days, for sure. Guys were different. And that’s why we’re here…

So, anyway. Missy continued to tell me about her day, as the crowd around us just kinda parted and let us walk, like I said the heads were all turning. I knew the Channel 5 people - which, I hear, is like all girls-in-charge now - wanted to do a story about the grand opening of the new wings in the office. That was coming soon; I was just there today in the new clinic for guys and it’s wow so beautiful. And they wanted my help! In setting up some stuff in the new clinic where I’ll be working. But I guess they also wanted to do a whole profile thing about her. They want to talk to her about her career, film her in the gym. Yeah, it was all timed for when some of the new products came out. Some marketing thing, probably. She was like the ideal woman for this new, like, age.

“I’m so proud of you!” I told her as we got to the department store. I was! I was proud of her! We’d been friends forever. We were even roommates for a while until the doctors at Evolution wanted her to move out of our rented brownstone in the city and into the facility with them - that was a couple years ago, now. It had been a nice enough little place they set up, part of the clinic there, deep in the building I guess. It looked like a real apartment if you didn’t look too hard, she’d said. But I’d never been there; she hadn’t been allowed to have visitors. They kept close tabs on her, and I knew they were, like, studying her. She never really complained, at least to me, until recently. Since she started dating Dr. J she began to get frustrated, like they were looking over her shoulder all the time. She wanted some more freedom, some more privacy, and when her mom left the house for some travels she took the chance to tell them she was moving out, into her mom’s place. They didn’t like that, I guess, but good for her! Missy has been too nice in the past, always doing what other people told her. It’s good she put her foot down, and when the new apartments for us were ready over the office we’d all move in there like one big, happy, big-boobie family.

“You’re so beautiful…” someone said, a medium, nervous guy with an old fishing hat, as we passed him on the escalator. He was looking at Missy, of course.

“Oh thank you!” she sang, flashing him a brilliant smile over her shoulder as we rose up above him, him on the moving stairs going down. She didn’t seem to pay it much mind - we went right back to chatting - but it was, like, a reminder of just how simpy men were getting. It’d only been a few days since the election-thing, but everyone was saying it’s different already, even just since then. Guys just seemed, I dunno…smaller. Sillier. Less important. And more, like…timid and scared but also more, I dunno…eager. To show how much they liked us. I don’t know if Missy even realized it but if she called out, right here in the mall, and wanted them all to, like, do something - sing her name, give her money, maybe even haha get on their knees - I’m pretty sure a lot of them would do it. In fact I said something to one guy that was really staring at us, once we got to the top of the escalator and into the  “Young Men’s” section, where we were headed. I told him to ‘get out of the way of your goddess’ and he actually said ‘yes ma’am’ back to me.

So freakin’ funny.

Anyway, Melissa had been telling me about her feelings for Dr. J. She was really in love, but she worried about him. “I mean,” she’d said, “I really, really like being the dominant one in the relationship, and I am...”

I agreed with her, she was. For sure. She was a stronger personality, and absolutely she was physically stronger than him. By like, a lot haha. I’ve seen this girl lift up a couch recently.

“...but more than just being his, like, what do you call it..?”

“Superior?”

“Yeah…more than that, I want to be his protector. The world’s getting weird for men, and he’s…needy.”

“Yeah he is,” I agreed, “and things might get tough for guys like him.”

“And I mean, of course I want to be the boss,” she giggled, “but I also want to be, like…”

“Like a superhero for him?”

“Omigod yes,” she said, as we started browsing the racks. We we’re like that; we knew what one another were thinking, lots of times. Like sisters.

“Here check these out,” I offered, showing her a section of decent choices. She was looking for grey khakis for him, some that would fit. He’d probably need a size 12, she said.

“Yeah it’s funny you say that,” she said, “We’ve been talking about it recently, him and me, him needing me, and already I can feel my body changing. In different ways than before…”

Ok. Let me tell you a little bit about Missy. Some of this you probably already know. She has a way - she always had, ever since I met her when she moved into town in high school - of getting what she needs. Of becoming what she needs. Math classes were tough? No problem, bigger boobs help get better grades. Needed to move up at that job, when the boss was an ass-man? Easy. Boom. Ten more pounds where it counts. Wanted your friends to be as hot as you so you could all hang out and torture boys? Done, bingo. I tell you, maybe it was just luck but it seemed like she had a way of changing herself and everything around her so she would succeed and get what she wanted. “The Missy Effect” we called it. She’d just laugh when we asked her about it, lament that she still couldn’t spell, but I swear to god it was real.

“How do you like these?” she asked, holding up a pair of pants for me to approve.

“They look like little boy pants,” I giggled, making her giggle too.

“Maybe I should get a couple, in a few colors?”

“Hm maybe but you don’t want to get too many, in case he, y’know…”

…keeps getting smaller, we both knew. Like sisters.

“Yeah maybe these and just one more, in tan.”

But anyway, she kept telling me about Dr. J.

“So we had our date night, last night,” she continued, two pairs over her arm as we moved over towards the sweaters. The girls had been calling it ‘Boob Night’ once they heard her plans, which also made her laugh. “And it kinda showed me that I want to move our relationship to, like, the next phase…”

And that’s where I come in. Shanette Stevens: ‘Professional MommyGF’ haha.

She looked at me, and I chuckled. “Let me tell you how it’s going with Scottie,” I said, as we started circling the mannequins with their cute little sweaters. It was getting chilly, being November, and the winter stuff was all out. There were two guys watching us from behind some racks but we just pretended they weren’t there.

“I’m so happy you two are dating..!” she said, smiling, those brilliant green eyes of her sparkling. I love her so much.

“Yeah yeah, yeah…” I agreed. Scottie…Scott Hempsted, Scottie-Two-Times…was a guy, a guy friend of ours, mine and Missy’s, since way back in high school. I always thought he was cute in a goofy yellow-lab kinda way, and I knew he had the hots for Missy (like everybody else). Anyway years, now, out of high school we still all hung out once in a while, and he and I had finally started dating. I had a few conditions for him, haha, of course. For one, he couldn’t just use me to try to get to Missy. It wouldn’t work and I’d kill him. And second, I wanted him to be my baby.

“Oooo this one’s nice,” Missy exclaimed, finding the perfect blue-and-white-striped crewneck, in a boys’ large.

“That is nice,” I agreed.

The feelings had been strong, for a while, and since I started working again with Missy they’d suddenly gotten stronger still. I wanted a man to spoil and dwarf with affection, I wanted a boy to baby. These were getting common, these urges, in a lot of girls, and these big boobs of mine wanted to be put to good use…and as they got bigger they got harder to ignore. It sounds funny maybe but overwhelming a guy with cooking and cleaning and putting his head in your lap when he’s tired or sad or scared was just damn hot. I told Scottie I wanted to be his Mommy Girlfriend, and haha I can still see his face when his jaw dropped. He started shaking and nearly passed out. Boys liked that idea too, these days. A lot.

Missy knew what we’d been doing, together, mostly, Scottie and me. She and I shared that sort of thing. She knew that our favorite sex toy as a couple, for real, was a baby bottle.

And now I think she was looking for advice.

”Okay, so,” I started again, after Missy added the blue sweater to the pile. I’d dropped my voice a bit, so those guys who were still staring at us couldn’t hear. “I spent the whole day with Katarina,” I said, “She told me some crazy shit. Did you know there are places, not here in America but like in the world, like colonies, new colonies, where the guys are all, like, small.”

“Small?” Missy asked, maybe a little confused. She was looking through some sweater vests that, yes, would have been adorable on him.

“Like, made small. Smaller,” I clarified, “Shrunk. Like almost made into babies. Ooo - get that argyle one!”  Missy smiled as she’d already decided on it. Blue argyle - so cute! Anyway, I continued with what Katarina had told me. “And the women, the women in these places are all, like, their moms. Or, like, become their moms, their mommies. They all live together in these, like, yeah…little colonies.”

“omigod,” Missy said, eyes wide, picturing it.

I paused for a second, making sure for sure that we weren’t being overheard: “Katarina asked if I wanted to visit one,” I whispered, “That maybe I could take Scottie…”

“Omigod Shanettttttte I can’t even,” she said, not worrying about lowering her voice in the least, “I’m going to soak through my panties for you.”

Just then, a crash from behind a nearby rack. The guys had been listening, or trying to. One of them was now, their cover blown, running away. The other stood frozen.

“That’s right, run, little man,” I called out, after the one who’d bolted. Then I turned to his friend. “And you too, twerpo. Or we might just sit on you.”

That got Missy laughing, and I laughed too as they now both fled away from the big, mean ladies.

“So your first step,” I started again, as we got back to our conversation and started looking for socks for him, “is to show him how nice it can be to be with a girl with, like, strong maternal instincts. With a maternal woman.”

“I think I can do that,” Melissa giggled, pressing out her twin KK (or whatever they were today) cannons. They seriously looked huger every day, and threatened to burst out of the simple, conservative, wine-colored dress she’d worn to her interview. “These are just full of maternal instincts..!”

“Haha yeah those’ll definitely help,” I laughed, seeing that we maybe had another admirer over by the shoes, another pimply, sweaty-faced stalker. “But even more than the boobs, there’s other stuff. And not just doing his laundry or arranging his drawers.”

“Such as..?” Missy lead, picking out some black dress socks, and then thinking again. The ones with stripes were cuter, I agreed.

“Do things for him. Like, you should be the one that calls in to order, like, pizza,” I said, taking the pants and the sweaters off her hands so she could grab more socks, “and any other thing that, like, implies someone making the call or taking care of a decision. Speak up for everything he´s too shy to say. He’ll appreciate it, and eventually he’ll come to depend on you for it.”

“Ooo I like that,” Missy agreed, eyes wide, “and I like these socks, too. How ‘bout you?”

“Ha, maybe a little much, at this point,” I said. Even Scottie wouldn’t agree to Sesame Street socks. Well, yet haha.

“What else?” she pressed.

“Well, how ‘bout…driving,” I started, “You do all the driving, right?”

“He doesn’t have a car, anymore,” she said, knowing I knew that of course.

“But does he ever, like, offer to drive you guys around, in your car, ask for the keys? Does he even want to drive anymore?”

“I dunno,” she answered, nodding, and moving over to the belts. She was considering the idea, for sure. “He doesn’t really ask…”

“He doesn’t ask to drive because the truth is he doesn’t want to drive,” I said, “He wants you to do it. Because he’s getting afraid of it.” I helped her pick out a nice brown belt for little waists. Reversible, too. “And soon, he won’t be able to do it anymore.”

“Yeah,” Missy agreed, biting her lower lip and staying quiet. But the sparkle in her eye when she glanced at me told me everything. She liked the idea, I could tell.

“And when you drive him, do you make sure he’s buckled in, all nice and safe?” I asked.

“I…I should, huh?”

“Well of course,” I smiled, “and buckle him in yourself, make sure it’s done right.” My own eyes were sparkling now, I could feel it, and I could see Missy picturing smooshing her boobs into him the way I do into Scottie when I buckle him in. I also kiss him on the forehead, and wrinkle my nose when I tell him he’s cute.

“He does like the tender stuff,” she said, “and he likes it when I take care of the things he knows he can´t. The mommy-girlfriend stuff.” There were some shoes that caught Missy’s eye, and we drifted that way. “But I know he also likes the bigger displays of my, like, power. How strong I am. When we’re, like, alone.”

I giggled, thinking of it, imagining what it must be like to be as strong as her and toss a guy around in the bedroom. She’d told me about the table, and pinning him to the wall, lifting and carrying him. “That’s okay,” I finally said, “you can do both. You can be his, like, Super Mommy.”

That made her laugh, but when she bent over to check out some little sneakers on a lower rack I saw our greasy little admirer from before glance her way. Her ass was way in the air, and he was staring.

“Getting a good look?” I snapped, immediately grabbing the guy's attention. His eyes went wide and as Missy stood up…and up…and up…now peering down at him, realizing what he’d been doing, he started to back away. He was maybe fifteen feet down the aisle, retreating.

“Yeah you’d better run,” she said, her voice suddenly bigger and deeper than I’d ever heard it, eyes on the squirrely little man as he kept taking steps backwards. I saw Melissa’s eyes flash, darkening, and then in a big voice which I swear to god made the overhead lights flicker and the whole room shake she boomed “RUN!” and the guy was literally knocked off his feet, blown backwards by the sonic power of her voice. Whether it was from him falling or just the strength of her, the racks rattled,  shoes fell, and a “30% off boy’s shoes” sign across the aisle was blown clean over.

We both watched as the little man clambered to his feet, panicked, and ran away like a scared rabbit. A mannequin toppled over.

“Oh my god, Missy,” I breathed, finally able to speak, looking at her with new eyes. Did I see that right? What had she just done??

“Haha wow…” she said, her voice suddenly back to normal, but her smile with a weird curl, “…that’s new.”

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