Growing into the Job, Post 464: A Morning Together, p5

Melissa finished flushing the toilet, wistfully watching her boyfriend’s mix of pee and come swirl away down the whirlpool to…wherever that stuff went. Without missing a beat, though, and without giving Dr. J time to react, she immediately grabbed his toothbrush. She was still intent on helping him through his morning routine in the most Melissa-y way possible. Still wrapped in a towel, she smirked as she applied toothpaste to the brush, her large hands dwarfing both the brush and tube of Colgate completely. She loved that she had him so naked and vulnerable, standing nearby, trying to avert his eyes from the sight of her towering, hourglass body. Trying, and mostly failing. Haha he can barely even function.

After letting him gawk for a bit, Melissa motioned him closer, her eyes twinkling. "Now, open wide!" she sang, moving the toothbrush toward him. "I want to make sure my little man’s teeth are all clean and shiny for the day. We can't have you going around with syrup breath, can we?"

Dr. J blushed, barely able to contain his embarrassment and mumbling, "I can...I can do this, really." There had, admittedly, been times when he’d borrowed her toothbrush, nights that he’d been staying at her- well, her mom’s place really, but she’d never wanted to-

The mischievous glint in Melissa’s eye never faded, though she smiled as sweet as ever. "Oh, I know you can, sweetie," she said encouragingly, cupping his chin gently, "but I love helping you. It's my- what do you call it? My love language. Well, actually, a lot of things are my love language haha. But you like it okay, don't you?"

Before he could respond, she began brushing his teeth, humming a light tune as she worked. Her hand moved with exaggerated care, her breasts jiggling slightly over the top of her towel as she leaned over him. Dr. J felt a mix of humiliation and a strange comfort in - despite her enormous size - how tender she could be. Even if he knew that this basic task of brushing his teeth was a way for her to express her control and her authority, it was still nice to be pampered, doted on like this. Some might say coddled..

"Good boy," she murmured between strokes, "You've got such a nice smile. I want to take care of this smile for the rest of your life." Melissa's voice was soft but firm, the words settling into him like a permanent promise, and giving him a vision of his future.

He couldn't help but feel a surge of embarrassment. Was this his life now? Being brushed and bathed, toileted and tended to like a child? And yet, something in Melissa's warm tone, in the way she caressed his cheek, made it hard to want to resist.

"You're doing so well, baby," she cooed, her fingers pushing a lock of his hair back affectionately, "I bet you like it when I take care of you like this, huh? Admit it."

Dr. J's cheeks flushed even redder, and he grumbled something around the toothbrush. Drool and foam were gathered shamelessly at the corners of his mouth.

Melissa giggled. "Aww, you don't even have to say it," she teased, "I can see it in your eyes!” And I can almost read it in your mind. “Besides, I love taking care of my little man, and l've gotta make sure he looks, like, perfect."

Finally, after a thorough brushing, she <booped!> his nose playfully. "There!" she declared with a satisfied grin. "All done. Now I can take you out looking all cute and perfect with that fresh shiny smile of yours. Now, spit." She urged him to lean down (he didn’t have to lean that far) into the sink.

“Ptooo!!” he spit.

“Some water?”

“<cough> P-please.”

She turned on the tap, cold, and with two big, cupped hands she gathered him water from it. She offered it to him.

He glanced up at her, and sucked it into his mouth right from her cupped hands. Swirling, he rinsed and spit.

“Good boy,” she praised.

With Dr. J's teeth sparkling and his discomfort rising, Melissa moved on without hesitation. She placed a hand on his shoulder, lowered the seat of the toilet, and urged him to have a seat.

"You've got a bit of stubble today," she remarked, cupping his chin and eyeing it with a playful glint. “Looks like my little man is trying to be all grown up! But don't worry, l'll take care of that."

Dr. J felt a knot form in his stomach feeling more and more emasculated by the minute.  "I-"

Melissa giggled softly, towering over him and quieting his protests as she looked around for a razor. "Oh, I'm sure it's not too hard for you," she said with a wink, "But why would I let you? I've got the steady hands here. We don't want you cutting that handsome little face, do we?"

She rifled through his cheap medicine cabinet, found the shaving cream and a disposable razor. She wet his face with another handful of water - playfully splashing it onto him with a giggle, making him laugh as well - and then, more tenderly, she lathered shaving cream onto his face. Her touch was gentle but there was an unmistakable firmness to it, as if she wanted to make clear whose moment this really was. Next, she dipped the razor in warm water, cupped his chin again, and went to work.

The razor slid down his left cheek, nice and smooth. She cleaned it off, and, again, down the left, and then again. Each stroke of the razor was slow and deliberate. Her fingers held his chin with a delicate yet unyielding grip, ensuring that he stayed still as she worked. She made soft, soothing noises between strokes, as though she were caring for a fragile child rather than a grown man, and with every stroke he looked more the part.

“You know, I’ve never done this to a guy before,” she admitted, peering down her nose, scrutinizing her work on his left cheek. “Just to my legs.”

“Hmm, is that supposed to make me feel better? Or worse?” he cracked, finding his sense of humor, at least for the moment, as dry as it was. He watched as she rinsed the razor again.

“Well, really, you're my first real boyfriend,” she disclosed, “Or, at least the first one I could do stuff like this with. So maybe that makes you feel…better? Tilt your chin up for me…”

That startled him, a bit. He’d known, he guessed, that she’d never had a real serious romance before. But it was still kind of a shock to hear. A girl like melissa? You’d figure she’d had guys falling all over her since middle school. 

He tilted his chin, exposed his neck. 

“But then again, maybe you should be worried ‘cuz that means I haven’t had any practice shaving,” she continued, as she moved the razor down to his neck, “well, around throats I mean.”

Startled again, he was, as she set to his jugular. Haa…Sh-she’s on her meds, right?

“Just trust me, okay?” Melissa cooed, sensing his sudden fight-or-flight, “I won't let anything happen to you."

“Okay,” he muttered, his voice a barely audible mixture of gratitude and vulnerability, “I trust you.”

She continued to shave him, deftly enough, even his neck. Lately, his stubble seemed lighter than it had ever been, at least since he was a teen. Maybe another symptom of whatever was wrong with him - is wrong even the right word to use anymore? Anyway, the shave up his throat was smooth, not rough.

"You're like a little doll, Jay," Melissa whispered, scraping away the cream with smooth, confident passes up each side of his throat, before moving on to his right cheek. "I get to make sure you look all smooth and clean. Allll nice and cute for me…”

He looked up at her, once again marveling at her bosomy beauty. She smelled so nice... 

"There we go," she said softly, wiping away a bit of excess shaving cream off an earlobe, well aware of his admiring gaze. "You're looking even cuter now. My little man. My little Pumpkin Pie. You always let me take such good care of you, don't you?"

Dr. J's eyes fluttered closed as she ran a warm, wet cloth over his freshly shaven skin, cleaning him up. His words bubbled forth, finally, as he couldn’t help but luxuriate in the pampering. “Y-yes M-M-Muh-Muhlissa.” He could feel it. He could feel his own dependence on her growing with every act of care, like having his face shaved for him. It was a strange sensation that left him both unsettled and oddly comforted. Should he fight it? I don’t have the strength and, he thought, I don’t really want to. 

Satisfied that she’d cleaned him of every last bit of shaving foam, Melissa leaned down and planted a gentle kiss on his cheek. "There! Smooth as a baby, and just as helpless," she teased, her voice dripping with affection. She kissed him again. "I could just kiss you all day now, but we've got more to do."

To that, he cocked his head. 

She giggled. 

The tenderness of Melissa's care made each small act intimate, and both of them realized she was blurring out the lines between affection and control. Each touch, each teasing word, reinforced her dominance over him in a way that felt both inevitable and soothing. She was taking them further down the path she’d chosen, leaving the old world behind, and entering a new one. And her chorus of giggles made it all seem to be coming from the hands of an overgrown girl. A tall, gorgeous, dangerously powerful girl that could bend steel, hear a pin drop from across a room, and probably blow the walls out from his cheap little apartment with a sneeze. 

Melissa, with her usual playfulness, bit her lip and bounced on her toes, taking a cue from his silly little thoughts. The tiny bathroom around them shook, the floor groaning, and the mirror threatening to come off the wall. She glanced down at him, her eyes twinkling, commanding his attention while his world threatened to fall in around him. His eyes were stuck to hers like magnets, and she could see that he was a little nervous. Haha good. As quickly as it started, her private little earthquake stopped. "Well, we can't spend the whole day naked. We've got things to do."

Dr. J's brow furrowed slightly in confusion as his world stabilized. "Wait, what…sort of things?" he asked, his curiosity piqued and only now realizing she had plans for their day.

"Oh, it's a treat for me," Melissa said with a mischievous glint in her eyes, as she turned and walked from the bathroom, "and there might be a little bit of a surprise for you too."

He was drawn in to the swing of her behind, swaying like the Liberty Bell in her too tight, too small towel as it pendulemed the wobble of its way toward the small bedroom closet in his apartment.  Even barefoot, without the lascivious embellishment of high heels, her walk alone was nearly pornographic. Struck dumb by the sight, he stood, and followed after her. She was rummaging around, saying something about clothes she had downstairs, but it would be unladylike for her to go  down there in just her boyfriend's tiny little towel. "I don’t know if I have any clothes her-... oh, wait!" She pulled out an old pair of jeans she had stashed away, on a high shelf. "Found these!" she chirped.

Holding them up, she wondered briefly if they'd still fit. These jeans were from a couple weeks ago, back when she was haha a bit smaller in the- haha - butt. Her eyes flicked over to the crumpled gala dress draped over the kitchen chair. She could always throw that back on but the thought of squeezing into it now didn't appeal to her at all. With a shrug, she decided to try and paint on the jeans.

Dr. J watched as Melissa found her panties, dropped her towel and started to work the clothes up her hips. The underwear, and then - with some effort - the jeans, made it up her shapely legs, and then, finally, she was tugging at the jeans’ waistband, wriggling her hips into them. Her face was scrunched with determination. "Oof, these are- mmmf! - tighter than I remember," she giggled, hopping up and down slightly as she tried to squeeze her bottom into the denim. The floor shook again, but this time a little more unintentionally. 

“Don’t…hurt yourself…” he said with actual concern as pots, pans, and silverware bounced loudly in the kitchen while white plumes of plaster began to fall from the ceiling, “…or the apartment.” Despite the new mini-earthquake, Dr. J's eyes were rapt, fixed on her jiggles as she struggled with the jeans, his mind half in awe, half in disbelief at how much she'd grown, and how heavy she must be. The jeans, which had once fit her snugly but comfortably, now clung to her body like a second skin, molding tightly around her hips and thighs, outlining every curve and muscle. Her legs, while always big, were now thicker, more muscular, straining the fabric as if any sudden movement might rip the seams apart.

Melissa gave one last tug, careful not to flex too hard, as she finally managed to button her old jeans up. Though the waistband dug a bit into her hips, it was mission accomplished. She grinned down at him triumphantly. "Well, that was a workout!" she said, patting her hips, "But I'm in."

He was lost in how her jeans hugged her body: her powerful thighs bulging beneath the stretched material, and the way they barely contained her hips. Melissa watched his face flush slightly as he realized just how small those jeans looked on her now. They emphasized the dramatic changes in her figure by their tightness, and made clear how much taller she’d gotten by how high the cuffs rode up her ankles. She was proud of her growth, tickled pink by his reaction, and wished she could take a picture of his face right now.

"Now, I just need a top," Melissa said with a casual shrug, glancing at his dresser. In the wall mirror she eyed her reflection briefly, a quick pose, noting her exaggerated curves in the too-tight jeans. She grinned. "Oh,” she said, bringing her fingers to her chin in thought, “and I don’t have a bra here ~either~." Her tone seemed playfully childish as she spoke, as if to herself, before catching his eyes in the mirror with a knowing smirk. She was currently topless, and his stare was delicious. “I hope you don’t mind. It’s just still we get downstairs.”  

A mischievous glint flashed across her face as she moved toward the dresser, humming softly. This’ll be a good chance to show him something. She pulled open one of the drawers, her fingers rifling through his neatly folded clothes. "Hmm…Let's see..." she mused aloud, finally pulling out a worn, white t-shirt, "How about I borrow something of yours today?"

Dr. J looked up at her in confusion. "Something of mine?” The shirt she’d picked was an old rock-band tee, a favorite of Dr. J's - and one his ex-wife Sheryl used to wear around, too, on lazy days at home or to bed. It was soft and stretched out, a relic of when he was younger, taller, and everything about him had been bigger.

Everything about him was so much smaller now.

Except for the one thing, he thought, cursing how already he was starting to twitch again in the loins, that’s just as big as it ever was. He’d lost nary an inch there, and just being in the same room as Melissa now made his refractory time close to zero. He was still naked; he was sure she’d notice what was happening. 

Melissa held up the shirt, her eyes twinkling with amusement as she pretended not to see his growing boner. "Yeah, this one!" she chirped, inspecting it with a growing smile.

"That's...that's probably not going to fit you," he muttered, though the absurdity of the situation made his voice falter. He pictured how Sheryl used to look in it, so many years ago. It was oversized on her, for sure. But the thought of Melissa trying to squeeze her enormous chest into it was absurd. 

Undaunted, though, Melissa was already pulling it over her head. The fabric was stretching and straining immediately, aided abd abetted by the stretchiness of age as it struggled to envelop her monumental torso. The t-shirt, once comfortable on him and loose on Sheryl, clung tightly to Melissa, highlighting her curves dramatically. The text and image on the front, a band logo, were now distorted nearly beyond recognition, stretched taut over the jutting swell of her chest. The hem wasn't even close to reaching her hips, stopping just above her midriff, exposing a good deal of her toned abs.

Melissa glanced down at herself, shooting her boyfriend a funny sideways glance and giving the shirt a playful tug. "Oops," she giggled, though her tone was anything but apologetic, "Looks like it's a little snug."

Dr. J swallowed hard, his eyes trailing over the sight of the shirt hugging her brobdingnagian chest and ultra-fit shoulders, his thoughts swirling with a mix of awe and disbelief. He remembered how the fabric used to drape over Sheryl’s frame, how on him it felt normal, even a little loose. Now, it seemed like a child's garment on Melissa's towering, muscular, ultra-womanly body.

She gave a little twirl, the fabric tested even more as she moved and her bare bosom wobbled inside it to tear new stretch-marks and strain seams, forever marking it with her body. "What do you think?" she teased, flexing her arms slightly and causing the sleeves to constrict around her triceps. "You like it on me?" She pushed out her chest, glanced at herself in the mirror. Jeez look at my knockers. 

Her smile twisted, catching his face in the mirror, completely agog. You too, Jay…look at them.

His throat tightened. "It's... um... it's tight," he managed to say, his voice barely above a whisper.

Melissa's grin widened, her eyes gleaming with playful mischief. "Yeah, just a bit," she said with a wink, her excitement bubbling beneath the surface. "It's funny, though... this used to fit you, right? Back when you were a little bigger?"

Dr. J felt a knot form in his stomach. "Yeah," he admitted softly, his voice barely audible, “and Sheryl used to wear it to bed…back when we were…you know…”

Married? Her smile widened. Perfect, Melissa thought, I’m guessing little wifey didn’t look anything like this in it. The shirt, she figured, had probably once been a symbol of comfort in their home. Now it was a glaring reminder of how small he and his skinny ex-wife had become in comparison to her. She liked that idea, and thought briefly about trying to tear out of it with a mighty flex and a big deep breath, to prove just how weak it was and how she was now the biggest thing in his life,. 

Then, though, Melissa's eyes softened, sensing his sudden unease. She didn't want to push him too far, not yet anyway. Sheryl was no longer a threat to her, and it was already outrageously clear how much bigger she was than he had ever been, But the thrill of outgrowing him, of wearing his old clothes like this, was still too tantalizing to completely ignore. "You know," she said gently, walking over to him, circling around so her towering form blocked the morning sunbeams from streaming through the apartment’s  single window, casting her huge shadow over him, "It's kinda cute that I can wear your clothes now. I like it. It's like l'm wearing a piece of you on me."

She dropped down to a crouch in front of him, her head framed by the morning light as her massive frame dwarfed his, even as she brought herself closer to eye level. The size dynamic between them was palpable, an unspoken force that Melissa was learning to exert. "You know, this shirt," she said smiling as she ran a hand down her bosom, along the stretched fabric, "it might be tight on me, but I think it looks nice don't you?" She could feel her nipples hardening beneath it; he probably saw them too. 

Dr. J's heart raced with a mixture of awe and discomfort. He could feel her excitement, her growing arousal, threatening to sweep her away again, but the affection in her eyes kept him grounded. "I guess...it does," he answered, struggling to keep his voice steady.

Melissa glanced at him, then down at her chest, chuckling softly. "But you can hardly read the band name anymore," she said, tracing a finger over the distorted logo. "Who is it?"

“It’s, uh, Blue Öyster Cult.”

Melissa giggled, her face twisting adorably. "That's a weird name for a band," she said. 

“Yeah they broke up before you were even born.”

She looked at him again, wistfully trying to see the history, knowing he’d had a long life before he’d ever met her. She giggled, leaned in, and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. "Don't worry, Jay," she whispered tenderly, though her voice was filled with that same thrilled energy, "I’ll try not to ruin your little old shirt."

As she stood up again, towering over him and blocking the sun again, she took a moment to stretch her arms over her head, causing the hem of the shirt to ride up even further, exposing not only more of her soft but toned midriff, but also a good deal of underboob...

“uuurk.”

"And hey," she added with a teasing grin, having heard whatever noise that was, "now that I think about it, all your old shirts are too big for you. As your girlfriend, I guess they’re mine now."

Dr. J watched her, feeling a strange mix of helplessness and admiration. She was claiming up every part of his life, both past and present, bit-by-bit, and was enjoying every second of it, relishing in this new dynamic. He couldn't deny the thrill he felt as everything in his world grew larger and larger, while his size, and sense of control over his own life, continued to shrink..

She looked down at him, her lips curling into a soft smile. "Come on," she said, leading him over to the kitchen chair, still draped with her glittery gala dress, “Let me fix your hair before we head out.”

“But…I still don’t have any clothes on…”

Melissa giggled. “That’s okay by me.” She was keeping him naked, purposefully. She enjoyed the contrast, and the way it made her feel. Left naked and exposed, his mind would be kept feeling naked and exposed as well, vulnerable, while she stood over him tall, strong, and fully clothed. It gave her a little thrill she kept to herself, acting as a small way to demonstrate and reinforce how things were for him now.

Dr. J sat down, shifting slightly as Melissa moved behind him, her towering form a gentle, looming presence. She grabbed a comb from the bathroom, her large fingers easily dwarfing the small tool, and began to gently brush through his hair. The contrast of her size and strength, compared to the careful and delicate care she took with him, made the moment all the more intimate.

"You’ve got such soft hair, Jay," she said softly, smiling as she worked the comb through his still-damp locks, taking in the smell of his shampoo, “I love taking care of it.”

He fidgeted slightly in the chair, feeling the tenderness of her touch and her warm breath on his neck. He felt comforted and safe in her hands, but he couldn't ignore a growing sense of embarrassment. "You don’t have to do this either, Melissa," he mumbled. He really didn’t comb his hair a lot, anyway. 

Melissa chuckled, her voice light and soothing. "Oh, you stop it!" she laughed. “I want to do it, and you’re mine to take care of. I like making you look nice. Let me spoil you a little bit.”

He sat still, and resigned himself to her doting care, as Melissa brushed his hair with slow, deliberate strokes. Occasionally, she would ruffle his hair playfully, then smooth it back down, admiring her handiwork as she tended to him. She was enjoying every moment, taking pride in how much she could influence even the smallest details of his appearance.

“You’re like my little project, you know?" she said, smiling to herself, "I get to make you look all cute and neat. Maybe I’ll start styling your hair every day. Wouldn’t that be fun?”

Dr. J’s face went red with embarrassment. "Melissa, I’m not a-"

“Not a doll, huh?” Melissa teased, cutting him off, “Oh, I dunno…” She paused, her eyes sparkling with an idea as she twirled the small comb in her hand. “Look at this,” she said, holding up her free hand next to his, as she crouched down beside him. Comparing their sizes, Melissa couldn’t help but giggle in delight. “I know, I’ve always had big hands, but now, they’re practically twice the size of yours!"

She pressed her palm gently, but firmly against his, stretching her fingers wide to emphasize the difference. Her hand completely dwarfed his, her fingers thicker and longer, easily wrapping around his much smaller ones. “Compared to mine your hands certainly look like doll hands, don't they?”

Watching his flabbergasted consternation, Melissa’s face lit up with a mix of amusement and fascination. "You used to be able to hold my hand and it felt normal," she continued, more thoughtfully, her fingers threading through his, gripping gently, giving him a quick little squeeze. Her large hand easily engulfed his, making the contrast between them all the more striking. "Now, it feels like…  I’m holding a doll's hand, or a child’s.” Melissa cocked her head, playfully tapping her finger on her lips and stared at him, as if deep in thought. “Maybe you are turning into a doll. My doll." Or, maybe, even haha…my child. 

With a flirtatious grin, she brought their interlocked hands up to her lips, pressing a tender kiss into his knuckles, before taking him all in, watching his reactions with a satisfied gleam in her eye. "Isn’t it funny how things change?" she mused softly. "I know it can be scary sometimes…but I love it. I love how tiny your hand is in mine. It makes me feel so…” She paused, catching herself. "...so protective," she finished, though the thought running through her mind was more intimate, more maternal: it makes me feel like your mom. 

She slowly rose again, gently letting go of his hand to finish her task. As she finished attentively combing through his hair, she took a moment to step back and admire her work. Her eyes gleamed with satisfaction, the light from the small kitchen window catching her smile, and making her glow with the pride she had in her work. 

“There!” she announced, reaching down to brush a small lock of hair into place, “Now you’re all set.” She planted her hands confidently on her broad hips. “You’ve got the cutest hair in town. No one can resist you now. I think you might even be too handsome for your own good.”

Dr. J glanced up at her, his face still red with embarrassment as he tried to steady himself. Despite all the awkwardness, there was something undeniably comforting in being smothered by Melissa's attention. It was something that made him feel safe - even if that safety came with the growing realization of how much he was allowing himself to rely on her.

Melissa drew close, brushing a gentle kiss against his forehead. "Come on," she whispered, her voice soft but full of affection. "We've got so much to do today, and I want you looking perfect for it."

Finally, accepting that she couldn’t keep him naked all day, Melissa turned to his small closet with another playful hum, her large hands flipping through his shirts and pants. She knew he stood there feeling a bit awkward, but also captivated by her enthusiasm (and the sight of her big butt) as she searched for something suitable.

“Hmmm," Melissa pondered aloud, her lips curling into a teasing smile. "What should we put you in today? Something cute? Something cozy?" She glanced over her shoulder at him, her eyes glinting mischievously, She caught him staring at her from his seat in the kitchenette. Good boy. “Maybe I should just wrap you up in a little blanket and carry you around like a baby…”

Dr. J’s face flushed, again, immediately turning a bright red, and  shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Melissa...c’mon," he murmured, his voice pleading with her through the embarrassment.

Melissa giggled, waving a hand. “Oh, you silly! I’m just kidding! But, I do want to make sure you stay nice and warm, and that you look adorable.” Melissa's mind wandered to how they’d be outside soon, walking to their destination, and that he’d definitely need something warm. Honestly, he’ll be adorable in anything. 

With that thought bouncing through her mind, Melissa reached into the closet and pulled out a red flannel shirt that was clearly way too big for him. Holding it up, she raised an eyebrow. “Oops,” she said with a smirk, “Not that one.” She eyed it again. “But, you know, it’s really cute. It might fit me, I like it. I’m keeping it.” 

She threw the shirt onto the bed. 

“How about this one?” she asked, holding a long-sleeved blue polo. “Nope too big. This one? Nope, same. This one? Hmm…”

Melissa suddenly felt a tingle. Sensing something, she turned around. He was more red now, and starting to shiver. Awww he’s getting cold. 

“…I guess we need to get you some smaller clothes, and soon,” she said, then, adding quickly with a wave of her hand, “C’mere, hun. Why didn't you say something? You’re shivering.” 

Dr. J clambered off the chair, and went to her. As soon as he was within her reach, she put her arms out and wrapped them around his head, hugging him to her belly. She let him warm up for a while but knew she had to get him in some clothes soon. “Here, let me find you something that might actually fit.”

She began looking for the smallest stuff he had, picking through his wardrobe with a more careful eye.  Finally, she picked out a simple but neat little ensemble for him - a button-up shirt, trousers, and a nice thick sweater, since the November chill might try and get to him. Not on my watch!

Her fingers glided slowly over the fabric of his clothes, and she laughed softly at how big some of them still were despite his recent shrinkage. “Yeah, we really need to go shopping for you soon. Maybe the girls would like to help?”  Her tone was light and casual, but he could sense an undertone of excitement in it. " For now, though, this should do."

Melissa took a large step toward him, holding up the shirt she had chosen. “Let me help you with this,” she said sweetly, already moving to assist him before he had a chance to respond. "We don’t want you struggling with all those buttons. Let me…”

“I can button my own shirt…” Dr. J tried to protest, but it was half-hearted.

“Oh, I know you probably could if you tried,” she replied, smiling warmly at him, “But baby, I like doing it for you. I like knowing you’re all dressed and neat because I took care of you.” How many times am I going to have to tell you these things?

Her hands moved with slow, deliberate care, gently pulling the fabric over his thin shoulders and beginning to button the shirt for him. As her large fingers expertly worked their way down, fastening each button with a casual ease, Melissa occasionally glanced down at him, her eyes filled with warmth and something deeper - an unspoken assertion of her role in his life, a mix of care and quiet dominance.

“There we go,” she said softly, smoothing down the front as she finished with his shirt, “Now for the sweater.” She reached for the navy blue cable knit she’d put aside. “Arms up,”  she directed, and, with no complaint from him, she slipped the sweater down onto him. It was, honestly, all too big on him. But it’ll have to do. “Okay, mister. All dressed and handsome. You look perfect.”

Dr. J swallowed hard, feeling the tender weight of her words. Her touch, gentle but authoritative, and the way she looked at him - so proud, so content - made him feel cared for in a way that was difficult to articulate. 

if I didn’t feel like her doll before, I totally do now. 

With a playful smile, Melissa reached down to adjust his collar, smoothing it out with meticulous care. Satisfied, she then pulled on his underwear, and fussed over his pants, pulling them into place, loose everywhere but his crotch, and she took her time making sure everything was neat. Her hands lingered on his waist for a moment, and admired how she’d positioned his half-boner so expertly that it could scarcely be seen. She couldn’t resist teasing him a little.

"You know," she mused, her voice light but teasing, “I bet everyone will think a woman dressed you.”

“Yeah, uh, well, one did.”

“And isn’t that how it should be?” she giggled, stepping back to admire her work, her eyes, once again, gleaming with a funny glint. “Women are just better at everything, don’t you think?”

Dr. J hesitated, unsure how to respond. The earnestness he heard in her words, and the matter-of-fact  way in which she said them, made him realize just how deeply the dynamic between the two of them had shifted. His mind raced with thoughts of how much more dependent on her he was becoming, and just how dangerous that was, but before he could dwell on it too long, Melissa gave him a playful pat on the shoulder.

“Come on, admit it,” she said with a wink, leaning in to bring her face just a few inches from his, “you’re glad you’ve got a woman to help pick out your clothes and dress you, aren’t you?”

Caught a bit off guard, he blinked up at her. Her face was huge. “I…I guess,” he said, his voice small, but there was a warmth Melissa could hear behind his words, a quiet acknowledgment of just how much she had taken over every aspect of his life, and how much he accepted it.

Melissa’s smile widened, eyes twinkling as she leaned in further and kissed him softly on the cheek. "Good boy," she whispered, her tone tender and affectionate before turning back to a tease again, "You're so lucky to have me."

She giggled, booped him on the nose, then stood straight and coquettishly kicked up one bare foot behind herself. Her excitement, brewed from last night and now bubbling over for the day ahead, was infectious. He had to smile, and she obviously couldn’t wait to take him out: the Amazon from Far Horizons with her small, neatly dressed man by her side.

“Now, let’s get your shoes on,” she said with a playful grin, putting her big hand in his chest and pushing him back - making him backpedal three steps - to sit on the end of the bed.

“Ooof,” he ooofed. 

Melissa could feel the mix of emotions he was swimming in as she knelt in front of him. She had already picked out his socks for him, and was sliding them onto him, before reaching for a pair of shoes she’d liked from the closet. They were small, practical sneakers that had been serving him well since one of the girls had picked them up for him last week. They’re probably too big for him now, she thought, her eyes alight with dark excitement. 

Melissa gathered her resolve and hummed softly to herself as she pulled the shoes closer, smiling up at him with that familiar, playful glint in her eye. "Let me help you with your sneakers, too, baby. I want to make sure they’re all comfy before we go out. Can’t have you tripping over your laces."

Dr. J shifted slightly in the gentle weight of her words as he sat on the edge of the mattress and felt himself hardening down his pant leg, “Melissa, I can put on my own shoes…”

There he goes again. 

“Oh, I’m sure you can,” she replied with a patient grin, her voice soft but full of eagerness, “But…why? When I can make sure they’re perfect? Besides, I love taking care of all the, like, little things for you. And these feet…”

She took hold of his right foot in her right hand. 

“…these feet are such little things.”

With that, her left hand deftly grabbed one of his sneakers. But then she paused, as if a sudden idea struck her, and she put it down on the floor and reached behind herself to grab one of her own shoes, from the pair she had worn to the gala last night.An elegant, high-heeled pump, custom-made and reinforced with titanium to support her growing weight and size. She set it down next to his sneaker, and the difference was startling. Jay’s size-5 shoe, small and practical, looked childlike next to the towering elegance of her Size-15 pump. Melissa's shoe was massive, adult, and exuded a sense of dominance, while his looked like something a nerdy preteen might wear.

"Look at this, Jay," she said with a sly smile, nudging her pump closer to his sneaker. "I could probably fit two of your feet in one of my shoes now."

“Let’s…not,” he managed, just able to speak as he pictured himself tottering around in her pumps. The comparison of the two shoes was almost too much for him to process. Dr. J stared at the two shoes side by side, unable to ignore how drastic the difference had become in just a matter of months. 

Melissa, always playful but mindful, didn’t miss a beat when it came to his feelings. Again she picked up his right foot, and slipped on the first sneaker with ease, her large hands wrapping around it to tie the laces. Her fingers moved with graceful precision, looping the laces quickly but carefully. Omigosh they are too big for him. 

“These little shoes are so cute,” she cooed, looking up at him as she finished,unable to stop herself from comparing their sizes. "Mine, though... well, they're made for someone very big, very tall, very heavy, someone who weighs enough to take care of everything." She smiled. “Someone with big feet.”

Her words hung in the air as she sat, bringing her butt to the floor, while resting her hand on her own massive foot. The playful glimmer in her eyes flashed. "It's kind of funny, isn't it? You actually used to be bigger than me. But now I'm bigger everywhere."

Without waiting for a reply, she stretched out her leg, placing her bare foot next to his. First, near where it dangled just above the floor, and then sole-to-sole. The difference was striking. Her foot completely dwarfed his. The broadness of her sole, the thickness of her toes, everything about her foot seemed to radiate strength and power, while his looked delicate, even fragile by comparison. She noticed how Jay couldn’t help but stare down at the sight, feeling a strange mixture of awe and quiet discomfort as her playful dominance reminded him of just how much had changed between them.

Melissa flashed him a grin, clearly soaking in the moment. She could see the emotions playing out on his face, the disbelief, the humiliation, the fascination. And, though she reveled in it, she also wanted to be sensitive to his state of mind, and not squish his confidence too early today.  

Scootching back closer to him, legs tucked underneath herself, Melissa moved on to his second shoe. Her hands continued to work with love and care, her large fingers tying the laces methodically, treating the task with the same attention to detail she gave to everything about him. There was a tenderness in her movements, a softness that belied the sheer strength and other powers she possessed.

“There we go," she said with a soft, satisfied smile, finishing up. "All done. You’re ready to go now, baby. You can always count on me to take care of the little things.” She squeezed the toes of his sneakers with affection noticing the extra room left inside. 

She looked up at him, her eyes brimming. There was something deep in the gaze that connected them - a silent acknowledgment of what these size comparisons really meant. They weren’t just about height or feet, the size of a shirt or a palm against fingers. They were about power, control, and the way Melissa’s size afforded her a kind of dominance that extended far beyond the physical.

Melissa shuddered. She delighted in her budding role as his caretaker, but there was no denying the thrill that came from her physical superiority over him. It turned her on. She loved being able to dress him, fix his hair, brush his teeth - and now, even his shoes were a reminder of how much bigger she was. She wanted to hold whole parts of him in her hand. The thought made her gush between her thighs, and she knew that Jay - though he was grappling with his own feelings - would deal with his gradual submission. He would start to realize how much he relied on her. The physical comparisons were a constant reminder of the shift in their dynamic, a shift that made him feel smaller and smaller. And she that, deep down, he liked it. We’re going to do this a lot more often, she resolved, and felt herself shiver again. 

Melissa, her eyes crawling hungrily down his whole body, from head to toe, decided that these morning activities - this routine - would become a part of their daily life. Moments like this, where Jay surrendered himself fully to her care, made him learn to rely on her more deeply, accepting her nurturing strength as an essential part of their relationship.

One huge hand, suddenly, couldn’t control itself. It grabbed his thigh. It felt how hard he was for her. The other hand found itself up on his chest. It felt how quickly his heart raced for her. One hand squeezed, while the other pushed him onto his back on the bed. Both now came to his fly, his zipper now down in a flash, and were pulling down the pants they had just minutes ago so dutifully pulled up. 

Her mouth was so huge and swallowed him with ease. 

This’ll just take a minute, she said to him with her thoughts, already working his huge, swollen cock with her skilled throat as he groaned and writhed below her. Caught by surprise, his little hands grasped at his cheap little sheets. Once I'm done, then we can start our day.  

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