GITJ Tangent Thread: Seeking Approval, p11 (with audio)

<audio for Mercedes' dialogue available, link here. I might suggest a read-along :) >

Seeking Approval, p11

“H-hi, M-M-...uh, D-DIrector Arroyo…” Sam had answered, obviously struggling with his boss’ name. Mercedes Arroyo, Director of the FDA’s Second Division of the Office of Nonprescription Drugs, smiled back at him through the screen, into the camera of her government-issued laptop. He barely realized it himself, but as soon as he saw her face appear, before she even she spoke her first word to him, the entirety of his world went out of focus and all he could see clearly was her.

“Well, hello bomboncita,” she purred, letting her smile curl just enough like a cat’s to make Sam immediately feel like a canary, “it’s so nice to see you…but please, sweetie, don’t call me that. ‘Director’. We’re friends, right?”

“O-okay…” she watched Sam fumble, in reply. Friends haha, she thought; they were already so much more than that. She could see already, even here in videochat, that he wanted to call her another name, the one that she’d asked them to imprint on him, the one that was threatening to slip from the tip of his tongue even now, already. So far he was able to resist, but we’ll get there haha, she thought, as she pulled down - just an inch or two for now -  on the zipper of her thinly tight, black workout jacket. The sports top she had on underneath showed a great amount of cleavage and would be perfect for this. She wore a thin chain of delicate silver which would draw his eye where she wanted it.

She saw Sam’s eyes goggle already. “S-so, uh…Wh-what should I…” he began, dutifully, visibly trying to gather himself, “w-what should I call you, Ma’am?” Around her, on his phone screen, there seemed to be a strange, ethereal halo. Must be some trick of the light.

‘Ma’am’? That's close haha. “You’ll think of something, Sam, something else you want to call me,” she answered, her chest swelling already with confidence as she took a moment to push some papers out of the way, stacking them just so aside herself on her living-room area desk. She glanced down at herself, looked at the small window on her screen which showed how she’d look to him. A perfect angle; her bust dominated the view.

Mercedes Alvarez Morales Arroyo’s family had immigrated into the states when she was 13. She had spent her teens as an off-the-boat party girl in Miami, but had eventually made it to study government relations at university in Virginia. Hard work and short enough skirts had landed her a job at the FDA where she’d found herself climbing ladders and now the boss of little American men like Sam, here. Many of them had been older, well-experienced men. Some were previously her superiors. She loved to make them all nervous.

She giggled.

“So, still in bed, bomboncita?” she asked, using the pet name she had for him and leaning in towards the camera of her laptop, elbow on the desk, chin in hand. She wanted to make the intimacy immediate, knowing that he was feeling insecure, a little white boy nervous for a video chat with his boss and the latina lujuriosa who’d sucked his cock a couple weeks ago. She wanted to make him comfortable but the growing heat between her gym-toned thighs also wanted to see him squirm. Yes, there was business to talk about but mostly she wanted to put him at ease; she’d been told what they’d done to him - hypnosis, something they called neuroadjustment. She didn’t understand the half of it, really, what they’d done. All she knew was that they’d majorly fucked with his brain and she wanted to see for herself, if she could, over videochat. She wanted him relaxed, open. She wanted to play, and she wanted to know what she’d be getting when he was returned to her.

“Yeah, I’m, uh, really tired I guess,” he replied, shoulders slumping slightly as if he had hit a sudden wall.

“You’ve had a long, hard week, haven’t you?” she purred, indulging him with a voice thick with womanly concern and rich with accent, “I’m so glad you could take some time for yourself and relax. But before you fill me in on how things went, are your headphones on? So you can hear my voice all around you?” Her big, deeply dark eyes flashed.

“Uh…” Sam glanced around; they were on the nightstand.

“Why don’t you put them on, right now,” she instructed, “I don’t want any distractions…” She watched as he inserted an earbud into each ear, wired to his phone. “Good boy…” she purred, immediately seeing in his face, in the fluttering of his eyelids, that the effect that trigger - one of many implanted on Friday by the Neuro team at Evolution - had on him. He liked the sound of her voice. Ooooo…this’ll be fun.

Mercy knew that they should get the work stuff out of the way first. That would make him comfortable, something mundane to discuss, and she looked into the camera, eyes locked on his, nodding and encouraging him as he began to describe his days of investigation at Evolution Pharmaceuticals. “Mmmhm, yes, good,” she purred, as he spoke to her, haltingly, about what he’d been doing. He was doing his best, looking into his little phone, to not glance down at her chest.

Like a litany, he explained how he’d been checking their scientific data, making sure all of their studies were conducted properly and the information was recorded faithfully. He’d looked at the formula and took random samples, sent them to FDA labs to make sure that what they say is in the product is what's actually in the product. He’d toured the factory floor and ensured the manufacturing process had the necessary safeguards against tampering, cameras on the lines, all that. He’d asked for background checks for workers, quality control protocols, and made sure that there would be random testing procedures; every batch of product sent out would have a few bottles pulled and checked to check for contamination.

“And you’re doing this all yourself?” Mercy asked, knowingly, batting her long, dark eyelashes and watching as his brow immediately furrowed and he stammered out an answer. She knew the intern they’d assigned him as an assistant, Ashleigh, had really been doing most of these duties for him, and she liked how reticent he was to admit it. A man was taking credit for a woman’s work: typical, but she smiled and let it slide. “What a good boy,” she commended him, as he lied to her face about his efforts.

He went on, finally, to describe how he was checking the claims of the manufacturer and making sure they were reasonable, that there was actual evidence in their studies to back up any health benefits they were claiming. That made her smile, and run her hands through her newly thickened hair. Health benefits? she mused, That’s rich.

“…so, uh, yeah,” Sam concluded his report, sitting up as straight as he could in bed “it looks like the product is being produced in a safe and, like, hygienic manner. This next week will be mostly, uh, paperwork…but, uh…” He looked more than a little uncomfortable being naked - albeit under the covers - and talking to his boss, and a confused expression passed over his face. He was wrestling with wanting to tell her something.

Mercedes bit her lower lip and sat up straight, stretching her trim shoulders and giving him a nice idea as to the new size of her chest. She’d grown big, bigger even in this past week since he’d last seen her, and she was sure he couldn’t help but notice the size of her bosom. I'm going to melt this poor boy's brain haha, she thought, swelling with a heady, newfound sense of power as she adjusted her laptop’s camera just so. She tilted her chin up, giving him a nice view of her long, elegant throat.

“…but is it hard, being away? Working such long hours?” she asked, her voice indulgent and knowing, “Are you starting to think you can’t do this anymore? Feeling unsure of yourself?”

For himself, squirming under the thin sheets of his economy hotel bed with an already massive erection, Sam gaped. She’d just struck a chord, tugging a string he didn’t know existed. He was feeling unsure of himself, come to think of it. It was a new sensation, a new uncertainty, one which seemed to have crept into his brain, maybe as he’d slept the weekend away? “Uhhh…” he began, unsure of what he should admit. He really wanted this job, and every ounce of him wanted Ma-…Director Arroyo to think he was doing good work, was confident in his abilities.

“Shhh shhh shhhh…” Mercedes spoke, “It’s okay, don’t worry. You’re getting more afraid, aren’t you? Afraid that you’re not big enough, smart enough, good enough to do what I’ve asked? Afraid that you can’t do it by yourself?” Her skin was already tingling, this is already getting so hot haha. Was she moving too fast? She didn’t want to scare him off, but they’d told her what they’d done to him, the changes they’d made, the way he’d be now. She couldn’t help herself, and pressed on further. “Are you afraid you’re too little?”

Nnnngh that was good, she thought, collecting herself by straightening the pens on her desk. Her eyes were off the screen for the moment, but even so she could not have seen Sam’s right hand sneak down under his sheets. She knew, of course, though, what he was doing.

“I’m here to reassure you, calm you down,” she continued, looking back at him and brushing her long, straight, dark hair back off her chest, over her shoulders, giving him a good view of her breasts. “I know you’re just looking to me for confirmation that you’re okay. I know you feel that I’m the safe place for you and you want my approval,” she said, plainly, “I know what I think means a lot to you, and that you don’t want to disappoint me. Do you want to disappoint me, Sam?”

“N-n-no ma’am…” he squeaked, shaking his head. He couldn’t believe he’d let himself do this, take a video call from his boss while laying naked in bed. So unprofessional, so humiliating. And yet he couldn’t help but stroke himself to her...she was just so beautiful, and his cock felt bigger than ever in his hand. What was wrong with him??

“No, you don’t. You don’t want to disappoint me. Good boy. You want to do a good job for me, make me proud,” she said, as if she was speaking to a child. She smiled at him, knowing how he liked that. “I hear Ashleigh the intern is working out well, though,” she added, “that she’s been…a big help.”

Oh, boy, Sam winced, Ashleigh. He felt bad about their tryst, what went on with the tall redhead on Friday night - even though he was a little unsure of the details himself. He knew it was probably against the rules, an investigator having a personal, romantic relationship with someone from the company under scrutiny, that he should confess it to M-Mercedes. But, laying there, his cock in his own hand, he couldn’t find the strength to tell her. Would she fire him? Would she be…jealous?

“I hear she took you out on Friday, that she’s the one that got you to bed.”

Sam’s eyes went wide - H-how did she…?

“It’s okay, I’m glad you found someone to take care of you,” Mercedes beamed, a tolerant smile dimpling her cheeks after a bit of a giggle, “You’re a young man, you have your needs. Technically she’s not an employee of Evolution, just an unpaid intern. A young girl with, what I hear, quite the figure. I understand, and it won’t be a problem.”

Sam’s body nearly shook with the relief. I’m so glad she’s not mad at me.

“There. Does that make you feel better?” Mercedes asked, “But, remember - when you come home it'll be me that's here for you. You’ll be all mine again. Mine.” She watched as his eyes fluttered, as she all but claimed ownership of him; he - haha - liked that idea. This hypnosis thing is soooo good, she marveled. “I can’t wait to explore what we started. How ‘bout you…mi pequeño bebe?”

Mercedes knew she was lucky, being chosen to be one in an elite group of women who were on both Program and Product. She knew she was fortunate. She’d been hand-picked for the movement several years ago because of her - at that time - relatively low-grade but strategic position at the FDA, chosen by higher powers that - if the polls were right - would soon be the highest powers and able to reward her with even greater opportunities. But all these opportunities, all these incredible changes - to her body, mind and spirit - they all came with a price. They all came with urges.

“y-y-yes…” he responded, like a good little boy. She decided to reward him, and unzipped her top another eight inches, pressing her chest towards the camera. Beneath she had a revealing, black sports top, and her breasts were very big. Tan, firm, and big. Deep cleavage blossomed onto his screen as her eyes and the upper half of her face disappeared. His jaw visibly dropped, his gaze glassing as a familiar tingle went through his scalp, pleasantly down his spine.

“There you go...do you like that?” she asked, “Do you like looking at my breasts?”

“oh my god…” he whined.

“Mmmm, yesss. I can’t wait to get to know one another, Sam, outside of the office,” she continued, watching as he fell deeper under her spell, predictably hypnotized by her tits, “Yes, I do have some hobbies, besides work. I like to go to the gym, play sports. I used to play field hockey for UVA. I still have my stick, hanging up on the wall behind me, see? I have three cats and five hamsters...you’ll get to know them. Ohh and I love sushi so much haha. I’ll take you out on the town to allll my favorite places.”

Sam was gaping, still staring at her tits but confused. What was she talking about?? This sounded...really serious! Not that it didn’t sound...nnngh... amazing. But...they barely knew one another, really. Was he already her...her boyfriend?

And, yes, there’s her field hockey stick. But is that some of my stuff I see behind her?! In her apartment?!?

Mercedes smiled, allowing him to stare at her chest for a bit, knowing he was stroking himself to her. The thought was…weirdly thrilling, empowering. She had already linked the two of them, she and Sam, with the blowjob in the cheap bar bathroom. She was becoming what they called a Queen, she could feel it already, now that the men in the offices were all gone and she was surrounded by her honey bees. And the idea of her new little drone male debasing himself to her like this? To her? Ooooo….she was just waiting for him to return to her little nest. Then the fun would really start.

She knew they’d used Sam as a sort of guinea pig for the rapid induction method they were developing. The hypnosis, the neuroadjustment, the subliminal imprinting...whatever all that was haha. They’d put him through treatments on Friday night. Not something they planned for a broad rollout, necessarily - too labor intensive, for the common, everyday, rank-and-file swine. But Sam was a perfect subject, and useful to have domesticated. It’d ensure he didn’t overstep throughout the rest of his investigation, or question the judgment or authority of women. They’d made sure he wouldn’t think too much about those Russian files.  Plus, they’d done his adjustments as a favor for her; now he’d be the perfect little worshipful simp for her. In his mind she was now the ultimate woman - more than human, really, and she’d have complete control over how he thought and acted, whether he lived and breathed. He’ll worship the ground she walked on, prostrate himself to her bras, if that’s what she wanted. The thought of it made her quiver.

“Here, let me give you a look around my home,” she said, gathering herself in her excitement as she clicked a few keys and moved the videochat from her laptop to her phone. She stood, phone in hand and picture of him on the screen, and stepped away from the desk to show him around.

Behind her shoulder he saw her brightly-lit, well-appointed apartment, but his eyes were plastered on the jiggles animating her awesome cleavage as she stepped about the room. If he’d been able to tear his attention away from her breasts he may have noticed the box of diapers in the corner. But he couldn’t, and he couldn’t believe that this jiggling sexpot was his boss, and that she liked him.

“Kitchen, dining area, the bathroom’s down there,” she said, walking him about on a little tour, “but let’s go have a seat on the couch, so we can be more intimate.” She held the phone close as she sat down onto her soft, black leather sofa and smiled into the lens. “Palindrome,” she spoke.

Sam shivered.

“D-D-Director Arroyo…?” he stammered, feeling suddenly strange, weirdly different, like the room had just gotten bigger and colder around him. He was confused. What had just happened?

“Now, bomboncita, when we’re alone I don’t want you to use that name for me anymore, ‘Director Arroyo’,” she began, watching him closely as the trigger word she’d just spoke continued to take away his autonomy, “There’s another name you’ve been thinking of, isn’t there, when you look at me? What is it, sweetie? Tell me…”

Sam knew it, the word formed at the back of his throat, and he wanted nothing more than to say it, give it to her. But the shame roiled, and the pride that still held a tenuous grasp on him kept it choked down. His jaw quivered, and he could only stammer, something incoherent.

“Oh, shhhh…shhh. Sweetie, it’s okay,” Mercy cooed, readjusting her position on the couch so he could get a nice view of her chest again, from a bit below, “You’re feeling a bit insecure about being alone, aren’t you?”

Agape - how did she know this?? - Sam nodded.

“Yesss. It’s normal for boys your age, just leaving home, trying to make something of themselves in the world,” she said, slowly, patiently, “it’s a hard time in life. It’s normal to want to return to having someone there to take care of them.”

The word squirmed at the back of his throat, swelling.

“Soon, we’ll be together,” she continued, smiling into the camera. She made sure he could see her eyes, looking at him. But she wanted to also make sure he could see the rest of her. She knew her entire body was a trigger for him, and she began to give him a slow tour. As she spoke she showed him her long, graceful throat, her busty torso. “I know what kind of urges you’re feeling. They started months ago, didn’t they?” She showed him her waist, the tiny waist and shapely Latin hips that had been the envy of friends since she’d been a teen. These leggings showed them off perfectly. “And they’ve been getting stronger and stronger, and now…now. Now they’re impossible to ignore. Well, bomboncita, when you come home to me you won’t have to fight them any longer.”

Sam’s view now was of her wide lap, and he gazed at it until she tilted the camera up, to look at her peering down at him, as if he were cradled there, his head on her curvy thighs.

“I’m going to pick you up from the airport and bring you home, sweetie,” she explained, “You’re going to move in with me.”

“U-uhhh…”

She could sense him balk, wrestling with himself and the last shreds of dignity and self-identity he felt buzzing inside him. She knew his resolve, though, was like an insect, something she could crush under her heel.

“That’s right, honey. It’s for the best,” she pressed, “Do you really feel like you can live alone any more? Take care of yourself?” She watched as his lips quivered, as the anxiety set in. And still, he was stroking himself. “Think. Look at that microwave over there. Do you remember how to use it?”

Oh my god! What have they done to me?!?

And how does she know I have a microwave???

“It’s okay. I won’t mind doing things for you, helping you with everything you’ve forgotten how to do. I’ll be taking care of you. Would you like that?” she asked, and waited for a reply which he didn’t have the strength, yet, to admit, “And, baby, when we’re alone, I won’t mind indulging some of your…deeper instincts.”

Jesus Christ what did she mean?!?

He knew exactly what she meant.

“I don’t mind if you think of me as a mother figure, Sam,” she purred, leaning in so she could peer into his eyes over the swell of her big beasts “And do you? Do you think of me as a mother figure, already? Were you thinking of me that way when I had your cock in my mouth?”

“Omigod n-no…!” he blurted, on instinct, but the thought made him swell harder in his own hand. Sweet lord when did my thingy get so big??

“Oh, shhhh, it’s okay. It’s okay to want to have a woman, your mother, take care of you like that. It’s natural,” she cooed, her voice directly in his ears, in his earbuds, “Imagine...she’s taken you home, she doesn't like how you haven’t been eating. She’s just cooked you a nice meal, fed it to you. She lays you down, takes off your pants...”

“Oh my god…” he moaned, stroking himself in full now, mouth gaping at the big breasts she’s showing him, “muh...muh...muh…”

“That’s right,” she purred, “You know what you want to call me. So go ahead, say it…call me ‘Mami’. Mami…Mommy…mommy…”

The word leaves his throat, in a croak.

“That’s right, good boy. Call me mommy.”

She watched him, she watched his face twist, shake. She watched the shreds of pride and ego flutter and fly away as he jerked off to her, repeated the word.

“Mommy,” she repeated, urging him to continue, “Mommy…”

She let him stroke, she let him beat at himself. She knew, however, because of what they’d done to him, he would not be able to come, that he would not climax, until she said the word, gave the command. Her smile curled. He was ready now but as far as she’d taken him already, she knew she could go further.

“You look thin,” she said, plainly, with mock concern, “Have you eaten anything?”

He felt his brow furrow. The thought of food makes him nauseous, but - yes - he was hun-.

“Aww. Are you hungry? Why don’t you put your thumb in your mouth. Yes…I want to see you suck your thumb for me, baby. Here, take a moment. Set your phone up,” she instructed, “Suck your thumb, and look at my breasts. It’s okay, you can still touch yourself. Set your phone up on your leg. Thumb in your mouth, I’ll do all the talking…”

Mercedes Arroyo’s pride swelled as she watched this man do exactly as she commanded, as he put his thumb into his mouth and began sucking it like an infant as he returned to stroking himself to her beauty. She tossed her hair over her shoulder and held the phone again right in front of her tits. “Look how big they are, baby,” she said, “Are they the same size as your new tall, busty girlfriend’s yet? Oooo but Mami is going to keep growing, baby. She’s going to be even bigger when she sees you next...”

He had begun to groan, and had begun to whine. His climax, she could see, was there, was ready to burst from behind his eyeballs. But she would need to say the word, she would need to tell him when, to give him permission. It pained him, how close it was.

She wanted him to suffer a little more.

“Oh, sweetie, I know...it’s so much,” she spoke, “I want you to relax. Mommy will let you come soon.” She raised the camera for a moment, smiled warmly into it and blew him a kiss, a big, slow, wet <Mwah!> that curled his toes. She wrinkled her nose at him, watching as he began to nearly sob. “Now,” she continued, lowering the camera again to fill his screen with her chest, “I want you to breathe in and out slowly, and listen to my voice. Listen to my voice in your ears and watch me, watch me breathe…”

His eyes were plastered on her tits as, dramatically, she began to draw deep breaths, inflating her chest in and out as she both soothed him and made him feel as if he was about to explode. She knew this was a good chance to mark his growing fixation and psychological dependence on a strong woman and her breasts as an anchor in his life. He would need women, from this moment onwards, even just to breathe.

“That’s right, breathe…” she whispered, “breathe and stroke for me. Stroke for mommy…”

...

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Thank you to the talented DreamGirlfriend for her voice-acting take on Mercedes. Audio is here . 

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