Ninth Interlude

Martin ran between the towering figures around him, doing his best to not be trampled, as he sought his boss. Miss Margaret was quite the demanding woman, and he didn’t want to disappoint her. He had been working with him for the last five years and it was probably the safest and healthiest he had ever been. But the blonde bombshell heading much of the studio’s main emissions, especially the talk shows, was quite demanding, especially when it came to her bagels and coffee. And as her minor helper, it was his duty to deliver it.

“No, no, no!” he heard her bellowing to some poor tech guy, he suspected. “The chair for Matthewson needs to be farther way! Otherwise viewers won’t be able to see my other guests or me!”

Martin chuckled a bit. He suspected that the last bit was what concerned Miss Margaret the most. But he quickly shoved away those thoughts. His boss didn’t always kept him Bonded to her, especially when she was busy organizing her crews, but she certainly liked to so when he expected it the most. And spending most of his waking life Bonded to her since he had started to work for her, it was easier than breathing for her to get into his mind. And when she found something she displeased, he was the one severely punished, no matter the cause of such displeasure.

“Your coffee and bagels Miss Margaret” he chirped once he was near the pear-shaped ass of the MAJOR woman, each cheek more than twice as large as his head.

“Thank your Martin, you’re an angel. By the way, would you mind helping me?”

The minor looked up and, as always, couldn’t see his boss’ face, hidden by her sizeable mounds. He knew that a lot of people assumed that she was just a vapid pair of breasts and ass-cheeks, but he knew better. She took him out of the streets, gave him enough education to be useful to her and had crushed all those who tried to get in her way, fort as long as he had known her, and using her body to blackmail them was never –almost never- her course of action. She simply used the expectations that other placed on her to make them dance on her tunes.

“Uh… sure Miss, but I’ don’t see how I’ll be of any help, really” he replied, as was expected of him.

“Oh, you’re so adorable! But I assure you that you’ll be of a great help. You see, we’ll have a minor guest in the upcoming talk show with Waid and Matthewson. And I wouldn’t want to disrespect him and prevent him from being seen or heard, and I think you’d allow us to make some test. Would you agree? I’ll take you to dinner if you does, treats on me!”

“Uh… sure, sure” said Martin, completely taken aback.

It was new. Miss Margaret had never brought him somewhere to eat. He lived in the same building than her, even if he remained officially a co-worker. He often spent a lot of time working for her, cleaning her apartment, making sure that her clothes were dried and always ready to be used, at any given time. But she didn’t seem to truly care about him, beyond the status he afford her. Having a minor “friend” was a hallmark of an open-minded and progressive person, someone you would want to work for your public image in most Medias today.

“Wonderful! Then, come here, will you?”

The large ass moved away as Miss Margaret started to briskly walk around, uncaring or unwilling to remember that what took her seconds could be a lot longer for Martin. At twenty-six years, he was in good shape, but trying to follow the woman responsible for his well-being was a challenge, with all the MAJORS around failing to notice him, while they moved cameras, cables and projectors around the whole studio, preparing for the next day’s talk show. He was almost trampled twice just to cover the distance between him and the blond giantess who impatiently tapped her right foot on the floor.

“Sorry” he said to her as he reached the place he knew she liked him to be, close enough to not see her face –he had only seen it on screen, really.

“No problem” she replied, sounding as if she had something in her mouth, probably one of the bagels. “But I’ll need you to tell how us how do you think that we should prop a minor guest.”

“Sure. So…” started Martin, passing a hand through his light brown hair. “I think I would put up the Cyclo’s sofa a little further to the back, for starter, and put the chair for the Minor near the table.”

“We can’t really do that, the Matthewson would seems to loom over ME! And it would give the impression that we are biased to our public. Tensions will be running high already, we really can’t afford more bad faith between the guests. Plus, why not put the minor on the table, with his chair?”

“Will he be there for the whole duration of the show?” asked Martin.

“No! Of course no… Oh… clever, really clever Martin!” she said, grazing her hair and Bonding him briefly to let him know she was genuinely pleased with his cleverness. “We can’t put the chair on the table before the show betraying to our audience that we’ll have a minor on-stage and it would kill any opportunity to surprise them. And what surprises them rise our scores!”

“And forcing a Minor to be standing on a table wouldn’t give a great image of your show” completed Martin as he felt her mind living his, which made him feel somewhat weak in the knees, as if his energy was sucked out of him a little.

“But what to do, what to do?” wondered Miss Margaret, her impressive ass grazing him twice as she fidgeted, and Martin took a prudent step back, only to have his head caught in a large hand and him brought back so close to the large globes that he was almost stuck on it.

“Uh… Miss Margaret?” he asked, turning his head sideway to avoid looking like a little creep.

“Hush Martin, I’m thinking. And I need you close, I don’t want you wandering around and getting lost or something when I’ll need your help or advice.”

The Minor gulped hard. It was always both so frightening, demeaning and exciting to be around the blond giantess. She clearly didn’t really see him as a person, more like a prop or a genius pet. But she was so damn sexy that the opportunity to hand out around her ass was the talk of many guys here. He had heard more than his fair share of comments about how lucky he was to always be attracted by those planetoids. Himself, he didn’t feel so lucky. No matter their size, ass-cheeks couldn’t talk, nor care about his feelings, and not being taller than her meant that Miss Margaret wouldn’t consider him as even remotely interesting. Ever.

“I guess we’ll just have to have him sitting on the laps of the person who’ll call him under the spotlight. I think it’ll look so cute!”

“But if he has to talk, won’t he sound utterly ridiculous that way?”

“He will sound ridiculous either way” dismissed Miss Margaret, so flippantly that Martin recoiled a little, feeling really hurt. “I’m sorry” she hastily added, putting her fingers in his hair. “You know I’m not thinking that what YOU have to say is irrelevant. You are a lot cleverer than most guys I know, but you’re an exception among your kind Martin. Still, can you forgive me? How about that? Instead of going to some stupid restaurant, I’ll cook for you tonight. Doesn’t it sound great?”

“Sure” replied the poor minor, who was completely taken aback by this behavior and started to suspect that something sinister was afoot.

He immediately found them confirmed when a large, masculine hand, grabbed one of Miss Margaret’s cheeks, and squeezing tight. The gigantic man, who towered even over the blonde colossus, moved in closer, and Martin found himself trapped between the huge ass of the anchor and the crotch of a very lustful MAJOR, whose trouser did nothing to hide the larger than average size of his penis, who seemed ready to burst open at any given time, which made the poor Minor really uncomfortable. Then he heard a thundering slap from above and the giant retreated, swearing loudly.

“Shut your wore mouth Jackson!” roared Miss Margaret. “What will I need to do to make you understand that I’m not into you, asshole!”

“You dumb bitch!” hissed the giant, taking a step and making Martin stumble and fall on the ground, a truly terrifying experience with two angry MAJORS seemingly ready to come to blows.

“Get the fuck away from me, you brutish oaf, or I’ll tear your head off!” shouted Miss Margaret, and, reluctantly, Jackson left, almost crushing Martin’s legs, which were saved only because he swiftly rolled away from the thundering step. “Okay, where were… Martin, if you want to see what’s underneath my skirt, it’s a real poor way of doing it.”

“I didn’t do it on purpose, I swear Miss Margaret!” yelled the poor Minor, doing his best to get up and thus missing the probable opportunity to see her face, albeit for a second.

“I’m kidding Martin, I know you wouldn’t do that. Now come, do you have an idea to help me out of my conundrum?”

“I… Why not put a pliable chair underneath yours or the Cyclopean’s sofa? That way, it get out when the guest arrives, it doesn’t spoil the surprise and it shows that you care enough to have all of this ready beforehand?”

“Of course! It’s so obvious! Thank you Martin, thank you!” said Miss Margaret, clasping her hands.

---------------------------------------------------------

Martin fidgeted uncomfortably on the chair. It was a well-designed Minor-chair, allowing him eye level with his guest while eating. Which was precisely what troubled him. He had half-expected Miss Margaret to cook herself something and give him crumbs, like his family used to as a kid. But the woman who always made sure he couldn’t see his face at work was now humming in the kitchen, interrupting herself only to ask him if he liked green beans, maize or duck. It was really frightening, he was so out of his depth that he felt like fainting.

“You’re awfully quiet Martin. Is something wrong?” asked the giantess as she deposited another tray on food before him.

“I’m just… I’m just very impressed by the decoration” replied Martin, his voice shaking a little.

“Liar” purred Miss Margaret, letting one of her finger run across his shoulders, which made him shiver. “You’re afraid of something; what is it? You can open up to me…”

“I… it’s just that I’m not used to have a MAJOR being so friendly to me” mumbled Martin, looking at his plate to avoid her face.

“Really? I’m sorry to hear that” she said, so close to his ears that he shivered. “Surely I have been friendly to you, right? I always keep you really close to me, after all!” she giggled.

“Su… sure, but you… I can never see what you think of me, I can never see your face” blurted Martin, who immediately regretted speaking his mind. “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to-“

He was interrupted by her mind overpowering his own and forcing a Bond on him. He gasped as she perused over what was inside his brain. He tried for a second to resist, but a soothing feeling came over him and he felt a sudden bliss, like when he managed to get some drug left-over by his older brother, and managed to forget his troubles. Then she went out and he gasped for air, as if he had run a whole marathon. She had never been so forceful when Bonding him, and his body and mind suffered from the abrupt withdrawal.

“I hadn’t realized…” mumbled Miss Margaret, taking a step back. “I mean, I made sure you wouldn’t see my face, yes, but it wasn’t because I wanted it, it’s just an after-effect of what I wanted.”

“What?” asked Martin, wobbling a little as he tried to gather his thoughts.

“You’re too cute!” blurted the giantess. “I mean, how could I do my work correctly if I saw your face? I would want to cuddle you and have you with me at all time, trying to make you happy…”

“What? I don’t understand…” said Martin, trying to look up at her only to find his face engulfed into her cleavage.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

The Minor gasped for air, getting his head out of the deep valley of white flesh. He felt a large hand putting itself on his back and caressing it, long fingers, longer than his whole hand, from the tip of his nail to his wrist, playing with his skin, grazing it and sometime pinching it gently, eliciting moans from him. His head was full with Margaret’s emotions, the pleasure she had experienced with him there and… and everywhere. He had never expected sex with a MAJOR to be so great, when one cared about you.

“You’re so beautiful” mumbled the MAJOR woman, even as he didn’t dare look up at her perfect face and felt as if he would faint if he saw her smile at him. “I’m so sorry that I didn’t feel ready for this for so long…”

“Don’t be Miss Margaret” replied Martin, old habits dying hard. “I mean, MAJORS have greater needs than us Minors, so I never expected any of this. I mean, I never dreamed of being with someone so kind when…”

“When we have sex?” completed the giantess, unfazed by such idea, like most of her kind. “I’ll try to be kinder at all time, even if we’ll have to keep being professionals at work for the time being, okay?”

“Sure!” replied Martin, kissing her skin softly; his days were already brighter than ever, he decided.