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Elizabeth hurried into the Consolidated Provincial Grommets (Ltd) building, carrying her pasta in one hand and a bottled water in the other. She had about fifty seconds to eat her lunch before the boss showed up.

As she slid behind the recpetion desk, she notes, for the jillionth time this year, the pointless little maple-leaf dot on the end of "Ltd." It's not like it would actually be legible on paper. If they wanted a maple leaf, it would be better to put it in the O of Provincial or something. But no one had asked her when they put it in, seeing as she had been three as the company was founded.

She kicked her shoes off, set the salad on the floor, and straighted up, right before Mrs. McIntosh rounded the corner. No one was sure what had happened to Mr. McIntosh. One theory was that she had eaten him. Liz prefered to believe that she had sucked his soul out through his body. Or maybe implanted a facehugger.

McIntosh's face bloomed into something resmbling a smile. It did not set off her plastic surgery well.

"Elizabeth! You're back from lunch!" she said, as usual, as if she had expected the receptionist to hock the printer and run away to Florida. Liz plastered an equally plastic-looking smile on her own face.

"Well, yes, I had a few errands to run." Beat. "Bought some cat food from the mall."

The regional manager's eyes strayed to the water bottle. Oh crap.

"Trying to stay hydrated," Liz improvised, plastering a concerned look on her face, nodding.

"I see," McIntosh said. "Do try to hold down the number of bathroom breaks, dear."

It was kind of amazing how the bosslady couldn't hear Liz's teeth grinding. "I'll try."

"That's all I ask."

And with a pert little nod, she wandered off, presumably to torment some other poor sinner.

Liz watched her go, counted to thrity to make sure she wouldn't double back, and then booted up Solitaire and an Excel file on her computer.

Which left her clear to, finally, eat her lunch.

She bent over again, and noticed that the top of the not-Tupperware container had popped off, and dug a fork in.

"Scuse me."

She popped up. "Hm?"

It was Harold Kim, the skinny new guy seven years younger than she was, with those magnificent cheekbones and bronzed skin tone. Her cheeks heated up at his friendly smile.

"Did my package come in?"

"Ah...no. Sorry."

"Thanks."

And off he walked. Liz watched him go with rather more attention than she had given McIntosh, absently shoving a forkful of pasta salad into her mouth-

Pasta salad wasn't supposed to squish like that.

As it turned out, some strange sort of black substance had gotten all over her lunch. Liz couldn't figure out how. It sure hadn't been there when she put it under the desk.

She swallowed, then winced. Well, it was too late now. Now she needed to sneak it into the garbage in the break room, because McIntosh would see it if she dumped it in the recpetion basket. She shoved her feet into her shoes, and then winced again as one of them squished.

As it happened, there was a small, black lizard in there. An apparently dead small, black lizard. Could she dump that in her basket? Did dead lizards stink?

"So," someone said.

Liz nearly jumped out of her skin.

"It seems my package somehow got routed to Saskatchewan," Harold said. "So you don't have to worry about it. Is there something on your lip?"

"What?"

"Your lip. Something..." He made the gesture.

Her hand came away black. "Oh, this? Stake sauce."

"You put stake sauce on your pasta salad?" Raised eyebrow, half-smile. "Daring choice."

"How did you know I had pasta salad?"

"It's Tuesday."

Her cheeks grew hot. "Y-you noticed?"

"I pay attention. See you around."

"B-bye."

The rest of her grew hot as well, and she watched him walk away. He glanced over his shoulder, and gave her a full-on smile, and...wow.

At which point something flopped out of her underwear.

Her expression at this point would be difficult to describe.

"...Of course."

The...thing seemed to be attached just above her crotch, and was a solid, shiny black. In fact, it was spreading to her pantyhose. It was thinner at the tip, and broad at the base, and there was a hole on the end-

Oh.

Oooh.

Maybe the pasta salad should go down on her priority list.

Her toe was tingling when it had touched the lizard, and while that had the same slick texture as her new...equipment, it was a green colour. Her toes were shaped wrong, and more importantly there were only three of them. She flexed her toes, and a claw popped out of the biggest one.

"Great. I'm a kinky velocirapor."

All in all, she was being remarkably calm about this. She had picked up a mutant lizard somewhere, and it was changing her into a super shemale lizard.

But, really, would that be so bad? It would certainly make meetings more interesting. Maybe...maybe Kim would like it. Maybe she could bend McIntosh over her desk and-

The phone rang. Liz jumped again. Intercom call, it was one-fifteen, so that meant...

"You know why I'm calling," said McIntosh, in that oily, patronizing tone of hers.

Liz closed her eyes. She did not need this. "Yes."

"You know what I need."

A good dicking.

"Yes."

"You know how I like it."

Rough.

"Black, one cream, two sugars."

"Good." Click.

Liz looks at her brand-new cock again. A bead of black wells from the top. Her lip curls in contempt.

McIntosh would take it black, all right.

+++++

"Here's your coffee, Miss McIntosh."

Anita grunted in reply, looking at some papers. And then Liz vanished, like a good employee.

A few minutes later, someone knocked on her door. That would be her one o'clock. She said "come" like Captain Picard.

In came Dominic. With his unflattering hair and coke bottle glasses, he was no doubt here for his biweekly suggestion-fest.

"I have a few ideas-"

Anita immediately zoned out. She took a sip of her coffee.

Maybe she'd try Callahagan's, tonight. It'd be good to get out of her current pantyhose (with a ripped right toe) and sensible flat shoes into something a little sexier.

"-undiscovered markets-"

Stealthily, she runs her hands over the fishnets she's wearing. Then again, why should she bother trolling bars when there was perfectly good - well, not actively horrible - resources to exploit right in the office? She taps her six-inch heels on the floor. Well, why not?

"-3d printing-"

"Dominic," she interrupts, "have I ever told you how much I value our little chats?"

"No."

"Well, allow me to rectify that." She comes around the desk, leans on it.

"What...what are you doing?"

"I appreciate them," she said, planting one latex-stocking-clad foot on his armrest, "because they let me spend so much time in your presence." And now the other foot.

Dominic stared at the platform shoes bracketing him. They were the type so high they didn't even have a heel, the sort of thing you saw on fetish models, not real women. Had he just walked into a porno? Or another one of Julius' pranks? No, no McIntosh would never go along with it.

"Uh."

His boss was unbuttoning her shirt. "Lick my navel, Dominic."

"What?"

"Put your tongue into my belly button," she said levelly.

He swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down, his head spinning. Almost without realizing it, he leaned forward.

"That's it," she said, as she gently removes his glasses. "Come to mamma."

That would have posed some interesting Freudian conundrums to Dominic, had he been capable of recognizing them at the time. As it was, all he could think of was getting his tongue to her stomach.

"Gooood," she purred, winding her fingers into his hair, her nails oddly sharp.

Dominic wasn't sure what to do, now; he had never heard of a "bellyjob", though the navel lint didn't taste bad. Fortunately, the decision was promptly taken out of his hands, what with him not being able to move his tongue.

For some reason, he couldn't scream as his head was pulled into his boss, inch by inch. She hurried him along, tugging at his clothes, and only had a warm smile as her own head shifted over, her shoulders broadened, and his own head grew next to hers like a rather odd tumor.

Her face had a warm, smile, full of sharp teeth.

Well, that wasn't right. He ran a tongue over his boring human teeth, and concentrated as they all grew pointier. In return, she stared at his ears, and hers shifted as well. As she yawned, he saw a slick pink tongue, and his own spilled out his mouth, dangling to their shared chest.

After his shoulders were absorbed, so was his chest and upper arms, and they both watched as a slick, black texture swept over hers. Her chest, in contrast to her Ronda Rousey-like guns, swelled outward dramatically, bursting the buttons on the blouse and spilling forth, capped by dull black areolae, which they absently rolled in their hands - no, paws - as they panted. A narrower waist was accompanied by washboard abs.

And then the absorption, and the changes, reached the crotch.

It started out as a bulge, like a giant blister. Even as the legs thicked with muscle, it grew, upward and outward. As the kinky boots turned to paws, it reached the breaking point. And as the guard dog dropped their feet to the floor, it flared outward into a massive pink cock, which they grasped with a whine-

"I've got a better idea," someone said.

The dog suddenly smelt something that hadn't been there before, and the ears on what had been Dominic's head swivelled towards the sound. (Anita's head was, sadly, floppy-eared.) Now that they were looking for it, they could see the shimmer in the corner that turned into what used to be a receptionist.

The beast lowered its head in submission.

Liz does a little twirl. She was covered in iridescent green from the neck down, mostly, with her front open to show off some of her boobs and her toned abs. There were...slashes in the green over her back and hips and upper arms where the skin showed through, resembling stripes. Her eyes had gone completely black. Plus, of course, the tail.

The dog's creature's eyes dropped to Liz's crotch.

Well, she was mostly green.

"Well," Liz said, "I suppose you'll have to get your tail with the next person you absorb. Though I do have to wonder what orifice it'll be..."

She raised a hand, and made a fist, and the two-headed dog began to shrink.

"I've taken the liberty of ordering a box of donuts from Tim's. When it gets here, we're going to put some frosting on them."

Boring human legs and arms.

"Expand our...labour pool, understand? If they complain, we'll tell them they're non-fat."

Back to one head, though both minds were still present.

Anita nodded.

They - no, she - felt squashed. Compressed. Like trying to put on a too-small pair of shoes.

"Look at me."

She did.

"I'm the manager now."

Anita knew now that she was nothing more than Liz's humble servant, her mistress' every whim a command.

As it turned out, this did not actually prevent her from rolling her eyes.

+++++

Harold Kim poured himself a cup of coffee that would be cool enough to drink in a minute or two. Added two creams, one sugar. Leaned against the breakroom counter, and watched Julius come in, make a beeline for the fridge, peer into its mysterious depths, and then pulled out a container that looked exactly like the one Liz usually bought her lunch in.

"Is that your pasta salad?" Kim asked.

Julius' eyes flicked to the side. "Yes. This is stake sauce. See?" He grabbed a fork out of the drawer and took a bite, swallowed.

The Asian would've called him on it, but he was suddenly gripped by an odd squeezing sensation and a sudden attack of diziness. Julius was presumably feeling much the same way, as he leaned on the counter, the pasta salad falling from his hand and spilling all over the floor.

"So...hot..." he mumbled.

Kim barely managed to set his mug on the counter before it dropped. His hand was shaking. And also, there was something wrong with the fingernails -

"Who...who made that coffee?" he forced out.

"Forget your stupid coffee, who made the salad?"

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Obeyseance 3: Overhead By Eulalie "Nequ" Quentin Creative Commons By-SA-NC 2015 Fan stories welcome.

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This was originally going to be a separate story, but I liked it better once I rolled it into Obeysance. Inspirations include a certain NBC sitcom about office workers, and Lindy Booth's abs in that one episode of "The Librarians".

Strictly speaking, all of the prior stories took place in Canada. I just didn't make it clear until now.