LACTOGENESIS XXXIII: 

THE STAFF MEETING, PART ONE 
 
	Chris pulled up in front of Jeremy's home (she still called it an 
"estate" in her mind -- she'd never gotten used to its size) ten minutes 
late. Jeremy had called a staff meeting of The Lac-Station for that 
evening, on fairly short notice, which was not like him. It was also not 
like him to have it at his own house. A meeting of all six employees of 
the company was quite rare, but when it did happen, Chris usually hosted 
it since her converted spare bedroom had come to be regarded as the 
company's headquarters. Chris had never been quite able to figure out 
why that was, when Jeremy had so much spare room at his place compared 
to Chris's apartment, which was tiny by comparison. 	Chris was late 
because she had just finished a milking session which took longer than 
she thought it would. The movie she had been watching during it had been 
a rather violent thriller, which might have caused some emotional 
reactions that were counterproductive to good milk flow. She would 
remember in future to listen to soothing music or watch a good mellow 
romance or steamy X-rated film if she was in a hurry and had to drain 
her breasts quickly. 	She trotted up the stairs (too quickly -- her 
expansive, unsupported bosom bounced almost painfully) and rang the 
doorbell, which sounded a series of deep brassy tones. She smiled; it 
didn't seem all that long ago when pressing that button had produced a 
recording of a woman screaming. How many times have I been here since 
the Halloween party? she wondered. Not very many. Jeremy usually likes 
to come to my place. Probably because I'm better equipped to handle the 
mess we usually make... 	Chris was expecting to see Jeremy's welcome 
smile behind the door and so was startled when a woman she'd never seen 
before opened it. From the look on the woman's face, it was clear that 
she recognized Chris but didn't seem to be too pleased about it. Chris 
knew immediately that she was at a disadvantage, but she rallied 
quickly. She realized that this woman must be the mysterious fifth lady 
whom Jeremy had hired without consulting the others, the one none of 
them had met in the several weeks that had elapsed since, the one Jeremy 
declined to discuss even when pressed on the subject. 	Only a few seconds 
of silence went by as the two women scanned each other, but in that 
short time Chris learned a lot. The mystery lady was quite small, maybe 
five feet even, maybe even an inch or two shorter. Chris towered over 
her. She looked to be in her mid thirties. She had short-cropped blonde 
hair that clung tightly to her head, almost like a swim cap. Her eyes 
were huge and almost turquoise blue, with just the slightest hint of an 
almond shape; her cheekbones were high and wide; her mouth small and 
thin-lipped. Her tiny ears also lay tight against her head. She was 
beautiful in an elfin sort of way. Her frame matched her height -- she 
might weigh eighty or ninety pounds. Her hips were so narrow as to be 
almost boyish; her breasts were barely there, looking like little more 
than exaggerated pectoral muscles. Fairly prominent nipples showed 
through the fabric of her white dress. Jeez, attach wings to this girl 
and she could be Tinkerbell, Chris thought. That's what I think I'll 
call her. 	"Come in, Chris," Tinkerbell said in the kind of voice Chris 
expected: a thin, high soprano. "The rest of us are in the salon." The 
way she said that last word -- just a hint of a French accent. Hmm. 
What's this girl's story? Chris thought. Where'd Jeremy find her? 
	Tinkerbell led Chris through the house to the spacious enclosed back 
porch that she had called the "salon". Sherri, Eleanor, and Janine were 
sitting together on a huge overstuffed sofa, chatting amiably back and 
forth. Jeremy sat in a large leather-covered lounger that looked almost 
like a throne. A large plate of canapes sat on the glass-and-brass 
coffee table. Sherri and Janine were drinking glasses of beer; Eleanor, 
white wine; and Jeremy, what looked to be champagne. A second glass of 
champagne sat on a small table next to his chair. It had lipstick on it. 
Tinkerbell's. 	Upon Chris's entrance, Eleanor smiled and nodded. Janine 
waved childishly, a huge grin on her face. Sherri put down her beer, 
strode over and gave Chris a big hug, or at least, as big a hug as their 
two outstanding bustlines would allow. "There she is! How are you, hon? 
You know, the only thing I don't like about this job is being too busy 
to see you. This guy really keeps me hoppin'...or should I say, 
humpin'!" She laughed heartily. No one else did. 	"Let's get started, 
shall we?" Jeremy said in an all-business tone. "We've got a lot to 
cover tonight. So much, in fact, that if you've made plans for later, 
you should cancel them now." He indicated a nearby telephone. 	"But Jer, 
what about my appointment tonight?" Janine asked. 	"Don't worry about it. 
Already taken care of," he said curtly. 	"But if I don't...you 
know...I'll get all..." 	"I said don't worry about it. I've got it 
covered," Jeremy replied, cutting her off. 	What bug crawled up his ass? 
Chris wondered. 	"Shit, Jeremy, you know tonight's my night off," Sherri 
said indignantly. 	"I know, and I'll make it up to you. This is too 
important." 	Eleanor moved to the phone, talking more to herself than to 
the others. "I should call our au pair and tell her I'll be home late, 
tell her to feed the baby... How late, Jeremy?" 	"Don't know yet." 
	"Wonderful." Eleanor scowled and began punching numbers. 	"We have four 
things on the agenda this evening," Jeremy said. "The first one is 
fairly trivial, so I'll get it out of the way now. I wanted to show you 
all our new corporate logo." He got up and walked behind the sofa, where 
an easel was set up. He picked up a large cloth-covered placard that was 
resting there and placed it on the easel. "A friend of mine at Graphic 
Descriptions designed it." Out of the corner of her eye Chris saw 
Tinkerbell smile and nod slightly. She had curled herself up on the 
floor, at the foot of Jeremy's chair, and was sipping her champagne. The 
artist is probably one of her regulars returning a favor, Chris thought. 
Who the hell IS she?? 	With a flourish, Jeremy flung away the cloth 
covering. The revealed logo was in large white lettering on a blue 
background. "The LAC-STATION Ltd.", it trumpeted in large rounded-block 
lettering. Below, in smaller italics, "When Nothing But Nature Will Do". 
Chris stared, then tried to keep from laughing as she realized that the 
A's in "Lac-Station" had been replaced by milk bottles (that actually 
said "MILK" on them), and that little cartoon droplets of milk were 
coming out of the tops of the stems of the "L" and "N". 	Sherri, as 
expected, was first to comment. "Christ, Jeremy," she said derisively. 
"You've got to be kidding." 	Eleanor was next. "I'm not carrying business 
cards with that printed on them. No way." 	Janine piped up. "I think it's 
kinda cute." 	Jeremy looked at Chris, clearly waiting for her opinion. I 
can't tell him how ridiculous it looks, she thought. I don't want to 
hurt his feelings. "I don't know," she said tentatively. "This doesn't 
look like the logo of an organization that wants to be taken seriously." 
	Jeremy and Tinkerbell exchanged a long look. Chris took this to mean 
that these two had already decided for the rest of them that this logo 
would be the one; they clearly hadn't expected any resistance. Jeremy 
finally spoke slowly, saying, "Maybe I should have him keep working on 
it." 	Tinkerbell glared at him. Wrong answer, Chris thought. Where does 
this chick get off trying to get her way here? Wait a minute, wait a 
damned minute. She studied Jeremy's face, gauging his discomfort, and a 
sudden realization hit her like a lightning bolt. He's pussy-whipped! 
Chris shouted to herself. This bitch has him completely under her 
control! What the fuck is going on here? Anger, disappointment, sadness 
all swept over Chris at once. No wonder she hadn't seen much of Jeremy 
lately. She'd thought his two businesses, real estate and the Station, 
had been keeping him away. She suddenly knew the real reason -- that her 
main man was in the thrall of a pint-sized prick-teaser with a body like 
a boy and hair like a helmet. She suddenly hurt all over. 	"It looks like 
something a fucking novelty shop would use," Sherri said, heedless of 
the silent drama before her. "I vote no." 	"I'll remember that when this 
becomes a democracy," Jeremy shot back. Sherri's eyes widened; she 
hadn't expected that. "Okay, let's table this for now. We can't take any 
more time with this." He took the placard back down, deliberately 
avoiding Tinkerbell's withering stare as she tried to freeze the very 
air around him with her disturbingly beautiful eyes. 	Jeremy reseated 
himself in his chair. As he did so, Tinkerbell stood up and moved to an 
empty chair at the other end of the room, but not before refilling her 
glass. He tried to ignored her, but wasn't doing a good job of it. Chris 
could see his body language telegraphing "I'm sorry". Looking at no one 
in particular, he said, "For the second item on the agenda, I'd like to 
get your updates on how your various appointments have gone over the 
last few weeks. You know, find out who the weirdos are, whether or not 
we need to do some weeding out, whether you're still enjoying 
yourselves, whether there's too much or not enough going on, etc., etc. 
Storytelling time, ladies!" 	Chris opened her mouth to speak, but Sherri 
beat her to it. She set her beer down on the table with a loud noise and 
said, "Oh, no you don't. Not so fast, my friend. I'm not staying another 
second until I get something straight." She swiveled in her seat to face 
Tinkerbell and addressed her directly. "Just who in the hell are you? 
What are you doing here, and how is it that without saying three words 
you seem to have taken over here?" 	Bless you, my dear friend, Chris 
thought. 	Tinkerbell didn't respond other than to once again fix Jeremy 
with an angry look. Jeremy rose from his chair and walked over to stand 
behind Tinkerbell's chair. "Of course, how silly of me not to have made 
introductions right away." He rested his hands on both of her shoulders; 
she stiffened as he did so. "Ladies of the Lac-Station, allow me to 
introduce Monique Marcoux. Your new executive vice president."