Jessica's Change Management Ch. 14

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Cathartico
Cathartico
1,318 Followers

Um... I had succeeded, right? I had given my best to pass these pesky tests! That should be all that mattered. The failed task? Such an old hat!

"For today, you are Justin's bimbo trainee." Ortega explained, which made me sniffle. "He will oversee the training of your resexionist skills."

"I, however, have important work to do." He concluded. "Hence, we may start the first training session without further ado."

"It may do you good to get settled in first, I believe. It wasn't your quick wit that got you the job after all, Missy." He elaborated on the training program before I had a chance to fully comprehend it. "Hence, we start with what you did best. You may man the receptionist desk."

Oh no! Not that, of all thingies. Sitting there in the open receptionist area in plain view for all consultants and clients and delivery drivers and workers and whatever was the worst task of all. There would be no way for me to hide.

"Okay sir, I'll try my best." I still agreed, although I pulled a sulky face.

Actually, I hadn't been planning on acting bitchy or stuff. After all, I should be glad to have time to work on an escape plan. That was really far from my mind at the moment, however. Ortega's dominant demeanor totally put me under his spell. All I wanted to do right now was to prove my worth to my loathed rival. Well, I also wanted that gloriously arched cock back in my pussy, of course. Still, I disliked the sound of the first training session so much it made me pout dramatically.

"Oh dummy boob, that is exactly why you need the bimbo training." Ortega snorted, confusing me even more. "It is not sir. It is daddy, you see. That is what you call me as of now."

"Oh... um, sorry sir... I mean, daddy." I stammered, kinda taken aback. "I'll try my best... daddy. Hihihi!"

Oh my god! Calling this grown man in his forties daddy was so silly! Totally absurd! The fact that I was almost a head taller than him only enforced the absurdity. Totally ridiculous! I had to look down on him while calling him daddy. So comical! However, it instantly made me feel so bimboy. By default, I stopped pouting. Instead, my voice automatically became high-pitched and I added a stupid giggle at the end.

"You may go downstairs now, ditzy doll." Ortega commanded, ignoring me pulling a sulky face. "Justin prepared the receptionist desk already. He will give you further instructions."

With a nod of his head, my boss sent me away. Just like that, I got dismissed. He wasn't about to say anything else, getting busy with actual work. I guess that was more important than training a low-ranked ass-istant.

Simply getting sent away with a disrespectful gesture was somewhat of a peeve. Yet, I obediently followed it and tottered out of the office. The super easy activity of walking to the receptionist area didn't turn out so easy. With every step, I had to be mindful of my stocking tops getting exposed. With every step, I felt my zipper piercing stimulating my clit. Holy fudge!

Walking through the consultant floor, I noticed that the conference room was unoccupied. Neither on the main hallway nor the two corridors, there was lotsa going on. Probably, most of the consultants were on business trips as usual. Actually, that was a good thingie 'cause I didn't run into anyone on my way.

Reaching the receptionist area, my knees were weak and my pussy was wet from the constant stimulation. Gosh! This would be a long and horny day for me. Justin was already waiting with another surprise gift in tow. Rounding the receptionist desk, I noticed that he had removed the swivel chair and replaced it with a pink gym ball.

What the fudge was that for?

I guess neither my boss nor his henchman were interested in my fitness. But what were they going for instead? I couldn't tell. Whatever! I wasn't here to ask questions. So I dutifully sat on the gym ball and booted up the computer. Following yesterday's test, I knew my resexionist tasks, such as screening calls, forwarding e-mails, and stuff.

"Okay dollie," Justin addressed me to explain the first training session. "As a bimbo resexionist, it's your job to greet anyone coming to the office 'n sweeten their wait."

Oh wow! Right to the point. The intern wasn't mincing words, calling me a bimbo and resexionist right in the open area. Flinching heavily, I fearfully looked around to check if anyone had heard it. Nobody was in hearing distance, though. Lucky me!

"The goal of this training session's quite easy. Meet 'n greet guests like a bimbo." The slimeball announced.

"That's why you'll spend most of the time posing 'n flipping your hair 'n casting flirtatious looks like giving away free candy." He continued. "Think you can do that, bimbo ditz?"

"In the end, you gotta excel at making people think 'bout fucking the office bimbo silly with the briefest glance or slightest flash of skin." Justin elaborated. "You gotta practice till you do it by default. Till you can't stop your body from convincing everyone in the room that you're nothing but a ditzy piece of office candy."

Oh boy! 'Piece of office candy'? That sounded like a new low. It sounded like I was something like a painting on the wall, something people watched to bridge the time. Paintings could easily be replaced, right? I suppose, office bimbos could be replaced just as easily. I guess I had to be a super awesome piece of office candy then.

"Oh and by the way, that workman you met yesterday counts as a guest." The intern added. "So when he comes along, you better treat him like a good bimbo. Gettit?"

Woah! I had to entertain all the clients, suppliers and guests by looking pretty? So sexist! In my saucy outfit, though, I could do that for sure. So easy!

With my task clear, I sat on the pink gym ball. This inflatable fitness device caused me to flex my back and push my titties out. It really highlighted my skills. Duh!

Getting into my resexionist routine, I started screening missed calls and forwarded them to the specific consultant. That didn't take too much time, 'cause it was still early in the day.

So I started looking around the station for other menial tasks. The desk was still tidied up from yesterday so there wasn't much to clean up. Even though I went through every stack of paper and looked into every drawer, I didn't find lotsa thingies to occupy me.

I thought about the stuff Miss Palmer and Miss Keelan had used to take care of in the mornings but couldn't come up with lots 'cause I had always been too busy to care much about what the secretaries were doing.

However, I remembered that they had always prepared the conference room for upcoming meetings. So I tottered down the hallway to the office kitchen and filled a tray with water carafes and glasses. Gosh! This was such low-grade, inferior work.

Nonetheless, I meticulously set the tables in the conference room. After all, if I had to fulfill these menial tasks, I wanted to carry them out to the letter. At first, I didn't even notice that I bent over the tables so far my tight dress stretched tautly around my ass. On top of that, the hemline slid up far enough to expose my stocking tops.

Gulp! I was putting on a sexy show although nobody was around to watch it. Gulp! I was posing sexily by default. Just as Justin had touted it. I was doing it automatically. I was doing it without giving it any thought. So quickly! Duh!

Anyways, it didn't take long to prepare the conference room. Soon, I was back at the receptionist station looking for more work. Oh dang! That couldn't be it. There had to be some task for me. I couldn't be so useless. Any kinda menial task was better than sitting idle. Fudge! I even walked around the receptionist area and watered the plants to keep myself busy.

A couple of minutes later, though, I was back sitting on the gym ball totally unoccupied. It made me feel so superfluous, so dispensable. Totally on edge, I started drumming my fingers on the tabletop. Actually, it was more like I was drumming the square tips of my long, fake nails on the tabletop. Anyways, it made a loud clicking sound. Basically, that was the only sound in the room except for the ticking of the clock.

Gawd! This was so annoying. Without anything to keep me busy, time was crawling at a snail's pace. Going for another round through the receptionist area, I discovered a couple of women's magazines on a table in the waiting area. They hadn't been there before, had they?

Throwing Justin a look, I noticed his sleazy grin. The slimeball must have placed them there. Never before had I read such gossip rags. I had never been in the mood to waste my time with trivial stuff like celebrity gossip. It was totally useless! It was totally pointless!

However, I had time now. I had nothing better to do. God no! I wouldn't sink this low. No way! I might have been acting like a bimbo ditz for Ortega, but I wouldn't fill my head with such trivial tabloid smut. So superficial! So shallow!

Soon after, I found myself sitting on the gym ball with an open celebrity magazine in front of me, reading the newest beauty tips from some teenage it-girl. Actually, her fashion tips were kinda helpful for dressing up as Ortega's ass-istant. I had to admit that.

After some time, I was so absorbed in reading that I put my forefinger's nail tip on my lower lip while I traced the line with the square tip of my left forefinger. It must have looked like I had to try really hard to focus on something so simple as reading a gossip rag. Duh!

I was almost finished with the magazine when a man suddenly popped into the receptionist area. I had been so focused on reading that I hadn't heard him approaching.

Shocker!

It was one of my subordinates, I mean former subordinates! Actually, it was Steve, the newest consultant in the firm. He was seeing me working as receptionist. He was seeing me dressed as office bimbo. Shoot!

In panic, I jumped to my feet 'cause Steve was already approaching the desk. Uh-oh! Just then, I noticed that my hasty leap had caused the hemline to slide up over the lace stocking tops.

Hurriedly, I flashed a bright smile and giggled apologetically while I pulled it down. Even though I couldn't say for sure, I guess Steve hadn't noticed 'cause he was fully focused on my face. His gaze roamed from my plucked, high-arched eyebrows down the chunky, golden earrings to my glossy lips.

"Everything OK... Miss Addams?" Steve asked, his voice halting like he had to stop himself from calling me some kinda pet name.

At first, I didn't react. Guess why? 'Cause my gaze had dropped to his pants. I was thinking about his dick pondering how it looked in comparison to daddy's arched cock. Uh-oh!

"What you're doing here?" The consultant inquired. "I thought you were busy managing the restructuring program."

Well, think again. Actually, I was busy dreaming about my boss' cock. Duh! Anyways, my former subordinate seemed really amused about finding me here. That was surprising 'cause he was new and had acted very reserved so far.

"You know, part of the program's downsizing our administrative staff. It's like an epic endeavor. Fer shure, all administrative duties are up for review." I tried to weasel out of this awkward situation. "As execs, Ortega 'n I gotta test how to, you know, carve out more efficient administration processes. Okay?"

To emphasize my position, I put my hand on my hip although it made me look more bitchy than convincing. Oh darn! I had intended to sound firm and determined. The way, I had always acted as executive. Instead, I sounded like I was pleading with him to believe my excuse.

Of course, I couldn't convince Steve, but at least he stopped probing and asking uncomfortable questions. Everything I had said about reviewing the administrative processes didn't seem to matter, though. Instead, he gave me an order to call a taxi as if I was the new receptionist. Oh wait...

I didn't protest although it was a gross affront to instruct your superior to arrange your business travels even if I was only a faux-executive now. Yet, I simply picked up the phone and called a taxi. All the while, Steve stared at my bitchface. It made me all tingly 'cause he obviously liked my looks. Yay!

When Steve had left the office, I took a deep breath and sat back on the pink gym ball. Actually, I was glad that it had been him, our firm's newest hire. He had started just a week before the interns, so he hadn't experienced much of my previous demeanor as tough-as-nails executive. He was also still on employment probation. As his official superior, I was supposed to decide about giving him a permanent position. So he wouldn't gossip, right?

Just when I opened another fashion magazine, Ortega called. He told me to start the video chat application on the computer. When the camera was running, I saw my boss sitting at his desk with a pile of documents in front of him.

"You see, Miss Bimbo, I have to concentrate on these papers." He told me. "Background noises don't enhance my focus, I'm afraid. But background movement does, like a moving screensaver."

"You may be my screensaver, dummy boob." He instructed me.

Please what? A screensaver? Seriously?!?

You only had to move around mindlessly for that, right? So degrading! You didn't need any skills for that, right? So belittling! However, it was something to do, so it was better than sitting idle at the desk. Anyhow, a screensaver was kinda like an animated painting, wasn't it? In a way, that made it a perfect job for the piece of office candy, right?

With new-found enthusiasm, I sat on the gym ball and looked into the camera on top of the computer screen. Watching Ortega read the documents, I wasn't really doing anything. Still, it felt like I had a purpose now. Yay!

After a couple of minutes, my boss told me to twirl my hair. Flashing a cheesy smile, I twisted my long, wavy tresses around my right index finger before dramatically throwing my mane over my shoulder and starting to twirl my chestnut-golden tresses around my left index finger.

Gosh! It was such a pacifying habit. It made me feel so small and so silly, like a little girl. However, it kinda worked 'cause it totally relaxed me until my mind was blank and I was fully focused on my hair twirling.

What annoyed me, though, was that Ortega didn't deign to look at me at all. He completely ignored my efforts, reading his papers. So I stopped before throwing my hair back over my shoulder to the right side.

"I didn't allow you to stop, ditzy doll, I believe." The Latino instantly chided me.

OMG! He wasn't looking at the screen, and still he had noticed me stopping. At least, he was paying me some attention even if it was only from the corner of his eyes.

"You got yourself those bimbo porn claws, now you may use them properly." The smug exec added all scornfully.

Yay! Ortega might not have been paying lotsa attention, but at least he was mindful of details. After all, I had gotten these bimbo upgrades for him, or more like, as much for him as for me. The way he called my upgrades, though, I totally failed to hear.

So I restarted twirling my mane threading a strand of hair through my fingers, or more like, alternately under and over the white protruding nail tips. I was kinda proud that Ortega had found such a nice use for my new manicure so it wasn't just debilitating. Anyways, I was totally focused on this task, alternating between my left and right hand. Everything else was blanked out.

"You're sitting on your gym ball, I hope?" Ortega interrupted me. "You may start bobbing up and down on it then, dummy boob."

Oh, so that was what the fitness ball was for. It turned out the perfect seating device for that kinda action. As it was filled with air, it compressed and expanded when I put pressure on it. After stopping with the hair twirling, I got to work, and soon the gym ball was bobbing up and down like a bouncy ball.

Along with it, my body bobbed around. You probably know what that means, right? My boobies bounced up and down, too. Actually, it was more like an epic jiggling. The part of my titty flesh that peaked out of my scoop neckline wobbled massively.

Incidentally, my zipper piercing came into play. With every movement the clit ring made itself felt. It was totally stimulating my most sensitive spot. Gawd! Could I come from riding a gym ball? Probably, or more like, certainly.

In the meantime, Justin had retracted to a chair in the waiting area. Watching me hop around, he couldn't stop laughing his ass off. Ortega, by contrast, barely observed me, focusing on his papers instead. From time to time, he lifted his hand without looking and gave me a signal telling me to speed up my bouncing.

The more I hopped on the fitness ball, the harder it bounced and the harder my titties wiggled. I was bobbing around intensely, so much that I almost took a plunge. By now, my boobie flesh literally shook like it had been hit by an earthquake. More and more of my titty meat slipped out of my neckline. My nipples were already scratching at the surface if you know what I mean.

RING! RING!

Suddenly, the door-bell buzzed, which caught me unawares. The sudden distraction diverted my attention to the door. When the gym ball bounced back up, I lost my grip. Oh no! I was falling off the fitness ball. Half sliding down, I plunged to the ground.

Pulling myself together, I hurried back to my feet. Too late, though, 'cause Justin walked up to the receptionist station with a visitor in tow. The intern had already opened the door without waiting for me to clean up my act. What a dipshit!

I was still rearranging my hair when I noticed it. Tumbling off the gym ball had caused a nip slip!

Shocker!

No! No, no, no! It felt like a flashback to that ill-fated project pitch when I had suffered a bra slip. This was like a max escalation 'cause I wasn't wearing a bra this time. My nipple was out in the open!

Standing behind the receptionist desk, I frantically pulled on the scoop neckline to trap my nipples at large. Too late! The visitor was standing on the other side of the counter already. He had seen it, for sure.

"Hihihi! Oops! Hihihi! These little bulletheads. Always gotta get their will. Hihihi!" I giggled, babbling at the top of my head.

Holy fudge! What a stupid excuse, even for yummy dummy standards.

"Oh, no pun intended. Hihihi!" I apologized when I realized that it had been an unintended wordplay.

Get yourself together, girl! I scolded myself. This is the first visitor you have to greet as receptionist. Don't make any mistakes.

"Hihihi! It's just one of those days, you know, when everything's going wrong, like epically wrong. Hihihi!" I found myself giggling stupidly again.

Just when I had somewhat calmed down, I noticed that pulling my neckline up had caused the whole mini dress to get pushed up. My lace stocking tops were prominently visible. Oh gawd! The visitor didn't even know my name. Yet, he had seen everything I had to offer already. Duh!

But wait! I was supposed to convince the visitors that I was a ditzy piece of office candy, right? I was supposed to make them think about fucking me silly, right? That was the goal for this training session and I guess that was what I was excelling in right now. Yay! I was so succeeding. Nay! I was so disgracing myself.

"I'm so sorry, sir." I told the visitor. "I'm totally making a tit out of myself. I'm new to this job, you know. Indulge me, please. Okay?"

Oh dang! Another unintended pun. Ugh! I was piling idiocy on top of each other. Oh man! I was in a complete tizzy. The bouncing and plunging, the acting as screensaver, the constant stimulation from the new piercing. It was getting to my head, or more like, it was blanking my head. I was more of a needy, aroused bimbo tart than an attentive, mindful assistant.

Cathartico
Cathartico
1,318 Followers