Jessica's Change Management Ch. 22

"Please sir, pretty please, like totes!" I tried again. "You unchain me 'n you, like literally, get some unchained fun. You know, I'm, like, so way more than a fluffer 'n cum catcher."

Oh jeez! What a wordplay! What a promise! Whatever! It was Bimbo-me on the loose! It was what was needed. It was what was successful 'cause I felt the dude grabbing the suspenders to unshackle my feet followed by my arms. Yay!

Finally kneeling in the middle of the fitness room, I rubbed my wrists and ankles which were hurting from being tied up for so long. By default, I grabbed my pink, zebra-style crop top that had been pushed beneath my boobies and used it to wipe the dried goo from my face, or more like my eyes.

Clear vision here I come! Yay! Clear vision letting me glance at the dude. Nay!

SHOCKER!

It was Mr. Alum! Oh no! Oh shoot! Oh fudge! Oh, remember? The sales rep I knew from college. The dude who had dated my best friend. The dude who had been an insufferable douche back then. The dude who stroke me as a small, sneaky sales reptile nowadays.

"Hello Assy or should I say My Lil Porny? Now, that we're alone, we can finally talk freely. Liberating, isn't it?" He addressed me with a sardonic grin plastered all over his face.

"Please what?!? I don't know what you're talking 'bout!" I replied partly evasive partly scandalized.

Oh no! There it was! Consultant-me craning its defiant neck. Getting discovered by my fellow classmate was the worst nightmare ever. I had worked hard to avoid him during the workshop. I had worked harder to keep my cover. Now, I was too close for comfort to him, which made it that much harder to deceive him and instantly brought my rational side back to the forefront. Of course, that was the last thing I needed right now.

"C'mon Assy, you can drop the act!" He exclaimed. "We all know a fluffer when we see it. Some wannabe pornstar. Not enough star power for the big show upstairs but good enough to serve as cum catcher down here."

Oh damn! That hurt! I so wasn't a pornstar, and most definitely I wasn't some back-up fluffer.

"No need to beat around the bush, though I bet you'd love someone to beat your bush." He taunted me.

Gosh! He still came off as super douchey. No matter what, he was right about some thingie. I needed to play the bimbo to succeed. Acting like the smartass would be more of a hindrance than help. After all, I had to grab this chance by the horns. That was why I closed my mouth and opted to feign ignorance.

"Yeah, right! Don't you take me for an idiot, Porny!" Mr. Alum's voice sharpened. "We're talking 'bout our reward workshops here."

"Last year the workshop was a - quote-unquote - teambuilding training!" He explained lifting his arms to give that stupid fang finger gesture. "With a focus on teambuilding at the body level 'cause it took place at a wellness hotel."

"Those - quote-unquote - wellness hostesses were really good at their job. Hehehe!" The reptile dude added, repeating the douchey finger gesture again. "Especially when those young, pretty bitches were massaging dicks with their cunts."

"You see where I'm going, Assy?" He asked me directly.

"Um... no, not really." I still played it coy.

"Of course not! We shouldn't overestimate your mental capacities." He commented dryly. "Let's say it as it is. Last year, the company booked an expensive hotel 'n high-priced escorts."

"This year, they obviously went the cheap route. After all, they booked this low-budget hotel 'n two basic two-bit bitches." He elaborated, giving me a nod.

Please what?!? Basic? Two-bit? You gotta be kidding me! I wanted to slap the douchey dude right in the face for that comment. Bad enough, he was equating me with the previous hostesses, basically calling me an escort. Worse, though, he was also relating my value to the current place, basically calling me low-class. All in all, he was telling me I was nothing but a cheap, trashy whore, not that he was the first one to do so today.

Once again, my mouth opened to protest. I was so ready to give it to him straight and tell him off. Once again, I remained silent. I was too eager to find Mr. Weasel and score another point. That was why I thought better of it and opted to act like a bimbo and not a smartass.

"Gawd, you're fucking stupid!" Mr. Alum exclaimed when I only frowned in response. "There's a fucking sexhibition in the same hotel as our rewards workshop. Doesn't take a genius to put two 'n two together."

"It's time to admit it, Assy!" The reptile dude continued. "You're a porn whore hired away from that adult convention."

Oh my god! Now, he was equating me with a pornstar. What was it about all that porn stuff today? What was it about all dudes taking me for an adult actress today? No matter how many times it was implied or said, it still wasn't true. I so wasn't a porn star or porn whore or porn whatever!

Truth be told, in my fellow graduate's presence, Consultant-me was regaining strength. That was why I disliked that assumption more than anything, 'cause it had the connotation of smut and filth. Even worse, it misrepresented me as skanky and tacky and common as muck. Actually, I loathed it so much that I lifted my hand to slap my fellow classmate.

Something else happened, though. I wasn't just bristling and fretting. I was also shuddering and shaking. As before, the verbal abuse triggered my obedience. No matter if it was Bimbo-me or Consultant-me at the steering wheel, the dominant macho talk got to me. That was why my hand slid into my hair and started twirling my tresses as if by magic.

"C'mon! I'm no porn whore. Maybe, a porno bimbo. But that's it!" I couldn't let his assumption slide, nonetheless.

You see what I did there? I said 'porno' but used it as an adjective, as in awesome or great. What a smartass comment. What a Consultant-me thing to do.

"You can call yourself whatever you want, Assy!" Mr. Alum wasn't impressed. "Doesn't change the fact that your entertainment paid for by the company!"

"I see the difference, though." The reptile dude admitted. "A porn whore's a cocksucker for the money, a porno bimbo doesn't know what else to do 'cause she's too stupid. A porn whore's more of a slut, a porno bimbo's more of a dumb ditz."

Shoot! I guess my clever pun hadn't been that smart. Totally the opposite 'cause it made me look even worse. Gosh! This had really backfired, hadn't it? There was no way for me to argue against that logic. I shouldn't really continue arguing anyway, 'cause I would only dig a deeper hole for myself, right?

There was no way around it, Consultant-me had failed on all levels. I had to give free reins to Bimbo-me. It was now or never before Mr. Alum left. I still needed him to lead me to Mr. Weasel after all.

The decision had been made. The execution wasn't that simply, however. Back on the train, it had all been so easy and natural. Now that I needed it the most, however, I couldn't bring myself to do it. Instead, I had to conquer my rational self and force myself to flash a fake smile and giggle stupidly. Damnit!

"Now, you said you wanna prove you're a porno bimbo 'n not just some cheap fluffer." The douchey dude told me when I didn't react. "You can try by giving me a tour around the sexhibition."

Really? I mean, seriously? What a predicament! What a double-edged sword! On the one hand, I had promised to thank him in any way. I also needed to find Mr. Weasel and the sexpo seemed like the best place to start looking. On the other hand, I so needed to get away from my fellow graduate. I also needed to be quick to find the fierce fatso, so I didn't have time for distractions.

What to do? What to do? Mr. Alum took the decision out of my hand by reaching out to me. Grabbing my arm, he pulled me to my feet. The reptile dude barely let me rearrange my outfit by closing the zipper of my black wetlook leggings and pulling the crop top over my juicy juggs before leading me out of the wellness area.

"That gym outfit looks skanky as fuck, I give you that, Porny." He told me on our way. "I'm a sucker for women in uniform, though. Gotta say I loved your outfits."

With that, he took me to my hotel room and let me change. After all the shredding my outfit had endured, I had kinda hoped to avoid wearing it again. Yet, here I found myself changing my outfit once again.

Shoot! When we stepped into my hotel room, Shelly's outfit was lying around on her bed. The moment my fellow graduate saw it, he wouldn't let me slip back into my stewardess dress anymore. Instead, he ordered me to put on my bitchy rival's clothes.

Remember it? The Japanese schoolgirl uniform? It comprised a navy-blue blouse and a pleated mini skirt of the same color. The blouse also featured a sailor-style collar and red necktie. Of course, I also had to put on the pair of red strappy platform heels that sported the same color as the necktie and included a 6" heel, 1.5" platform, and a cross strap design with open toes. With a tear in my eye, I checked the v-shaped shreds in the back. They were so blatant and full-frontal! Damn!

The moment I slipped into the uniform I felt as awkward as uncomfortable. Not so much 'cause the outfit was more than a size too small, stretching the fabric and making my curves bulge massively. The fact that I hadn't worn a schoolgirl costume for ages made me feel that much more inappropriate and pathetic.

Surprisingly, Mr. Alum let me refresh my makeup, which seemed almost too nice for the douchey dude. Anyhow, I used the chance to put on extra layers of glossy lipstick and smoky eyes to counter the youngish schoolgirl style. Sooner than later, though, my fellow graduate dragged me onto the hallway and to the elevator. He was obviously eager to show off his porno escort, I mean porno bimbo.

SURPRISE!

Stepping into the elevator, we weren't alone as a sales rep was already on his way downstairs.

SURPRISE! SURPRISE!

It was Mr. Weasel. Lucky me! Blessed me! This was my chance to put my hands on the sales champ, or more like get my long, fake claws into him. Actually, I was so staggered by this unexpected chance that I forgot to say a word.

"Hey bitch, I heard your show turned somewhat decent in the end." Mr. Weasel was quick to greet me.

"By the way, your co-whore told me an interesting story." He continued cheerfully. "She said, when you bitches deliver substandard work, you get your outfits shredded. Only when you do a good job, you earn a piece like this."

With that, he held up the ring Ortega had given him. The goal of my dreams! My holy grail! It was so close! Seeing it, my eyes grew wide and I wanted to grab it. Yet, it was so far away! The slimy dude was quicker than me and swiftly stashed it away.

"In the end, only one gets paid 'n the other gets a kick in the ass. Hehehe!" He laughed right into my face while pointing at the shredded back of my uniform. "As I see, you got experience with the losing part, bitch!"

Oh my gawd! So much to cringe about. First, I had to come to terms with the slimy dude calling us co-whores. Then I had to get to grips with him attributing those shreds to my incompetence. But seriously? Why had the blonde bitch told him that story? Why did it shine a bad light on me more than her? Why did it make me feel lower than a hooker for possibly fucking for free? Whysoever! I didn't really get a chance to ask these questions.

"She also told me that workshop was substandard work by you, Assy." Mr. Weasel quickly added.

Alright! Of course, she had said that. There you got your reason why it made me look so bad! That was why it made me feel so low!

"Wait! I can't see no fresh cuts in your dress." Mr. Alum suddenly exclaimed after checking my outfit in detail.

Um... he was right about that, which I shouldn't admit, should I? Better safe than sorry, right? Oh damn! I was too slow to react 'cause the two sales dudes were already exchanging knowing looks.

"Guess we gotta make up for that, don't you agree, Porny?" Mr. Alum asked rhetorically.

I opened my mouth and closed my mouth. Better not say something stupid and fuel the flames, right? After all, they didn't have the right tools with them, as in scissors.

"Can't agree more with that." Mr. Weasel gave his approval. "The bitch's too old anyways. Needs any beautification she can get to keep up with those younger, prettier pornstars at the sexpo."

"I'd say she rather needs a titivation! Hehehe!" My fellow graduate joked.

While the dudes laughed at my costs, I breathed another sigh of relief 'cause still no scissors.

"Good thing we can help with that." The sleazy champ added out of the blue.

With that, he pulled a Swiss Army knife from his pocket. Could you believe it? A fucking pocket knife! Oh damn! That left me blindsided. It left me speechless. As it was, I had a hard time wrapping my head around the fact that the sales reps knew about the competition already. Now, they were also intervening. Holy fuck!

Without hesitation, Mr. Alum took the knife from the sleazy champ. Grasping the navy-blue material covering my boobies, he pulled it off my titty meat, which wasn't easy 'cause it clung so tightly to my juicy juggs. As quickly as nifty, he made a horizontal cut. And with that my eyes grew wide. Why? Cause he had cut a slit across my top from one nipple to the other, only a couple inches beneath them. With the fabric being all tight and stretchy, the cut showed off the curve of my underboobs. Holy shoot!

The reptile dude wasn't done with that, though. Instead, he proceeded to cut up the front of the schoolgirl blouse all the way to the bottom. Each cut was shorter than the previous one, which resulted in the same v-shape as on my back.

"Whoever said gravity's not your friend?" Mr. Weasel commented the handiwork.

"Might be a trashy friend, though." My fellow graduate added to my degradation.

Oh boy! My tear-shaped funbags were super ripe and heavy. So much so that my titty meat basically spilled out of the highest cut. So much so that I reached up to cover my bareness. Oh Lordy! Wearing the silly schoolgirl uniform made me feel awkward and clownish already, but the new shreds made it that much worse.

No matter what, being in my fellow graduate's company made me feel so rational and professional. Just when I should have been the most bimboy and slutty. Just when I should have been the most pleasing and seductive. I felt all prim and proper at the most inopportune moment. That was why I really needed to try hard to pull my hands off my boobies. After all, I had a job to do! No matter who was in on it. No matter what Consultant-me thought of it.

Whatever! My hands had only just left my titties when the elevator doors opened. Bad timing! Cause two dudes stood there ready to enter. That surprise froze me in shock as two random strangers leered at my underboobs while Mr. Weasel stepped out of the elevator. I so wanted to follow, but I couldn't.

Making matters worse, Mr. Alum didn't follow either. What a dilemma! I had to satisfy the sales champ, but I also had to clear my debt with the reptile dude. The decision should have been easy 'cause pity points. Yet, I needed time to decide. Too much time! When I finally made my decision, it was too late. By then the two dudes had stepped inside trapping me in the elevator while the sleazy champ was gone. Damnit! Worse, though, it wasn't two regular guys.

STUNNING SHOCKER! SHOCKING STUNNER!

To say I was bewildered would have been a joke. To say I was perplexed would have been the understatement of the century. I was shell-shocked, so much so that I had never been more sober and rational. All my intentions went out of the window. My bimbo buzz was at an all-time low.

How come? Cause I knew the men stepping inside. I knew them all too well. They were best buddies. More than that, they were my fellow graduate's best buddies from college. Oh no! Oh shoot, oh fuck, oh jeez! This was taking a wrong turn. This was totally going off course.

Back in college, the three dudes had been the ultimate wannabe pick-up artists, hitting on anything with a heartbeat. On a few campus parties, I had clashed with them, going all feminist. Gawd! How much I had loathed these douchebags! So much so that I even remembered their names.

Robbie was the one with the stylish haircut and stylisher beard. He had always cultivated his looks, only wearing expansive clothes and stuff. By contrast, Micky had always been the type of guy who was primarily concerned with his own benefit. Nowadays, they didn't seem to have changed much. Robbie looked like the typical jetset consultant with his tailor-made suit and phony watch, whereas Mickey seemed to be a mercenary type of consultant who would do anything for the right price without a care for ethics. So you guessed right. The names Mr. Jetset and Mr. Mercenary were perfect for them.

I was still paralyzed from shock when Mr. Alum leaned over to me. As he started whispering into my ear, I barely listened. What he said still got me petrified more than ever, even though that seemed impossible.

"Did you really think I wouldn't recognize you, Jessica?" He called me by my actual name. "You almost had me fooled. I gotta give you that."

SHUDDER! SHIVER!

"Certainly, you're hard to recognize, 'cause you're basically wearing a full-body skank suit." He continued. "You don't even sound the same. At least, I never heard that stupid giggle when you called me a sexist douche back in the day."

CRAWLIES! CREEPS!

"Though, when you started talking 'bout those sales strategies, I recognized your voice." He explained. "That's when I remembered something. We had a class together 'n you gave a presentation where you said the same things."

GOOSEBUMPS! HEEBIE-JEEBIES!

"Oh, times they are a changing or rather how the mighty have fallen! Don't you agree, Assy?" He mocked me. "From brown-nosing teacher's pet to attention craving porn whore. Now, that's what I call a career!"

BLUSH! FLUSH!

"You understand I had to call my dawgs, right?" He asked sarcastically. "They needed to see this trainwreck with their own eyes. Would have never believed me otherwise."

BURNING CHEEKS! SCARLET CHEEKS!

"Let's see if my dawgs got as much trouble identifying you. I bet it comes naturally to you but act as silly as before, Porny. Don't wanna make it too easy on them." He suggested. "You manage to dupe them 'n I make it worth your while, Assy."

SWEATY BROWS! CLAMMY PALMS!

I wanted to snap and freak out! I wanted to riot and protest! Why me? Why did I seem to have a monopoly on bad luck? Why did I always end up with the biggest douches of all? Why did I always catch a Tartar? I mean, did you hear him say 'dawgs'? He really did! I mean, how old did he think he was? Once a frat boy always a frat boy, I guess.

Anyhow, it made the three dudes seem that much more douchey, only adding to my rationality. Acting extra bimboy when I felt so rationally was the last thing I wanted to do. Acting extra stupid for these douchey dudes was the very last thing I was happy to do.

However, and this was a big however, I still had to earn that damn point for the out-please-ment center. My emotions and everything else were not important. First, I had to save my job, then I could care about feelings. That was why I needed to be quick about finishing this sexpo tour before I could focus on the sales champ. That was why I agreed to follow Mr. Alum's lead. That was why I put up with his douche dawgs.

"'Sup, dawgs! Awesome you could make it!" He addressed his buddies giving them high fives.

"I know, I'm always bragging 'bout my kick-ass reward workshops, 'n I know, you never believe me." He explained.

"This time, though, I had to invite you 'cause it's some special shit, dawgs!" He sounded super enthused. "We got our personal porno escort to provide our own adult entertainment."