Jessica's Change Management Ch. 23

Exactly, the beige blazer wasn't just super tight at midriff to highlight my hips to the max, it also had a huge, super brash, brown faux fur collar. Yay! The beige heels were platform ankle boots that had a 5" heel, 1" platform, and broad, super flamboyant, brown faux fur trim at the ankles. Yay! Yay! Even though the outfit wasn't too provocative for the office, the fur style gave it the perfect swanky-but not-too-trashy look. So flashy! So eye-catching! So ready to go!

When I arrived at the office, the reception was unoccupied, which was kinda odd and totally against company policy. Anyhow, I knew my way around the place, so I walked all around the lower floor in search for some consultants. After all, I was super eager to show off my beige faux fur blazer, 'cause I had imagined the men's lecherous gazes during the entire drive here.

However, all the consultants seemed to be in external meetings or stuff 'cause I only found Taylor, the black sports jock of an intern with the shy, hesitant demeanor. He had never been the kinda alpha dude to treat me the way I needed, but he was better than nobody, right?

That was why I pranced into the interns' office and had a walk around the desks. Taylor's eyes grew wide but more from surprise than from lechery. Even though I gave my bestest to draw his attention to my outfit, he didn't get a chance to eye me up extensively. Just when I ran my long, fake nails through the faux fur, he received a phone call. Just like that, he picked it up and his attention was gone. More than that, he even gestured me to leave the office. Oh jeez!

This was so disappointing! This was so unrewarding! This was why I headed to the upper floor. Stepping into Ortega's office, it was empty too. Odd again! A chance again! Why? Cause my swanky-but not-too-trashy faux fur style hadn't worked so far. For this reason, I decided to crank it up. How? By opening the upper button of my beige blazer and fully pushing my boobies out so the plunging neckline and uncovered half-globes were on display while the faux fur collar basically corralled my big, ole funbags. On top of that, I knelt down in fronta the desk like a good bimbo pet. Ready!

"Oh my! This here is not the adult convention, I have to say!" Ortega instantly chided me when he stepped into the office and walked around his desk. "We got standards at this company!"

Surprisingly, my former boss didn't step up to me or check out my outfit, not at all. Instead, he gestured me to sit at the desk, acting as if my presence was inconvenient or unpleasant for him. Super odd! Super cruel! After all, I had spent lotsa time on getting all dressed-up for this appointment.

Anyhow, the Latino was obviously in a hurry, 'cause he presented me with an official document as soon as I was sitting on the chair opposite to him. It was a contract termination letter that stated lack of integrity and incompetence as causes for my firing. I really tried to read it 'cause important. However, I got distracted several times. His disregard bothered me way too much. Priorities and all! Totally why I had to take off the blazer first so the smug exec could see the velvet burgundy outfit in all its glory. I just couldn't concentrate before he had complemented me on my bold choice. You hear me?

"Indeed, the dress looks quite expansive. I might wager it costs more than the ditzy doll wearing it, I have to say." Ortega finally allowed himself to say.

The way, he phrased his praise gave me a short pause. However, he had said my outfit looked expansive, right? He had also said it made me look like a doll, hadn't he? So, yay and yay!

I had just restarted reading the document when it occurred to me that I hadn't shown him the gifts he had bought for me. After all, I was still wearing all the rings I had earned like a good cum-petitor, wasn't I?

"I'm afraid, you couldn't type or dial or hold any useful item if your life depended on it. I suppose that is why you lost the out-pleasement center, Miss Bimbo." He didn't offer any more praise.

Oh well! One compliment a day was more than usual from the snobby exec, so I didn't really take it to heart.

"I believe that makes you Miss Loser or should I say Miss Loose-Whore?" He added in the haughtiest way ever. "Never mind, you have zero value for me or my company now, I conclude."

Oh woah! Loose-Whore?!? Way too cruel! Way too spiteful! Totally enraging! Totally inciting! So much so that I really took it to heart.

Even though I tried, I realized that there was no sense in me reading the fine print. I didn't really get the details of the contract anyway 'cause my brain was drifting off time and again. Instead of focusing on the agreement details, my mind was spinning around ways to regain my title of 'Miss Bimbo'. Priorities and all! Whatever! The evidence presented in the termination letter sounded way too ironclad, so much so that I wouldn't get any kinda compensation. My job was over and done! Gettit girl!

What stood out the most from the contract signing in the end? That Ortega was right. With my super long nails and chains and rings, I barely managed to hold a pen. The result looked more like a first-grader's scribbling than an authentic signature. Oh my gawd! Apparently, being a bimbo meant being a loose-whore. Being a bimbo meant being useless in an office. Being a bimbo meant having jerky tools as hands. Oh wow! The realization sent a jolt through my pussy that was super vigorous, so much so that it almost made me slip off the chair. Too bad, I wasn't done with my visit, 'cause I woulda totally loved to rub and finger my sopping pussy.

Sitting in Ortega's office and reading that long-winded contract had been tedious enough. However, the smug exec wouldn't let me go before I had transferred all the remaining documents to my successor. The new senior consultant was already waiting for me in my former office. Oh Lordy! Whoever it was, he hadn't even bothered to wait for me to officially leave the company before hogging my office, the place I had spent more time than in my actual home. Just like that! Badaboom!

Even though it was right across the hall on the upper floor, I had to rush to the ladies' room first. Why? Easy! I had to check on my make-up and plump-up my lips. Duh! After all, my successor could be one of the 'funbag boys'. He would so appreciate a good ole-fashioned peak down my cleavage, right? He would so compliment me on my swanky-but-not-too-trashy faux fur style, wouldn't he? Maybe, we could take a coffee break and do some fun stuff, like a twerk break, before starting the boring parts.

Anyhow, the moment I walked into the office, I almost backpedaled straight away. Why? Cause the new manager was Marcus. Remember him? The career-driven dude who had filed a complaint against me before. The stickler for order who was a bit younger than me and sported a neat, clean, totally business-appropriate crew cut. The workaholic who was no fun at all. Oh dang!

When I had gathered myself and stepped in fronta the desk, my former team member barely noticed me or my outfit. He didn't even look at my faux fur collar or plunging neckline! From the get-go, he was all business-like. Too bad! Right now, I woulda taken any kinda remark 'cause a back-handed comment was better than no comment at all. You know, any press is good press, right?

This was really disappointing! This was really unrewarding! This was so bad it actually made me pout! Grrr!

"I don't have time for coffee breaks." He brushed away my initial suggestion. "I wasted enough time sorting through your files already. What a mess!"

"Nobody ever told you order is the top priority?" He wasn't in a good mood. "Let's get this over with and fast."

"It's, like, a creative order!" I pouted kinda bitchy in response. "Fer shure, you gotta, like, let your creative juices flow, you know, to find inspiration 'n solutions in projects."

"Yeah! I bet it's as creative as your latest management analyses." He scoffed, totally not getting my hint.

Oh wow! This workaholic dude was really riling me up. He wasn't looking at my invitingly plumped-up mouth or my faux fur collar or my boobies bulging outta the neckline. I was a disturbance and annoyance instead of a sex object or pinup girl for him. My super pretty assets didn't exist as far as he was concerned. That was totally disappointing! That was totally unrewarding!

"Okie! I see you like getting head, I mean getting ahead." I gave it another try.

Even though I acted like Miss Obvious here, he didn't bite, remaining totally indifferent. Hello?!? Are you daft or what? There was an ultra hot bimbo in your office ready to apologize any way you liked! I so felt the urge to fall to my knees and plead and beg. I so felt the need to show him how to fuck a bimbo doll in perfect order. I so felt the need to demonstrate how to get a bimbo's creative juices flowing. That was why I instantly went to my tried-and-tested replacement activity of twirling my long chestnut-golden tresses and giggling stupidly.

Oh dang! It didn't have the teasing effect it usually had on men. Totally the opposite! The workaholic dude seemed more annoyed than ever, so much so that he scoffed loudly. Grrr! This idiot only had eyes for his stupid documents and rattled down a list of questions that were super specific, so much so that I forgot half of it.

Mega unmotivated, I started answering the questions I remembered. A coupla were really easy to explain. However, I had some problems elaborating on the monitoring processes I had used lately. Totally unsurprising! Cause the last weeks, I had been way too busy entertaining Ortega and the interns to monitor any kinda work stuff. Yet, I couldn't exactly say that to the dude, could I?

"You know, I didn't really, like, employ the usual risk monitoring processes. You know, the stuff you, like, learn in college." I tried to bluff it out. "Way too uncreative! Sorry not sorry!"

"What did you go to college for then?" Marcus asked in response. "Not to learn project management. That much is clear."

"Oh, my primary goal in college, you know, was to, like, meet cute guys." I replied ad hoc.

This was his chance to jump at the opportunity and give it a go. My former team member coulda told me that he had been one of those cute guys or frat boys or athletes at college. He coulda told me that he could still keep it up with the current crop of students. He didn't.

"Why did you start working here then?" Marcus asked instead, apparently as surprised as repulsed.

"Oh, you see, as a consultant, you meet lotsa business-men, like, super rich men with big houses 'n lotsa cash to spend on their girls." I said as if it was self-explanatory.

This was his chance to tell me he was a senior consultant and manager now, as in a rich dude. He didn't. Again! Instead, he only gave me a headshake. Dang! What a dull dude! What a boring dude!

I kinda gave up, rolling my eyes in the most dramatic way, before answering his next work-related question. After a coupla more explanations, however, I lost the golden thread 'cause I got distracted.

"You know what I, like, learned recently?" I asked instead. "Work-life-balance! That's, like, super important, fer shure!"

"Yeah, right! I call that being bone-idle! Success is no accident." Marcus remained unimpressed. "The price of success is hard work. That's what you clearly prove."

"You know what's, like totally, way importanter?" I continued failing to hear the slight. "Burst jobs!"

"I mean, working in small bursts. Duh!" I quickly added when I heard him scoffing again. "You know, the power of taking short breaks at work. It's so super reenergizing, like totes! You should give it a try, for real!"

To emphasize my point, I put my hands around my plumped-up lips, kinda like forming a megaphone and shouted: 'Dance Break'. As the workaholic watched as flabbergasted as aghast, I busted out the bestest dance move ever, as in the floss. You know the move? Taking a wide stance, I formed fists and started swinging my hips. Keeping my arms straight, I flailed them to the opposite side with one arm finishing in the front and the other in the back of my body.

Repeating the move with increasing speed, I tried my bestest to get the workaholic dude to leer at my boobies. The hectic arm-flailing made the faux fur flap and fly. It also caused a near nipple slip 'cause plunging neckline. Despite my efforts, Marcus still didn't look at my assets, rolling his eyes more than ever.

"Oh wow! Now, I'm, like, so ready to focus back on the task." I eventually gave up, putting the back of my hand to my forehead like wiping off some sweat.

"You wanna, like, take a goo burst, too? I mean, a good burst?" I asked my former employee, dropping another not-so-subtle hint.

"Damn it!" He replied instead. "Stop wasting company time and let's get this over with!"

"It's about time this company stops these alternative career opportunities, like letting office bikes ride their way up the corporate ladder. It's been going on far too long." He added with a hiss.

Oh my god! This time, it was Marcus' turn to drop a super unsubtle hint. What a totally blatant accusation! My former employee accused me of sleeping my way to the top, didn't he? The dude was so right and so not right at the same time. I mean, I had never slept with the CEO or with somebody from HQ. Yet, I couldn't deny some sorta intimate knowledge of Ortega, could I?

Whatever! I opted to leave that accusation unanswered and focused on his next work-related question instead. Oh jeez! He was staring at those records like they were the sexiest thingie in the room. I couldn't take it! I couldn't handle it! I so needed his attention on my body. I so needed his compliments for my looks.

Here and then, I had had enough! I was way too fed up! Turning around, I stormed outta the room, literally blowing smoke outta my nose like a sexy red dragon. I totally needed to cool my temper, or else I woulda slapped that dull dude! What a disregard! What a disrespect!

To calm down, I tottered around the office space until I stood in the office kitchen. I decided to get a cold drink to cool off when some thingie in the fridge caught my attention. What it was? An ice lolly, as in a push-pop. You know the kind? The ones in a cardboard tube you squeeze from the bottom.

It was perfect, so much so that I instantly grabbed one. Making my way back to my office, I mean Marcus' office, I started sucking on the orange popsicle. I had the purr-fect plan to get the workaholic dude's attention.

"Brain food, for real!" I told the dull stickler when I returned. "I need that, you know, to get refocused 'n reenergized, like totes!"

While giving that bullshit excuse, I sat down at the desk face-to-face with the workaholic dude. I started sliding my fists up and down the cardboard tube. Basically, I was giving it an awesome handjob. As I had said before, my hands with all the rings and chains and long fake nails looked like jerky tools to wank cocks anyway. Tihi!

Whatever! My jerky action had a double effect. It melted the ice pop so I could squeeze it out and it directed all attention to my accessorized hands. In theory at least. In practice, however, the dull stickler wasn't interested in looking at my wank action or jerky tools or whatsoever. Dang!

It only spurred me on to take this to the next level, though. No way I would give up! As if! I would get his attention one way or the other. If not, my bimbo pride would take a severe hit. If not, I would let down all my friends from 'Bimbo Nation'. I so couldn't let that happen. I so wouldn't let that happen.

The second part was about to become epic anyway. When I squeezed the orange popsicle outta the tube, I started licking on it like it was the tastiest meaty shaft ever. First off, I twirled my tongue around the ice pop, and then I licked along its length in the most dramatic way ever. All my effort only earned me a brief glance, though. Shoot!

Never mind! This was only the beginning. I was about to make full use of my plumped-up pout. Opening my bulbous lips, I pushed the popsicle into my mouth and pushed and pushed, so much so that the ice pop really scraped all along my pout. Could you believe it! I was actually deepthroating a popsicle here! For real! So real that it made me gag. That earned me another glance although it was more like grumpy than any other thingie.

Whatever! By now, I took every little thingie I could get. An annoyed look was better than no look, right? That was why I cranked up the action and really started sliding that ice pop in and out of my mouth, going as deep as possible with every push.

"Urgh! Urgh!" I gagged although I tried to keep it kinda low-key 'cause swanky-but-not-too-trashy.

Another brief glance! Another peevish look! Another success... sorta!

Encouraged by that, I started talking about the next question Marcus had posed. After every sentence, I gagged myself on the popsicle. As if I needed a taste to refocus my mind, as in cool my brain to keep it from overheating after that mental strain. So silly! Not so unreasonable!

"Urgh! Urgh!" I gagged slightly.

More brief glances! More peevish looks! More success... sorta!

With all the sucking after every sentence, my explanation took a really long time. I was way too caught up in the moment to realize it, but I guess I was overdoing it here. Why? Cause Marcus was getting increasingly irritated and vexed. His voice was getting really testy and he was basically bristling at me.

"Oh! You, like, wanna help me finish this?" I asked super innocently in response.

"Unbelievable! I'll be damned!" The dull stickler exclaimed in total bewilderment. "Is this some kind of exit prank or are you trying to sabotage me?"

Oh jeez! The boring dude had totally misunderstood my intent. Actually, it had made the opposite impression and winded him up that much more.

This was super frustrating! This was super unrewarding! This was making me pout in reaction.

No matter what, my eyes lit up when the workaholic got off his chair and walked around the desk. When he stepped in fronta me, he took the cardboard tube outta my hand, which made my heart skip a beat. He was finally taking charge! So excited! So jittery!

He was about to take the popsicle off my hands and finally focus on my plumped-up mouth and fashionable outfit, wasn't he? He was about to take matters in his own hands and make me the passive bimbo doll, wasn't he? He was about to show me that his meaty tool was that much better than an ice pop, right? He wasn't.

Actually, he didn't do any of that stuff. Instead, the dull stickler turned around and threw the popsicle into the trash basket with a super repulsed look! Oh darn! Oh dang! My pouty mouth gaped open in surprise 'cause I had expected any kinda thingie but that. This was max disappointing! This was max unrewarding!

"I have no further questions. I have a hunch you can't give me any more viable information anyway." He told me without mincing matters.

"I suppose you outlived your usefulness here." He kinda repeated Ortega's statement in the most spiteful tone. "You checked out long ago anyway. Too bad management didn't react sooner."

"By the looks of it, you already booked yourself a role on some trashy reality show or started vying to become an instatrash star." He snorted in an über-annoyed way.

"So go and learn something 'bout fake tanning or botched plastic surgeries." He basically waved me off like swatting a fly away.

With that the boring dude put his head back into the folder and didn't pay me any further attention. Worst case ever! Worst disappointment ever! My desire and yearning for attention were massive, so much so that I was ready to do whatever. It was kinda compulsive, or more like libidinous or whatever fancy term. That was why I considered pushing my boobies outta my neckline and shoving them right into the idiot's face. He woulda probably continued staring at his dumb documents right through my cleavage, though. Umph!