Jessica's Change Management Ch. 26

REVERIE!

What a daydream! For a moment, I saw it happening in fronta my inner eye before it vanished as soon as it had surfaced. That was when reality caught up with me. Pout! What really happened?

Oh woah! I found myself stepping outta my car when Justy pushed me over to the staff door around the side. Having to enter via the servants' door, I made an under-the-radar entrance. Sulking from the offense, my trout pout was almost as dramatic as my outfit. Every clicking sound of my high heels was accompanied by a nasty look from the waitresses. As the party was already in full swing, they realized that their eagerly awaited service support was totally misdressed for the job. Brushing past me with their trays in hand, I didn't dare telling them that I was supposed to be the hostess. What an insulting reception!

Remember that El Rey had explicitly chosen me for my business savvy? Remember that I was supposed to be the host greeting the guests? All of that didn't seem to matter much as Justy told me to wait in the paltry. So, I found myself standing there kinda forlorn while a coupla waitresses bustled around and glared at me. Oh jeez! Nobody had told me that the party started earlier than advertised. Nobody had told me a lotta thingies as I was about to find out.

Anyhow, I had to wait until the door opened and a good-humored Ortega waltzed into the pantry. He looked at me and grinned from ear to ear, literally like the cat who swallowed the canary.

"Who are you? And what did you do to my waitress, I have to ask?" He welcomed me all playfully.

Oh my god!

"Looks like someone could hardly wait to go on a plastic surgery binge, I have to say." He added with a chuckle. "Indeed, you weren't sophisticated enough to pull off a naturally sexy look. Fake and tacky rather suits your style, I have to admit."

Oh my gosh!!

"However, I have to inform you, this is a high-class cocktail party." Ortega became all serious. "I'm afraid, I have to find a replacement, since I cannot have the sight of a low-class trash whore spoil my guests' evening."

Oh my gawd!!

Oh, no! Oh no, no, no! He couldn't do that! He wouldn't do that! After all, he wasn't calling the shots around here. I was the hostess of the evening, 'cause I had invited all the guests and organized the event. I lay down the law here...

...which I didn't.

"I have to say, you should show more gratitude, Miss Bimbo. After all, I'm saving your big event by providing the venue, am I not? Indeed, it seems to me that it has quite the importance for you." My former boss quickly cut me off. "No location, no party, am I right?

"I'm afraid, it's my house, my rules, ditzy doll." He told me before I had a chance to object. "Do what I say or get out. Those are my terms."

"Sending you away would be the decent thing to do, indeed. However, it might be a bit too late for that." He clarified. "You might get lucky. If, and that is a big if, you behave! No backtalk, no arrogance."

Holy fudge! In just a coupla seconds, the smug Latino had managed to disrespect me and put me down a peg. In just a coupla words, the arrogant exec had managed to unsettle me and throw me off the track.

Jeezus, diva! That's the opposite of what we tried to achieve with our beautifications. Whatever, chica! A stuck-up prig like him will never understand that plastic's fantastic. Just another hater! Wait, bimbo band! Let's see what Ortega cooked up so we can work around it.

Sounds like a plan! All the more, as I couldn't lose this opportunity. What would Perez say if he heard that I chickened out? How would he react if he heard that I gave up at the least resistance? I better not wanted to find out. That was why I hastily nodded in approval. Backtalk and arrogance weren't bimbo attributes anyway. Consent and obedience were totally bimbo attributes by contrast!

"I have to say, you and Danny had a couple passable ideas." Ortega continued. "For this to work, however, I decided to hand the reigns to a more competent manager, as in me, of course."

Oh gulp! Of course, the smug exec had taken over the planning and organizing. Duh! Oh gasp! That wouldn't spell good thingies for me, would it?

"The 'bad taste' motto? That might work for some obscure frat boy kegger but not for a refined, cultured cocktail event." My former boss told me. "I thus changed the motto and made it a 'suit-and-ties' event with a Venetian carnival theme."

Oh my god, vulg-ho! It had been such a great idea. It had been such a super sneaky plan. Now, we're totally gonna stand out in a bad way! Drama, damsel! He's totally disrespecting our choices and banning us from the spotlight. Don't hyperventilate, bimbo band! If Ortega hates our appearance so much, he probably got an alternative at hand.

"Self-evidently, I elected myself to host the party. After all, we don't want any unforeseen incidents, which would be inevitable with an incompetent hostess, I'm afraid." He blatantly hinted at me.

"Don't you worry, Miss Bimbo! I still have a role for you to play. One you're considerably more suited for, indeed." The smug exec offered some hope. "You're going to be one of my waitresses, I have decided."

No way, diva! He gotta be kidding! We can't be his waitress. We gotta network and socialize. Then again, chica! The sexy waitress is a total bimbo thingie, isn't it? What a chance to hog the limelight. Composure, bimbo band! We can use the waitressing to get a foot in the door. We spotlight our assets to lure the dudes in. Once they're hooked, we broach the matchmaking.

"Okie, sirrr, fine! I'll be your bimbo barmaid, service slut, whatever waitress." I hesitantly agreed, putting my hands on my hips to show some kinda reluctance.

"But on one condition only. I got a super special assignment from Perez, you know, a key task, like a critical role. For real!" I quickly insisted. "So, I need some space to perform that task!"

"Like I cared, Miss Bimbo!" Ortega wasn't completely averse, 'cause he knew better than to mess with the LGZ lord. "Do your job first. If I don't hear any complaints, I might free up some space, indeed."

Okie! It wasn't the sweetest deal, but it was a start. Even if my matchmaking was postponed, it wasn't cancelled. Right, diva? So right, chica! Absolutely right, bimbo band!

"Nonetheless, I cannot let you out there wearing those rags, understandably enough. Otherwise, my guests might go blind." My former boss wasn't done, wrinkling his nose in the hammiest way ever. "Lucky you, I prepared for this precise occasion. If I may be frank, I didn't expect anything else from you, ditzy doll."

OMG! It was true. Ortega had an alternative ready. All the same, I gasped when he pointed to a chair in a corner. I gasped way louder when I noticed a buncha clothes placed on the seat. I gasped the loudest when I realized that the smug exec had already prepared an entire outfit. Holy moly! All the worries about my styling, all the wardrobe changes, all the time spent on getting dolled-up, all of that had been for naught. Even if Ortega wasn't my boss any longer, he was still making the decisions. It was the ultimate demonstration of dominance and control. Gasp!

Jeezus, vulg-ho! With just a few words, the pompous snob has made us feel small and inept. He's treating us like some dumb trailer park princess who can't even pick the right dress. Whatever, damsel! He just couldn't handle our flashy outfit 'cause it woulda made a bigger impression than his boring suit. Don't jump the gun, bimbo band! Let's see what the outfit entails first.

"Sir?" I asked when Ortega didn't elaborate any further.

"Yes, Miss Bimbo?" The smug exec asked back, seemingly annoyed.

Sheesh! My sheer presence seemed to be much to his chagrin. The tone of his voice made it obvious that he was anxious to get back to his guests and be done with this nuisance, or more like this bimbo bother. His annoyance was palpable, so much so that it made me look around as sheepishly as insecure.

"Um... where am I, like, supposed to change, you know, to put on your outfit 'n all?" I eventually inquired.

Once more, he grinned, literally like a Cheshire cat. Making a sweeping gesture, he almost turned a pirouette as if presenting the entire room. Just then two female servers brushed past me, giving me the evil eye. By now, their nasty looks had become lotsa more dismissive as I was holding everybody up. Duh!

"The room is yours, indeed." Ortega elaborated. "It is not like they won't see you bare naked, I'm afraid."

Oh boy! I so shouldn't have been surprised, should I? After all, tits-out was kinda like my business these days. Actually, it was the normalest thingie for me by now. Tihi! Anyhoo, with that question settled, Ortega didn't even wait for me to get changed. Instead, he turned around and waltzed outta the paltry and back to the party.

All resigned, I whipped off the spandex crop top and started changing. Oh Lordy! I woulda loved watching the smug exec's face when seeing my monster melons for the first time in all their fake fame. Oh boy! Not even that was granted to me. And here I thought a party was supposed to be fun. Pout! Anyhow, it was what it was, so I had to continue stripping off my vinyl Cheeta-print mini skirt and neon pink thong. As all my clothes had to go, it also included my precious new ankle boots and the black fencenet stockings that I had just donned on my neighbor's recommendation. Dang! Handing my clothes over to Justy, he randomly threw them onto the ground in a corner. Oh jeez! The way my new clothes were treated like a disposable commodity really made me drop a coupla tears. This so wasn't some replaceable gear! This so wasn't some throwaway fashion! Sniff!

Standing there buck-naked, I gazed at the other barmaids in envy. They were wearing waitress uniforms right outta the Twenties in cranberry red with a midi skirt length. The apron, collar, and cuffs were bordered all around with white rickrack, creating a scalloped edge. It looked totally vintage and super stylish, which perfectly fit the masquerade ball theme.

By comparison, Ortega's costume was really different as it was a lingerie set. Holy moly! The set comprised a lacy teddy that featured two suspenders and a plunging v-shape front. Starting from the crotch, the lacy suspenders basically ran up my bust and torso. Reaching over my shoulders, they connected with an adjustable T-strap backside, which was attached to a micro thong. On top of that, the lingerie set included adjustable black garters and a pair of black sheer stockings. As shoes, Ortega had provided a pair of elegant black 6inch satin sandals, featuring a pleated, criss-cross strap design, a zip up heel with large bow accent, and a 1.5inch black platform. Pant!

Even if the lacy outfit looked really high-class, it was no more than a tiny sling shot monokini. Gasp! By and large, the two suspenders were barely broad enough to cover my areolas. Actually, they were just about the width of my tanlines on my extra expensive, extrawhordinary endowments. In addition, the monokini was mega taut, so much so that the back string dug into my butt crack and the suspenders stuck out from my fat, fake funbags.

Holy cannoli! Looking at the waitresses, I could understand their dislike and their sinister looks. After all, I was the bimbo barmaid dressed up in a super slutty way whereas they were clad in a modest manner. On top of that, I was earning my tips with my jumbo juggs while they were getting footsore from all the running and serving. Basically, I was taking the money they deserved for their hard work. So no appreciation or admiration to gain here! Gulp!

Anyhow, there wasn't much I could change about it, was there? That was why I continued putting on the heels when Ortega reappeared. Once more, he seemed uncharacteristically good-humored. It was totally obvious how much he enjoyed hosting such a big, important event for the local high society. Oh dang! Literally, another stab through my heart.

"Indeed, that is a stupendous bust fitting a stupid bust." The Latino manager said, making me frown in response.

"Of course, it is self-evident, but I mean bust as in dummy or mannequin if I may explain it for the ignorant." He elaborated in the smuggest way ever. "After all, there seems to be more tissue in those massive mammaries than in that airhead of yours, I suppose."

"Still, you take too much inspiration from trash TV or whichever millennial beauty hack is the latest craze, it seems." He wasn't fully satisfied. "What is it with this ugly duckling face, I wonder."

Oh my god! What a pompous ass! What a douchebag! The smug condescendence was basically palpable! Literally another stab through my heart. Darn!

"I can't have the business elite see this, whatever it is supposed to be." The Latino exec elaborated, twirling his hand in fronta my face as if he was pointing to the fake fleshy tubes around my mouth. "Mercifully, I was prepared."

Oh my gawd! What a dirty bastard! What a macho! The misguided misogyny was basically palpable. Definitely another stab through my heart. Dang!

Unfazed by my scowl, Ortega continued grinning and produced some item from behind his back. At first look, I couldn't tell what it was. On closer inspection, my eyes grew wide in shock and bewilderment and indignation and outrage.

What it was? A mask. No kidding!

"This, my ditzy doll, is a moretta mask. The name is derived from the Italian word 'moro' which means 'dark' due to its color." He started explaining. "But don't you worry your pretty little head about that. You just need to remember the word 'moro'. Indeed, that should not be too difficult. Just say that you are a 'moron with a moro'."

Oh boy! I couldn't tell what was worse. The mask or the insult. Both, I guess. Actually, the fact that Ortega was about to make me wear a mask shouldn't be that much of a surprise 'cause masquerade ball. Duh! However, it was the style of the mask that made all the difference in the world.

"It is a Venetian mask, reserved exclusively for women." The Latino elaborated turning the black mask in his hand to give me a better view. "The reason is to make women look mysterious and intriguing if I may say so."

"Covering one's face in order to appear more attractive might seem like a contradiction to a pretty little airhead like you but according to the logic of Venetian women that was not the case." He continued. "Covering your ugly duckling mouth and skanky face to make it more attractive, by contrast, is without contradiction, I have to say."

Oh Lordy! The humiliation was worse! Ugly duckling mouth? As if! More like, tempting pucker pout! Skanky face? No way! More like, dramatic queen brows! No matter what, the mask's style was the worsest! After all, it covered most of my face. Absolutely, another stab through my heart. Damn!

"Don't you worry, Miss Bimbo. As it happens, there is a fun aspect for you too. I'm sure you will enjoy it greatly." The smug exec added with a chuckle. "It might be a tad uncomfortable indeed, but that's the way fashion has always been, hasn't it?"

"See this button? The moretta is kept in place by the button held by your front teeth." He finished with a thorough laughter. "You are thus forced to stay silent, I'm afraid. Maybe, the Venetian women were known for being too chatty, just like you?"

Please, what? Seriously, what?!? This had to be a joke! The smug exec was bullshitting me, wasn't he? The Latino manager was punking me, wasn't he?

...he wasn't!

Instead, he exploited the situation when my jaw dropped from astonishment. Oh my god! Before I knew what was happening, I was biting on that button to hold the mask in place. Oh my fudging god!

The small oval mask was made of black velvet and really covered my mouth, nose, and forehead. It only revealed the shape of my face and eyes through round peepholes. What about my matchmaking mission? What about my brilliant brokering? What about my smiles and small talk?

It was too much! It was literally throwing a wrench in my works! That was why I started protesting. In doing so, I almost let the mask slip from my lips and off my face. As I bit my tongue, or more like the button, my objection resulted in muffled mumbling only. Whatever! An annoyed look by Ortega was all it took to shut me up.

Truth be told, there wasn't much to protest anyways. I had to work this cocktail party for LGZ, and I had to act according to the organizer aka Ortega. After all, he was providing the venue. So it was literally his way or the highway. Umph!

My former boss wasn't done, though. Instead, he swiftly grabbed my hips and turned me around. With his hand on my back, he made me bent forward. Once again, I almost lost that darn mask when I gasped in response. Why? Cause Ortega had caught me unawares by thrusting some kinda plug up my pussy. Despite my astonishment, though, it was kinda nice in size and shape as it pleasantly stretched my cunny.

However, I was soon mumbling and humming a buncha groans and moans 'cause it wasn't simply a plug but a vibrator. More specifically, it was a remote-controlled wearable vibrator that came with an app. As a result, it could be controlled via a push button on any smartphone. And with controlled, I mean that Ortega could choose from 10 different vibe settings. Gulp!

That was it! I was standing in the paltry with a coupla waitress wenches, who were dressed in stylish vintage server uniforms and hustling around me. By contrast, I was only clad in a hint of an outfit, as in a lace sling shot monokini, fishnet stockings, and high heels. Oh, not to forget the mask. Whereas I had that darn moretta mask hiding my entire face, the servers wore red velvet valentina masks that only just covered their eyes and forehead. Gasp!

Evidently, a bimbo barmaid didn't need any more clothes to serve guests. For this reason, Ortega led me from the paltry to the foyer. Oh man! His mansion was really made for events like this, what with all the rooms and furnishing and décor. Apparently, the party was taking place in the banquet hall and ballroom 'cause I heard the buzz and noise coming from there. However, I didn't get to see any guests as my former rival quickly led me up the stairs. Oh jeez! I felt so stupid holding that mask between my lips while looking through those peepholes.

Anyways, when we walked into the lush recreation area, there was a small group of people lounging around. Apparently, the billiard and games rooms functioned as a refuge 'cause there was no music playing so people had a chance to chat and talk. Actually, the banquet hall and ballroom seemed to be the official event area whereas this was a special VIP room for backroom decisions and secret collusion and stuff like that. Oh my gosh! I was getting back-roomed here!

Regardless of the rooms or areas, the entire party appeared super stylish and nifty. The décor was so art nouveau. Stylistically, every little thingie was reminiscent of the Roaring Twenties as if we had stepped into a cabaret. Apparently, it was all about partying like Gatsby. Obviously, Ortega had spared no expense or effort.

Oh right! The guests! They were all dressed up to the nines, as in super fancy and high class, what with suits and ties and cocktail gowns and all. Mostly, though, everybody was wearing Venetian masks in a wide variety of styles. Apparently, it was all about partying with eyes wide shut. Obviously, the idea had been a total success 'cause there was a rambunctious, lascivious mood in the air.

Side effect? I couldn't recognize most of the ladies and gentlemen. Oh jeez! I had personally invited these high society folks as honorable hostess, but now I had to serve them as bimbo barmaid. What a contrast! What a fall from grace! In that regard, the masks were kinda beneficial 'cause I didn't know who I served and they didn't know who was serving them.