Jessica's Change Management Ch. 26

"Please, everybody! If you may listen for a moment." Ortega called the VIPs' attention as soon as we had entered.

"I have to say, I feel honored and humbled to be assigned the responsibility of celebrating the small business owners in our district." He raised his glass. "Indeed, it is well deserved since small businesses are an integral part of our community."

What a bunch of hogwash! Ortega didn't give a fudge about the local business community. He was only interested in his own benefit. More than that, the smug exec had never felt humble in his entire life.

"I am delighted to have you all here." He really acted like a master of ceremonies spreading his arms in an inviting gesture. "I am proud to say, we have gathered the city's finest and brightest tonight."

"Let me thus start with a round of well-deserved toasts if I may. The first one, I'm happy to say, goes to Stanton, Erickson & Partners who have always been on hand with their professional help and legal advice." He pointed his glass to a group of three men who were obviously representing the law firm.

"The second toast, as well-deserved as any, goes to Perez Corp for believing in our vision for their restaurants." He gave another nod to two men standing at the bar. "At long last, we finally have the go-ahead to expand the 'Latin Gastronomic Zone' franchise, I'm honored to announce."

Please what? Seriously? He was talking about LGZ, wasn't he? I hadn't known that the gang owned the taco joint, but it was obvious that Perez and Ortega were planning to expand the business. They were really working closely with each other, weren't they? That musta been the reason why Checo and Chuy had been loading the truck before. Even so, I was pretty sure that they hadn't been loading up foodstuff exclusively. So weird! So mysterious!

"The final toast goes to my employees who worked hard through our recent restructuring process." Ortega continued. "Beyond the change management and sales department, we are proud to announce the founding of a third division."

Oh boy! He was talking about me, wasn't he? My demotion from team leader to sexretary and resextionist had totally been a change management process, as much for me as for the firm. Yet, it didn't really necessitate a third division. Totally weird! Totally mysterious!

"Let me be the first to present our new financial service department." The Latino's voice rose in excitement. "With that said, I'm proud to announce our newest department head. It is more than deserved if I may say so."

"Welcome with me Mr. Lambert as head and Mr. Willis as assistant manager." The smug exec concluded with a raised glass of bubbly. "Indeed, I'm equally pleased to welcome Mr. Clark as my successor and new head of the sales department with Mr. Wolfe as assistant manager."

JAW DROP! MASK DROP!

...almost!

In fact, the button slipped from my mouth, but I managed to grasp the moretta just in time to keep it on my face! Over-the-top? Not exactly! Too much drama? Not really! After all, my astonishment was for good reason. Why? Cause four men stepped into the recreation room following Ortega's introduction.

Oh my gawd! I knew all of them! Of course, I did since they had been my colleagues until recently. Remember Lambert and Clark? Not that difficult, I know. They were the two senior consultants who had never taken me seriously or accepted me as their superior. Now, they had taken my place as team managers. Gulp!

Worse than that, though, I knew their assistants lotsa closer. Mr. Willis and Mr. Wolfe were actually Damon and Eric, aka the 'funbag boys'. My two former team members who had enjoyed my transformation the most and barely hidden their sexual innuendos towards me. In a way, they had been my mentees before, and now they were surpassing me in status by a wide margin. Gasp!

Worst of all? They were here as special guests, so they weren't about to leave any time soon. As a result, I had no chance to avoid serving them one way or the other, did I? No matter how hard I tried to evade them, it was inevitable. A cheer for the moretta! A cheer for the irony! Duh!

"If I may say so, all of you have contributed outstanding service to our local business community, and thus deserve a special treatment. Therefore, I'm delighted to say, there is a special treat for you today." Ortega suddenly picked his speech back up.

With a look over his shoulder, he grinned at me as smugly as fudge. But mostly, he gestured me to step next to him. When I was in position, another surprise hit me outta the blue.

JAW DROP! MASK DROP!

...within a hair's breadth!

Frantically lifting my arm, I barely dodged the bullet. In fact, I was pretty sure that my fake, thinned eyebrows got revealed before I could grasp the mask. Overexaggerated? Not exactly! Too much hysteria? Not really! Once again, I had panicked for good reason, 'cause another woman walked into the room and stepped over to Ortega's left side.

Holy moly! I had expected lotsa stuff but not this. Ortega's hubris didn't know any limits, did it? Holy cannoli! I wasn't the only bimbo barmaid in the VIP area! Instead, I got competition. A fact that made me feel so bimboy, as in totally interchangeable and disposable. I really was just another service slut for Ortega. That much was certain!

Oh, you ask about that woman? She was wearing the same outfit, as in the black lacy monokini and black velvet moretta mask. Beyond that, she was about my height, probably 5'6", with a slender athletic body, smooth golden bronze skin, and sleek straight pitch-black hair that almost reached down to her lower back. In contrast to me, she had small perky boobies that looked like natural B-cups. Oh, and lotsa more tattoos, as in arm sleeves and an angel winged tramp stamp that framed her booty.

Wait a second! I totally recognized that tramp stamp. Of course! She was the LGZ chica that D-Rod had brought to the frat party! Remember? The one in the bombshell breastaurant uniform. Gasp! Maybe, she was the hoodrat who was keeping Checo busy and uninterested in me. Possibly, D-Rod had reactivated her to help out, 'cause he valued her slut skills. Certainly, she had been a hit at the frat party, so she would be a hit here. Gulp!

"I'm delighted to announce that these two pretty pinups will take all your orders." Ortega was back in his role as master of ceremonies. "Indeed, they will make sure to provide you with everything you desire, so as to make this a memorable evening for you."

With that, he toasted into the round of VIP guests and the masquerade ball picked up buzz.

Oh wow! I found myself in the lush recreation area ready to establish contacts and socialize with friends and business partners and fellow entrepreneuses. I was about to be entertained in style, as I reveled in my social standing. Then and there, I was super glad about wearing that fancy outfit. More than that, I was super glad about my soft skills. Why? Cause they made me appear that much less like another over-eager female high potential and that much more like the queen bee. In that role, I raised my eyebrow super smugly to prove my social superiority when I derisively assessed the waitress asking for my order.

REVERIE!

What a daydream! That high-class socializing mighta gone down like that a year ago. That was then, this was now, however. The current reality looked way differently.

Oh woah! I found myself face-to-face with the room full of guests ready to serve and wait on my former friends and business partners and fellow entrepreneuses. I was here for their entertainment and amusement, as I was facing them stripped of all dignities and social standing. Then and there, I was super glad about wearing that moretta mask. More than that, I was super glad about my new fat fake funbags and tramp tattoos. Why? Cause they made me look that much less like Miss Addams the senior consultant and that much more like Jessie the B.I.M.B.O.

Watching the guests, I saw their eyes roaming to my chest, or more like to the stupendous bust of the stupid bust as Ortega had called it. For sure, my bulging beef balloons didn't fail to impress as all the high society folks looked equally shocked and fascinated.

Heck, vulg-ho! The women's nasty looks are so bad. Do you see their mocking looks? Nevermind, damsel! All that counts is the men's looks. Don't you see their lecherous grins spread over their faces? Focus, bimbo band! We're not here for fun. Let's study the men and women to see if they make potential contacts.

Whatever! I didn't have much time for observations! With a slap to my ass, Ortega sent me serving with the barrio barmaid following shortly after. Stumbling forward, I felt like I was literally walking into a wolves' den. I noticed every smile and downward glance and tiny change of expression. Certainly, I noticed the women starting to gossip as if assessing me and my looks. Definitely, I noticed the men licking their chops as if they were ready to eat me alive.

The fact that it was my old friends and fellow executives deriding me made it that much more demeaning. The embarrassment basically shook me to my core, so much so that I trembled epically, which resulted in my plumped plush pillows jiggling massively. Of course, the women picked up on that which made them snort that much harder. So dizzy by shame! So leaky by humiliation!

To nobody's surprise, I tried to evade the women and headed over to the first two businessmen in my proximity. Of course, I didn't recognize them. Of course, they only stared at my jumbo juggs with their eyes basically popping outta their heads and dropping into my silicone valley.

"Mmmppphhh!" I gasped just then.

Oh right! I had totally forgotten about the vibrating plug in my pussy. Oh jeez! I wasn't supposed to walk up to any guest or do any kinda stuff actively. So how did it work then? Easy-peasy! All guests had the app installed on their smartphone. Whenever they had an order, they selected a service slut and activated her vibrator, choosing the vibration level according to the urgency. With that their smartphone started flashing a red light so us bimbo barmaids knew where to go. Right now, my vibrator was buzzing on a high level, making my knees wobble, but it wasn't the two gentlemen in fronta me. Uh-oh!

"Mmmhhh!" I grunted into my mask.

Needless to say, my entire body started trembling from the intense vibrations. Needless to say, my fabulous fakebags were quaking and shaking on my chest. At this rate, I so couldn't withstand the constant sensations in my cunny for long. At this rate, I would climax in fronta all the guests before long! What degradation that would be! What embarrassment that would be!

Actually, it would be too humiliating and shameful, so much so that I wouldn't let it come to pass! For this reason, I hastily looked through the room in search for the guest whose smartphone was flashing the signal. More stumbling than walking, I got to the gentleman. Gosh! I instantly recognized the voice. No surprise 'cause it was Lambert making the first order. Oh no! He was the last person I wanted to serve. Standing in fronta him, I held my breath, hoping he wouldn't recognize me. Pretty please!

"Took you long enough." The senior consultant immediately presented his usual sleazy self. "Hope the drinks take less time!"

"We take a fake cocktail each. You know, fake like nonalcoholic, not like plastic as you thought." He ordered for him and Clark. "With that bad dye job 'n bolt-on bazookas, it looks like fake's all you can handle anyway."

Holy fudge! What a slight! He didn't even know me or identify me. Yet, he totally demeaned me from the spot. It wasn't just him, though. Standing together with Clark and the 'funbag boys', his slur made all my ex-colleagues chuckle. Oh gawd! Now, that he was a team manager, Damon and Eric were already sucking up to him. Pant!

What a start! It didn't get any better with time, though. Instead, Lambert had set the tone on how to treat the service sluts. Apparently, my bimbofications implied that I was a subslut begging to be severely degraded, mocked, and ridiculed. An implication that wasn't entirely wrong, was it? As a result, the guests' treatment in combination with the buzzing vibrator kept me as busy as drippy, to the point that I was constantly hustling back and forth with drink orders.

For sure, there were decent people among the guests. Truth be told, the majority was civilized and respectful. In fact, most VIP guests were content with ogling my bosom buddies while I took their orders. However, it was the outliers that stood out and prominently lingered in memory. Besides, the Venetian masks had an interesting effect. Just like me, it gave the guests anonymity. Just like anons on the internet, it made the guests act more disinhibited and less restraint. As a consequence, it made some people do stuff they probably woulda been reluctant to do without the masks. That was evident in the gradual increase in nasty remarks and crude comments I received with the passage of time. Do tell!

"What kind of magic is this? How did a blow-up doll come to life and get a job?" It was Clark's turn when the two senior consultants ordered a second round of cocktails.

Mostly, it was the group of ex-colleagues that were set on heaping degrading comments on me. Obviously, they had learned a lot from their boss Ortega. Apparently, they treated it as a group challenge 'cause the consultants constantly tried to one-up each other. What a cum-petition! What a cunt-est!

Anyhoo, I tried to counteract their infantile behavior by totally disregarding it. After a while of serving silently, however, I recognized another voice. It was Miller's turn to order drinks. Of course, he was a VIP guest. Remember Ortega's toast to the law firm? Duh!

Standing in a group with his lawyer friends, he wasn't content with simply calling me via vibrator. Instead, he made me stand in fronta his law pals while he tested every degree of vibration. He only switched to the next level when I showed some kinda shake or jiggle. With every higher level, I rocked and swayed harder until I basically danced on the spot when he reached the max. Oh my gosh! I had to be silent while the group of lawyers chuckled and laughed at me all mockingly.

Worse, he kept the sex toy buzzing all the way to the bar, literally keeping me on my toes and my pussy on vibrate. The worst, he randomly stopped and started the vibrations on different levels when I was on my way back to the group of lawyers. Practically, it made me twitch and jerk frantically and hop and bounce ferociously. As I was carrying a tray with cocktails, I was constantly in danger of knocking over the glasses. Dang!

Oh jeez, diva! We're basically slipping on our pussy juices here. We're leaking all over the place. Oh yay, damsel! We're giving a bitching bimbotainment here. We're totally turning the spotlight on us. Come on, bimbo band! We can benefit from this by drawing attention for our matchmaking mission. Remember?

Good point! I couldn't lose sight of the big picture. After all, I still had to accomplish Perez' task and broker contacts. Right now, however, I had to concentrate on my waitress work. Oh no! There it happened. With my body twitching, my hand trembled when handing Miller his cocktail. As a result, some of the liquid splashed out and onto his hands. Oopsie!

"Mmmppphhh!" I grunted, I mean mumbled.

Why? Cause the lawyer wasn't pleased about getting his hands wet and sticky. That was why he grabbed my monokini and pushed the suspenders to the outside. As the lacy slings had been bow-taut, they basically snapped off my monster melons, cupping my titty meat from the sides and squeezing them together. With my fabulous fakebags exposed, Miller went for it, groping and mauling my jumbo juggs straightaway.

Damnit, diva! He's wiping his hands off on our extra expensive, extrawhordinary endowments! Total disrespect! Woohoo, chica! He's doing the airbag test. Total ruthlessness! Focus, bimbo band! Make a mental note of all the dudes leering at our titterrific titties for the matchmaking later on. Total concentration!

The dark-haired lawyer really took his time squeezing my titty flesh and wiping the back of his hands over my jugganauts until all the sticky wet cocktail splashes were gone, or more like transferred to my fat, fake funbags. I guess, the way he was enjoying it, gave the fun in it a whole new meaning. Duh!

"Remember, that's all you're good for, bimbo dunce!" Miller leaned forward to whisper in my ear when he was finished.

JAW DROP! MASK DROP!

...not at all!

Cause what the lawyer said vexed me way too much, so much so that I clenched my teeth in anger. Still, he gave me the creeps, or more like, what he said gave me the creeps. Remember? It were the exact same words he had said at the after-work party. It was totally obvious that he recognized me, despite the nips and tucks and mask and all.

Holy moly! Miller left me mega intimidated and ultra flustered, to the point that I totally forgot to push the lacy suspenders back into place when I turned to walk away. It took some business lady to cough in the most affected manner ever to make me aware. Holy cannoli! The fire of shame burned scorching hot on my cheeks, so much so that I feared the heat might melt the velvet mask. Tihi!

Anyhow, the show, I mean the serving, had to go on, no matter what. The next coupla rounds, however, I had to attend to some of the decent guests who refrained from vile remarks and dirty comments. After all the previous fuss and flurry, however, it was kinda boring. As if the most important part, the one that made my cunny throb, was missing. Duh! Anyhow, some more silent waitressing later, I was called to service by two women who were about my age.

Oh wow! I found myself standing next to them. Taking my time, I checked out the help, mustering her from head to toe until she was getting visibly uncomfortable. You wanna work a stressful job, you gotta stand the heat, right? Eventually, I stuck my head together with my friends to gossip about Ortega's likely penchant to hire based on looks.

REVERIE!

What a daydream! That scene was once more a flashback to my past. In the presence, however, it was totally the other way around.

Oh woah! I found myself standing in fronta the two business ladies. Taking their time, they checked me out, mustering every curve my surgically enhanced body had to offer until I was getting visibly uncomfortable. You wanna work a tits-out job, you gotta stand the looks, right? Eventually, my fellow ladies stuck their heads together to gossip about Ortega's stinginess, only hiring bargain basement staff.

"My dear, you need to help us out here." The blonde lady finally addressed me.

"We need you to settle a difference in opinion for us." The brunette woman elaborated.

Jeezus, vulg-ho! Do you recognize the voices? We know them personally. They're fellow managers in the local building company. Remember when we attended a buncha women leadership seminars with them? Oh, good grief, damsel! Those workshops were total snoozefests. Can you say boring? Ah, bimbo band we got a problem! We can't introduce ourselves as bubbly broker to them. We need to find other building contractors.

Good point! Back in the day when we had completed the leadership program, we had been close friends, kinda like besties. Even though we had drifted apart lately, they still knew me very well. Or at least, they knew Jessica Addams the consultant very well.

"On a scale from 1 to 10, we agree to give you an 8 for effort in turning yourself into a blow-up doll." The blonde Melissa eventually told me.

JAW DROP!

Oh no! That came outta thin air. Due to my astonishment, the mask started slipping and sliding. In panic mode, I clenched my teeth, but the button was gone.