Jessica's Change Management Ch. 27

"This could be your cum, too!" I teased the fratsters with a wink.

"I guess we'll see us at the boobs bowl. Totally looking forward to it!" I finished while turning around and showing off my epic anal wink.

And that completed the titty teaser, or more like the premier porno I had ever shot. Pant! When Justin ended the video chat, I took a deep breath, 'cause I had really made it. I had won my ex-intern as an ally and liaison. Yay!

"See?" I turned to my ex-intern all smiles. "I convinced your bros to give you another shot. Now, it's your turn."

"You know what they say, right?" I elaborated. "I scratch your back 'n you scratch mine, like literally. You want that boobs bowl to go down, you help me get into that matinée thingie first. Deal?"

Oh wow! You should have seen Justin's reaction. His jaw basically dropped when he realized that I had him over a barrel if he wanted to join the 'Yamos' fraternity. He really had seen me as nothing but a braindead bimbo barbie. No way had he expected me to have any kinda ulterior motives. No way had he expected me to claim a return for my favor. Now, he couldn't backpedal 'cause the whole pledging process was way too important for him. As I said, stupid was as stupid did, right? Getting underestimated really had its perks. Bam!

And with that, I had gained access to the matinée Ortega was planning. I had taken the first step towards succeeding in my mission and saving myself. Nonetheless, it was only the first step on a long and winding stairway to safety...

-- Sunday --

With the boobs bowl in place, it was time to focus on my beauty sleep. After all, I had to be the bestest bimbo tomorrow, right? That was why I quickly sent Justin home. Easier said than done, 'cause I barely managed to get any kinda sleep. There were way too many thoughts on my mind keeping me wired. Oh gosh! I had never been so nervous before, not even during my SATs or any other tests in my life. Gulp!

The next morning, I was up early. Damn it! On the bright side, it gave me plenty of time to get ready. Even though I had absolutely no clue what was awaiting me, I wanted to make sure to look my bimbo best, which was perfectly represented by my previous outfit. Actually, I was still pouty that none of the guests had seen it. After all, I had chosen it with such care and spent so much money on it. That was why I was adamant on giving it another try.

As a result, I got dressed in the exact same way as yesterday, 'cause I felt like I had to make a point. Once more, I put on the neon pink, spandex crop top and the vinyl Cheetah-print mini skirt. On top, I wore the Cheetah-print bolero jacket that just about covered my nippies. Of course, I also reused the black fencenet stockings and pink thong as they had been such awesome additions from my neighbor. Similarly, I wore the Cheetah print ankle boots with neon pink platforms 'cause they hadn't fulfilled their purpose yet.

At the Venetian ball, the VIP guests had seen my accessories, so I totally had to change that up. As it might be my last chance, I wanted to pull out all the stops and show off all the jewelry I had acquired over the last weeks. Otherwise, it would have been a waste of money and effort and time, right?

As a consequence, I chose a vintage gold ring set for each hand that featured a beautiful retro design. On each index finger, I put a double knuckle ring that comprised six small bars. On each middle finger, I wore a broad golden band on the distal knuckle. On each ring finger, I placed a midi criss-cross ring, and on each pinky, a chain stripe ring on the proximal knuckle. That way, the rings basically formed a downward slope. So creative! So flashy!

For the bracelets, I went with the most important bimbo rule. Which one? Bigger is better! Duh! Accordingly, I chose a gold multibangle set for each arm that was super glossy and consisted of 12 multi textured bangles. Imagine the clattering noises that were about to announce me from afar. So clanky! So sparkly! Adding the final touch, I kept the golden zipper-shaped clit piercing and the golden necklace with ruler 'cause calm anchor.

When I was all dressed up and ready to go, there was still plenty of time left. That was why I decided to make a slight detour to distract myself. As I was only planning on a flying visit, I traveled light, as in leaving my purse at home and only taking my smartphone along. On a whim, I slipped my cellie into my silicone valley, so it got stuck between my pink top and my canyon of cleavage with the upper half casing sticking out. Actually, it seemed tailor-made to be carried like that, 'cause it gave me free movement while acting like a bimbo beacon. Yay!

Off I went! But I didn't go to the shopping mall as it should have been expected. Instead, something drew me to the barrio. Maybe, it was the thrill of tempting fate if I met Sosa, 'cause it would be strike three in rule-breaking. Possibly, it was my search for Checo 'cause I felt like earning some nice, appreciative compliments. Probably, it was the hope of meeting D-Rod, 'cause I hadn't heard a word from him since the Venetian ball.

In any case, I arrived at the LGZ restaurant ready for any kinda distraction. Too bad, there was little going on at this time of the weekend. No D-Rod! What a bummer! No Checo! What a pity! That was why I headed over to the loading bay where I found Chuy, the burly parolee, who was once again busy changing the tires of a box truck. Oh dang! He was the last of the LGZ dudes I wanted to see. Nay!

Whatever! It was what it was. Choosers couldn't be beggars, like literally. Any port in the storm, right? To be honest, the Latino didn't look too happy about his current job, so we were like birds of a feather.

"Oh, poor baby! You gotta work at the weekends? So unfair!" I stepped up to the gang member with a look of commiseration.

"Ah, dem headlights hoe! Ya here to work another tryout shift, barrio bimbo?" He greeted me the traditionally coarse LGZ way.

Oh wow! The pure tone of his voice was enough to give my pussy a throb. However, I politely had to decline that nice gesture. Instead, I invited the LGZ dude to take a smoke break. God knows he had earned it, right? As he wasn't in the mood to refuse such an offer, he quickly followed along, especially as I joined him, sucking a lollipop instead of a cigarette. For sure, he couldn't tear his eyes away from my dick-sucking lips devouring the candy. For certain, I kept his attention focused on my pout trout by running the lolly all over my red flesh tubes and keeping my dinghy lips pursed all the time. Yay!

"Betcha dem puta del barrio ain't here to help me load 'em truck. Ain't wanna damage da merchandise by breakin' a nail, right?" Chuy sounded kinda annoyed about doing all the hard work. "Whateva! Nuffin' I can do 'bout it."

Oh boy! I really tried to cheer the dude up with some heartfelt sympathy. Maybe, some of my bouncy breeziness could rub off on him. Accepting my compassion, the gang member obviously felt like he could open up to me and vent his frustration. After all, you know how it goes with a bimbo airhead, right? All information goes in at one ear and out at the other, doesn't it?

"Ain't fo' long, tho!" His mood brightened slightly. "Soon, it's gonna be me takin' ya ass out to a party. Tho, it ain't gonna be sum white-ass club shit but a real barrio hoedown."

Oh wow! That sounded like somebody was bound and determined. With my interest piqued, I pushed on by getting touchy-feely. To encourage the parolee, I ran my hand up the side of his arm. It wouldn't do any harm to be on good terms with a future gang leader, right?

"I'm on my way to the top o' dem food chain like I got a rocket strapped to my back. Cha bettah believe dat, biatch!" He started bragging in between puffs. "Meetin' dat Ortega dude was the best part o' dem afterwork shit."

"Ya gotta back 'em right horse, ain't cha? I tell ya, Ortega's dem future!" He sounded smarter than expected. "Ya can bet cha ass, I got in his good graces 'cuz he ain't trustin' dem D-Rod 'n Checo motherfuckers."

Oh Lordy! From the way this rant burst outta him, it seemed like he really needed to get this off his chest. He totally acted like a frustrated employee who had lived under his boss' thumb for too long, didn't he? That was why I continued encouraging the gangbanger by running my index finger down his chest and playing with the buttons of his ugly restaurant uniform.

"Yeah, biatch! I ain't stupid! Dat's why I know all 'bout 'em expansion plans." Chuy couldn't stop boasting. "It's gonna be me settin' up dem distribution network 'n runnin' da drugs for LGZ."

"Me 'n Ortega, we got an agreement. As soon as he's got 'em corporate cunts in his pocket, I'ma gonna become da nu boss o' dis chapter." He exclaimed. "So ya bettah hitch ya ass to my bandwagon, barrio bimbo!"

Oh Lordy! Chuy sounded like a man on a mission who was gung-ho on climbing the gang ladder. He definitely knew what he wanted, which was a total turn-on. After all, every bubbly bimbo loved a strong-willed dominant dude. Maybe, I should really change allegiance 'cause D-Rod had gone kinda soft ever since his return, what with all his empathy and willingness to help. In my current situation, it was totally worth consideration, wasn't it?

In any case, it was worth exploring the details. That was why I continued prodding the burly parolee. By now, I had reached his uniform pants with my hand, so I started cupping and massaging his balls through the fabric. As I said before, a bimbo could do whatever she wanted 'cause nobody really expected any kinda decent or modest or deliberate thingie. Consequently, I could act as slutty and vulgar and obscene whenever wherever. Such awesome freedom! Such amazing liberty!

"Ya wanna be my bottom biatch?" Chuy asked bluntly. "Ya bettah! Cuz one day, I'm 'el rey' runnin' dem streets while Ortega runs da business world. Dat's da future o' LGZ."

Oh my! What a proposition! Totally in your face! Who was I to say no to such a prompt? Who was I to deny such a demanding dude? Like a best-behaved bimbo, I responded the only way that mattered. How? By dropping to my knees, pulling his erect dick from his pants, and taking care of the gang dude's most urgent business. First success? The LGZ member quickly lit another cig for a second smoke to go along with my cocksmoking.

"Fuck yeah! Dat's da shit, biatch!" He commented on my sucking skills. "Almost as crackin' as dem smug motherfucker sellin' dem corporate cunts on investin' in our franchise. Fuckin' brilliant!"

Oh wow! Such an enthusiasm! I couldn't tell if the Latin thug was more aroused by the business prospects or by my blowjob skills. In any case, he didn't really last long. Before he had finished his second cigarette, his cock was already straining. Shortly after, his balls erupted, feeding me a nice protein lunch. Tihi!

As soon as the gangbanger had dropped his load, he got close-lipped. Apparently, the blood was shooting back into his head. Duh! When he had finished his smoke, he got back to work. Obviously, he was losing interest in my company. Dang! No matter what, this had been an interesting chat. Bad thingie? Once again, it had been a private conversation, so nobody would believe a brainless bimbo bunny. Tough titty again!

Nevermind, the blowjob in the public loading bay had been a nice slut diversion. At least, it had put my mind off the darn matinée and distracted me from the uncertainty of my situation if only for a moment. Not bad for a slight detour!

I briefly toyed with the idea of heading to the shopping mall to kill some more time. However, I wasn't sure when Justin would arrive, so I decided to better be safe than sorry and returned home. Unfortunately, my nervousness returned with a vengeance as soon as I entered my house. No matter what I tried, I couldn't stop my mind from spinning around all the possible scenarios and outcomes that might lie ahead of me. With every passing minute, I became more jumpy and edgy. Dang it!

RING!

Oh wow! You wouldn't believe how my heart jumped when the bell rang. I basically bounced to the door all giddy, so much so that my boobastic boobies bounced outta my pink crop top. It didn't even spring to my mind that it could be anybody else than my ex-intern. What if it was my next-door neighbor? He would see my unleashed udders like the surgeon had created them. Darn it!

Fortunately, I wasn't disappointed 'cause it really was Justin. I had never been so happy to see the douchey slimeball in my life, so much so that I hugged him and pressed my titterrific titties right into his face. Tihi! Maybe, this spontaneous action put him in a good mood or motivated him to really fulfil his duties as liaison. In any case, he turned out to be a real man of honor. Why? Cause he told me all he knew about the matinée before we hit the road. Not a bad start!

What a déjà vu! What a Groundhog Day!

The same car! The same chauffeur! The same route! The same weather! Everything was the same when we drove to the mansion for the second day in a row. This time, though, it didn't feel weird or inadequate to enter via the side door. I had no more illusions about being the honorable hostess. I was the bimbo barmaid for good.

Before we stepped into the pantry, Justin made sure to add the final touch to my appearance. Even though I totally loathed it, there was no way around it. Even if begrudgingly, I put the dreaded moretta mask onto my face. Darn! After entering the mansion, the boobmeister headed right for the restroom, so I made my way through the house on my own. Walking from the pantry through the foyer, I noticed another consistency. The mansion was empty, and the patio door was locked. For a coupla moments, I remained standing there and looked through the window to gain an overview of the situation.

The surprising thing? Even if it was a private party, everybody kept wearing those Venetian masks, so secrecy and discretion were still top priorities. Consequently, the matinée was reserved for insiders and potential business partners from the local high society only. That was why it was a considerably smaller group of guests compared to the cocktail party as I counted not more than 20 people. Evidently, it was Ortega's next step in his scheme to compel a select few into joining the LGZ expansion 'cause he was right in the thick of it. He was already busy networking and establishing contacts, which really drove home the message that the smug exec had checkmated me.

The offensive thing? The Latino manager had stolen another of my ideas. First, the icebreaker game! Now, the coffee klatsch! The old land baron must have told him about it. What a traitor! What a hater! As a direct consequence, my original plan was dead once and for all. I so couldn't enter the matinée and hand out my number to a select few guests 'cause the smug exec would notice and instantly pull the plug on it, wouldn't he? Dang it! I had to cook up a new plan.

The good thing? The small number of guests allowed me to make out most of them despite the masks. All in all, there were only three women left who were lounging on club chairs in the pavilion. From the combination of hair color and body type, I was pretty sure that two of them were my besties Melissa and Christina. Uh-oh! By contrast, most of the men were sitting in a small bell tent playing card games, among them the two senior consultants and the 'funbag boys'. They were easy to identify 'cause silver-haired geezers, trademark missing socks, and silly smartwatch. Duh!

The bad thing? The guests were getting served by the Latina service slut, which I recognized from the multitude of tattoos. Oh jeez! Ortega had another bimbo barmaid serve the special guests! What an affront! What a disrespect! But wait! This could be my way in. This could be my leverage to convince Ortega. Once again, it was a total gamble! The odds were clearly stacked against me. Yet, I was betting on the smug Latino's arrogance 'cause it was the last chess move I had up my sleeve.

The strange thing? On second look, I noticed a buncha carnival stalls set up around the pavilion in a sprawling circle. That was the detail Justin had told me about. In hindsight, it seemed kinda obvious. When you were throwing a Venetian masquerade ball, the carnival wasn't that far off, was it? In any case, the booths looked like fancy versions of your traditional carnival games as they totally fit the vintage art nouveau style from the cocktail party and could have been lifted straight from a burlesque theater. As I said before, Ortega hadn't spared any expenses! Among the different games, I spotted a water tank thingie and a wheel of fortune. There was also a tin-can-alley and a stall that resembled the whack-a-mole game. For the moment, though, all those carnival stalls were unmanned.

While I was still busy taking in the scene, Justin stepped up to me. I barely had time to tell him about my pitch before he knocked on the glass to attract somebody's attention. Way too overhasty! Way too shortsighted! To nobody's surprise, Ortega quickly noticed our arrival and headed over to the patio. Dang it! Opening the door, he blocked our way. Damn it!

Oh my god! Oh my gosh!! Oh my gawd!!

He would kick me out! He would nip my last-ditch effort in the bud! He would end all my hopes! He would ruin all my plans!

... he wouldn't!

Astonishingly, Ortega didn't appear as incensed as I had expected. Instead, he was in a surprisingly good mood. So weird!

"Sorry sir! But I found Miss Bimbo outside your gate. She camped there and made a fuss." Justin swiftly explained my presence. "I didn't want her to disturb your neighbors."

"You know the bimbo ditz! She's too stupid for her own good, ain't she?" He stressed following my strategy. "She doesn't know when to quit but insists on a chance to prove her worth."

"You wanna hear what she said?" He asked kinda rhetorically.

"You know, among your service sluts, she's, like totally, the bestest hooters hoe, like for real!" He mimicked my high-pitched bimbo voice.

Oh gulp! The slimeball was really selling it! More so, he was totally serving up the humiliation super thick! Mostly, he was really convincing!

"Indeed, that does sound like Miss Bimbo." Ortega agreed. "It would be hard to sound equally as dumb for anybody else, I suppose."

"So true!" My ex-intern agreed with a snort. "What's more, she insists that you never gave her a fair chance to prove that she's a better bimbo barmaid than the Latina lady. That's why she wants to issue a challenge to any 'n all service sluts!"

That was it! That was my pitch! That was my angle!

Vital to the success was Ortega's arrogance 'cause it all hinged on his egomania. The smug exec wouldn't be able to resist the opportunity to degrade his loathed rival a final time, would he? The pompous ass wouldn't be able to resist the chance to make me cum-pete in a silly game one last time, would he? In his hubris, he would only see me as a brainless bimbo barbie, wouldn't he? Truth be told, I was staking everything on it.

"I have to say, the dolly ditz provided quite the entertainment for the VIPs." My rival admitted. "Of course, it is bottom-scraping amusement for the lowbrows and uncultured, but it's worth a chuckle now and then."

Oh sheesh! Seriously? I had planned on playing the dumb ditzy doll so Ortega wouldn't take me serious in any way. Still, his words sent a cold shower down my spine. He was really emphasizing how much he saw me as a low-class tramp in comparison to his high-class guests. What a pompous ass! In fact, it made me fume into the darned mask.

"Bread and circuses! That is what Miss Bimbo is good for, indeed. Even so, a bit more distraction might be a good diversion, I suppose." The smug exec reasoned. "After all, I have important talks to hold in the meantime."