Jessica's Change Management Ch. 28

--- Sunday ---

Beyond all imagination and all measure! Beyond good and evil! Such a consensus!

Turmoil and tumult! Turbulence and trouble! Such a consistency!

Over and out! All done and bygone! Such a distinctiveness!

What had happened? I had won the carnival cum-petition to secure my stay at the matinée. In doing so, I had sustained my chance to put a new plan into motion and consolidate my future. That was all well and good, but it didn't really matter. More importantly, I had lost my moretta mask, which had resulted in my identity getting exposed to the high society elite.

HORROR OF HORRORS!

This was the biggest reveal ever! This was the final nail in the coffin! This was the end of my business career! This was a fatal turning point!

As of now, I had nothing left but my looks. The only certificate that mattered were my extra expensive, extrawhordinary endowments. My future achievements were getting measured in cumloads only. My future services were performed with my fuckholes only. Totally definite! Totally final!

"Oh well, you remember Miss Addams, don't you?" Ortega seemed kinda indifferent when he noticed his guests' astonishment.

"To whom it may concern, she has chosen to leave the hard grind of daily work behind to pursue her dreams, indeed." He explained in his overbearing smugness.

My dreams? Seriously? In all seriousness, my archrival sounded swankier than ever. He instantly used the chance to cast a slur at me, suggesting that I wasn't cut out for long working hours. No way! At the same time, he put himself into a positive light to look like the perfect mover and shaker. As if!

Whatever! I had other problems to deal with 'cause the ultimate revelation caused my emotional pendulum to lash about wildly. As a result, my mood changed at the drop of a hat, constantly swinging back and forth from gushy glee to scandalized stir.

"Indeed, some people might find it an odd choice, but Miss Bolt-on has always dreamed of being the planet's prime pornstar." The Latino manager elaborated in his typical hyperbole. "A valid decision, I have to admit, considering her limited skills as a consultant."

Prime pornstar? Really seriously? In earnest, it might have crossed my mind after the adult convention, so there was an element of truth to it, which made me flash a beaming smile. Still, the insinuation was totally outrageous, which made me clasp my arms underneath my jumbo juggs in a posture of indignation. What a contradiction! What a discrepancy!

"Indeed, we should applaud Miss Bolt-on for being so bold and brave." Ortega continued completely unpertubed. "After all, she spent plenty of work and money on self-improvement, I have to give her that."

"For, who remembers her previous plain Jane looks?" He took another dig at me. "Aren't we always droning on about lifelong learning? Here we have Jessie Foole leading by example, I have to admit."

Plain Jane looks? Totally seriously? In all honesty, his vile remark was beyond insolent. All the same, it was worded like a compliment, as if he were praising my upgrades. Unwittingly, the faux praise made me clap my hands all cheerfully. Nonetheless, I also rolled my eyes super scandalized. What a contrast! What a dichotomy!

Despite the Latino's joviality, however, the guests, or more like my ex-colleagues and former business fellows, had fallen silent. Apparently, they were just as shocked and perplex as me. Evidently, they were speechless with amazement.

BANG!

Ortega had noticed his guests' distraction, too. That was why he lifted the toy gun into the air and pulled the trigger. The loud noise was enough to grab everybody's attention and direct all focus back to the smug exec.

"Now ladies and gentlemen, if I may remind you, this is a carnival." The host got back to his master of ceremonies schtick. "This was quite the amusing aperitif, I have to say. But it is time for us to enjoy the games ourselves."

With a pompous gesture, Ortega tried to dispel the pervasive state of shock and get his guests back into a party mood. That turned out harder than the smug bastard might have expect, however. In the end, the high society members seemed more flabbergasted than expected.

"As you know, we are no barbarians around here. We shall thus give Miss Matador a proper send-off, indeed." My archrival tried to seize everybody's attention. "If you feel like our pretty pinup deserves special consideration for her valiant effort, feel free to give a generous tip, of course."

Oh jeez! Ortega was such a narcissist! He couldn't share the spotlight, not even for a second. What was more, he was really trying to come across as an honorable host, simulating sympathy to connect with those potential LGZ contacts. As if anybody would ever buy that bullshit! Anyhow, as the social elite was all by themselves, they didn't have to pretend to be generous in any way. That was why they basically sent the Latina chick packing without any tips or appreciation. So unfair! So arrogant!

"Certainly, we are no deviants here." The Latino boss picked up where he had left off. "We thus have several non-erotic games, such as the tin-can alley. You will also find select card games for the distinguished gamblers in the bell tent, I'm proud to announce."

Oh sheesh! I barely listened to the pompous ass, 'cause my emotions were totally outta control, continuously swaying back and forth from one extreme to the other. All the same, I realized that this was a chance for me. In fact, the last exposure had only reinforced the effect of the first revelation. Like a hot iron, it had burned my priorities into my mind. No more bimbecile deflection! No more beautifool diversions!

No matter how exciting the next super slut show might be, I had to stay alert and find a way to use the carnival games to my advantage. No matter how outrageous my rival's next conceited actions might be, I had to be attentive and find a way to implement a new plan. After all, there was only one thing that was important here! I had to derail the budding business venture between Ortega and Perez. No more theatrical antics! No more temper tantrums!

"Don't you worry, ladies and gentlemen, our victorious court jester is going to help us check out the main carnival games, I'm glad to tell you." The smug exec continued reveling in his hypocrisy.

"Since we only have one of our lovely pinups left, you have to be so kind and choose her first booth, I'm afraid." My archrival continued in total disregard of me and my opinion.

Oh gosh! As the vict-whore, I should have a say in the next game, shouldn't I? Not according to Ortega. So unfair! So presumptuous! Once more, my archrival was a step ahead of me. Once more, he had checkmated me before I had been able to concentrate my efforts. Once more, he had managed to rope me in for the next game before I had been able to socialize. Dang it!

Just then I noticed that one half of the social elite had already left to occupy themselves with the card games in the bell tent. What a scandal! What a disrespect! Despite my identity verification, the high society members weren't that intrigued by me and my transformation. Despite my prime performance, the distinguished guests weren't that mesmerized by me and my bimbofication. Holy fudge! Only half of the posh patrons remained glued to their seats. Worse than that, it was the half that consisted of Ortega's inner circle for the most part. Damn it!

"The 'Fun Stage' or the 'Wheel of Fortune', which one shall it be?" The Latino boss asked into the round. "For a prime pornstar, the stage might be the better fit, indeed. For a dummy doll, however, it might be the better choice to let a wheel make the decisions, in fact. Oh my, that sounds like a difficult decision, I have to say!"

Holy shoot! More nasty taunts, more emotional stings! It totally added fuel to the whirlwind of feelings beleaguering me. After the recent developments, however, my emotional pendulum wasn't swinging back and forth between the extremes anymore. Instead, it was spinning all around me. That was why I remained calm in the eye of the hurricane with bimbo bliss covering me like a warm blanket. All the same, bouncy breeziness and overblown outrage swirled around me simultaneously.

As of shortly, Ortega's nasty comments would have totally unhinged me and made me do something extreme. As of now, however, my gushy glee made me cheer while the scandalized stir made me fume. Thereby, the hybrid expressions co-occurred, counterbalancing each other. As a result, each emotion kept the other from getting outta hand, to the point that the bimbo balance filled my body with pleasure and kept my mind lucid. What a combination! What an equilibrium!

This was the true B.I.M.B.O. The Bouncy Insatiable Monster-titted Barbie Obsessed. It all made sense now. It presumed being a vivid sparkplug with a voracious appetite for attention and sex. It entailed mega tits and barbie looks like a cosmetically enhanced and gussied-up glamour doll. It required being obsessed with all things sex and fashion. However, it didn't mean being dumb or ignorant. I didn't have to be stupid to dress provocatively and enjoy being treated like an object of desire. I didn't have to be stupid to be submissive and crave degradation in a sexual context.

OK! Fine! That realization was nice and all, but I still had to come up with a plan and put it into action. Truth be told, I hadn't made any headway in derailing my rival's illegal activities. As a result, the threat of getting traded to the strip club increased with every passing minute. Considering my mission, the opportunity to select the carnival stall could have been really helpful. After all, it would have been a chance to choose the game that offered the best possibilities. What a missed chance! What a lost opportunity!

Nevertheless, I decided to be on the safe side, so I inspected the carnival stalls more closely. The 'Wheel of Fortune' looked like a passive affair. I mean, as a serving slut, I was probably supposed to stand there, let the guests spin the wheel, and do whatever the number said, which was definitely some kinda sex act, right? On the one hand, it was an intimate one-on-one situation where I could interact with the guest while being shielded from view. On the other hand, having sex with my ex-colleagues was the last thing on my bucket list!

By contrast, the 'Fun Stage' looked more like an active affair. I mean, as a bimbo barmaid, I was probably supposed to stand on the stage to strip and dance for the guests' entertainment, right? On the one hand, the stage offered a lot more room to maneuver. On the other hand, it was totally exposed and open to view.

"Let's see! Let's see! That's a tough call." Lambert showed the most enthusiasm.

"That water tank looks tailor-made with all that love for details." The senior consultant argued with himself. "Miss Bolt-on, however, looks like a mass-produced barbie doll with all those cheap, basic add-ons."

Oh my gawd! That hurt! That was ultra degrading! Mostly, though it was totally not true! Previously, such an unfair allegation would have sent me into a spiral of outrage. It would have totally ended in a hissy fit with over-the-top antics. With every crisis, however, my bimbo balance grew stronger. That was why I smiled cheerfully while I held my arms akimbo in rejection.

"C'mon! Miss Bolt-on looks like a generic stripper! Gotta give her that!" Damon defended my honor, sorta. "And everybody knows strippers belong on the stage!"

Oh my gosh! That was better! That was still über-degrading! The mixed feedback only fanned my contrasting emotions. Shaking my shoulders, I made my boobastic boobies bounce in gleeful anticipation while I pressed my lips together in anger.

"So, if I may conclude, it's the 'Fun Stage' then?" Ortega determined as master of ceremonies.

Asking his distinguished guests to vote by clapping, my archrival got back to hogging the spotlight and reveling in his hypocrisy. His way of moderating the conversation made me realize that he was doing it on purpose. Oh wow! The cunning bastard was trying to split up the group of potential business partners. On one side, he used his inner circle to keep the less influential guests occupied with the bimbo barmaid. On the other side, he guided the local power players to the tent to make his business pitch without interruption.

Oh my god! I was just a walking distraction. My fat, fake funbags were just a pair of fleshy spotlights. I was just a plastic pawn in his hands. What a devaluation! What a demotion! It totally ruffled my feathers. Still, it didn't make me throw a temper tantrum. Instead, I did the bimbo lip-grip while stomping my foot in protest. What a contradiction! What a discrepancy!

Side effect? My silly display totally lulled the smug exec into a sense of security. Remember the cliché? If it looks like an airhead and talks like an airhead, it had to be an airhead, right? No matter what, the die was cast, what with the 'Fun Stage' getting voted the winner. As a consequence, Ortega led me over to the water tank. Getting a closer look at it, the construction looked really fancy. There was a small round stage on a red wooden platform. The stage was framed by a broad wooden framework with gleaming light bulbs that emitted a warm red light. Oh, and there were several round metal discs placed around the frame. I saw one below and above the stage as well as two on each side.

When I got onto the stage, I noticed a neon sign with the words 'All the World's a Stage' in cursive script in the front of the platform. Holy moly! The details! Turning around, however, I was in for a surprise. To my disbelief, the petty party of inner circle members and minor players had started mingling. The local businessmen had started a non-erotic carnival game at the tin-can alley. At the same time, my former co-workers treated themselves to a new round of drinks. Holy cannoli! The disrespect!

Oh my gosh! I had expected anything but that. After all, my revelation was the biggest scandal this town had ever seen. Despite the chance for gossip, it wasn't enough to draw a large crowd. Gasp! Despite my local fame, I was just a sideshow slut. Gulp!

For a moment, I stood there on the stage kinda lost, literally like dressed-up and forgotten. I felt like I had gotten tossed on to the scrap heap. In my clown' costume, I felt like I was just a random carnival attraction. By the way, you remember my outfit? The costume comprised a sequined corset with a black and white checkered front panel, pink sides, and pink frills as neckline. The corset got complimented by a tiered miniskirt that sported the same checkered design and pink frills as hemline. Completing the outfit was a pair of pink and black wetlook stockings and a pair of pink lace-up ankle boots with 2.5 inches platform and 6.0 inches heels. Anyhow, the lack of attention was so much worse than all the disdain and degradation. Truth be told, I would have literally licked my lips for some humiliating comments and verbal abuse then and there. Pant!

No matter what, the idle time gave me a chance to check out my surroundings in more detail. As I had observed before, the various carnival stalls were arranged in a semicircle around the pavilion. Due to this, there was no way to stay under the radar when approaching the guests. So, there was no chance to make contact without Ortega noticing it, either. However, an interesting detail struck my eye. There was a small tent adjacent to the 'Wheel of Fortune'. Maybe, I could utilize it for my plan...

... which I couldn't!

In the end, I didn't even get the chance to finish my thought, 'cause I got distracted by the first guest stepping outta the bell tent and approaching the other stalls. Finally! Not too soon, somebody was about to pay me the respect I deserved! Oh yay! Sooner rather than later, my eyes went wide 'cause the dude walked over to the tin-can alley and joined the group of minor players. Oh nay!

My sulking was bigger than ever! My pout was bigger than ever! My disappointment was bigger than ever!

Even if I had bigger fish to fry, as in crucial stuff to plan, I was still driven by the need to prove that I was the bestest bimbo bunny ever. That urge was super strong, so much so that it outweighed my sense of purpose and mission objective. That urge almost made me jump off the platform and storm into that stupid tent to grab some stuck-up dude and pull him over to the 'Fun Stage'. Dang it!

I got close, really close, to doing it! In the end, however, the thought of failing my mission stopped me. After all, I didn't want to anger Ortega more than usual 'cause he was the only person I didn't want to watch out for me. See? Calm and lucid! For this reason, I remained on the 'Fun Stage'. As reward, I had to watch the minor players lark around at the tin-can alley and have a ball without me or my bimbotainment. Damn it!

Eventually, two guests walked away from the carnival game. Immediately, I recognized them as my two business fellows Melissa and Christina. Holy shoot! It was the girls. So boring! Holy fudge! They headed straight up to my stage. So outta place!

In any case, the two women stopped right in fronta the platform. The two business ladies clad in elegant dresses extensively mustered the service slut in clown's costume. Such polar opposites! My former friends' looked me over in the most condescending way ever, which was totally intimidating although it was the only attention I received. Such a conflict!

"Do you remember our last leadership seminar?" Melissa suddenly asked her pal, totally ignoring my presence. "There was this annoying woman who got all upset when somebody ran late, wasn't it?"

"Oh yes, I remember! She was always harping on 'n on 'bout the same theme." Christina played along. "What did she say again? Oh right! If we wanna look professional 'n be taken serious as leaders, we shouldn't wear make-up at all."

"Absolutely!" The blonde entrepreneuse replied. "Who was it again? Oh yeah! It was Jessica Addams!"

"Miss Bolt-on, you mean." Her brunette friend corrected her. "Now, that stage slut over here, she looks like she's keeping entire cosmetic stores alive."

Seriously?!? A shopaholic? No way!

"Oh my! Look at that forehead! It's seen its fair share of botox, hasn't it?" The blonde bitch had to raise the bar. "Didn't work! I see plenty of crinkles there. Are these crow's feet? I guess she forgot those."

Really seriously?!? Crow's feet? As if! These women were the biggest meanies ever! Way worse than any man could ever be. Holy fudge!

"Oh well! What you expect of a bimbo blondie?" Her brunette bestie splashed out on the dirty talk. "Now, botox barbie, that sounds like a good name for the stage slut, don't you think?"

Super seriously?!? Botox barbie? Anything but! The two business ladies had a ball highlighting my hypocrisy. They had lotsa more fun pointing out any and all blemishes and flaws, finding every tiny wrinkle. They even noticed the teensy white blotch on my leg that my beautician had missed during my last spray tan session. Holy shoot!

"So... what about this?" Melissa eventually suggested. "We press this button 'n botox barbie can finally start living her dream. We're always happy to help people get ahead in their careers, right?"

"Oh yes!" Christina agreed. "But wait! We can only help her with enough background info, can't we? So we need to ask a bunch of questions."

"What about this, botox barbie?" The brunette bitch finally addressed me. "Whenever you agree, you strip off a piece of clothing 'n get a step closer to your dream. Sounds like a deal?"

Oh Lordy! That new, ultra demeaning nickname gave me a jerk, so much so that I almost started dancing on the spot. The scorn was super thick, so much so that I could literally feel the derision prickling on my skin. However, they had a point. I was extra eager to get going and prove my bimbo skills. Anything was better than another period of waiting. Any spectators were better than being left out in the cold. So, in a way, it basically sounded like a win-win for everyone, right?