Holly’s Sales Training Ch. 03

And I oop! Only then did I realize that I had legit made a blunder. Unintentionally, I had proven to be a zoomer and exposed myself to ridicule. #WhatsMyAgeAgain

"F-Y-I!" The seasoned exec repeated, putting extra emphasis on every letter.

Holy smokes! It didn't stop at the verbal rebuff. Instead, I got three harsh pinches to my pussy, one for each letter. Oh shoot! I got my meaty mound squeezed harder than ever. So cringe! #EpicFail

"Consultant my ass!" The staunch scumbag continued. "This bitch is nothing more than a failed reality star. You know that silly top model show, old sod? Total trash parading tabloid trash whores."

Oh woah! Fake news alert! Beware, my Holligans! Everything he said was the opposite of the truth. In fact, the conniving old codger twisted the facts once again. He was rewriting the truth to contradict me. This time, though, he took it to an absurd level. This was too ridiculous, so I opened my mouth to correct him. But instead of facts, a single deep grunt came over my lips. The embarrassment was real! #TruthBomb

"Listen to this, old pal! The skanky slut really thought she could give us a viral marketing boost or whatever bullshit buzzword they call it these days. Cute, innit?" Mr. von Swine snorted deprecatingly. "At least, the bitch-in-black was willing to grind."

"Speaking of grinding... She doesn't have much competence, but she's got one skill that's worth a damn!" He elaborated. "So, I let her model the lingerie."

Oh my gawd! The old-school owner meant every word he said (about me not having more than a singular skill). To prove his point, he even gave me a savage smack on my delicious derriere that made my bubble buns jiggle. Can you believe it, guys? I was getting reduced to an object in the middle of the shop during opening hours. It hadn't taken long to transfer the power balance from the exec office to the Vonderstore, had it?

Anyway, the narrative was getting closer to the truth, but it still wasn't on point. The way the head of the Vonderfam rewrote the event was gross! I've got more skills than you can count, cringe old man! This insolence legit ticked me off, so I grabbed the arm that was still between my legs. No more! This was the end of the line! #KnockItOff

As if! Although I put both hands around the boss' forearm, my grip remained slack. So, his hand stayed where it was, giving me another savage squeeze. This time, the filthy swine pinched my clit through the flimsy wetlook material. Oh man! I was already regretting my rash action. The pinch hurt like hell! But the electric jolt that followed was intense as fuck! Consequently, my legs buckled so badly that the only thing keeping me on my feet was the grip around my plump pussy. Unbelievable, but true! #SteadyGrinding

"In the end, she paid for the lingerie in her own way, right ditzi titsi?" The pervy patriarch continued his fake fairytale.

"Where was my cock again?" He suddenly turned to me, asking me to my face.

Holy snap! I knew what he wanted to hear because his goal was clear. He was aiming to trigger me! But I didn't play along. Instead, my resistance flared up again. As a result, our eyes engaged in a duel of daggers. His deep brown irises were like deep pits, sucking in my electric blue gaze, literally like blue lightning disappearing into a black hole. Sweet jeez! #BlackHolesAndRevelations

"Actions speak louder than words, am I right?" The big boss eventually exclaimed, never breaking eye contact. "Let's reenact it then! Right here! Right now!"

Excuse me? What a blatant request! It made me grit my teeth! But nothing else changed. Neither of us was willing to give in, so we continued our proxy war. In fact, my hands were still around the boss's forearm. And yet, I didn't pull on it, clutching it in rhythm with the tremors that coursed through me instead. Truth be told, I was fiercely resolved to turn this epic fail into a glorious triumph. But not like this! I wanted to do it on my terms. #IndependentBadass

"It was in my a-hole..." I eventually muttered, albeit with a hint of indignation.

"What? It was where?" The stern old sack called me out stat. "Sorry, I'm old! Too old to hear childish chatter."

"Here come the judge, pussycat!" He prompted me. "My employees gotta speak in plain terms! Straight talk, Mrs. DeLuca, nothing else!"

"Oh shoot... Oh man..." I let out an exasperated sigh as I realized that the course of action was inevitable. "It was deep in my ass. It was in my asshole, sir!"

Oh my gosh! I'm so not a fan of saying these words out loud (or writing them down, as you know). I don't even talk dirty in the bedroom! But I was cornered here. The old man's suggestion was way too reckless! I had to concede a little, otherwise the consequences would have been out of my control. So, I gave an inch, but I wasn't willing to give more than that. Don't think for a second that I'd submit completely. Absolutely not!

At the end of the day, the equation was simple. He was the boss who could recover at the drop of a hat. I, on the other hand, was an employee who could be fired with the snap of a finger. This was basic! And super dangerous for me! But at least, I got a reward for my concession. More precisely, the grip on my pussy ceded. In its place, the filthy swine started to softly stroke my vajayjay. And I instantly embraced the new sensations. The more the pleasure grew in my loins, the more the pain of failure eased. Yasss, queen! #YouHaveBeenTrolled

"You said top model, chromedome. But those shoes don't scream model to me! They don't fit the skanky slut." Graybeard filled the brief silence.

Oh please, what was he harping on about? I looked at my black 2" wedge pumps. They were real comfy and that was the most important aspect in my line of work. Everything else was secondary. #ComfortZone

"You're right, old sod! Good catch!" Mr. von Swine was fully on-board. "Have you ever seen a top model wearing such grannie loafers."

Holy crap, what a drag! My face when I felt the burn. The shame was next level, blazing over my cheeks scorching hot. In response, I looked down at the ground. This was so out of character for me! But the embarrassment made me do it. Worse than that, however, was the fact that the boss' finger was gone from my pussy. Hard to believe, but it was immediately missed. To be perfectly honest, I legit longed to have that vice grip back on my plump pussy. I swear! #IronyOfLife

But before I knew it, the two old-timers focused on something else. Giddy like puppies, they picked out a bunch of shoes for me. Granted, being treated as a model was a nice appreciation of my athletic figure and graceful posture (even if it was just as a trashy reality show contestant). At the same time, though, it reinforced the objectification. The cringe old creeps treated me as a glorified display dummy when I should be working as a creative visionary designing new visual merchandise strategies. As you can see, I was once again torn! #CreateYourBestSelf

Strictly speaking, the Vonderstone label has never made shoes, at least not until today. Since the brand expansion, however, we carry some special footwear to go with the lingerie line. Accordingly, it's a collection of exotic crazy-heels that are legit eye-catchers. To be frank, the shoes have only one purpose: to make men's hearts beat faster. #FierceFootwear

Alright, guys! Of course, you want me to spill the tea on the shoes the boomer boys picked out for me, right? OK, fine, let me dish! First, the company owner chose a pair of high heels that were surprisingly exquisite, once again proving his fashion sense. Not only was the green color drip, but it also matched my uniform. So, the whole fit was lit!

I know, I know, more details (but don't you dare gripe about boring technical terms afterwards). So, let's keep this short and sweet: The heels were a pair of green suede sandals with a 5.5" stiletto heel, 1.5" platform, and double ankle straps. As flashy highlights, they had gold glitter embellishments on the instep and heel. So, it's easy to see that the look was straight-up fire!

And for this reason, the old pals were content with me modeling the glitter heels in the back section... believed no one ever! The opposite was true! The boomer boys chose the aisle between the men's and women's departments as my runway. And so, I had to walk from the back to the front, parading the high heels all the way across the store before returning to the lingerie area. #EveryHallwayIsARunway

Like any true fashionista, I had worn my fair share of fierce footwear, so I was no stranger to high heels. Although I had full command of my 'heel-to-toe' walk, adapting this style to a catwalk (aka strutting in a narrow line by crossing your legs) was high-key difficult. A couple of times, I almost tempted fate when I took a step too big. But my ballet training finally paid off because each time I was able to regain my balance before anything serious happened. #BalletCatwalk

Anyway, the cringe old creeps were just getting started. And so, the next two pairs were chosen by Graybeard who doesn't really have a feel for anything en vogue. Accordingly, his selections were rather bland and basic. His second choice, however, proved to be a challenge. The bowling bloke opted for a pair of black heels with zipper-look and wrap-around straps. At first glance, they looked hella boring! At second glance, however, the 6" heel caught my eye! Definitely, a height I wasn't used to, especially since the shoes had no platform. As a result, I had to walk on tip toes, so I could only take tiny steps. What a balancing act!

Still, there's no denying that the sky-high heels lengthened my legs and forced my back to arch. The slimming effect was real, creating a super attractive silhouette. I looked taller and sharper while I walked more gracefully and confident. And yet, a part of me was low-key disappointed. There were no customers in the store to see me kill it on the runway. But then again, I didn't want a bunch of randos to see me like this. After all, I had a reputation to defend! #ReputationMatters

For the last round, Mr. von Swine took the reins again. And I must admit, he was cooking! Proving his flair for drama, he chose an extraordinary piece of dark fashion. Believe me, I had to gulp when he held the shoes in front of my nose. They looked excessive! And they were legit special! After the previous heels had been disappointingly bland and basic, however, I appreciated the unique vibe. #FaceItNoBasic

Not gonna lie, the name 'crazy heels' was well deserved as they were a pair of black matte knee boots with lacing at the front. The crazy part referred to the 7.5" heel and 3.5" platform. To be honest, I had never seen boots that high in my life! The moment I put them on, however, something clicked, and everything made sense. Not only did the heels change my posture, but they also changed my behavior. Suddenly, all my moves were super sexual. No doubt about it, the term 'hooker hoofers' was dead-on. I swear, the sky-high platform boots looked like they were exclusive to strippers. #LadiesOfTheNight

And I felt the effect stat. The huge platforms forced me to literally prance like a pony (instead of walk like a model)! I did my best to take long strides and put one foot in front of the other. Imagine walking on a tightrope. It was mad difficult! As a result, my fashion walk took extra-long, giving the brash boomers the opportunity to check me out from all angles. Although I basked in the attention, I was also distracted by their intense stares. And so, I swayed and staggered more than ever. In the end, I was super happy to make it to the entrance without accident. Without my ballet training, it would have been a disaster, I swear!

And then a stunner hit me out of nowhere, literally like a cold shower. The door opened, and a customer walked in! The man almost bumped into me, catching an eyeful of my big booty. Remember the black wetlook shorts? They're so tight they squash my bubble butt and bulge out my bodacious buns, leaving the bottom half of my ass peeking out from underneath. The horror!

"Hey, Frank! I see the weekend's started. You're acting frankly already, huh?" The newcomer shouted across the salesroom. "Man, I leave you n Richard alone for 5 mins n you're already cruisin' for a bruisin'. What else is new?"

Holy smokes! The oldie-come-lately took me completely by surprise. That's why I stood paralyzed with fear at the entrance. Thank heavens, it was another one of Mr. von Stein's old pals. The realization made me relax, but it didn't make me move. Instead, I stood still until the next boomer had mustered me from head to toe. Sweet jeez! What the hell was this? An old boys' club or a bingo party for seniors? Shake my head!

As you can see, guys, there's a lot to unpack here. First, I finally learned that the company owner is called Frank, and his gray-haired buddy is Richard. Completing the trio is Carl who's a bald poc. Most of the time, they call each other by their nicknames. So, let me present to you: Frank-the-Tank, Rip, and Carlito.

Not only are these nicks so old they're hanging in there like sagging skin, but they must also be sarcastic. In reality, Frank is anything but swole and Richard looks so scrawny that his body could never get ripped. Carl is the polar opposite of short, as he's big and burly. He actually looks like he played football as an offensive lineman in the past (which must have been in a land before our time). #FantasyFest

Whatevs! Mr. Lineman didn't come to the store for shopping. Instead, the trio had an appointment with the golf course. At least, that's what I deduced from his outfit, as he was wearing a knitted sweater and khakis. See, my Holligans? I wasn't far off! Bingo or old men fetch, what's the difference, right?

Anyway, a big part of me was relieved! A casual watching me model the hooker hoofers was so much better than a rando. At the same time, though, a small part of me was overjoyed. A growing audience was better than obscurity. After all, it's not every day that you slay it on the runway, is it? My goodness! The conflict was next level! #RunwayQueen

"That the pseudo primadonna you told me 'bout, Tank?" Carlito asked, still shouting across the salesroom to make sure his old pal could hear him. "You know, the fake fashion floozy trying out as a model?"

Excuse me? The... what? Who else had the company owner told about me? Correct me if I'm wrong, but it seemed like the whole world knew about our encounter. What a realization! It shook me to the core! Truth be told, I was so devastated that I couldn't even look at Tia, who was standing in the woman's department intently watching the scene unfold. #BystanderEffect

And then all hell broke loose! Out of the blue, I felt a swat on my butt. My face when the slap hit me. My eyes snapped open, and my gaze shot up from the floor. I had expected anything but that! Even though the strike was a far cry from the patriarch's hard smacks, it still made my delicious derriere shake! After all, my glorious glutes were hanging halfway out of the wetlook shorts. This was hectic! #BlondeMoment

"That's your secret sign, innit?" Lineman said with a triumphant tone in his voice.

Oh my god! The big fella slap my ass before he even said hello. Can you believe it? How cocky can you be? Worse than that, however, was the fact that he took it all for granted. Not only did he spank me, but he also ordered me around in the most casual way ever. This was outrageous! It should have gotten me into a tizzy. #ScandalizeMe

But it didn't, because I had bigger issues to deal with. The giant geezer wasn't just overbearing, he was legit indiscreet. Why didn't he step outside and announce it to the whole mall with a microphone? Let's air all the dirty laundry and blare out all the juicy details... said no one ever! The shame burned so hot on my cheeks that I feared my skin would melt. And yet, that wasn't the only feeling. At the same time, my pussy spasmed like it was hyperventilating. The conflict was killing me! #EmbarrassmentOfRiches

But I had no time to sort out my feelings because the slap got me going. Stumbling forward, the bystander effect struck! In theory, the presence of others affects performance. When you're confident in your ability, spectators improve performance. When your unfamiliar with the task, however, your performance deteriorates. And that's what happened to me! As I had no practice with the sky-high platform boots, I staggered and swayed more than ever. Halfway down the lane, I came dangerously close to tripping over my own feet. No more slaying the runway but failing at modeling! The shame was on another level! #ChokingUnderPressure

Let me tell you, it was a rocky road back to the lingerie section. It actually felt like the longest walk ever. The hooker hoofers literally made me shaky on my pins, so I barely made it up the stairs. Passing the two boomer boys, their collective grin couldn't have been any more smug. #FawnOnWobblyLegs

"That's a nice lil primadonna prance you got going there." Mr. von Swine welcomed me back.

"What you say, Rip? Don't you think Mrs. DeLuca should keep wearing those boots for the rest of her shift?" He suggested as if he were some sorta mentor.

"Yeah! The fashion floozy needs any training she can get." The bowling bloke immediately endorsed the proposal and even adopted the new nickname. "These boots are made for working, right?"

Holy snap! I should have known better, but I didn't expect this. Absolutely not! Although I was easy prey after failing my catwalk, it was going too far! This was too unfair! And yet, I didn't say a word or throw any shade. After all, I didn't want to complain again. I already looked like a loser, so I didn't want to sound like a whiny millennial too! Believe me, I could already hear the boomer talk and that was enough to make my pussy throb. I swear! #LowHangingFruits

Whatevs! The golf gang barely waited for me to adjust my uniform before they waltzed out of the store. They looked like a jovial group of old boys ready for some weekend fun and they left behind a young fashion floozy who was hornier than ever.

What the hell? I had put on a super sexy show for them, so I deserved a reward, didn't I? In fact, I would have done anything to get my hands (or rather holes) on the boss' boner. But someone cheered too soon! I didn't even get another touch to my clit or squeeze of my coochie. Instead, the old boys let me stew in my juices, and I got to feel the full extent of it. I must admit, my arousal had never been so high. In truth, I had never felt so needy. This sucked balls! #DesperatelyNeed

The only thing that cheered me up was Tia coming over to me and telling me that she was so jealous. She would have given her right arm to be in my place, modeling those crazy heels for Matt and his fratbros. Her words, not mine. I swear! #EnvyMeChallenge

So, what's your take on it, my fashion fam? Do you think my new boots look good on me? Did I blow a major opportunity here? I'm low-key twisted! Should I have thrown myself at the old-school owner instead of playing it cool and being left with lust in my loins? Now, the chance is gone, and it may never come again. Anyway, hugs and kisses!

---How to casually slide into someone's DMs without being weird---

*SirBelty: It's obvious to everyone but you, holly honey. You're meant to be a living display dummy. Those three old guys only see you as a walking goodtime! That's all you'll ever be. Something to look at! If you're a good Holly Dummy, you might even graduate to a porno pet. Then maybe one of them will lower his standards and stick his dick in your holes (again). #YouShouldBeSoLucky*

Oh hey, Belty! Interesting thoughts you've got there. I agree with some and disagree with others. You're right about modeling, obviously! My looks are fire and tailor-made for a lingerie model! Although that's not my current career focus, it's always good to have options, don't you think? And that's where you're wrong. I do have options! So, you made a spelling error: 'maybe I will lower my standards...'. There, corrected it for you! Thank me later! Still, not happening, though...