Jessica's Change Management Ch. 20

"Of course, earning a penalty point also means earning a punishment." Ortega stated matter-of-factly.

Stunner!... not.

Even though it wasn't much of a surprise, it didn't sound awesome. It wasn't awesome either, so much so that it functioned like an alarm call, wakening me up and dissipating my bimbo haze again. What it was? The smug exec had pulled a pair of scissors from his briefcase and cut a slit on each side of my sky-blue stewardess uniform. The cut went all the way up the skirt right up to my thighs, so much so that I had to move carefully to avoid showing off my full legs. Oh my gawd!

No matter what, the slutty makeover caused another whistle from Wilson. By contrast, it caused a barrage of whimpers from me! After all, I had just bought the outfit, and now it was getting shredded to pieces already. The bimbo reaction would have been to start crying about my dress getting ruined while smiling proudly about the male attention I was gaining by the makeover. My professional reaction, by contrast, was fearing the flesh-flashing. My actual reaction? I felt my heart beating in worry about the exposure while I shed a tear about the damage to my dress. What a crippling conflict!

Nonetheless, the fact remained that Shelly had earned a nice golden ring and I had earned a ruined dress. No matter my conflicting feelings, that result remained unfair! On top of that, it made me burn with shame from defeat and embarrassment from failure. What an emotional rollercoaster!

The humiliation didn't get any better when Ortega sent us bimbos away after handing his presentation case over to me. Even though we wore our coats on our way to the reception desk, we lit... we stood out like sore thumps when we had to pass all those fine gentlemen in their expensive suits smoking their high-priced cigars. Waiting in the lobby until our cab arrived, our flashy accessories and gaudy style were dead giveaways.

My emotional conflict only increased during the wait until it was overwhelming me. On the one hand, I was attracting a lot of attention. On the other hand, I was losing any kind of respect. For once, I was distinguishing myself. Yet, it was the worst moment for it 'cause I was too woke to enjoy it.

As soon as the cab arrived, the concierge ushered us out. Apparently, he shared everybody's opinion that we didn't belong in that fancy high-class place. The way, he treated us like second-rate guests made me feel so ashamed. Then again, it also made my pussy throb so hard.

The ambiguity was too unsettling, so much so that I had to straighten things out. I felt the need to find a way to prove my competence and show-off my skills. So what did I do? I dropped the coat as soon as I stood on the hotel driveway. Cheekily looking back over my shoulder, I noticed the concierge's eyes bulging and several old boys choking on their cigars when they saw my curvy booty in the tight uniform.

Oh fudge! I had striven to act professional and prove my abilities. And what had happened? I had demonstrated my bimbo skills instead of my consulting skills. I had done the exact opposite of what I had intended to do. Damn it!

My little show had another unintended effect. The cab driver got an awesome look at my long, tanned legs when I walked up to the cab 'cause fresh side cuts. Of course, I totally forgot the slits Ortega had cut into my uniform. Of course, the skirt opened up to the fullest when I took the first step.

"Oye, what are you in town for?" The cabbie asked as soon as we sat in the back of his taxi. "You escorts or pornstars?"

Oh jeez! That Indian driver had looked at us for about a split second, and instantly taken us for a pair of cheap hookers. What a bias! By the way, what about that sudden porn obsession? Did I really look and sound and act that porny? As if!

"No funny business in my cab! Clear?" The cabbie emphasized his point.

That reminder so wasn't necessary. After the debacle of trying to prove my skills, I was more clear-headed than ever. I also felt less in a teasing mode than ever. That was why I didn't even reply and simply gave the cab driver the address.

There wasn't any surprise happening during the drive. However, everything that happened after our arrival at the hotel was more than a surprise. Especially when we noticed our surroundings for the first time. We were standing in front of the local convention center. A huge banner hung above the entrance informing us about the current event: The Sexpo Adult Convention!

Oh wow! The cabbie had really taken us for pornstars and driven us to the adult exhibition! What an idiot! But wait! This was the correct address. The sexpo and the closing conference took place in the same hotel. What a coincidence... not!

On my way into the convention center, I had to pass a bunch of sexpo visitors who were standing around on the front yard. Whatever they were doing, they stopped it to focus on me. Lifting their cameras, they started taking photos of me, or more like of my awesome curves.

Oh shoot! They took me for a special guest. Here I was, walking a red carpet in a flurry of camera flashlights, attracting everybody's attention, and getting treated like a star. Yet, here I was, feeling the need to show my professionalism and prove my consulting skills. So ill-timed! So contradictory!

Oh, you want to know everything about the convention center to get the right picture, don't you? Okay! It wasn't one of those hyper modern, glazed highrises but a typical 80s style building. There were concrete walls and garish pattern floors everywhere. There was also gray plastic and muted mint green color popping up incessantly.

The building was basically divided into two parts with a large reception hall in the middle. On the right part, the hotel was located, which looked more like a cheap motel. The rooms were small and functional, opening to the parking lot to allow easy access to vehicles. The left part was taken up by the convention center with a large trade show floor on the ground level and conference rooms on the upper floors.

The show floor was where the adult convention was going on. Hot pink and neon colors all over the place! Can you say tacky and tawdry? On the first floor, the business men repping the adult companies used the conference rooms for meets and greets. And then there was the second floor. That was where the company's reward workshop was about to take place. Can you say gray and drab?

Anyhow, we didn't head over to the conference rooms straight away. Instead, we ran into Mr. Anderson at the reception. That was Wilson's bald, middle-aged buddy from the committee. Apparently, he was already waiting for us ass-istants, 'cause he instantly greeted us.

As I had lost my coat, he got treated to the sight of my tight uniform straight away. Of course, he was mostly interested in my cleavage. Actually, too much for my taste 'cause he looked more at my boobs than my face, which was extra annoying. Damn! Obviously, though, it was too much attention for Shelly's taste 'cause she finally followed suit and dropped her coat, too. Now, it was getting difficult for Anderson to decide where to peer harder -- the stewardess outfit or the schoolgirl uniform. The sexist!

"I see, Ortega managed to convey the spirit of our reward workshops." The bald dude told us with maximum audacity.

All right! No shit! Truth be told, that spirit was becoming clearer by the second. I mean, they had booked the annual closing conference at a location that was hosting an adult exhibition at the same time. They were calling the meetings reward workshops. How many hints did a person need? How much more on the nose could it get? No way, this would be a typical corporate training. Duh!

"You know, this is a tough business. It's hard to find the right incentives to motivate salesmen." Anderson explained. "That's why creative rewards are an essential strategy. I certainly hope you're ready to provide those creative ideas."

Oh, damn! That reminded me of the workshop exercise that I had to plan. I still wasn't anywhere near a creative idea. Gulp! Anyhow, there was still time before the workshop was about to begin. Too bad, Anderson had already arranged a schedule for us ass-istants.

First, he took us to our rooms, or more like he took Shelly there. As I was still carrying Ortega's presentation case, he made me wait at the reception before leading me to the conference room. To my surprise, the projector was already running, projecting a presentation onto the wall although the workshop wasn't about to begin in some time.

No matter what, I was mostly glad to get rid of that presentation case. After putting it down in a corner, I turned around, and instantly bumped into Anderson's chest. He was standing right behind me, uncomfortably close to be honest. He didn't plan on stepping aside, either.

Totally the opposite! He swiftly grabbed the golden hem of my sky-blue stewardess costume and pulled on it. So abruptly and so strongly, that the material didn't offer much resistance sliding down and exposing my tear-shaped fleshorbs. However, carrying the presentation case and standing in the workshop surroundings had only increased my professional attitude. As a result, I shrieked and crossed my arms to cover my funbags. Fortunately, the bald dude had closed the door, so nobody could see us. Phew!

Unmoved, the company man grabbed my wrists and swiped my arms out of the way. He acted as if it was the most normal thing to expose a business assistant's knockers in a meeting. He made it seem as if it was part of the formal welcome address. The misogynist!

"Oh honey, you graduated from undies to birthday suit. That might be called daring." He commented all noble-minded. "You sure about that decision?"

My mouth gaped open in outrage, which was kinda ridiculous given the path I had walked ever since that damned project pitch. Of course, I didn't wear a bra or thong 'cause bimbo. Duh! Anyhow, that notion totally contrasted with my current professional attitude.

Despite his noble demeanor, the company dude didn't really care about my feelings. Now, that my big natural breasts were fully exposed, he simply reached out with both hands and grabbed my soft tit flesh. Once again, he made it seem like the normalest thing to do for a company man to personally test an external consultant's assets.

All the same, he grasped my tit meat way too firmly for my taste, so much so that I winced equally from pain and surprise. Ouch! Truth be told, it wouldn't have taken much for Mr. Baldie to shout out 'Honka! Honka!' 'cause he was squeezing my honkers as tightly and energetically as a horn. Although, he probably would have said something more Oxford dictionary-ish.

"I've been waiting for this ever since you gave that project pitch, honey." Anderson stated.

"But look at yourself! Is nobody teaching a sense of elegance anymore? Your face just screams 'poke me'!" He said with a senior's concern for a juvenile while squeezing my tits even harder.

"My goodness! Nails all plastic, tan all fake, chains all tacky. Is that the youth fashion?" He listed my bimbo assets, giving my funbags a major squeeze for each and every one. "Has nobody told you that the tarty ponytail, trampy facelift, 'n balloon lips make you look like a harlot. Oh well, the sins of the youth."

Holy fudge! By now, my tits were bright red and stinging 'cause his grip was like a vise driving me to my knees. As a result, his fingers were painfully visible on my juicy juggs. More than that, however, I felt his way of mansplaining painfully affecting me. The way, he talked down to me like a seasoned veteran was totally misplaced, especially since he was barely ten years older than me. Misplaced or not, it still rekindled my bimbo flame. So preposterous! So grotesque!

I had gotten used to Ortega's swagger by now. Anderson's brand of arrogance was different, though. While the Latino acted all phony, the bald dude naturally behaved like some noble man. While my boss behaved hammy, the company man explained the world to stupid-little-me in a condescending and overconfident manner while claiming my body for his pleasure just like that.

"You remember that presentation, honey?" Anderson suddenly pointed to the slides projected onto the wall. "Why don't you give that project pitch another try? See if you can improve upon last time."

Holy shit! I had been too distracted by his rude tit squeezing to notice that it was my presentation.

"Ouch!" Another painful double squeeze prompted me to get going.

"All during that pitch, I felt like either putting you over my knee or bending you over to poke you to the ground." Anderson explained his impatience. "You certainly needed a lesson then 'n you certainly do now. Time to turn that vision into reality!"

Oh jeez! He wanted me to give the presentation like a serious consultant while he fucked me like a dumb bimbo. That was the last thing I wanted to do, what with me feeling maximum aversion and reluctance. Still, I couldn't deny that I also felt maximum excitement and arousal. Gulp!

"Ow! Ouch! Ow" I yelped anew when the company dude continued painfully squeezing my tit meat.

"Welcome, gentlemen!" I finally started my speech, although I couldn't muster any kinda fake enthusiasm.

"I'm glad I can be here today to shooouuuch... to show you the results of ouch... of our project 'n give youuuuhhh... give you a preview of the next steps that vooouuuch... that vouch for sustained success."

I tried my bestest to give a decent pitch but Anderson continued fiercely mauling my soft tits, so much so that it sent electric stings through my body that were equally arousing and excruciating. Mostly, though, they made me yelp and interrupted my talk. Glaring at Mr. Baldie, he lifted his hands off my boobs in an apologetical way as if he had been trying to help me.

OMG! This was so absurd and so farcical! Here I stood as a bimbo ass-istant with my big, ole funbags exposed trying to give a better presentation than last time when I had been a serious consultant in a respectable business dress. This was destined to fail! This was destined to put my mind in a bimbo haze!

"Congratulations, gentlemen! We successfully managed your cumpany's dick-addicted transwhoremation." I continued nonetheless.

Phew! This time, Anderson had stopped squeezing my boobs, so my speaking turn had gone uninterrupted. However, he hadn't stopped his distractions. Instead, he had pushed up the hem of my sky-blue skirt to fully reveal my ass and pussy. Without warning, he had shoved a finger straight up my cunt in mid-sentence.

"It seems to me that the transformation to a dick-addicted, cum-drunk whore was rather successful on your part, honey, if that was your goal." Mr. Baldie commented on my words.

Oh damn! It had happened again! With Anderson's distractions and my focus on avoiding my bimbo talk, I constantly tripped over my tongue and made sexual innuendoes. Damned Bimbo-me! The dude's finger up my snatch only made matters worse 'cause I inadvertently spread my legs and started humping the fleshy invader. Oh gosh! The bimbo haze was thickening even though I tried really hard to keep a clear head.

"For the digital transformation, we implanted whore strategiiieees... I mean four strategies!" I picked up my talk.

Right in the thick of my sentence, Mr. Baldie slipped two more fingers up my cunt, making me groan loudly. By now, my pussy was all juicy and wet, so it welcomed the stuffing. It coaxed a groan out of me and threw me off track, so much so that I boobed and instantly pulled another boner, like literally. Duh!

"We made a market anal-ysis, 'n oooh boy, performed value-generating twerk-shops to generate wins. Oooh wow! Us cunt-sultants identified key cum-petencies, 'n oooh man, built ho-alitions to sustain ass-eleration, like totes, fer shure." I listed our success factors.

While I started increasingly babbling like a total bimbo, Anderson kept busy driving his fingers in and out of my twat. Every time he pushed in deep, it made me groan in mid-sentence. He really wasn't going slowly, but super fast and furious. Not only that, he also crooked his middle finger, so it constantly pushed against my most precious spot. From the breakneck speed, slurpy sloppy noises erupted from my pussy.

"All those things, oooh baby, cunt-stitutet sex-cess in the long term. Ooohhh wow!" I finished my talk.

Even though I was blatantly groaning and moaning, I was mentally still on top of things. No way, I could tell for how much longer, though, 'cause physically, my arousal was starting to overpower me. I was clear-headed while edging and boobing, so much so that I couldn't enjoy the pleasure. The irony! The contrast!

Despite his grandeur, Anderson didn't seem to care 'cause he had way too much fun perverting my project pitch. That was why he continued upping the speed of his fingerbanging until I had to lean back and cling tightly to the desk behind me while I gave my presentation. It was such a degrading scenario that was made even more humiliating by the bald dude's noble manner. His mansplaining edged me on until I could barely finish my sentence, 'cause I felt like it might happen any second. My pussy was about to erupt! I was about to have a squirting orgasm! The pent-up tension and intense pleasure began overwhelming me!

I was getting desperate to keep a clear head. That was why I let go of the desk edge to pinch my nipples with the tips of my 'inelegant, harlot-ish' fake claws. Oh damn! What a sting! What a pain! There were too many concurrent sensations for me to handle. As a result, I lost control over my body. My knees buckled and wobbled, so much so that it floored me, like literally, 'cause I dropped to my knees. Not a second too soon, 'cause it prevented my orgasm... for now.

Mr. Baldie wasn't fazed with my new position. Not a bit gentlemanly, he pulled his raging hard-on from his pants. It was more than apparent that he enjoyed this bimbo version of my project pitch, so much so that he prompted me to continue.

"That's how I imagined the project pitch." He exclaimed. "What did I say, you can always learn a thing or two, no matter your age or position."

Oh wow! This dude seemed obsessed with this fantasy. For sure, I had made a lasting impression. For sure, I had given him sweet dreams. For sure, I had built-up his tension. Umph!

"Oh honey, we don't want to get lazy now." He quickly pushed me. "Your pitch's far from over."

Even though I winced in aversion, I started talking again. As soon as I opened my mouth, the company dude pressed his hard shaft against my right cheek and then my left cheek, like brushing my skin. Of course, that distracted me, making me stammer and babble more often than not.

Soon, he put his heavy balls on my chin. That way, his thick tool jutted right across my face up to my forehead. Mustering all my willpower, I continued citing scientific research from memory with a hard shaft residing on my nose. So absurd! So farcical! So disgraceful that it made me grunt in between. More than anything, it brought home the message that I wasn't a senior consultant anymore but a dumb bimbo doll. Gulp!

Probably in a way to motivate me and help me learn quicker, Anderson used his finger to flick his cockhead, making his dick bounce on my face, which intensified the humiliation ad infinitum. By now, I was whimpering from degradation in between my talking. Not that it mattered much. Why? Cause after a bunch of bounces, Mr. Baldie plunged his fleshy member into my mouth, which shut me up for good.

"Go on, honey! There's so much left to improve." The company man immediately chided me.

"Volatility... urgh... urgh... subject... urgh... urgh... frequent... urgh... urgh... change." I mumbled in between a barrage of heaves. "Uncertainty... urgh... urgh... cum-ponent... urgh... urgh...unpredictable."