--- Week 3 -- Thursday ---
Wednesday had been a long, hard day at work that I had barely survived without D-Rod getting canned by Matt's reckless actions. However, I didn't have much time to reflect on the frat boy's revolt, because I had to leave for a two-day business trip out of town the next day.
My department's biggest change management project was expiring. I thus had to pitch a proposal for its extension. The project earned a big chunk of my department's revenues and was critical for the prosperity of our firm. Therefore, the pitch had to be successful. With all the dares and drama, however, I had barely found time to prepare for it.
Dressing for the meeting, I was torn. On the one hand, it was important to look business-like and sophisticated. On the other hand, I knew that D-Rod wanted me to keep up my sexy glamour doll style. Two things that weren't easy to combine.
In the end, I decided on a tight gray blazer with black buttons and black collar, buttoned just below my titties, and a tight gray pencil skirt with black side stripes. Underneath, I wore a black shirt. Keeping up the black-and-gray color scheme, I put on black seemed stockings and gray, peep toe, high heel sandals with black ankle straps that had a 1.5" platform and 4" heel.
As the meeting took place out of town in the clients' office, I could deviate from D-Rod's rules and wore a lace bra and lace panties. To add some spice to the outfit, I chose a bra and panties set in red. The keywords were no skin but lots of curves.
As I didn't want to appear too dolled-up, I decided to leave off any accessories. A text message by D-Rod, however, thwarted my plans.
*No matter where n when. Remember ur pet signs, missy.*
Damn! Even out of town, my man tried to control me. Could he find out if I followed his rules? Unlikely. Still, I didn't even think about disobeying his orders. I guess, subconsciously, I had hoped for these instructions, because I had dutifully brought all my pet jewelry along.
I thus put the silver ruler charm bracelet and the silver dice charm bracelet around my wrists. I also added the rhinestone arm cuffs and hung the rock necklace around my neck. However, I didn't dare to add the rhinestone anklets because they were far to eye-catching.
Looking into the mirror, the outfit still didn't show much skin. Nonetheless, the flashy accessories made me look more like a sexy, blinged-up secretary than a project head. Damn! My project pitch had to be highly competent and most convincing to keep the clients focused on the presentation. I really had to bring my A-game.
I didn't.
Standing in my tight gray business outfit in the middle of the conference room, I tried my best to conduct a convincing presentation. It didn't go smoothly at all, though. Whenever, I lifted my arm and pressed the presenter to proceed to the next slide, the ruler bracelet clashed against the arm cuff with a loud clang. Not only did it distract the clients, it also drew their attention to my flossy accessories.
The third clanking caused the project committee chairman Mr. Moore, an old overweight man with a coil of gray hair, to cough all piqued. In response, I simply giggled bashfully and continued my presentation. What else was I supposed to do?
The rest of the presentation didn't go much better. Over and over, I lost the common thread. The missing preparation plainly made itself felt and I appeared less than convincing.
Mr. Wilson and Mr. Anderson, the two middle-aged committee members, however, didn't seem to care much about the presentation anyways. The black-haired Mr. Wilson couldn't stop gazing at my cleavage, his eyes basically falling down my neckline. The bald Mr. Anderson kept on staring at my jewelry, obviously trying to figure out the meaning of my charm bracelets. Several times, they stuck their heads together, whispered to each other, and chuckled. Only the two elder committee members, Mr. Moore and Ms. Thomas seemed interested in my project pitch.
"Miss Addams? What is your answer?" The chairman interrupted me.
Shit! The elder, gray-haired man with the grouchy features had asked a question and I hadn't listened. Instead, I had stared at his lap thinking about his cock. Damnit! My mind was constantly wondering off to anything sex related.
"Oh! Let me think." I finally said in response.
OMG! I sounded totally clueless. Even worse, I lifted my hand and put my long, fake French nailed index finger on my lower lip while thinking. I must have looked way over my head and couldn't come up with an eloquent respond. Hence, I basically repeated the bullet points from the last slide until the gray-haired chairman interrupted me again.
"That does not answer my question, Miss Addams." He huffed, sounding annoyed.
I was getting antsy. Fuck! I didn't know the goddamn answer. I hadn't even gotten the question.
"I was asking about our employees' speed of adoption and utilization of the new quality management tool during the change process. Do you have any data on that?" The chairman repeated his question, sounding even more annoyed.
"Oh... yes... of course!" I quickly stammered in response. "I just wanted to put the data in relation, you know, to my presentation. Hihihi!"
Oh my... not only was it a feeble excuse it also sounded that way and my apologetic giggles didn't help, either.
"I brought copies of the data sheet. Let me hand it out to you." I continued, trying to save the situation.
Hastily, I stepped over to my brief case, which I had placed on a chair close by, and leaned forward to pull out the data sheets. Unfortunately, my days as the interns' luxury toy had gotten me used to bending over in the most seductive way with legs straight and ass raised high. I didn't even notice that I was leaning forward the exact same way, until I heard another piqued cough behind me. This time, it was coming from Mrs. Thomas, a business woman in her forties with strict facial features and a rigorous blond braid.
Panic-stricken, I looked back over my shoulder and saw all four clients staring at my knockout ass. With my legs straight, the pencil skirt's gray material got stretched thin over my juicy buns and the black side stripes framed my ass cheeks, making my bubble butt look even more bootylicious.
Instead of quickly straightening up, though, the middle-aged clients' lecherous looks made me unbent ever so slowly. What the fuck had gotten into me? This was a serious situation! There was a lot on the line for my department! Yet, my time as Miss Brat had conditioned me into acting like a tease whenever I got male attention. I didn't even do it intentionally.
Nonetheless, I was nervous as hell. I could only hope that my sexually suggestive, tantalizing behavior earned me plus points. Turning around, I noticed big smiles on the two middle-aged clients' faces.
The two elder clients, however, didn't look amused at all. Ms. Thomas glared at me in such a repulsed way as if my ditzy behavior negated everything women had achieved in the working world over the last decade. By contrast, Mr. Moore looked totally annoyed. Shit! After all, Mr. Moore was the chairman making the final decision!
Realizing this, I fully panicked. Frantically, I reached up and brushed a few long chestnut tresses out of my face before continuing with my project pitch. In my hurry, though, I wasn't careful. Lowering my arm, the armlet got stuck in the neckline of my black shirt. A rhinestone got tangled in the black material. Before I noticed it, the neckline got pushed down and my red bra slipped out.
Nooo!
This couldn't be happening! Not today! Not to me!
I had a bra slip right in the middle of the conference room during the most important project pitch of my career! The red lace material was clearly visible for all the clients.
The shock was so overwhelming that I froze and couldn't move for a couple of seconds, continuing to show off my red lace bra. Seeing Wilson and Anderson sticking their heads together, I could hear a few scraps of their conversation.
"Told you it's red!" Anderson quietly quipped.
"Man! I thought she'd be braless." Wilson replied almost disappointedly.
They had been betting on my undies! Hearing that made my face flush and didn't help my stiffness. It took me a few more moments before I was able to clumsily untangle my shirt from the arm cuff and push the neckline back over my red lace bra.
Stepping up to each client, I handed out the data sheets while trying to hide my embarrassment behind a bright, fake smile. It didn't help, though. The milk was spilled. The clients' minds were made up.
While I explained the data, the clients appeared rather disinterested. At least in my presentation, in my curves not so much. The two middle-aged men continued eyeballing me whereas Ms. Thomas' repulsed look became ever more evident.