-- Wednesday --
This was it! The big finale!
It was make-or-break time, 'cause it would be my final appearance in the business world. It was all-or-nothing, 'cause it would be decisive for my future. The task was clear: Host a cocktail party for the local high society and broker some contacts for LGZ. The goal was just as evident: Become the most valuable puta for the gang by sweetening some deals.
Damnit, diva! We need to be cautious more than ever! Cheer, chica! We're tailor-made to be the hottest host and bubbliest broker ever. As you see, beautifool and bimbecile were still bickering and squabbling like brattish twins! Anyhoo, let me start back at the prison...
After Perez had sent me outta his trailer, I had to wait at the prison facility before D-Rod was ready to go. Apparently, they had some additional stuff to discuss that wasn't meant for my ears. Like it mattered! All that mattered was my man's return. He was finally back from his exile thingie. So hard to put into words how elated and cheery and joyful I felt. Now, all would fall into place and be brilliant. So awesome!
I was ultra excited, so much so that I was super chatty and babbly. That was why I told my man all the stuff that had happened since he had been sent away, like the way Ortega had exploited me and Shelly had competed with me. In addition, I showed him all the upgrades and enhancements I had gotten. So amaze!
By contrast, Sir Da-Rod didn't really say lots. He excused it with all the stuff occupying his mind 'cause there was so much going on with LGZ. Anyhoo, he enlightened me about his exile thingie. Following our coup d'etat at the frat party, Ortega had sent him to a consulting office in another town. Now, that the four weeks of his internship were over, he had returned home.
More importantly, though, we had a business event to organize. In a way, I was outta my depth, 'cause I had never really planned any kinda thingie on that scale. Fortunately, Perez had given D-Rod clear instructions. All I had to do was to reconnect with my old business contacts, as in call the managers and executives from the local business network and invite them to a cocktail party.
Gosh, damsel! We so moved on already. We've literally left the corporate world in the dust. We're so ready to concentrate on our blissful bimbo life in our bouncy barbie world. Get a grip, vulg-ho! It is what it is! We all gotta make hard choices one time or the other! With our knowledge of the local business community, it's a home-field advantage!
No matter the pros and cons, it still rattled me. That was why I probably paced through my house for about an hour after returning home, with the devil of restraint and angel of temptation bickering and moping. Or was it the other way around?
Anyhow, I had a new resolution. Remember? Teamwork was dream work! As their strengths and weaknesses complemented each other, bimbecile and beautifool had to work in unison. Only if they played in tune, literally like a bimbo band, did I stand a chance to sex-ceed! For this reason, I needed a solid plan first before putting it into action with some cheeky behavior.
My advantage? I had Sir Da-Rod at my side now, so this wouldn't be a problem anymore. Why? Cause he would be my pillar of strength and rock in the waves. His calming influence would bring me back to earth when I got too dramatic. Yay! At the same time, his macho instigations would incite me when I wasn't bubbly or bouncy enough. Yay! Yay!
Thinking about my man, I clutched my golden necklace with the ruler trinket resting in my silicone valley. It instantly worked as a calm anchor, silencing the squabbling voices. So amaze! As a consequence, I finally managed to gather my courage to pick up the phone and call my contacts. See? It worked already! Sorta. For starters, I only contacted local businessmen, 'cause I didn't dare calling my fellow entrepreneuses just yet. After all, the first step was the hardest, right?
-- Thursday --
Of course, the cocktail party was kinda last minute and short dated. That was why we had some problems securing a location for the event. In the end, I had to make a decision that I had totally hoped to evade. Anyway, it was what it was, right? So, I made a trip to the local country club.
I had never liked or enjoyed attending the club, 'cause I had never really fit in with the crowd. Mostly, there were only two types of members, the smug city slickers and stuck-up prigs on the male side and the materialistic gold diggers and vain trophy wives on the female side. Basically, different versions of Ortega and Shelly. Tihi! But wait! Materialistic and vain? Sounded like Jessie the B.I.M.B.O. Duh!
Truth be told, I had toyed with the idea of canceling my membership 'cause money issues. For the moment, though, I was kinda glad that I hadn't gone through with it as the country club was the purr-fect location to tout our cocktail party. Anyhow, I first had to secure the place, hadn't I? That was why I dressed kinda conservative even though I totally despised it. In the end, I opted for a somewhat simple white minidress that ended just above my knees with a pair of black, lace stockings to hide my nude legs.
Grin and bear it, diva! The goal's to meet our girlfriends without scaring them off. Boohoo, chica! Our new babies are totally hidden. That's too boring and half-assed. Hold your horses, bimbo band! We can strike a balance. Let's add some flashy yet unrevealing details.
See? The calm anchor at work. It helped me keep the bimbo band in check 'cause compromises. After all, T.ogether E.very part A.chieved M.ore, right? That was why I chose a jacket with a faux fur hood. Flashy? Check! Unrevealing? Check!
On my way into the country club, I ran into the security guard called Tucker. He was the most ill-mannered dude I had ever met and that meant lots, what with the men I was hanging out lately, right? The dude always made sure to check the ladies' IDs and membership cards way too long so he could eye them up super lewdly. What a creep! Today, however, he was too busy with some preparations for a big event.
Pout, damsel! Totally flying under the radar here! Any attention's better than no attention. Gross, vulg-ho! That's the creepiest dude ever. Steady, bimbo band! We're on a mission here! No flashing our silicone valley or tossing our bottle blonde tresses unless it helps lure in a businessman!
Bad thingie? As the big event was about to take place the next weekend, the preparations were well advanced. For this reason, we couldn't book the club for our cocktail party. Dang! I had attended this annual gala called 'Monte Carlo Ball' once before. It had been the most overblown, pompous extravaganza ever, so much so that I had sworn to never take part in any comparable event again. Yet, here I was planning a ball just like it. Duh!
What a flop! What a setback!
Snap, chica! Can you say drama! Time to panic! Jeezus, diva! We never liked the location in the first place. Now, we can dodge that janitor creep. Focus, bimbo band! We need a solid idea for a location and sexy seduction to secure it.
In fact, teamwork was of the essence here. In reality, however, it would be practically impossible to find a replacement on such short notice, no matter my seduction skills. That was why I had to clutch my necklace to keep myself from going into hysterics 'cause calm anchor. Phew!
Silver lining? Even if I had failed to book the premises, I still managed to get a buncha local high society ladies to agree to attend the cocktail party. How? By telling them that it was a test run for the 'Monte Carlo Ball'. So clever, diva! So bold, chica! Such planned audacity, bimbo band! Oh, I also told them that it was a 'Bad Taste Ball', so I could dress in one of my super skimpy, super saucy bimbo outfits without making myself too conspicuous. Totally savvy, vulg-ho! Totally daring, damsel! Total rash intent, bimbo band!
Phew! That had been hard work, so much so that I felt stressed already. Anyhoo, I first had to tell Sir Da-Rod about my failure to secure the location. Then we had to come up with some new ideas for a venue. Gasp! It was so much more hard work that it left me really exhausted.
For this reason, I made off to a wellness center to get an awesome massage while D-Rod headed off to meet important men to find the right location. Actually, I was kinda glad that I didn't have to do that exhausting and strenuous stuff. By contrast, I could really use the quiet and relaxation. After all, I had to be the hottest host and bestest broker at the party. I had to be really relaxed to pull off all the socializing 'cause it was all about matchmaking to find the right partners for LGZ. That would be stressful enough.
-- Friday --
After my wellness day, I woke up all refreshed. D-Rod was still busy organizing stuff for the cocktail party, so I was on my own for the day. Again! Anyhow, we had another long phone conversation where he told me that one of my business contacts had stepped in and offered to provide his house for the cocktail party. Yay! One less worry! That party saver also had a catering service at his disposal, so I didn't have to mind that stuff either. Yay! Yay! No more worries!
As a result, I didn't have any kinda assignments for the day, so I decided to do what a bimbo does best. What exactly? Shopping! Duh! After all, most of the clothes that fit my new 36f bust came from the adult store. As I was a full-blown bottle blonde with black undertones nowadays, I focused on two looks that suited my hairstyle.
First, all thingies pink! I chose several super cute pink minidresses, some slashed and some skintight. Along with them, I also bought a few skimpy pink crop tops, some with zip-up front and some spandex. So sweet! Second, all thingies animal print! I selected several outfits in Leopard print, like a corset and wetlook leggings. On top of that, I bought a few outfits in Cheetah-style, like a bolero jacket and mini skirt. So roarrr!
-- Saturday --
After two days without lotsa attention or sexual activities, I was getting super edgy and agitated. That was why I spent most of my time trying out different outfits, 'cause I was way too hyped for my new clothes not to use them. After all, they were purr-fect for the 'Bad Taste' motto, weren't they? However, I had bought way too many clothes to use on a single day or party or whatever.
Heads up, diva! We so can't overshoot the mark 'cause brilliant broker! Come on, chica! Gotta set a good example 'cause 'bad taste' motto. For fuck's sake, bimbo band! Let's strike a balance 'cause T.ogether E.very doll A.chieves M.ore.
Okie! Compromise was the topic of the day. That was why I combined several styles. As the super tight and extra flimsy spandex had worked purr-fectly before, I put on the neon pink spandex crop top that barely ended underneath my boobastic boobies and sported huge 'Fabulous' lettering across my fat fake funbags. You content, diva?
In addition, I paired it with the vinyl Cheetah-print mini skirt that was tight but not too short as it reached down to my knees. On top of that, I wore the Cheetah-print bolero jacket that just about covered my nippies and somewhat shielded my monster melons. You satisfied, chica?
To round off my style mix, I had found the purr-fect boots. Actually, I had spent lotsa time driving around town to find them. Putting them on sufficed to make me feel all glittery and glammy. Why? Cause it was a pair of 7inch Cheetah print ankle boots with 3inch neon pink platform and stiletto heels. The special effect? The Cheetah upper had been made with a shimmering print whereas the platform and heels were sprinkled with glitter. Content and satisfied, bimbo band!
