Jessicas Change Management Ch 16

--- Week 4 - Thursday ---

The task my boss had given me had been clear-cut. He had ordered me to run some personal errands for him. The way, I was supposed to carry them out, though, hadn't been that clear.

I know, I know. I had taken lotsa time to complete the errands, much more than I should have. However, I had an excuse, 'cause I had been busy. Too bad, I couldn't tell Ortega and Shelly what I had actually done.

That was why I pondered lotsa different excuses while I sped back to work from the taco joint. Instead of cooking up ideas, though, I mostly ended up checking my makeup and lip gloss in the rear-view mirror at every red light.

If I looked perfectly styled and totally fashionable, nobody would ask questions about my tardiness, right? After all, Rome, I mean a bimbo wasn't styled in a day. In the end, you can get away with lotsa thingies if you look pretty. I had learned that for sure.

Whatever! Arriving at the office, I hurried to the office kitchen. Reaching it, I remembered that I had forgotten some stuff. So I fetched my lip enhancer from my purse and put it on my mouth. I used the beauty tool while preparing the meal for daddy. So efficient!

Did I care if some of the consultants saw me? As if! Was I fetching dinner for my former rival? For sure! Was I neatly arranging the meal on a tray before serving it to my former equal? Of course! Was I bimbofying myself for my former colleague? Gladly!

What did you expect, though? My sky-high spike heels? So sexy but slowing me down. My pink mini dress? So saucy but restricting my every move. My long red-to-white ombré nails? So ladylike but making me clumsy. My plumped-up lips? So sultry but hampering my talking.

Let's face it. I was more appearance than substance and everybody knew it, which made me mostly unemployable but totally bimboy. I know, I know. I had denied it for the longest time, seeing myself as a sophisticated executive who was currently suffering a little, short-lived career low instead.

Now, I was seeing totally clearly, though. Being a bimbo was my strength. Looking pretty and acting compliant were my strong suits. That was all that mattered - to me anyways. After all, I had always striven to be the best at what I did. I had been a great student in college. I had been a great consultant in the firm. Now, I was a great bimbo in daddy's stable.

Whatever! Neither did I have the time nor the inclination nor the means to worry about my co-workers' opinions. If I provided some eye candy and brightened up their day, that was fine with me. After all, happy employees were more productive, right? So my job was important, too.

Carrying the tray up the stairs, I stopped in front of Ortega's door. Softly knocking, I waited for him to call me inside. By now, I had learned my lesson. Of course, he made me wait a coupla minutes. Making the bimbo wait was common courtesy, I guess.

When I finally got the call to enter the room, I sighed in relief. Shelly was nowhere to be seen. I had dreaded witnessing her sucking or fucking daddy again. So this was a win, for sure.

While I put the food on the coffee table, Ortega continued working as if nothing had happened. Without paying me any attention, he eventually strolled over to the table.

Surprisingly, my boss didn't address my tardiness. Instead, he looked at me with a sly grin when he got comfy on the couch. Then he suddenly started giving me order after order. Woah! So out of the blue!

His instructions made me hustle and move my tail for him. He had me hurry back to the office kitchen to fetch a soda can. Of course, he wanted it served in a glass, and of course he wanted ice cubes along with it.

Running back and forth several times, I picked up all the necessary stuff. Good thingie, it so wasn't a problem to grab the ice cubes and open the can with the tips of my super long porn claws. I totally owned those tasks. Coolio!

For sure, daddy made me continue to hustle and serve while he was having dinner. He had me fetch the newspaper and prepare an after-dinner espresso for him. I was really going distances here, especially 'cause I did all of it in my sky-high heels.

"One for me, one for you, Miss Bimbo." Ortega said when I had just handed him the espresso.

Um... I had no clue what he was talking about. Actually, I hadn't paid attention, 'cause I was way too busy with completing my tasks. Looking at the tray, I couldn't see what he was pointing at. What the fudge?

"Daddy oh daddy, I... um... can't see, you know, what's for me, fer shure." I almost pouted in disappointment.

"You have to look closer, I'm afraid." Ortega replied.

Okay! I gave it another try, looking down onto the tray. I still only saw the empty plate and the espresso cup. Dang! Oh wait! Right in front of me, I saw my cleavage, the two bulging fleshorbs with the deep slit in between. Tihi!

"Nothing there. Duh! Gag me with a spoon!" I piped up, which caused Ortega a furrowed brow.

For a moment, he looked like he would actually take a spoon and shove it down my throat to gag me. Oopsie! Then, however, he changed his mind and pulled the tray into the middle of the table.

"Ooohhh!" I exclaimed in surprise soon after. "Oookaaayyy!"

Drawing the tray away from me, the hidden part of it was getting pulled in front of my eyes, or more like pulled out from underneath my boobies. Oh wow! My rack had worked like some kinda superstructure, cloaking parts of the tray, and I hadn't noticed. So stupid! So cringy! However, silver lining and all, it showed that I literally had lotsa wood stacked in front of my hut. So shapely! So pretty! So most importantly!

Surprisingly, my stupidity didn't make my boss laugh or shake his head. Instead, he took my mishap really calmly. I guess it was a given for him. I guess it should be a given for me too then, right?

Whatever! I finally got to see what daddy was talking about. He hadn't forgotten about me. After all, I hadn't eaten anything since breakfast. So he let me have a piece of the pie, in a way. He had placed a stick of bubble gum on the tray. I got something to chew on. Yay! It wasn't actual food. Nay! Yet, it didn't make me gain weight. Yanay!

Nevermind. It kept me busy while I was waiting for my next task. So I occupied myself with popping my gum, blowing bubbles, and twirling it around my finger while my boss read the news. I could do this all day long. Tihi!

I didn't get to do it that long, though, 'cause the door suddenly opened, without a knock of course, and Justin walked inside. I hadn't really seen the intern during the workday 'cause Shelly had been at my side.

Neither had I sent him the selfies. Uh-oh! Ortega wasn't pleased with my forgetfulness. So he made me show him every picture and tell him the corresponding story. Soon, I found myself gushing about the car wash incident in all its sordid details while I continued chewing on my bubble gum. That didn't really help me speak more plainly but the intern didn't seem to mind.

When I got through to the prison selfie, I started making up a story from the grocery store, just as I had told Shelly before. By then, I was babbling off the top of my head. The story was kinda inconsistent but I was driveling so fast and so much that it didn't really matter.

"Just as I told you, Mr. Ortega." Justin addressed my boss. "The yummy dummy was running late 'n dawdling over her errands."

"The bitch needs to be on a tight leash." He elaborated. "You can't give a bimbo her head. You know, she's better at giving head anyways. Hehehe!"

"Too bad, Michelle doesn't get that." He reiterated.

The smug Latino allowed himself a chuckle over Justin's pun but nodded his head in agreement nonetheless. Oh dang! That wasn't what I had been going for with my prattling.

"Oh daddy! No way, I'm, like, a lollygagger or stuff. I mean, all righty man, I'm like, a super bitching gagger on a lolly, you know, like totes. Hihihi!" I protested.

"But... Duh!" I slapped my forehead when I realized my own silly pun. "Seriously! I'm, like, no time waster, fer shure. Oh man! I just got totally excited 'bout my smize and duckface. You know, their sooo trendy 'n sooo pretty!"

Okay! I didn't believe my reasoning myself. But that pun was actually kinda funny, wasn't it? At least, it made Ortega and Justin chuckle way harder than before. Yay!

"You see, Mr. Ortega. Smizes 'n duckfaces. Michelle failed at all levels. You should leave the bimbo in my care." The intern made a case for him as my supervisor.

Oh wow! I hadn't expected that. I couldn't have imagined that. Never ever! Shelly and Justin were fighting over the right to be my chaperone. This was a power struggle between a secretary and an intern. Two jobs at the low end of the office totem pole, and still I stood beneath both in the ranking order. Umph!

"I have to say, I appreciate Miss Trophy's office rules. Nice creative touch indeed." Ortega weighed the pros and cons. "Yet, you do have a point. I do not appreciate the long leash, I'm afraid."

"Howsoever, I quite like your new idea." He concluded. "You may put it to the test."

Idea? Test? Wait a sec! I couldn't keep up. This was totally going over my head. Wait another sec! Ignorance was bliss, right? At least, it was a typical bimbo trait, wasn't it?

Whatever! The two men weren't inclined to clue me in anyhow. Instead, Justin nodded like a soldier who had just received his marching orders. While my boss reapplied his attention to the newspaper, the intern grabbed my hand. The pop of my gum was the last sound heard in the office before he dragged me out.

Still confused, I tried my best to keep up with the young sleazeball in my sky-high spike heels. It was past quitting time by now so I figured he might take me home where he had planned some new, ridiculously sexist circus acts.

It turned out that I was right about the circus act. I wasn't right about the place, though. Justin led me down the stairs, not to the parking lot though, but to the basement. With a shudder, I remembered everything that had happened down here in the interns' chill-out room. Ugh!

The intern didn't step into that room, however. Instead, he walked me down the hallway to the storage room. I had never set a foot in there before. It was used to stow away damaged and defective office supplies and workshop materials only. I had never been concerned with stuff like that, 'cause I had been a high-ranking consultant, of course.

Just like the rest of the basement, the storage room looked the opposite of the office really. Instead of a modern and stylish arrangement with elegant furniture and high-end equipment, it was old and decrepit with flaking and peeling plaster. Scattered all over the place were discarded printers, monitors, and computers as well as broken flip charts and moderation boards. In the middle of the room stood a buncha used and weathered desks. What a sordid sight!

Justin led me right over to one of the old desks and made me lay down on the tabletop. When I was lying flat on my back, he seized a moderation board and placed it in front of the desk's short side. Huh?

Like the rest of the discarded equipment, the moderation board was totally worn out and battered. Most strikingly, though, it had a large hole in the middle of the board. What the huh?

"Uuuhhh..." I shrieked a second later when Justin grabbed my legs and pulled me towards him.

He dragged my body over the desk and didn't stop until he had pushed my legs through that hole in the moderation board. That way, my ass was hanging in the air on the other side of the board. The gray board acted like some kinda barricade, basically splitting my body in half. Yet, the intern didn't stop there, lifting my legs and spreading them apart.

ZIP! ZIP!

I heard some strange whirring sounds. I felt some hard thingie on my lower legs. I felt that thingie squeezing my ankles. Huh?

OMG! I couldn't move my legs anymore. They were tied! They were strapped to the board in a wide inverted triangle.

ZIP! ZIP!

Stepping up to me, Justin grabbed my arms one after the other. Once again, I heard the whirring sounds, felt the hard thingie on my arms, and noticed my wrists getting squeezed. The intern had strapped my arms to the table legs. Now, they were tied, too!

At least, now, I knew what had caused the weird sounds. The sleazeball had used some kinda black cable ties to secure my legs and arms, leaving me no way to get outta these shackles. Duh!

The intern brute didn't stop there, though. From outta nowhere, he suddenly produced a brown paper bag. Oh no! Oh no, no, no! He couldn't! He shouldn't! He wouldn't!

Of course, he did. With my eyes gaping wide, I jolted and rocked the cable ties. I rattled at it with all my might but to no avail. Helplessly, I had to watch Justin put the paper bag over my head. No! Ugh! No! I sobbed and sniveled uncontrollably but the sounds got muffled.

Even though I fought it tooth and nails, my arms were rendered useless and my legs were spread wide open. Not only that! My pussy and ass were open, too. My crotch was in perfect position for a guy to step in between and get down to business or busin-ass or whatever. What was more, my head, or more like my bitchface, was hidden by the paper bag. I was just a set of two open fuckholes presented on a silver platter. Umph!

SLAP! SLAP!

Out of nowhere, Justin smacked my ass. Uff! Those were some really harsh blows that should have made my entire body jerk and judder. Yet, I barely moved 'cause straps. Duh! There wasn't much wiggle room for me so the slaps hurt even more. Umph!

Nothing else happened until I heard the door opening and closing. Without another word, the intern had walked away. He was leaving me just like that, strapped to the table with my holes accessible and my sight blocked. What the fudge?!?

I couldn't move! I couldn't see! I could only scream for help. I didn't do so, however. I guess, 'cause I hadn't obtained permission. It would have done me no good anyhow. With the interns gone, there was nobody coming to the basement anyway.

I was trapped! I had been put in stocks! The terror!

While I waited for Justin to return, I realized that the moderation board worked as some kinda pillory. The sleazeball had put me here to name and shame me, right? He treated me like a paper bag whore whose face was so ugly it needed to be hidden. The indignity!

I waited 5 minutes. 10 minutes. Nothing happened. After something like 30 minutes, it dawned on me that the intern wouldn't come back. He had left me for good. I had to stay here for the rest of the night. The horror!

Just then I realized some other thingie. I guess I needed some time to grasps stuff today. The scenario resembled the situation when the interns had left me in the adjacent chill-out room during the lunch break. So uncreative! So unimaginative!

Still, I had to give Justin credit for upgrading the depravity. I mean, back then, I had been hogtied and the entire ordeal had only lasted a coupla minutes. This time, though, I had been put in a pillory with my face masked, and I had no clue how long it would last. Ugh!

Actually, I didn't know anything at all. How long would Justin keep me captive in here? Why had he put me in this stock or pillory or whatever? Why had he blindfolded me? Would anybody come to visit?

So many questions! So much ambiguity! So much lack of knowledge! It was simply too much. I couldn't deal with it. I couldn't really ponder these questions, 'cause I couldn't answer them anyway. So my mind just blanked out and I stopped thinking about the whole situation. Way easier! Way soothing!

Time went by. However, it didn't fly by. No way! It literally crawled at a glacial pace instead. Nothing happened except for me losing my orientation until I had totally lost all sense of time and space. Yet, I couldn't sleep. I was way too nervous and flustered and agitated.

As a result, my mind started wandering off and I began thinking about my outfit for the next day. Yeah I know, kinda unusual for the situation, right? Actually, not really 'cause looking pretty was a bimbo's main job, remember?

After all, I had to outdo Shelly. My outfit had to be bold but accent my assets. It had to stand out but look pretty. No easy choice there! It also had to be suitable for the office and meetings and errand runs.

What about a saucy color, like... pink? Of course, the bimbo color par excellence. What about sassy details, like... lace panels? Of course, the head turner par excellence. Oh wow! I had some awesome ideas. Actually, I had so many ideas that I must have fallen asleep over dreaming up all the different dresses and colors and styles.

CLANK! CLANK!

Some noise woke me. It was so loud that it made me start. Actually, I would have jumped if I hadn't been trapped in this darn pillory. There was some glaring light shining through the crack of the door although it was hard to see from underneath the paper bag. I could hear several persons talking outside the room. However, I couldn't recognize any voices.

Holding my breath, I lay on the table and waited. What else was there for me to do anyways. Duh! I so hoped the voices would trail off and the people would go away. From the scraps of conversation, I figured that it must have been the cleaning crew clocking in.

Oh wow! I had never met anybody from that crew 'cause they had always finished cleaning before I had arrived. The perks of being a senior consultant, I guess. Now, however, I was the first on site, even before the cleaning crew. The duty of the office ass-istant, I suppose. What a contrast!

Actually, I had never been keen on meeting any of the cleaners. I mean, they weren't really the clientele with which consultants used to mingle, right? Now, however, I didn't have a say in the matter anymore. I could only pray they would start their work upstairs.

Good luck, girl!

I heard the voices fading away. The cleaning crew must have left the basement.

Bad luck, girl!

Out of a nowhere, I heard a creaking sound. The door was opening. No! Out of the blue, the room lit up. Somebody had switched on the light. No, no! Out of a sudden, I heard footsteps. Somebody was entering the room. No, no, no!

I lay there helplessly as the situation unfolded. Terror shot through me. This was bad! This was so bad! I couldn't move or escape. I couldn't see who had entered the room. I couldn't find out if it was a man or woman. I couldn't even detect if I knew the person or not. Gulp!

Good thingie the room was cluttered with discarded equipment and my pillory stood in the far corner. Maybe, Justin had placed some stuff as a visual cover between me and the door?

Good luck, girl!

I heard the cleaner moving around on the other side of the room. He was probably mopping the floor. After some time, the footsteps were fading. He must have walked out. Yay!

Terrible luck, girl!

Suddenly, the footsteps were super loud and super quick. They were coming straight towards me! There was no mistaken it. The horror!

Whoever it was, the cleaner knew I was there. Of course, Justin hadn't given me any kinda privacy shield. Of course, he had wanted this to happen. The bastard!

"Dear cleaners, a little thank you gift for your hard work all year long. Please don't hesitate. Feel free to help yourself and make those holes yours." I heard a booming male voice I had never heard before in my life.

He was obviously reading out some stuff. Oh Lordy! Justin must have left a note stuck to the moderation board. It wasn't just a note, though. It was an invitation. Even worse, I wasn't just a tied up paper bag whore. I was a complimentary gift!

I couldn't believe it! I felt like I was about to faint. I had been tied up before, in my bedroom, in Ortega's office, in the chill-out room. But never like this, like a faceless set of holes served up to random strangers.