Jessica's Change Management Ch. 11

For a second, the arrogant douchebag stared straight into my eyes before the corners of his mouth pulled up and he spread his arms apologetically.

"Of course, bunny." He acted all casually. "Why don't you come inside first? We can discuss everything there."

Stepping aside, he cleared the path to the front door for me. Jumping at the chance, I strutted inside. Matt let me go ahead and directed me from the entrance hall into the kitchen.

"You like a glass of bubbly, lil tart?" He asked. "We got Prosecco just for you."

"Um, yeah... sure." I nodded reluctantly.

I didn't really want to drink too much alcohol, because I didn't want to get tipsy and lose my restraints. Yet, I was so nervous that I downed the glass of bubbly far too quickly.

"You want another?" Matt wholeheartedly acted the attentive host.

Before I could reject the offer, he had already refilled my glass. Trying to keep my composure, I sipped on it while starting to elaborate on my boundaries.

"I'm not gonna fuck your buddies, Matt." I insisted.

"Oh bunny, I'm sure you're nervous but this is just some fun." Matt reassured me. "It's all 'bout the party. Everybody's here to have some fun."

Standing in front of me in his slouched posture, the frat boy looked so relaxed, so non-threatening.

"I'm not fucking you in front of your buddies, either." I reaffirmed my position nonetheless.

He wouldn't take me for a fool so easily.

"Hey lil tart, relax! You ain't gotta do anything you don't agree to." He remained all casual while I finished my second glass of bubbly. "But hey, it's a present. You're doing a nice thing here."

"My bros are my guests today." He mentioned. "Surely, attending them for a bit ain't too much to ask, is it?"

Well, in a way, Matt was right. He was the birthday boy and my service was his present. He was throwing a party. Serving his guests wasn't too much to ask, was it?

"You won't tell anybody at work! Okay?" I persisted, knowing what a sneaky bastard he could be.

"Aw bunny! Me, you, D-Rod, we're all friends, ain't we?" Matt remained conspicuously calm. "Friends don't snitch on friends, right? It's just between us."

I would have considered Matt anything but a friend. Well, maybe a fuck friend but not a good friend at all. He was a sneaky, conniving son of a bitch, but he was also a very consequent person. Whenever he had started a task at work, he had usually seen it through.

"Promise me, please! Okay?" I insisted nevertheless although my persistence was only half-heartedly.

Maybe, it was the alcohol. Maybe, it was Matt's soothing, sweet-talking demeanor. Anyhow, it was relaxing me.

"Hey bunny, I understand! I promise not to tell any of your colleagues." He promptly obliged. "What happens at 'Yamos' stays at 'Yamos'."

It sounded as if he was honest with me but I guess I had also become suggestible from all the bubbly.

"Hey, you know, this is not just for me." Matt added as a side note. "You're doing this for my bros, too. Most of them have never seen a 'booze 'n bitches party'. You're not a full 'Yamos' alum without experiencing one so you're doing them a favor, bunny."

A favor for his buddies. I hadn't thought about that yet. I was doing a good deed here and good deeds go unpunished, right?

"Okay, lil tart. How about... I go into the clubroom 'n you follow me." Matt eventually suggested. "So I can announce you."

Walking behind Matt, I followed him into the entrance hall. By now, two frat boys were standing in front of the opposite door, holding a small box in their hands each.

"As I said, what happens at 'Yamos'' stays at 'Yamos'." Matt enlightened me. "No cells or cameras allowed during a 'booze 'n bitches party'."

"These two here, they're my top bros, Ben 'n Ryan." He introduced his two friends.

Both frat boys appeared to be sophomores like Matt and looked just as preppy. Ben had black over-gelled hair whereas Ryan had a carefully styled 'just-rolled-out-of-bed' look. By contrast, they both wore sky-blue polo shirts. That's typical frat boys for you.

"Now, be a good girl 'n hand them your phone, lil tart." Matt instructed me.

Oh no! D-Rod hadn't envisaged this! It was a huge roadblock for our plan. We couldn't pull it off without a smartphone.

I should have gotten nervous now, but I remained relaxed. Maybe, the glasses of bubbly were affecting my thinking. Maybe, I completely trusted my man. After all, it wasn't my job to make big plans and anticipate any unpredictability. It was my job to look pretty and distract Matt. I should better get started with it then, right?

"Hello boys!" I purred after putting on my brightest smile, puckering my lips, and kissing my right hand before blowing a kiss to both frat boys.

Reaching back, I pulled my smartphone from the hemline of my bright orange booty shorts. Dropping it into Ben's box, I noticed that it was filled with cells. Apparently, even the frat boys had to hand over their mobiles.

As soon as I had given them my smartphone, Matt led me into the room. It was the place where all the noise was coming from and turned out to be the clubroom. For me, it looked straight out of Hogwarts with its wood paneling at the walls. Large displays of the fraternity's Greek letters were hanging above a fireplace and photos of previous pledge classes lined the other walls. Two brown leather sofas stood around a coffee table in front of the fireplace and five luxurious, brown leather chairs encircled a massive, dark wooden table on the other side of the room.

All seats were taken by frat boys. I could also see Justin and Taylor mingling around. Apparently, there were some special rules for buddies who shared the same slut with a frat boy. All in all, it must have been about 20 young college kids. Wow! I was the oldest person in the house by a mile!

My introduction, however, completely differed from my expectations. I wasn't wearing a chic dress or elegant combination. I wasn't looking like Dr. Cougar. Quite the opposite. I was dressed as a simple-minded waitress in a ridiculously sexist uniform!

There was already a good boozing going on when I stepped into the clubroom. Taking in the whole scene, I remained standing in the doorframe. Suddenly, though, Matt's composed manner changed as he rudely shoved me into the room.

The noise of me stumbling forward interrupted the frat boys' boozing. It was as if Matt had carried an ice cream bomb with burning sparklers. Instantly, the chatter died down and they all became quiet. Silently, they stared at me while I turned red.

"Hey dudes, look what the cat dragged in!" Matt exclaimed triumphantly. "Guess I got an early birthday present. Sweet!"

"Y'all know I gotta do this lame-ass internship in this tight-ass consulting firm, right?" He continued. "This here is Miss Jessica Addams from the office. Though, she's rather known as Miss Brat, or Miss Tease, or Miss Ho-Worker there."

"The bitch's trying to be all legit at the office. She even thinks she's got some sorta career ahead of her. Hehe!" He snorted. "But bros, no one told her that's fucking ridiculous. She's never gonna be more than eye candy. Hehe! Once a stripper slut, always a stripper slut, right?"

OMG! In a heartbeat, Matt's behavior had switched back to his mocking ways. What a fucking dipshit! I had accepted that I wasn't looking like Dr. Cougar but he didn't even introduce me as a busty waitress, either. Instead, he announced me as some kind of unskilled stripper!

To top it all, he suddenly grabbed my chin, roughly squeezed my cheeks, and pulled my face forward, making me bent down.

"I mean, look at that constructed face, bros." He exclaimed. "Fringe in place, makeup loaded on, 'n brows sculpted all bitchy. It's optimized for sex, ain't it? If that ain't screaming stripper slut, bros!"

To emphasize his point, he pulled on my chin, holding my face out. Turning it this way and that way, he let all his frat bros inspect my thin, dramatically arched eyebrows and full fringe hairstyle with the ponytail and golden highlights. His fingers squeezing my cheeks hurt but I let him have his way with my body.

"What you think, bros? What's the perfect name for a bitch with a sexed-up face like that?"

Holy shit! The presumptuous douche was inviting his frat bros to vote for a name. Of course, the college kids didn't need to be asked twice. I was ten years older than all these young boys were and had a university degree to my name! However, I didn't look like a professor and obviously didn't have to be respected like one, either. I looked like a stupid stripper in a breastaurant uniform and obviously deserved the matching respect.

"Cumface!" Ben was the first to start shouting. "Dude, the slut looks like someone drove a fire truck up her butt!"

"Ahahaha!" All the frat boys laughed.

"No dude, it's gotta be bitchface!" Ryan disagreed. "You just wanna drill all the yammering outta that bitchy face."

"Ahahaha! Yeah! Ahahaha!" The fratsters laughed anew while I gulped in horror.

"Bullshit! Spunkface. That's it!" Justin chimed in. "You just look at that provocative face 'n you wanna blow your wad all over it."

"Ahahaha!" The frat boys continued roaring with laughter while I threw a disappointed look at my prim and proper intern.

Of course, he had to put in his two cents. He was getting more aggressive and reckless by the day. Matt definitely was a bad role model for him. Ben and Ryan, however, didn't strike me as reserved persons, either.

"Cumface, bitchface, spunkface." Matt repeated the three offensive suggestions. "They're all good."

"Man, I can't decide." He exclaimed. "But hey, look at the slut's bling bling. I guess she prefers bitchface, bros."

No! I didn't prefer that name! I didn't like any of the three names! Pointing to the rhinestone 'B' charm dangling off my waist chain, however, Matt made his frat bros hoot in affirmation. And with that, it was decided.

"Awesome, bros! Now, the bitch got the fitting stripper name." Matt announced. "Missy Bitchface. Ain't that cute? Hehehe!"

Of course, all the college kids agreed although Justin was the one shouting the loudest. Damnit! I didn't get out of this anymore. Matt nudging me in the side didn't leave me another choice, either.

"Yay! It's me, Missy Bitchface!" I blared out with a fake smile on my lips and my manicured, French-nailed index fingers pointing at my highbrows.

I felt so stupid, and I must have looked just as stupid. However, it amused the frat boys to no end because they couldn't stop laughing their asses off. Matt waited until the group had calmed down before he carried on.

"So cool we cleared that up. Now, there's room for another improvement." He announced while stepping up to the table and grabbing an object.

In a way, it looked like a chain. On closer inspection, I recognized the item and it made my mouth gape. It was the rhinestone choker from one of D-Rod's bimbo pictures. A piece of glittery jewelry that comprised a broad rhinestone choker and two rhinestone wrist cuffs connected by two chains.

"Don't gawk, bitch! Put it on." Matt ordered, holding the accessory out for me.

The tacky jewelry was glittering so brightly it almost blinded me and made me snap back to my firm stand. The glasses of bubbly and the boys' noisy approval had made me suggestible but I wouldn't let them dupe me so easily. I would remain steadfast.

"This hasn't been our agreement, Matt." I reminded the arrogant host. "I'm here to attend to you and your guests."

"Oh... of course, bunny." Matt stopped short for a moment before becoming calm and non-threatening again. "You'll get plenty of time to provide your service."

"However, this is a theme party. It's 'booze 'n bitches'." He explained smoothly. "My bros take care of the booze part 'n you take care of the bitches part. The choker only supports the theme."

"You don't wanna take over the booze part, do you?" He asked me.

Seeing all the empty beer bottles on the table and remembering the stock of beer crates in the kitchen, these frat boys could obviously drink like fish. By contrast, I already felt tipsy after two glasses of bubbly. Boozing definitely wasn't my expertise. Being a party bitch on the other hand...

"Justin 'n Taylor specially bought the collar for this party." Matt added. "You don't wanna disappoint them 'n reject their gift, do you?"

Justin and Taylor were D-Rod's intern buddies, so of course, I didn't want to disappoint them. I didn't want to be cruel and disrespect their effort. Damnit! The consulting world was a cutthroat business and I had always been known as a tough negotiation partner. Outside of work, however, I had always been emphatic and susceptible to peer pressure. Just as I was now.

"Fine, I'll wear it." I relented to a round of applause. "But no other objects or clothes!"

"Oh, we'd never give you more clothes than necessary, lil tart." Matt replied with a chuckle, handing me the choker.

Putting it on, I tried hard to look Matt in the eye and blank out the audience. Closing the clasp behind my neck, though, I couldn't hold his gaze anymore and had to look to the ground. Donning the choker with the attached chains felt like being leashed by Matt. Jeez! I was taking another step towards being his docile pet.

"Pull those chains through your cleavage underneath your top, slut bunny." Matt ordered.

As quickly as I could, I stuffed the chains into my top and threaded them through my cleavage. At the lower hemline, I pulled the chains out and closed the cuffs around my wrists. With four rows of rhinestones, the choker was extremely broad and the wrist cuffs were extremely clunky. What a tacky piece of jewelry! Worse than its gaudiness, though, was the fact that my arms were tied to my head now. I wasn't just leashed, I was also shackled! Great!

"Look at you, Missy Bitchface!" Matt addressed me. "You definitely got the bitch part down. All I see's a serving hoe, no office worker. Cobbler stick to your lasts. That's what I always say."

"Today, bros, it's our job to show the bitch those lasts." He prompted his buddies. "You're down for that?"

My lasts? OMG! He had introduced me as an unskilled stripper who was unable to cope with menial office work. What did he understand by a stripper's abilities then?

Obviously, his little speech had been convincing as the college kids started hooting their approval. They definitely agreed to get trashed and use the stripper for their amusement. The 'booze 'n bitches party' was about to get into full swing.

"Teach a stupid bitch some lessons? Epic shit! Count me in..."

"Sweet! This bitch looks totally down to fuck, not like the last few stripper hoes..."

"What a dumb ass bimbo, thinks that outfit's her right size..."

A mixture of dirty comments and snarky laughter swelled up and swapped over me. Even in their half-drunk condition, the fratsters were already displaying rowdy and reckless behavior. This would only get worse the longer the party lasted.

Usually, I would have accepted neither the boys' rowdiness nor Matt's humiliations. In my tipsiness, however, I passively stewed in my embarrassment and smiled invitingly. Red-faced, I tried to avoid the frat boys' gazes and looked out of the window.

Ever since I had put on the uniform, I hadn't found time to inspect how it suited me. Given that it was night outside, however, the dark windows were like mirrors. I could instantly see what was causing the college kids' comments. What I saw surpassed anything I had imagined.

Another emotional shock that only increased my shame! The student was right. The outfit didn't fit me at all.

The white tank top got stretched so thin across my heavy boobs it looked like the fabric was about to burst any second. With the logo displayed right beneath my juicy juggs, they looked even bigger than my actual 36c bust and the outline of my dark areolas with my puffy nipples in the center were outrageously evident through the stretched fabric.

"Hey dude! The bitch's only dressed as a waitress or what? She gonna serve some beers or not?" A senior called Aaron, sporting a striped polo shirt and side-parted blond hair called out. "We're all outta booze!"

"Take care of that, slut bunny." Matt told me in response, giving me a shove to the back to set me in motion.

His calmness was gone again. The presumptuous host sent me through the entire length of the clubroom to reach the kitchen. In my white, high-heeled wedge sneakers, I could only totter there, which elicited a new round of mocking comments from the college boys.

Looking at the dark windows, I could see the reason. Everything I had to offer was bouncing and jiggling. Beyond that, the bright orange booty shorts were so small that half my ass hung out.

Reaching the kitchen, I was burning with shame from the taunts. To calm myself down, I swiftly poured me another glass of bubbly. After emptying it far too quickly, I grabbed a tray and placed beer bottles on it. I couldn't believe that I was about to serve a bunch of drunken frat boys like an unskilled waitress – especially like such a 'hootered up' waitress.

If you had asked the college kids what they took for my job at the office, I bet they would have gone with secretary or receptionist. I wasn't so sure if I would have taken myself as an executive, either.

When I returned to the clubroom, I noticed that the party had spread out to several rooms. Matt and four of his frat bros had stayed in the clubroom. They had gathered around the wooden table and started playing some kind of drinking game. Making a round, I handed them new beers and carried off the empty bottles. Whenever I gave a frat boy a new drink, he stared at my big, ole funbags or my bubble butt eating my shorts and made a dirty comment to his bros. They barely looked me in the eyes and only seemed interested in my 'assets'.

I couldn't believe that I was obediently serving these young, pompous college kids drinks so easily. I had fought long and hard to avoid serving my interns coffee or lunch! I still had my pride after all! This was a different situation, though, wasn't it? We weren't at the office. We were at Matt's birthday bash and my service was his birthday present.

On my way back to the kitchen, I found another band of about seven guys in the adjacent entertainment room that boasted several sofas, a large plasma screen TV hanging on the wall, and a bunch of game consoles. Taylor had joined them to play some video game.

Justin had followed the third group into the leisure room that was equipped with a ping-pong table, dartboard, and several old pinball machines. Of course, each group had me serving them fresh beers, too.

Tottering on my high wedge sneakers, it wasn't so easy to balance the tray on my hand, especially with the glasses of bubbly affecting me. Several times, the beers started wobbling, giving the boys plenty of good laughs.

When all college kids had full beers, they made me serve chips and other snacks. They constantly called me to their rooms, asking for just about any item I could serve them. Therefore, I had to hustle from one room to the other, until I broke out in a sweat. Fortunately, Matt and Justin offered me a few glasses of bubbly whenever I came by which I gratefully accepted to quench my thirst.

At least, all the running gave me time to check out the frat boys. Basically, they all acted like preppy, over-privileged brats. No doubt, they were popular by a certain kind of women. My impression, however, remained that they were mostly jocky douchebags.

With all the beer flowing freely, the mood was getting boozier. The fratsters were slowly losing any kinds of inhibitions. When I reached the large wooden table in the clubroom on my next beer round, Ben, one of Matt's top bros, had a new idea.