Jessica's Change Management Ch. 13

"Please sir, the first task was really tiring. Can I have a drink... Sir?" I asked, licking my dry lips.

Gawd! I had been thirsty before but after getting throat-fucked by Justin I was parched.

"Of course, you can, my dear." Ortega replied with a sly grin. "For today, however, everything you drink comes from here."

With that, he took my wrist and placed my hand on his crotch. I could feel his cock through his pants. Despite watching me sucking off his henchman, he wasn't really hard.

Anyways, I wasn't so sure if he was telling me to suck his dick or if he had given a literal answer. So I insecurely looked up to the smug exec hoping for him to change his opinion.

"Justin told me you got experience as a pissy bitch already." The Latino snob clarified. "That's what you called yourself, I was told. So you want a drink, we need to build on that, bitchy face."

OMG! What a bastard! The memory of drinking Matt's piss during the frat boy party hit me. It had been so yukky! So gross! I had sworn to never do it again.

I was dying of thirst but that hurdle was too high. I wasn't desperate enough to sink that low. I wasn't desperate enough to give my archrival that kind of victory. No way!

About ten seconds passed while I kept my hand on Ortega's crotch. I didn't move and didn't say a word, either. Eventually, the smug exec shrugged and brushed my hand off his crotch. Obviously, I wouldn't get anything to drink for now.

"The second test it is then." The Latino snob exclaimed next.

"A sexretary needs to be capable of taking notes." Justin took over explaining the next test. "That's what you're gonna do while Mr. Ortega makes a phone call."

Oh wow! Taking notes? Typing documents? Drafting letters? How complicated! Come on, that was so stupid. Of course, I was capable of writing notes correctly. I mean, I was writing mails to clients all the time.

Anger was rising to my cheeks and I bristled at the rude intern. When Justin pressed a clipboard with a piece of paper and a pen into my hands, I almost threw it back into his face. This was beyond ridiculous. What a farce!

A tug on the golden 'boobie tie' brought me up to my feet before I snapped, though. For a moment, the sharp pain surging through my sore, swollen titties distracted me. That was enough time for the intern brute to drag me over to the desk where Ortega was sitting in his leather chair with the receiver by the hand.

I found myself standing next to Ortega's desk with my neckline unzipped and my juicy juggies laced up by a golden necktie, holding a pen and clipboard in my hands. I had never imagined myself in such a position! Not even as an intern during my college days had I been asked to do such menial tasks.

I was dehydrated. I was tied up uncomfortably. I was told to prove skills that were way beneath me. It was too much! It totally vexed me. My anger was boiling over. Ready to protest, my mouth snapped open and shut.

"Hello Mr. Miller, I'm glad to reach you." Ortega suddenly started the call without paying me any attention.

My clamor got stuck in my throat. He had called Mr. Miller, a lawyer from a local law firm we hired from time to time for legal assistance on current projects. I knew the man. He would recognize my voice. Dang! Ortega had nipped my protest in the bud.

For a while, the two made irrelevant small talk while I impatiently stood next to the desk listening to their chitchat. From their conservation, I could discern that the two were old college friends. I hadn't known that before!

Actually, I had never given it much thought but Ortega had quite the extensive old boy network to his disposal. Many times in the past, he had relied on his contacts to help him successfully complete projects. I had always turned up my nose at it. After all, I didn't need friends to do my work. Instead, I had always relied on my own hard work to be successful.

"We're in the process of hiring a new secretary." I suddenly listened up when a new subject came up. "If I remember correctly, you've gone through that process quite a few times already. Any tips as to what we should pay particular attention to would be much appreciated."

"You know, the crucial tips, not the typical politically correct blah." The smug exec added with a chuckle.

Woah! My eyes gaped open when I realized what my loathed rival was doing. He was hinting at the ass-essment center, wasn't he? Of course, he was. So cheeky! So shameless!

Ortega's overbearing insolence annoyed me so much that I almost threw the pen at him. How could he do that? How could he talk about my assessment as sexretary with an external business partner!

"Hehehe! Still, the old charmer, I see." I heard Miller responding with a snicker. "The strategy's quite easy actually. After all, we're talking 'bout secretaries here, not rocket scientists."

Jeez! Suddenly, the conversation was going in a completely new direction. Small talk was definitely over. These were two old boys cracking cheap jokes and being misogynistic. It came as such a surprise that I almost dropped the pen instead of tossing it at Ortega.

"We're following the 'ABC of hiring'. It's a safe bet." Miller continued. "Basically, it's a 3-D selection model with three dimensions. Every dimension stands for a characteristic to assess the job candidates. The applicant with the best overlap in all three dimensions should be hired."

Hm, that didn't sound like a joke. Actually, it sounded quite scholarly. Maybe, I had misjudged the lawyer. Maybe, I should better record the information about the selection model instead of throwing a temper tantrum. Better safe than sorry, right?

"You can remember each dimension quite easily." Miller further explained. "A stands for 'All Access Airhead'. B means 'Busty Booty Bitch'. And C stands for 'Compliant Cum-drunk Cunt'. Hehehe!"

Oh! My! God! My jaw dropped when I heard the explanation of each dimension. So much for being scientific. This was so sexist! This was so misogynistic! Every characteristic made me squirm in embarrassment.

Additionally, Ortega casually reached up and grasped my swollen, bulging boobies while Miller explained the dimensions. Almost as a side note, he pinched my swelled up titty flesh for every characteristic, making me squirm even more uncomfortably.

I felt so ashamed and so disturbed that I almost forgot to continue taking notes. Gosh! I had to write down this sexist stuff. Ortega and Miller continued joking around with the different dimensions. The lawyer even gave a few good stories about secretaries that had applied for jobs at the law firm and scored major points on the dimensions. To be honest, the way he described the candidates' looks sounded kinda similar to me. Gulp!

Finally, Ortega finished the phone call and put the receiver down. With raised eyebrows, he looked at me as if he was telling me to better make an effort to reach a high score in those sexist dimensions. In the meantime, Justin stepped up to me and took the clipboard off my hands.

"What a cute, girly handwriting!" The slimeball taunted me. "How did you write this down again, Missy?"

"Um... with my hand of course." I told him in confusion.

"Uh-oh!" He rang my alarm bells with his response. "That's not the way a sexretary's allowed to take notes. Too bad, bitch. The notes are great but you still failed the test."

No! He couldn't do that to me! Not after all the effort. Not after listening to that misogynistic phone call. Not after writing down those sexist characteristics.

"Sir, that's totally unfair!" I protested. "I didn't know! Nobody told me!"

"Please sir, let me try again. Let me take more notes." I tried to convince Ortega but he just shrugged.

"I was too stupid to ask." I pouted. "How's a sexretary supposed to take notes, sir?"

"Well, at least, you admit that you're dumber than a box of rocks." Justin allowed. "It's a start. For that, you might get a second chance."

I should be fuming at this sly, right? However, I was too relieved about getting another chance to worry about his taunts right now.

"You heard about the 3-D selection model, didn't you?" The taskmaster elaborated. "Draw it up on paper now, bitch."

Okie doke! That sounded kinda fair. I guess I could do that. Before I had a chance to agree, though, Justin stepped behind me and tugged on the 'boobie tie', making me bend over. He rudely grasped my white pencil dress and pulled it up to reveal the pearl necklace. Taking the bead chain, he tugged on it and roughly ripped it out of my asshole. Ouchie!

He didn't care about my well-being, or rather my butthole's well-being, the slightest, though. Instead, he grabbed the pen from the clipboard and pushed it up my ass. It was a ball pen so it wasn't too thick. As my bunghole had already been slightly stretched from the beads, it slipped in kinda easily.

"That shitter's ready to go. Definitely a good quality for a sexretary." The condition of my ringpiece didn't remain unnoticed by Justin.

"Always remember a sexretary's supposed to use her assets at all times, yummy dummy!" He told me while placing the clipboard on the coffee table.

Whatever! I had to figure out a way to write down the list with a pen up my ass. Come on, how was that supposed to work? How was I supposed to succeed at that? Totally absurd!

Yanking on my long, chestnut-golden tresses, the young henchman walked me over to the coffee table. With my hands resting on my thighs, he made me splay my legs so my ass was positioned over the glass plate and the pen hovering over the clipboard.

I had to clench my anal muscle to keep the pen up my butt. Lowering my ass, I had to clench my ringpiece even harder to keep the pen from sliding deeper up my ass. Gritting my teeth from the effort, I pressed the pen onto the paper as best as I could and started moving my hips.

I tried to draw up a graph with three axes. Then I moved over to the end of each axis to write down the characteristics of each dimension. For that, I had to remember the dirty puns.

What had Miller said again? The 'ABC of hiring', right? I couldn't help but wonder where Ortega would classify me. Would he see me as a thickie that offered all her holes to make up for her density? That was what I asked myself when I tried writing down 'All Access Airhead' for the A Dimension. Would he class me as a bitchy brat with big tits and phat ass? I wondered while writing 'Busty Booty Bitch' for the B Dimension. Would he mark me down as a horny slut obediently following each and every order? I deliberated when I moved my ass to write down 'Compliant Cum-drunk Cunt' for the C Dimension.

Actually, every characteristic kinda applied to me one way or the other, right? That realization made me even more nervous and embarrassed than before. Somehow, there seemed to be some truth to the 'ABC of hiring'.

When I was finished drawing up the graph, I couldn't tell if I had actually managed to write a single word or if I had simply scribbled some circles onto the paper. Taking the clipboard, Justin looked at the paper and started bursting into a fit of laughter. What was so funny?

"Look at that!" He eventually told me in between his chuckles.

Holding the paper in front of me, I gasped. Okay, that was the reason why he was cackling so hard. There weren't any words written down to laugh about. It wasn't even some scratchy scribbling that was hard to decipher. It was a totally illegible scrawl. You couldn't even figure out individual words. Instead, there were only scratchy lines and circles that cluttered about the paper. Any eight-year-old girl could write better than that.

Shoot! I had failed to take notes with my ass. I opened my mouth to tell some kind of excuse and ask for another chance. Holding up his palm, however, Justin stopped me before I even had the chance to say something.

"No excuses, bitch! I don't wanna hear no bullshit as pretext." The taskmaster hissed. "You got a second chance 'n you failed at all levels."

"Very disappointing indeed." Ortega chipped in, stressing his frustration with me. "No more second chances for the rest of the ass-essment center, I'm afraid."

"By the way, you're still thirsty, Missy?" The smug exec addressed me. "You look a bit dehydrated, I have to say."

"The offer still stands, bitchy face." He added, softly tapping his hand onto his crotch.

Gosh! He was so right. I was super thirsty. My tongue felt like a piece of sandpaper. My whole mouth was dry as a sea of dunes. On impulse, I almost walked over to my archrival and dropped to my knees. Any kind of fluid was fine with me now.

No, it wasn't! I stopped myself before I did something I would regret later on. I wouldn't admit total defeat to this swellhead. He could demote me to his personal ass-istant and fuck all my holes. He could make me perform in the silly ass-essment center and act like a dumb bimbo. Yet, he wouldn't make me voluntarily beg for his piss.

Actually, he could easily force me to take his stream of pee. However, he wanted me to defeat my own self-esteem and stoop so low as to ask him for his piss drink. Someone cheered too soon, though. No way, I would do it. I would keep a bit of dignity and refuse his nasty gift. So I shook my head no and steeled myself for whatever kind of retaliation.

"Suit yourself then." The smug exec replied to my astonishment.

He still wasn't about to force me, leaving me to stew in my pride and get thirstier by the minute.

"Nevermind, I have a business to run, so I can't hang around the office like a lazy sexretary all day long." He simply remarked.

"You may continue with the next test until I return, Justin." He instructed his henchman before he walked out of the office, leaving me alone with the intern brute.

After Ortega had left the office, Justin directed his attention back to me.

"You know what comes before the next task, Missy?" He inquired with a devious tone. "Let me spell it out for you, bitch. You failed the test. So you get punished to make sure you don't forget it again. Sounds fair, doesn't it?"

No, it didn't sound fair! Yet, I found myself nodding in affirmation. Gosh! I was agreeing with this evil brute about punishing me for failing the most ridiculous test ever. Dang! My anger had totally vanished. My will to get into his face was totally gone. I was totally submersed in sub space instead.

My man was gone. The only man I wanted to dominate me. Yet, here I was, obeying my archrival and his henchman and getting aroused by my submissiveness in the process. Oh Lordy! It was so frustrating. I totally despised it but couldn't resist.

After I had nodded my affirmation, Justin strolled over to the wooden desk totally relaxed. Slumping into Ortega's leather office chair, he called me over and opened a drawer.

Hesitantly, I tottered over to my rude intern. Basically palpitating with fear, I remained standing next to the desk. Leisurely, the young henchman gave me a look-over. Gawd! The way he was protracting the punishment drove me mad. I wanted to get it done and move on. Instead, Justin was building up the tension sky high.

Eventually, he pulled an object from the drawer. Seeing it, I had to gasp. It was a wooden ruler! Actually, it was the ruler used by D-Rod to punish me.

"Ah, someone's recognizing it." Justin chuckled when he saw the astonished look on my face. "I was told you had some good experiences with it. Hehehe!"

"Let's build on that 'n add some more experiences, Missy!" The intern brute added. "I mean, you wanna become a better office bimbo, don't you?"

Once again, I found myself nodding without giving it a thought. Whatever! My punishment was about to happen anyways, right? At least, I could keep some kinda dignity by enduring it without making a fuss.

The way Justin looked up to me from below with a mischievous grin told me how much he enjoyed the whole situation. Shoot! I really didn't want him to get any pleasure out of this. Yet, the realization that I was pleasing the man made my pussy throb greedily.

"Hold out your hands. Palms up, bitch." The young henchman ordered while he remained slouched on the leather chair.

Even though I felt like hesitating, I instantly pushed out my arms and turned my hands to offer my stretched out palms. With my rude intern sitting below me on the chair, I had to hold my hands at waist level to keep them below his face. The way I was towering above him, even though he was the one controlling me, made his dominance even more palpable.

Looking down at my palms, I was getting some kinda hunch where this punishment was heading. I could see the white, triple-strand pearl bracelets around my wrists, the sensitive skin and small creases on my palms, and the fake white nail tips extending beyond my fingertips. Gosh! The pearly trinkets and clunky nail tips made my hands look so bimboy.

"You drew 3 axes 'n wrote 9 words. So you made 12 slips with the pen, right, dollie?" The intern brute asked me.

Keeping my eyes lowered, I affirmed his rhetorical question.

"That makes 12 for each palm." Justin gathered. "You're gonna get 24 lashes then."

Hearing the sheer number made my heart skip a beat. However, I bit my lips and kept my posture. Even though my intern was sitting beneath me, I didn't dare look him in the eye.

"Ooowww!"

While I continued looking down at my bimbo hands, Justin had lifted the wooden ruler and whipped it down onto my palms. He had whacked both my palms with one smack and it had been a really vigorous blow.

The stroke stung so badly that I instantly turned my hands and rubbed them against each other to soothe the pain.

"Did I allow you to move, bitch?" Justin snarled at me.

His hiss made my blood chill and I quickly got back into position with my hands stretched out and palms turned upwards.

"Every time you move, we gotta start over with those 24 lashes. Gettit, bitchface?" The young henchman clarified.

Shoot! The first blow had hurt super badly already. I had to endure so many more. No way, I would manage to hold still. What if it turned into 48 lashes or even more? Oh my god! No way, I would survive that.

Lordy! Now, I was driving myself mad. I was totally overthinking this, wasn't I? Better stop thinking and start acting, girl. I mean, I was the office bimbo here, right? I wasn't supposed to mull over big decisions anyways.

"Ow! Ow! Ow! Owwwiiieee!" I yelped really loud seconds later.

Justin had lifted the wooden ruler and whipped it down onto my poor, sensitive palms. Three at one time! Oh boy, oh boy! It stung so badly. I really wanted to pull my hands away. The fear of restarting the punishment, though, outweighed the pain for now. So I hopped from one foot to the other while I kept holding out my palms.

"The yummy dummy's a squealer, ain't she?" Justin mocked my painful screams.

"Can't have you calling for attention, though, bimbo ditz." He chided me. "What if a consultant hears you? How do you wanna explain your mishaps?"

With that, he took his tie that was lying around on a sofa after he had previously used it to tie my hands to my head. This time, he turned it into a gag pushing the fabric into my mouth and tying it down at the back of my head.

"Mmmph! Mph! Mph! Mmmppphhhh!" I wailed again when the next 4 severe smacks raind down on my poor palms.

However, my screams got muffled by the 'tie gag' now. Nonetheless, my palms were on fire. The thin skin literally felt like it was on the boil and the heat was seething through my arms. My fingers wouldn't stop twitching after every blow. It was totally hard to keep my hands still for sure.

"Have you been bad, dollie?" My rude intern asked me.

"Ysss srrr, Ivvv bnnn baddd bmbooo." I mumbled through the 'tie gag'.

Even though my words were barely audible, I knew that he wanted to hear me grovel.