Bimbo Tale
by MichelleLovesTo
“Ms. Pavlovski, this is a special surprise,” said Donahue.
Liar.
He stood up, but took his time. It no longer cut it that her father had liked him – she didn’t. If all went well, the condescending prick would be out of her life shortly.
She glanced around a room that seemed more like a salute to masculinity than the office of a professional. It was a moose head short of being an utter cliche.
“I was in town and decided to stop in and discuss with you something rather... curious. Since there was nobody out front, I let myself in.” She paused. “Mind if I sit down?” She was tempted to punt the red remote control car idling in front of the chair, but instead used the toe of her navy pump to push it aside.
He picked up a remote and aimed it in the general direction of the toy. “Come to papa” The car disappeared around the desk. “Of course. Please have a seat; you own it anyhow.” His laugh had an edge.
“Yes, I do,” she said, enjoying the tightening around his mouth. “Feel free to sit in the other seat I own. Mr. Donahue…”
“Mike,” he interrupted. He sat down once again. An average sized man, he was the type to spread out and take up extra space. She, on the other hand, had opted to sit with her legs crossed. Had they not been crossed she would have kicked herself for losing in the body language contest. She was aware of him staring at her legs.
“Mike, it’s not my norm to interfere with the daily running of the offices any more than is strictly necessary, but I was speaking to Arthur Hodgins the other day and he pointed out that you have a secretary on the payroll for an exorbitant sum. A woman by the name of ‘GiGi’. I’ve spoken to GiGi before and the pet rock I had as a child had more brains. I’d figured there was nepotism going on somewhere and wondered how Virginia tolerated the little idiot but, as the office is profitable and my father had such high regard for your acumen, I looked the other way. Then, Hodgins told me her last name was the same as Virginia’s—Gerard—and I assumed more than ever that I was right about nepotism. I figured this GiGi was Virginia’s little sister and I asked for both of their personnel records. It appears that there is no GiGi, only Virginia, and Hodgins just assumed upon looking at the file that it was a nickname.”
“Hodgins is right.”
She didn’t understand why this man commanded so much loyalty. “I’m positive I don’t understand.”
“I said, Ms. Pavlovski, that the man is right. Technically, we’re only discussing one woman.”
He’d slowed down his rate of speech an almost imperceptible amount; still, she got the message. She wondered if he’d lined up a job elsewhere. “Are you intending to explain? Has there been malfeasance?”
“Big word. Impressive. We’ve determined that Virginia can do her job in about ten to fifteen hours a week. Since she used to spend a great deal of her time talking about the schools she attended and the awards she’d won, nobody in their right mind wanted to work for her, so I made her her own secretary.”
“You’re not making sense. Virginia is in MENSA, we recruited her because of her brilliance...”
“So she said... often and in a quite penetrating tone. That happens to women some times – they mean to be heard and instead sound like yippy little dogs. This is fine, except they shouldn’t compete with the big dogs. I was tolerant of her for a long time because she earned her way, and now she certainly does.”
Christiana made sure to regulate her own voice, deepen it. “It’s unrealistic to believe she would lower herself to do what you suggest.”
He smirked, seemed to remember something which particularly amused him. “You’d be surprised what Virginia — well, GiGi — does willingly,” he said.
“And I’ve spoken to this secretary person—she’s not a member of MENSA.”
“When you call and speak to GiGi, does she ever transfer you to Virginia?”
“Why, no, I usually catch her out of the office...”
“Right, with her only being Virginia for a few hours a day, and that usually being first thing, you would.”
Now she laughed. “You’re telling me Virginia Gerard is playing games...”
“No, she’s still as dry and boring as ever. GiGi, however, plays wonderful games.”
She was going to throttle the dick weasel. She leaned forward and lowered her voice. “My patience is drawing to an end.”
Donahue moved in closer, no quarter given. “Mine, too—Dear.”
Christiana Pavlovski was silent for several moments. “I’d suggest you watch the way you speak to me.”
He smirked. “My apologies,” he said.
“Perhaps I need to speak to Virginia.”
Did the man realize his days here were numbered? If so, he didn’t care. “She’s off for the day. Would you like to speak with GiGi?”
“Yes, that would be superb.” At least she would get to the bottom of this ludicrous situation.
Donahue picked up the phone. “Locate Geege and send her plump little ass into my office.”
Christiana raised her voice. “I don’t care who this woman is, or how stupid she might be, it’s inappropriate...”
“Her ass is both plump and tiny. What I said was apt.”
“Mr. Donahue!”
“Master.”
“Mike, I don’t think...” Wait, did he say master?
“That’s a lie—you think too much. Don’t you agree?”
“What? Have you lost your mind?”
“Peekaboo!”
Christiana turned to see a vapid looking strawberry-blonde woman peering around the edge of the doorway. A good portion of her hair was pulled up into a ponytail atop her head, not unlike a Yorkie’s topknot. Full lips, big blue eyes and a rainbow assortment of cosmetics constituted her face.
“Okay, Geege, no time to play. This is Christiana Pavlovski—your boss. Do you understand?”
“Yes, she’s my boss, and you’re my boss, and sometimes I’m my boss, and every week there’s new bosses, and that excites me!” She spoke as I she was remembering a complicated set of rules and, when she was finished, she gave a wide grin as if waiting for her gold star.
“That’s right. Be a good girl and come in.”
GiGi was five foot six inches of bimbo and four inches of lucite shoes. Her body filled a mini-dress of psychedelic-looking daisies in bright shades of pink, orange, and green. The collar was v-neck and button down, and it picked up the color of the orange flowers. Apparently she took the “button down” term literally, as it certainly wasn’t buttoned up, creating a valley between the twin mountains of her breasts.
She stopped about a yard away from the desk and knelt on the carpet, angling her body to show deference to both of them. Christiana forced herself to stop looking down this woman’s top, but not before GiGi looked up and gave her a big smile, like Julia Roberts after Richard Gere snapped the jewelry case at her.
Oh my God, it can’t be...
She remembered the first time she’d met Virginia.
Her father had sent her on the recruitment trips; unspoken was that he was not only too sick to do so himself, but that he needed to know soon if she had what it took to take over after he was gone. What she’d reported to her father as his scion was that Virginia Gerard would be an asset to the company – she was smart, astute, and driven. Christiana urged him to pursue her as an ideal candidate, even while admitting to herself that she didn’t much care for the young woman.
Underneath the utter politeness was the sense that this woman thought she was too good for her father’s company or the entry level job they were willing to offer. There was no point in telling him this, but he most likely wouldn’t have minded that. It didn’t mean Christiana had to like it. Or her.
The other thing she hadn’t told her father, because it wasn’t relevant and reminded him that she was a daughter and not a son, is what she’d noticed as a woman observing another woman. Virginia didn’t mind being viewed as attractive, providing you also noticed her skills. It was okay to take note of her legs, which were long and shapely, as long as you were aware of the professional length of her skirt. The cut of her suit told Christiana something else as well; Virginia was uncomfortable about her large chest, even to the point of also playing down her tiny waist. If her jacket was more cinched it would have, by contrast, drawn more attention to the feature she wanted to downplay, and so she’d made a decision to obscure something she probably liked a lot about herself in order to hide another feature that embarrassed her.
The other thing she noticed was that Virginia’s make-up was beautifully done, particularly for a job-seeker. Other than eyeliner to play up striking blue eyes that glittered with shrewdness, Christiana would bet that most men would think she wasn’t wearing cosmetics at all. They would use her as an example of a natural beauty, but it was just quite understated – befitting an office environment. Virginia knew, as most women with a little knowledge of make-up would know, that this young woman had selected the neutral lipstick for a reason that went beyond trying to be subtle and into an attempt to camouflage what she saw as a flaw.
Virginia had full lips. The type that made interested male parties feel a little tight in the pants and celebrities paid good money to imitate. But one star who came by the feature naturally, Angelina Jolie, was rarely photographed wearing bright shades of lipstick — most likely because it would look ridiculously over-the-top whorish.
GiGi’s lips were painted a bright pink and slightly parted.
There was no denying that this woman was either Virginia Gerard or her twin sister. Christiana didn’t know what to say, would have fallen down if she wasn’t already still sitting. At last she found her voice.
“What did you do to her?”
“I was explaining that when you interrupted me—that’s a bad habit, Christi. I forgot to show you her ass, you really need to see it—you’ll just want to take a bite out of it.”
She stood up and straightened her spine. “You can clear out your desk later. Get out for now,” she ordered. She waited for the still-smirking man to leave and thought she heard a laugh as the door closed. She looked at the kneeling woman. “Virginia, can you tell me what’s going on? Virginia?”
Large blue eyes gazed up at her. Limpid pools, Christiana had heard eyes described as ‘limpid pools’, but that wasn’t the right term to describe these—vapid pools. There was none of the quick intelligence dancing there that she’d come to associate with Virginia.
“Virginia isn’t here,” said GiGi, “would you like to leave her a massage?”
That was the voice all right—the one who’d taken “massages” before. “No, GiGi, can you tell me about—” What? What was she supposed to say? Ask? “Can you tell me about you and Virginia.”
Christiana’s voice sounded compassionate; indeed, she was truly horrified at the change in Virginia. It wasn’t the whole truth, though. There was the burning curiosity to know what had happened, how a brilliant woman had come to this. And still, there was more. She felt something darker rise up in her at the thought of the proud young woman she’d met that first day kneeling on the floor, barely recognizable.
GiGi blinked a few times rapidly. “Oooo-kay! Noooobody liked Virginia, really. She was really stuck-up and no fun. She had zero people skills. People here, men, were always playing tricks on her, but the money was too good for her to leave, and she didn’t want the bastards to get the better of her. She complained to Mr. Donahue and said she would go to his boss if he didn’t fix things! She had the pushy nerve to tell him she would have his job one day! It made him kinda mad, she could tell, but he told her he would call a meeting with the...” GiGi paused for a long moment, clearly trying to recall. “A meeting with the responsible parties. I don’t know what that means,” she said with a shrug.
“When Virginia came in on Monday she was sent to a board room, but was the only one there. She was so mad: they were playing tricks on her again. She would get even... She would make them all pay, even if she had to go to that stupid cunt Christiana.” It was as if GiGi was a medium channeling a long gone spirit. Her face scrunched up with a memory of an anger that wasn’t her own anymore. The emphasis was in all the right places—that stuuuupid! cunt! Christiana!, but there was something a little off, as if she was nothing more than a good impressionist.
Christiana wondered what she should think about Virginia calling her a stupid cunt. It certainly wasn’t the most pressing matter and lost a certain sting coming from GiGi who she’d just noticed was trying not to stare at Christiana’s legs just as hard as Christiana was trying to avoid GiGi’s cleavage.
“Then Virginia noticed the music playing and the whispering voices that she couldn’t quite understand, not yet. She went to let herself out of the conference room, but it was locked!“ Was there a flicker of real emotions just then? “They’d locked her in. They were playing a trick on her again. She knew it was only a matter of time before they let her out, and she would be hiring an attorney. She picked up the phone, but there was no dial tone, and then she...oh, right...she tried her cell, but the calls wouldn’t go through, and those voices kept talking and whispering to her, and they just would not stop! And she hated those voices so much.
“She sat down at the table and she waited, and waited. She waited so long that she began to understand what the voices wanted. At first, she told off the voices. Sat there and told them that they were sad, no, pathetic, little fratboys and scared little cheerleaders. She could feel the tears coming, and she fought them, because there was no point in crying. They were going to humiliate her if they could, and her tears would be the start of the end. She’d fought all her life to be taken seriously, she was smarter than all of them, and still, every time she spoke, she could feel their eyes on her mouth, on her breasts. Yeah, she knew what the voices wanted.
“The voices were their filthy little minds set free. The price of freedom was a lot higher, a lot more intimate, than an apology.
“The sun moved across the sky and still she waited. They weren’t going to let her out until she gave up, but they didn’t know just how stubborn she was. Her daddy always said, ‘GiGi, you’re just about the most obstinate child ever!’ There was a big problem though—she’d brought in a ginormous cup of coffee and just finished it in the room. Not too brainy for the office brain. She was NOT surprised to find the door to the bathroom locked, too. Virginia was smart though; she understood that if she called herself a filthy little fuckwhore and said it loud enough that at least that door would unlock. She knew what the voices wanted.
“Still, she sat down again and waited—she didn’t want to disgrace herself, but she needed to disgrace herself in order not to disgrace herself. You understand, right? So, Virginia got up, stood as close to the center of the room as she could, and said LOUDLY, ‘I AM a Filthy Little FUCKWHORE!’ She expected something to happen, but she didn’t expect what did happen—she felt the words right in her pussy. She felt them and she liked it, so she said it again, even louder, ‘I am a filthy Little FUCKWHORE!’ This time she fell on her knees. And then she said it again, and she was crying this time... and the next time she said it she stuck her hand up her skirt and rammed her little panties into her fuckwhore cunt, only she didn’t know what had happened to her pantyhose.”
“Oh!” moaned GiGi, and then she giggled when she realized that she’d been mirroring her own story, except Christiana could see that she wasn’t wearing panties.
“What happened next?” Christiana asked as the young woman, the beautiful young woman with the big, slutty pink lips told her story and touched herself. She needed to hear this story to understand and to help her—that was, of course, the only reason she needed to hear it. She only stared at her because she couldn’t believe what she was seeing, and if she got any secret satisfaction out of it, that would remain a secret.
“Does it turn you on, too?”
She cursed herself as her voice came out defensive. “What, no, Virg...GiGi, of course not—what happened is terrible and I’m going to make them all pay! And … and we’re going to make you better.”
“How do you know which me is better?” GiGi giggled again, but it was throatier before, as she moved from her kneeling position and spread her legs wide. She grabbed one of her large breasts and began to knead it, while her other hand rubbed rhythmically at her now exposed pussy.
I can’t watch this woman do this,” Christiana thought. No matter how horrible she’d been. She looked away. “Continue.”
“No, you have to tell me to play with my shaved pussy!”
“P...play with your shaved pussy, GiGi.” Even though she wasn’t looking, she could imagine it.
“Okay! Virginia was waaay stubborn still, so the silly thing made herself stop jilling her snatch, because she knew they were watching, and she’d paid the price! She crawled to the bathroom door and it was unlocked, just like she knew it would be. She knew they were probably watching her there, too, so she made sure to cover herself with her skirt, and she hoped they didn’t know that part of her wanted them to see that—wanting to open her legs wide and fill her fuckhole with her fingers.
“She was so mad. They’d tricked her. Saying those words made her start to change. It wouldn’t happen again! She sat at the table and she tried to think smart people thoughts and ignore the voices, but it was getting so hard to focus, and she was so, so horny. She wanted to use her brain, but her pussy wouldn’t leave her alone, the voices wouldn’t leave her alone, and she was getting hungry, and so she started thinking about food, but even that was really mixed up with sex, with fucking.
“Like, she started to think about the salad she brought for lunch and was just on the other side of the door and how sometimes she wondered if the mean people played with, no, tampered with her food. She remembered this story she’d read about this lady who was controlled by a teenaged girl, and how they went to a restaurant and the woman had to pour out a used condom over the salad.
“And Virginia’s mouth began to water.”
“Did it?” asked Christiana. Of course she felt sorry for GiGi, but “voices” couldn’t make people be something they’re not. She hated herself for it, at least a little, but she was getting the feeling that this babbling idiot couldn’t be fixed – that trying to make her right would fry her remaining circuits. Donahue, damn him, had saved the company a lot of money. Maybe this could be turned to their advantage. Besides, the way lawyers were these days, she’d probably be on the hook too. Why should she suffer for a man her dead father had hired?
“Yes, and she stuck her hand up her skirt again. It was getting dark in the room, and so she thought there was a chance they couldn’t see her, but the idea that they were watching, like you’re watching, sent her over the edge. And she called herself more names as she came. She cried, because she knew she was going to lose, and then she fell asleep and let the voices do the hard work.
“When I looked up later, the lights were on and the salad and a glass of water were on the table. My hand was up my skirt and my fingers were all wrinkly. The salad was normal for the last time ever —you see, they... talked to me later, and I told them. I wanted to tell them.”
“My God!”
“After I ate, I crawled up on the big old table and played with myself—Virginia’s panties were missing—but she wasn’t there so it didn’t matter. I played with my slutty little pussy, and talked with the voices, made them promises, told them how I couldn’t wait to get out. I lied a little because I knew, just knew the door was already unlocked, but I kept playing with myself on the table and coming until I couldn’t come anymore.
“I went to pee and when I came back they were all there around the table, waiting. We talked and I apologized for Virginia, even though what she did was so not my fault. We all knew that we still needed her to do things, think things, but other than that it would just be me, GiGi. Virginia made way too much money for the work she did, but she does think hard. They figured out how much I should really make when they blended Virginia and me. It saved the company oodles of money. I only need money for clothes and make-up, so I make just enough.”
“What about rent, Vi…GiGi?”
“Call me something else—something dirty!”
Christiana tried to get into the spirit of it. It was surprisingly easy. “D...don’t tell me what to do. I’m still your boss, you fucking cunt. Nobody can fix you, can they? You’re toast. You tried to hide those big, fat lips, but no matter how— “
“Oh, mmmm, thank you! God, yeah! I gave up my apartment. Some of the guys, the no fun ones, got fired. The fun ones brought their wives and girlfriends to a special party—a party with the voices. They have to do it so they won’t be mad when their men come home with lipstick rings around their cocks from my dick-sucking-lips. Now I live with them each a week at a time, and they take care of me. Now all the women are whores — I mean, they’re not hiding it no more, because all women are whores anyhow. I’m the best slut though—I know more tricks and will do anything, anything at all, because I was the first one. The ginny pig. That’s why all the men want me to stay with them, why they share me and pass me around, and make me lick their wives and girlfriends. I know things the other sluts don’t know yet. The other ones are learning though—when one of the masters is up for review and he does a good job, he can pick from a list of tricks for his whore. The guys test out all the options when it’s my week to be with them.
GiGi looked at Christiana with her slightly-smarter-than-your-average-lapdog look. Christiana knew she couldn’t hide the fascination and, yes, lust and she felt ashamed of it. What kind of sick bitch would get off on this? She shook her head. “Do you even understand the implications of what you’ve said?”
“Boss-lady, I don’t even understand half the words. You know what else? What’s superfun to do?”
Christiana swallowed hard. “What, cunt? Don’t stop playing with your cunt, whore. I want your slutjuices all over the carpet.” Oh, she could so never tell anyone about this.
“A guy will come in and be new and Mike will tell him how we work, what I am, and the new master has the option of bringing in his slut to hear the voices or have me take care of it. The guy tells her some sad story about me doing something stupid like forgetting to pay the rent and that his new boss wants me to stay with them for a few days, and that he thinks the boss is banging me, because I’m super-dumb and have no skills, but what can he do? Then I take that time to, what’s the word? Seduce her? I’m super good at it.
“Aren’t I?”
“What?” said Christiana.
“You want me and they didn’t even need to do the voices.”
Pavlovski knelt down and whispered. “I don’t know what you mean. You asked me earlier if I would like to leave a message for Virginia. I…I think I would, yes. I think she, you, are truly screwed and that nobody is ever going to fix this mess. How did someone so smart allow something so damned stupid to happen?”
GiGi continued, completely ignoring her companion’s words. “They will, anyhow. They hafta and even I know it’s too big of a deal to let you leave. But you’re so wet for me right now. It’s okay, I’m a pure sextoy, and not good for anything else other than a couple boring hours a day. The fact that you didn’t need the voices just made this more fun. I’m super-wet for you, too.”
Christiana stood up, her heart pounding as she headed for the door she knew would be locked. The voices began and she understood she wouldn’t be going anywhere for a while. She turned to see the smartest woman she’d ever met writhing around on the dirty carpet, violating herself as she moaned...
I am a Filthy Little Fuckwhore.
And she wondered what Mike would have in store for Christi, the spoiled cunt daughter of his mentor, who stole the Big Promotion right out from under him, and decidedly didn’t know her place. She had a suspicion that before the day was over, before the door opened again, there would be two Filthy Little Fuckwhores in the room.
She sat down in a chair and watched GiGi use the stone of her class ring, given to her by one of the most prominent business schools in the country, to rub her clit a little harder.