This Carries A Lot Of What The Bimbo Trope Is For Me... The Inadvertent Flash - A Sort Of 'innocent'

She was (once) an executive damnit, not some beach whore, how exactly was she supposed to get any work done dressed like this (she isn’t she’s the office joke) and how the hell did they expect her to get to work on time dressed like this? (They didn’t, her being consistently late was something to punish her over) They’d taken away her car and moved her into an apartment 6 blocks from the office (long enough so she’d get stares, wolf whistles and proposition’s, but short enough so taking the bus was pointless), she was constantly misstepping in her sky high heels with her boobs constantly threatening to spill out of her top.

And why the fuck did they make her take a Breathalyzer test every single morning and reprimand her (in a formal meeting) for not being drunk enough. (they wanted her work bad, and her ability to make good decisions reduced).

She thought about quiting, she really did. The problem was she owed a mountain of debt to the company that was increasing far quicker than she could even make the interest payments.

Amongst the things they were charging her for was:

- the down payment on the apartment

- the mortgage

-rent (though she was technically the landlord they’d forced her to sublet the apartment to herself meaning the $1200 a month she charged for the place was constantly going in and out of her bank account making it impossible for her to touch it)

- landlord services (they maintained the property and preformed room checks to ensure the tenant was keeping the property in good condition, failing in the check would result in a fine)

- A Cable package that only gave her access to fashion, shopping, gossip and porn channels (anything that might give her information on the wider world was banned, no news for her)

- the plastic surgery they’d recomended she get

- Theft prevention package (Security cameras in every room live streaming to the office but also running a program that recorded a highlight reel of all of her sexual exploits)

- Life insurance (The recipient not her family but the holder of the debt her company)

They gave several company credit cards, all with exorbitant interest rates (36% to 48%) for her to make all of her purchases on (only at company approved stores) which charged her an insane amount of money for the most basic of things ($12 for a a half Gallon of milk).

Worse still whilst the debt she owed on the credit cards had to be paid in US Dollars the credit cards automatically converted into Company scrip, vouchers only valid at the approved stores, if she went to anywhere not on the list her cards would always be declined.

The result being she was forced to eat, drink, read, watch and wear what they wanted, they had complete control over her money and she was never going to pay them back.

She was effectively an Indentured servant for the company with no hope of escape.

#Exec2Sec  #Social Demotion  #Submission  #Humiliation  #Stacking the Deck

I really love the 'too much eyeliner' look. Not featured here, but when its coupled with a vacant stare, it's mind blowing. And best of all, it always adds just a little more trashiness to an appearance. All good things.

Brilliant once again! How about: phrase, overqualified, patronise?

“Good evening, Sir, and welcome to the Casbah.”

Rayleen had to repeat that phrase more than a hundred times every night, standing in the entrance to the Casbah in a white dress with a plunging neckline.  Projecting cheer and welcome with every greeting instead of boredom and fatigue was not a great challenge to a woman who had won a Best Supporting Actress Oscar for The Salt Flats.

“Thank you for coming, Gentlemen,” she told a departing group.   “We enjoyed your company.”

One of them, a silver-haired gentleman in an evening suit that was out of style though not quite a “vintage” item paused.

“Did you really?”

“Of course, Sir.”

After all, you spent money as though it were water while you were here.

“Well,” he said, chucking her under the chin like a child, “I appreciate the Casbah, especially its pretty little greeter.”

“Thank you, Sir,” Rayleen said, making sure her smile didn’t show the slightest sound of how much she loathed that sort of patronising talk.

A new desktop background for those girls who need it. It is a little tame, however. Would love to know if anyone has something better for the bimbos in their life.

This is just incredible - the idea of convincing everyone else that one is a bimbo and forcing one to be treated that way without any changes is a novel and perfectly deviant method of protagonist entrapment! Stellar stuff!

The hottest part of this, for me, is the title! How excellent is the notion that an unwitting bimbo is now described as having 'The Hooters Girl Look'? There's possibly a story in that somewhere!

Exceptional, as always! How about: giggle, dumber, memo?

When she opened her in-house message account, there was one item marked Highest Priority:

Meredith:  In reply to your query of yesterday, the answer is that yes, the requirement that you giggle periodically during any conversation you carry out at work is indeed intended to make you seem “dumber” than you really are.  If you keep going out of your way to show off the fact that you are smarter than our CEO (and just between the two of us, you are – you’re also smarter than me, and probably everyone else on the Board of Directors), you damage the reputation of the company.  So from now on, yes, giggle at least once every two minutes, regardless of the subject matter or with whom you are conversing.

In a related matter, it is high time you chose a work-appropriate nickname for yourself.  I can’t very well call your peers “Lulu” and “Babs” and “Deedee” and then call you “Meredith,” now can I?  I suggest you try one of these: Merry, Mare, Mimi or Edie.

Choose one, or have it chosen for you.

–  Bob

Ok! That was unexpected. But scary creative! Bleach, introductions, elocution.

Since the New Order came to town, I have lost my job, my credentials, my house and my savings.  Now I have to lose my chestnut hair, which I prized because it gave me a link to my mother and grandmother that I could never lose – until I did.  But my boss says he’s only going to hire blondes, so goodbye, Mom, goodbye, Oma.

I also have to lose my accent and my vocabulary, and have to listen to voice recordings of an actress named Arleen Sorkin, because my boss is crazy about “Harley Quinn”, whatever that is.

And now my boss is telling me that part of my job is going to involve his “introducing” me to some of his clients.  I’m not clear why he seems to think this is going to be some kind of big deal – I mean, of course I’m going to be introduced to his clients, how could I not, if I’m going to be working for him?