My ns


    I graduated with an essentially useless diploma, so I had to find a way to get by professionally. A


    girl''s got to pay the bills, you know? I eventually ended up getting a low-level secretarial job here.


    And trust me, it was low-level. I am by no means a genius, but doing that work made me feel almost


    insulted. Is this what the world thought of me?


    Is this what they thought I was best qualified for? While I wasn''t much of a student, I was very


    ambitious, and after a month or so of this work, I needed more. And I knew just how to do it.


    To put it bluntly, I used my many talents to grease a few poles, and coincidentally, I was promoted.


    What a shocker!


    I stayed as a secretary, but I worked for different managers. Slightly more important managers. And


    slowly, this process continued. My hot ass kept climbing up the corporatedder. When I got bored


    or saw an opportunity, I sucked another dick, got another job, and added a few grand to my sry.


    It was a pretty sweet arrangement. The work was dull, for sure, and I could do it just fine. But the


    real game was the corporate game, that maneuvering up the corporate chain. While I wasn''t much


    of a worker bee, I was very good at that other game. The corporate game. The game of business. I


    felt like I had aplete understanding of how business was done, but I hadn''t had the full


    opportunity to show off my skills.


    Business wasn''t about honorable negotiations. Real business was yed dirty. I had no illusions


    about that. No ideals. I knew what motivated people deep down, and I yed on that to great


    sess. Business was all about sex, and in that sense, my body was built for business. My rise


    was equally as meteoric as Randy''s, but not nearly as respectable. He worked in the boardroom, I


    worked between the sheets.


    But unfortunately, this kind of thing could only get me so far. My tricks and flirting made mincemeat


    of the low-level management, but the upper-level guys weren''t nearly so easy to fool. They were


    obviously a bit more cautious and wary of intrepid little schemers like me. Plus, word had gotten out


    on me. I don''t know how it got out, I''m guessing one of my old bosses aired my dirtyundry.


    Content (C) N?v/elDra/ma.Org.


    But then again, it probably didn''t take a rocket scientist to figure me out. No matter how progressive


    some people im to be, when they take a look at a woman with a body like mine rising up the


    corporatedder, they make certain assumptions. In my case, they happened to be true.


    I was far from the girl next door. I wasn''t the innocent sunny type. I have been told Ie across as


    bitchy and that I have a resting bitch-face. My lips were plump and curved into a natural sneer. I''ve


    been told my eyes seemedbative, as if I was spoiling for a fight. I wasn''t afraid to speak my


    mind, and I had a bit of a dirty mouth. I could swear with the best of them, and I had a short temper.


    It was hard for me to contain my true feelings about people, and I was often the center of office


    gossip, some of it true, some made up.


    If I wasn''t good at what I did, there would literally be no good reason to keep me around. But I was


    good.


    I was very good.


    It certainly didn''t hurt that I was drop-dead sexy as well.


    I was slim and fit, but not overly so. I wanted to make sure I had curves in all the right ces. And I


    definitely seeded there. I had firm, thin legs, and I always wore high-heels to showcase them.


    They also highlighted my round, juicy, heart-shaped ass. I had a great ass, and I worked very hard


    for it. It was firm, round, and with just the right amount of jiggle. I had learned how to walk to best


    showcase it, and I made it a point to wear slim, figure hugging clothing, just to make sure that all


    eyes were on me. I wanted to make sure that my ass was a topic of office conversation every time,


    and I''m pretty confident my tight, slim skirts got the job done.


    My upper half held up its end of the bargain. I had superb breasts, a pair of round, smooth, juicy


    EE''s, capped with perfectly-sized, hard, rubbery nipples. I always found a way to show my tits off,


    even at work, packing them in to tight tops, testing the limits of decency at times. I had been given a


    few warnings about showing a bit too much cleavage, so I was forced to cover up at times, but once


    I would get promoted and rise up thedder, those buttons on my tops would get disappeared


    immediately, until I was warned again.


    I was aplete package. My hot body, poured into sexy business clothes, which I spent a sizable


    part of my sry on, by the way. My shiny, brte hair was chopped stylishly just past my


    shoulders, and my make-up was always immacte. I was the perfect embodiment of a corporate


    slut.


    This fact eventually became apparent to the higher-ups. It probably didn''t help that I vigorously


    posted pictures online of me at the club, partying and drinking, grinding up all on hot guys, and


    some hot chicks as well. Word got out on me and peoplepared notes to the point where it


    became well known exactly how I ended up in this position, an assistant to an upper-middle


    manager. There was nothing concrete enough to fire me, but it became clear after a while that I had


    hit the ceiling, that they weren''t gonna let a woman like me rise any higher on thedder.


    I was the exact type of person thispany didn''t need to get to the top.


    But I wasn''t gonna let that stop me from achieving what I want. It would only make my sess


    sweeter.