"Silence, tiny."

“You know,” says Janet, Christina Hendricks-esque manager of your evil office in Hell, “some days, Sitri, you’re not so bad.”

“Yeah,” grumbles Florence, your head of research. “Some days.”

“How’s it going down here, girls?” You haven’t dropped by in a few weeks, and you have a long-standing decree that in your absence, all intrafeminine office hierarchies are to be organised by breast size. Janet, very much a D, has no problem with this. Florence, a slender A, is not entirely on board.

“Boss, she’s abusing her power! You have to stop her! She’s a monster! She’s…”

“Silence, tiny,” says Janet, grabbing her black silky hair and giving it a tug. Florence yelps and squirms away. She’s wearing a pencil skirt, stockings, heels and nothing above the waist, topless for all the secretaries, middle managers, incubi and countless random passers-through to gawk at. The whole office can see how much flatter she is than Janet. “Yes, it’s going great, boss. Your evil plans for Hell domination are all in order. Just need to decide which of your many enemies to attack first.”

“Excellent. And what about the office girls? How’s morale?”

“Mostly good.” Janet smiles as she surveys the ranks of the open-plan office, full of lady typists and handsome devilish men in pinstripe suits gossiping and smoking cigarettes. Most of the girls have smiles on their faces. About one in every five has a different expression.

The A-cup girls are all topless, dressed like Florence in pencil skirts. Their small but adorable titties are presented for the room’s delectation, in every color from marshmallow-pink to chocolate-brown. They’re not allowed to cover up. The other girls are all gossiping about how flat they are, making cruel comments to the handsome men just loud enough for them to hear.

“Boss! She’s torturing my people!”

“Now, now, Florence. You know the rules. You have small boobs, and Janet has big ones, so that makes Janet better than you. Say it.”

“Uugh… I have small boobs.”

“And?”

“Janet’s more important than me, because her boobs are so much bigger. She’s the best and I’m the worst.”

“Good girl,” you say, ruffling her hair, as she scowls and Janet smirks. “Janet, do you have any further instructions for your small-boobed underlings?”

“Hmm. Well, the tickle-**** racks haven’t been used lately. They might be getting a little rusty. We should run some tests to make sure they’re still in working order.”

“What an excellent idea, Janet. Very big-boobed of you, if you don’t mind me saying so.”

“Thank you, boss. Florence, go round to all the other flatties and tell them to report to the squirteenth floor for some testing. Oh, and invite the rest of the office to come watch.”

“...yes, boss.”