Maryanne Price, corporate shark

Still a couple of years short of thirty, and not more than five years out of business school, from which she graduated with an MBA specialized towards human resources, Maryanne has still managed to rise to become a mid-high level executive in one of the country’s biggest corporations.

This rapid and aggressive climb up the corporate ladder has come to pass thanks not only to her knowledge in her picked field, but also and more importantly due to her willingness to brownnose upwards and send her high-heeled shoes kicking downwards, and her apt use of her killer looks.

Young and attractive to begin with, Maryanne further improves her looks by spending plenty of time either in a gym, whether it’s her own, smaller one or the exclusive athletics club which she pays a large amount of money per year to retain a membership in, and in the solarium, giving her a toned, fit appearance which is not too bulky for her voluptuous frame, which sports wide hips, long legs and a pair of C-cup breasts.
Her appearance is made more striking still by her habits of wearing discreet but stylish make-up which doesn’t clash with her jet-black hair or healthy complexion, and her usage of conservative but sexy business cloths, most often skirt business suits or dresses.

Flirting with her superiors, even to the point of having slept with one or two of them, and teasing those of her underlings which she hasn’t fired in her drive to “slim down” and “optimize” the corporation, though naturally never going as far as sleeping with any of them, Maryanne is a subtle kind of sexual predator who is not picky when it comes to the gender of her partners, but who is only really interested in getting what she’s after and very aggressive in her attempts to get that.

Currently, Maryanne was lounged out on the sofa in the living room of her spacious downtown apartment, an apartment which consisted of two floors and which was decorated with only the most contemporary and pricy of furniture, and art which the more moderate critics approved of (abstracts, not gold-plated shit made by a girlish man dressed in a pink tutu and armed with a fluorescent pink dildo).

The time was now a few hours after the end of office-duty, and Maryanne had since done a little shopping and then travelled home to train, eat and then take a shower. Still dressed in nothing more than a bathrobe and with a towel wrapped around her still-wet hair, Maryanne had planned to watch a film containing information about a smaller company which her corporation was interested in buying, a purchase in which she was now highly involved.

Upon finding out that the film was barely ten minutes long and consisting of nothing more than abstract figures and objects thrown out onto the screen in jumbled fashion, however, Maryanne was fuming with rage, and was just on her way to her phone to call and chew out one of her subordinates, when it rang.

Surprised, Maryanne picked up the phone, and pressed the green button to answer it.