Off the wagon

Ms. Higglebottom had been on the wagon five years. And for five years she had been a tight-lipped hard-ass to any employee, intern, or assistant unfortunate enough to find themselves under her boot. That’s why the company liked her. She was ruthless. She cut costs, raised prices, and turned profits.

Everyone knew this, but that didn’t stop them from being surprised that she reduced the end-of-quarter bonuses. And although nearly all of them resented her for it to some degree, they knew better than to confront her on it. The great Karen Higglebottom had spoken, and there was nothing to be done about it. Unless, of course, you were Sarah. Ms. Higglebottom’s assistant, she was the only one close enough to her boss to attempt any kind of ****. And she knew the perfect time to strike back.

In addition to the bonuses, the office also held an end-of quarter party. It was just a little gathering where they drank punch and mingled for an hour or two and then went back to their miserable lives. Needless to say, Ms. Higglebottom did not feel very popular as she felt all the men and women subtly glaring daggers at her as she arrived. Everyone except Sarah, who was smiling as she walked over with two cups of punch.

“Here you go Ms. Higglebottom,” she said, handing her a cup.

“Thank you Sarah.”

Sarah held her breath as she watched Ms. Higglebottom take the first sip. She had spent all afternoon trying to find just the right amount of booze to put in without being able to taste it. But when Ms. Higglebottom made a face and looked down at the drink, Sarah's heart skipped a beat. 'This is it, I'm fired,' she thought to herself.

"Sarah, does the punch taste a little funny to you?" her boss asked.

"Um, yeah, I got the cheap stuff," Sarah replied. "I didn't want to overspend. Ya know?"

Ms. Higglebottom nodded. "Good call," she said.

Sarah breathed a sigh of relief as her boss walked away. She tasted something was off but didn't recognize what it was. Now she only had to sit back and watch the fireworks.

Ms. Higglebottom took a few more sips as she asked her employees about their families and hobbies (that she knew of). She was never rude, but she wasn't exactly friendly either. Everybody knew who the boss was here, even now. And, of course, nobody dared to mention the shortened bonus. After a while she noticed that she was starting to feel... Drunk? No, that couldn't be it. She refused to believe it purely on the grounds that she was too proud of her sobriety streak to even consider that she had ingested any ****.

While she was always open about her past problems with addiction (in fact she would often boast about her sobriety like a motivational speaker) she never mentioned the other reason she quit drinking. And that was that **** made her very horny. Back in her champion drinking days she was quite wild, and those few faint drops of booze on her lips was starting to awaken the beast within. She subconsciously downed the whole cup and before she could even ask her assistant had placed another in her hand.

'I'm just a little stressed, that's all,' she told herself. 'I've been working so hard lately, and I never get any praise from these nitwits. I just need to relax.'

Then she stepped away, after her collar was starting to feel a little tight. 'It won't matter too much if I undo just one button, right?' she thinks to herself. But she ended up undoing two, thinking nothing of it. These weren't working ours anyway. The point was to relax and have a good time. She went back to mingling with everyone, this time a little warmer and friendlier, bordering on flirtatious.

She talked with Matt and Freddie, two bastards from advertising.

"Hey boss, you look a little tired," said Matt. "You look a little tired."

Fred agreed with his coworker, but they both knew she would be too proud to agree.

“Nice try boys, but I’m not leaving you unsupervised,” she said. But didn’t say this in her usual stern tone. Instead she was almost playful, aimlessly waving a finger in their direction.

The two men smiled at each other as she sauntered away. They liked this new boss much better than the old one, and they wished that this was the one they received orders from each day.

Meanwhile, Ms. Higglebottom's hand absentmindedly drifted down and started playing with her shirt, something she used to do to flirt with men in college. She accidentally ended up undoing another button, revealing part of her bra.

'This punch is not too bad,' she thinks to herself. She keeps taking more and more sips, getting tipsier each time. And each time she runs out, Sarah is always shoving a new one in her hand. It's slowly becoming obvious to everyone around that she is drunk, or **** in some way.

"Come on,” she says swaying back and forth on her heels. “Let’s get the party started! Who wants to dance?"

A playlist of pop songs had been put together and were plugged into a speaker. Of course, all the songs were PG and had to be approved beforehand. Still, they held a certain groove to them, and Ms. Higglebottom desperately wanted to dance. However, it seemed the other's did not. And so they all watched as she started shimmying. Shimming turned into bumping, bumping turned into grinding, and grinding turned into slutty stripper moves. Even though it had been many years, she had not lost her touch one bit. She just let instinct and muscle memory take over. Which, unfortunately for her, and fortunately for everyone else enjoying the show, also involved taking off her clothes.

It wasn't long before she found herself on top of one of the desks, having undone the rest of her buttons and done away with the shirt and jack altogether. One side of her bra was still handing on, barely, which still left one and a half breasts exposed. Soon everyone stopped being shocked and started enjoying what their were seeing.

“Turn it up!” she says. “I can barely hear it.”

Someone quickly adds some songs that weren’t approved. Britney Spears’ “Womanizer.”

By now somebody had added a few more songs to the playlist that weren't permitted before. And Ms. Higglebottom was pushing her skirt down to her ankles to Britney Spears' "Womanizer." Down to her panties, she continued to strut her stuff. She felt like a cross between a runway model and a stripper. She finished off her routine by rolling onto her back and kicking the panties off.

There was a thunderous round of applause as she took a drunken bow, dressed only in heels. She tried to get down, but staggered a little.

"Here, let me help you," Sarah said, putting her phone away.

"Thank you Sarah. Say, do we have any more punch?"

"I think you've had enough Ms. Higglebottom."

"Oh please, call me Mary. You've earned it." She leaned in so close that for a moment Sarah thought her boss was going to kiss her. Instead she leaned whispered, "Or you could just call me what the boys in college called me."

What's that?

Mary giggled and said, "Wigglebottom."

Sarah smiled as she watched her naked, drunken boss laugh uncontrollably.

"Don't tell anybody I told you that," Ms. Higglebottom said.

Sarah smiled and walked away again, making sure to tell everybody

-

As Mary looked around the room, she was glad to find that everyone was enjoying themselves, and that her little routine had livened the party. In her ****-clouded mind, she told herself, ‘it’s good to cut loose every once and a while.’

But not everyone was so carefree. She spotted one man, Greg was his name, with an unhappy look on his face. In her mind, she confidently sauntered over to him, but in reality she nearly stumbled with each step, and people started to giggle at her, but she didn’t seem to notice.

When she arrived, she noticed Greg trying not to stare at her tits.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, in a fake pouty voice. “Is Greggy-weggy a little sad?”

“It’s nothing, Ms. Higglebottom,” he said.

“Oh come on,” she said, moving closer, which she could see made it more difficult from him not to stare and it amused her. “You can tell me.”

Reluctantly, he said, “Well, me and my family were looking forward to a nice vacation this year. Me and my wife had finally promised to take our daughter to Disney World.”

“Oh, congratulations!” Mary said. “That sounds wonderful!” As she said this, her voice went high pitched like a dumb bimbo, and she bounced a little, and her breasts jiggled a little when she did so.

“Yes, well, you see,” he told her, once again trying to be polite and avert his gaze, but failing completely. “We were really counting on that bonus.”

‘Bonus, bonus,’ Mary thought to herself. ‘That sounds familiar, but I can’t quite remember why. What was it about a bonus?’

“You know, the one you cut this year?” he added.

Realizing, remembering what she had done, she made and “O” face of surprise. That’s right! She had cut the bonuses this year! And now this poor man, who worked very hard can’t even keep his promise to his daughter!

Now, the old Mary would have told him that it was her call to cut the bonus, remind him that it was within her rights to due so, and tell him that life is full of disappointment and his daughter should learn to get used to it.

But this was the new Mary, and she was thinking to herself, ‘I wish there was something I could do, something I could give him, to make up for it. Something that he wants. What does he want?’

Then she caught him not-so-subtly taking a peek at her chest again. ‘Oh, that’s it!’ she thought to herself. ‘He wants me.’

“You can *hiccup* feel me up if you want,”she said.

His eyes went wide.

“I’m serious,” she said. “Go on. Touch me anywhere you want.”

She reached out and grabbed his hand and placed it on her breast.

“Give it a squeeze,” she said.

He did. And after working up some confidence, he grabbed her other breast. She squeezed them and played with them, right ther, in the middle of the office.

As he lightly pinched her nipples, another male employee called out: “Hey, Wigglebottom, nice rack!”

And then another one called out: “I’m next!”

‘Did he just call me Wigglebottom?’ she thought to herself. The question ran through her mind, but she couldn’t process it. She could only focus on her hands as they ran over he body. He was now standing at her side, with one hand still on her breast, and another was reaching down and gripping her ass.

It felt good. It reminded her of the boys who felt her up in college. And then, when another man took his place, she finally did notice something. She was starting to get…wet?

“Not bad,” the man said. “Anybody else want a turn?”

“I might cop a feel too,” a female voice said.

She remembered why she used to do this, just how hot it made her. She hoped that none of the men, or women, were bold enough to feel down there. But the image of them fingering her in the middle of the office, only turned her on more.

It was at that point that the room started to spin and she wouldn’t remember anything after that.

The next morning, she woke up extremely hungover to the sound of her phone ringing. She reached over and picked it up.

“Yes,” she said, her face half-buried in a pillow.

“Head branch. Board room. Now,” was all the man said, before she heard the click and knew he had hung up.

After about five minutes of vomiting in the toilet, she sluggishly dressed herself and grabbed her keys.

Half and hour later, she pulled into the parking garage, took the elevator up, and found herself in a large room without a dozen men in suits waiting for her. They told her to take a seat.

Without asking her anything, they turned on the overhead projector and showed her a series of photos they found on the internet. They were of her dancing, stripping, being groped. Half of it she didn’t even remember. Then they showed her a video. In it, she was back on the table, still in nothing but her heels. But this time she was twerking to Iggy Azaelia’s “Mo Bounce”, while the whole room chanted “Wigglebottom” at her. The phone camera caught the look on her face and it was clear she enjoying herself.

After the slideshow presentation was over, Mary wanted to bury her head in her arms. All of that work, all those years she spent, just to throw it all away in one evening. The only bright side was that she didn’t take the guys into the bathroom and blow them like she did in college.

“Am I fired?”she said. She felt stupid asking the question, as if the answer wasn’t obvious. But to her surprise, they said no.

“Actually,” they told her, “we’d like to make you a proposition. You see, we like tough women, like yourself. Women who want to get the job done, who aren’t afraid to be unpopular among their peers. Needless to say, we think you fit this description in spades. Most people would have caved and given their employees their bonuses back, but instead you bribed them with your body. This way, the company keeps its money and the employees get a little extra for their work. Everybody’s happy. We thought this was a brilliant strategy, and we were all very impressed with how far you were willing to go to make it happen."

“So what’s the proposal?” Ms. Higglebottom asked.

“We’ve been looking to ‘tighten the belt’ around her for some time, but we’ve never managed to sell it to people without risking a strike. We’d like you to keep making your employees happy. Keep them distracted. By any means necessary. And it goes without saying that if you succeed in this, some of the money saved will in turn go towards a healthy raise for yourself. But we would love to hear your thoughts on the matter. Please, tell us, what’s going through your mind right now?”

She looked around and saw that they were all quite serious. Sitting back in her chair, she sighed and said:

“I’m thinking I could really use a drink.”