Meet Mr. Bigg!

Without further delay, the sweet receptionist plopped her curvaceous self down into her chair and dialled the number of the man in charge.
"Yes, I have a young woman here, says she has a highly important business offer for you? No, no appointment. Yes, I know you're busy, Mr. Bigg. Yes, Mr. Bigg. Right away, Mr. Bigg."
Every time she spoke, the receptionist gave a little nod, setting her bountiful bosom to a fine jiggle. Finishing up her call she set the phone down with a click and bounced up, her breasts coming to a stop only after a few more seconds had passed.

"Mr. Bigg has agreed to hear your business offer. Please, take the elevator to your left up to the fiftieth floor and head straight through. You can't miss it." With a wave as sweet as the one that greeted Jasmine, the receptionist sent her on her way. The elevator opened immediately, beginning its rapid ascent to the top floor with the push of a button.

"Oh, Feng!" Jasmine fidgeted, "I've never had a meeting with a big suit before!"
"Pray, thou should tell him it is thy first time, and that he should be gentle to thee!" Feng chuckled. "Thou hath a power infallible, girl. It is impossible for thy quest to fail."
Drawing the oh-so-fake resume from her bag, she looked it over. The book's power had already proven itself twice over - the receptionist hadn't even so much as held a second thought about sucking a stranger's dick, let alone stopping for half a second at the thought of spending the rest of her career naked at the front door, offering yet more strangers her fine blowjobs. There was no stopping this power. In fact ...
"Feng, you're right. If I can't fail, then I can most assuredly ask for more!" Jasmine pressed the resume to a wall and summoned the Book's magic quill. A little bit of extra text was worked into the end of the resume, stipulating that Jasmine could start immediately and show up whenever she liked. If she was going to set herself up for life, why even bother restricting herself? After all, while manipulating the behaviour of an entire company sounded like a grand idea, there were times when one would simply have to go and menace the general population.

The elevator made a quite ding, the doors sliding open at the top floor. A polished marble floor decorated with a Bigg & Co. Business rug made quite the statement of the company's wealth, as did the lengthy desk before Jasmine where the secretary sat. A cold looking and stern woman, she barely looked up from her work.
I'm going to have to work on that one, for sure. Jasmine thought to herself. Feng gave an ethereal chuckle, heard only by Jasmine.

"I suppose you're the one here with this ... business proposal?" The secretary sounded like she couldn't have cared less. "Mr. Bigg has asked you to head straight inside. Don't keep him waiting."
Without further ado, Jasmine scampered past her and through the ornate wooden door behind her, blowing a silent raspberry behind her back. Turning to face the office she now entered, she was blown away by the sheer level of opulence. A disgustingly huge rug decorated the floor, several oil paintings assuredly worth far too much coating the walls, and an amazing view of the entire city could be seen through the massive window that made up the whole opposite wall. Sitting at the desk that dominated the majority of the office's space was a short, balding man in a suit. This was definitely Mr. Molto Bigg, judging by the gold rings on his hand, the space-age phone at his ear and the shiny plaque right in front of him that told you his name anyway. Just in case you were in doubt.

"Come in, come in! Take a seat!" The little man waved her over, pointing to a leather seat worth more than Jasmine's entire apartment. Rudely cutting off whoever he was talking to on his phone and throwing the priceless artifact of technology onto his desk as though it disgusted him, Mr. Bigg steepled his fingers and leaned towards Jasmine. Reacting on nerves, she immediately shoved the resume at him.

"H-Here! Very important!" Jasmine stammered. Feng laughed once more.
"Truly, he is such an imposing figure, for you to be so afeared," the dragon whsipered in her ear.
Mr. Bigg read over the shitty resume as though it held the meaning of life, his mouth agape.
"You ... I ... " the man stammered, putting down the sheet of paper and taking off his jewelled reading glasses. "You're just what I need around here! A productivity consultant! I always have the best ideas." Fetching a piece of stationery of his own, he began writing up some details. Pay (incredibly high), working hours (whenever Jasmine felt like it), responsibilities (a vague and nebulous 'increase productivity') and finally the ornate signature of Mr. Bigg himself.
"Great to have you here are Bigg & Co.! We'll get you set up with a nice corner office, proper view of the city, let you get settled, then you can ... do whatever it is a productivity consultant does!" The businessman laughed a fine laugh, as though all his problems had been solved at once.
"'Ey Debra!" he shouted into an intercom. The tired voice of the secretary outside responded. "Debra, get this girl one of those nice corner offices. Erm, what was your name again?"
Jasmine nearly laughed. She had just signed up a million dollar contract and the guy didn't even know her name.
"I'm Jasmine, sir. Dr. Jasmine, in fact." Smiling smugly, Jasmine seemed impressed with her quick wit. It was all falling into place ...

Around fifteen minutes later, Jasmine was sitting down in her own fancy office. A top-of-the-line PC sat on a brand-new desk and the comfiest office chair Jasmine had ever seen was now molding itself to the shape of her butt. The secretary lingered a moment.
"You should be able to find whoever you're looking for yourself. There are contact numbers here, and ... blah blah .. blah .. "
Gosh, why was business so boring? Jasmine wrote a quick note for the secretary and handed it to her.
"... Lunch hour is at-- Oh, what's this? I should loosen up? And also make sure to ... bring myself to orgasm in whatever way I feel necessary at least once an hour? I suppose that it would make me more productive, if you are the one telling me. Erm, thank you." Debra folded up the note and put it in her pocket. Without even thinking about it, one of her hands drifted down into her skirt, and the tell-tale sound of a lady masturbating could be heard as she finished talking. Clearly if she was to be productive, she would have to start straight away ...

Awkwardly walking off, hand still firmly down in her panties, the secretary returned upstairs to her own desk. This was the beginning of a glorious venture. It was time to wreak some havoc.