The Replacements - Part Three

My eyes snap wide open as I feel the bindings, the sudden surge of panic waking me up more than enough to break free from the dullness gripping my body. I immediately catch the sight of the Latina, my broker, as she stands in front of me.

For a second I feel my mind skip a beat, watching as she massages someone across from me while feeling her rub my own shoulders. A smirk spreads across her lips as she catches some hint of my confusion, her eyes darting to the right slightly from behind her rose colored glasses. Glancing over I notice a large black slender section of wood, a cheap and flimsy frame for a cheap and flimsy mirror.

My jaw drop and a squeak escaping my lips as I drink in the reflection of a petite but stacked adorable Japanese woman.

 

A set of brown almond shaped eyes stare back at me in the reflection, the bright shade leaving them looking like pools of milk chocolate. Messy and tangled black hair hangs about her face and traipses down to just above her jawline. Her face is adorned with delicate features, from her adorably soft and slender jawline to the slight up-turn in her nose.

She is dressed in what looks like her underwear, the attire doing little to cover her modesty but making for a decent set of pajamas. The white tank top rests with one of the straps hanging from her narrow shoulders, the large head-sized mounds on her chest peeking through more eagerly than they otherwise would. The shelf of taut and pliant flesh immediately draws the eye, a firm set of nubs pressing through the white cotton in the cold night air equally snatching at my attention.

Her slender waist leads to a modest set of hip, a set of cheap and fairly plain black panties nestling tightly over her crotch and between her soft thighs.

The world around me, at least beyond the mirror, rapidly shifts into a blurry mass. The confusion at this is mirrored on the Japanese girl's face, her eyes narrowing along with my own as I try to improve the terrible haze in the distance.

"Oh dear..." the broker coos, patting down her outfit before finding something hooked into her skirt's waistband. "Don't worry, let's just..." she continues, muttering as she slides a set of large and round wire frame glasses onto my face.

"What the..." I wheeze, my throat stinging as my soft and light voice escapes my lips. "...Fuck..." I croak, the word sounding almost wrong coming from such a sweet and cure young woman.

"Seems like the boys did their job" the Latina chuckles, pinching at my cheeks. "Cute as a button aren't you Ms. Brigs" she coos, my pale cheeks growing red from the firm pinch and the embarrassment at the statement.

"Ms.... I thought..." I whine, the words coming out in a bit more of a strained manner as the young woman behind me plays with my face. Each one is sweet and cutesy, the tone almost playful and adorable despite any of my best efforts.

"Oh Em Geeeee..." The broker squeals, slipping back into the ditzy tone from outside. "You are like just the cutest little..."

The sound of a door slamming behind us snaps the broker from her playful daze, the woman lurching up with a start as she pats down her miniskirt and tied top in an attempt to look presentable. From behind us, watching through the reflection of the mirror, a group of older men slowly emerge from a back room.

They're all dressed relatively well, fine tailored suits with silken ties. Rocks glasses with dark brown liquor rest in each of their hands, a refreshment while they waited for things to be sorted. Not a one is younger than forty, most beginning to gray around their side burns or at the roots.

A man in a dark gray pinstripe grabs the mirror as he walks past, shifting it to the side as the eldest of their group crouches down on crackling knees. His weathered face appraises my own, his icy blue eyes darting over me in search of something.

"Uh... who is..." I begin to speak, the group of men soon beaming from ear to ear.

"The Bitch is done!" cries one, his voice slurring a little as though he had drunk just a little too much.

"Ding dong the witch is dead!" cheers the group as a whole, raising their glasses before downing the whole of the strongly scented whiskey. The men quickly devolve into laugh and clapping each other on the back, another producing a bottle of scotch to re-fill the glasses.

"What are... I..." I manage to squeak, my weak and pathetic limb straining in vain against the restrains as I find myself growing nervous. The eldest man, unlike his colleagues, just smiles warmly as a smirk creeps across his face.

"No need to worry" he coos, his leathery skin shifting and sagging with each word. "They're just a little happy to be without the competition" he explains, one of the young of his group passing him a filled glass.

"I don't..." I begin to mutter, looking around as my eyes fall to my restrained wrists. The eldest man give a little nod to the woman behind me, the broker quickly moving to cut my bindings one by one as the man continues.

"You don't know finance?" he chuckles, slowly easing himself up as he winces in pain at his aching joints. "That's why we picked you Mr. Hughes, smart enough to pretend but not the right kind of smart." The man takes a swig from his glass, clamping a hand on the man who poured its shoulder before giving him an approving nod.

As the last of my restraints are severed I feel two of the men pull me to my feet, a bout of laughter over taking them all as they look down at me. My heart races, my neck craning up as I'm forced to look up at the men around me.

"The cunts not so imposing without her heels" chuckles an British man, clicking his glass against his neighbor's. "And I guess without the look."

A large firm hand clamps down onto my shoulder, the same tan leathery skin of the eldest man gripping me tightly. I shiver beneath his grasp, my tiny and exposed body quaking as I whip my head around wildly.

The men begin to laugh harder, only stopping as the eldest clears his throat. They all silence in an instant, dread and fear mixed with admiration causing them to fall in line.

"I do apologize Mr. Hughes, but the men were never a fan of Lindsey is that wasn't plain" he explains, his voice remaining warm and professional. He snaps his fingers, a man in his mid-forties with bright red hair quickly pulling off his jacket and passing it to the man behind me.

The eldest soon drapes the dark blue suit jacket over my shoulders, pulling it around me to warm me up.

"She never understood the... Culture at our office you see, and being a..." the eldest man begins to explain, pausing as he tries to remain diplomatic.

"A frigid cunt?" grumbles the British man under his breath, running a hand through greased back black hair.

"A fucking chin..." another begins to hiss, the man in his late fifties getting cut off by their leader.

"A disruptive force in our workplace" he finally states, sounding rather proud with how he had couched the teams obvious sexism and racism. I go to open my mouth, looking up to him to say something only to be cut short as he continues.

"We're currently consolidating roles in the office, redundancies are going to be happening, and you will take one" he explains as a matter of fact, stating out the steps of what was to come as though they were set in stone. "I have to promote Lin you see, she's just too... well, good at what she does. However, it's not just about the money, I would have to let Charles go in that case and think of how morale would suffer with..." he muses, pausing as he tries to pull himself back on track.

His smirk spreads to a warm smile, giving me a little push as he guides me towards the broker. "I will of course provide Ms. Brigs here a large redundancy package, something to make it look like I want her... you to stay in front of the other partners. However, I don't think you're quite cut out for the industry anymore" he chuckles, the broker pulling me closer to her as the man takes back the jacket.

 

"I'll get her home safe and sound" the broker states, giving the man a nod.

"Good good" he chuckles, sipping at his drink. "If you need a day or two off please feel free to take it, we are aware of how women troubles and that time of the month can get in the way of things" the man states, the group laughing once again after their forced silence.

As the broker pulls me away ad guides me back towards the front, my chest jiggling beneath my tank top, my heart sinks. She's taller than me, even without her heels she's taller than me. My mind races as I try to do some quick math, the moment falling apart as I find myself lining up with the five foot three mark on the tape beside the front door at best.

"Shit..." I wince, stumbling out into the cold night air. My whole body feels gripped by the cold, my warm breath fogging the large lens of my glasses. I feel my nipples grow almost achingly hard, the pert nubs grinding into the rough material of the top.

"Can you take her..." the broker begins to ask, pulling out a phone as she begins to text some unknown partner. Looking around I spot a middle-aged man in his pajamas standing beside a family mini van, the man nodding to he broker as she nudges me towards him. "He'll drive you by Lin's place, the door should be unlocked for you but you might want to lock up once you're..." she begins to state, only pausing as I speak up.

"What am I meant to do when.." I begin to squeak, staggering slowly towards the sea-foam green vehicle. The man opens the back seat, revealing a booster seat and various toys in the back.

"Take the day off?" the broker says, shrugging a little. "Or get on with your life, we're done here so try not to screw anything up too badly too soon" she explains, looking down the road as she waves dismissively to the man and myself.

"Come on dumplin'" the man chuckles, grabbing me and practically tossing me into the back seat. "Need to get home 'fore the missus gets wise to her missin' husband" he continues, a phone buzzing in the front seat as he's sent a message.