I'm an engineer and a damn good one. I have just completed a project for a major customer of my company. I got to run the project only after they carried the first guy out with the small matter of a ruptured appendix. I have been promised a permanent Project Manager slot if I get the project completed on time and within budget. Since I do both and also get good reviews by the customer, I'm eagerly looking forward to a promotion to PM and a nice raise in pay!

I strut in to the luxurious office of the big boss and there I meet my new PM. The bitch is only 23 and fresh out of college with an art history major, but she's obviously the best qualified for the job. Say what???

Wonder Girl turns out to be (Big surprise here!) a bitch on wheels. She immediately reorganizes the structure of her new project. I'm given a job slightly above that of the night backup janitor. However, I'll be available to consult with any and all of the new, young, female engineers with whom WG has stocked the project. Translation, when the pussy posse fail to deliver, because of youth and inexperience, I then get to clean up the mess with lots of unpaid overtime.

My resume hits the street, with a thud. No one in the city is interested. There's currently a shortage of experienced engineers with my kind of background. Conclusion, the big boss has put the word on the street that I'm not to get a new job. WG may have problems and I'm to stay and 'help' WG make a success of her new project.

I think long and hard on the problem. The best way to solve a problem is to attack the weak point of the problem with your strength. WG has no political weakness. She's, of course, inexperienced and unqualified, but since management knew that going in, those are strengths, not weaknesses. If WG fucks up, I get the blame. The only area of weakness I see is that WD is about as attractive as an unpainted board fence with a couple of very small boards prominently displayed. This last has some possibilities.

I happen to be acquainted with a lady who calls herself Ravenna.

Ravenna is a recently retired courtesan. She screwed all of the local power structure boys who could afford the very expensive (but apparently well worth it!) trip. She has a nice portfolio of stocks and bonds and some really nice jewelry. Most of Ravenna's jewelry, I stole back during my working my way through college as a burglar days.

Ravenna's problem is that she can't get into polite society in this town. Since she was born here, she doesn't wish to leave town. Since she made a business of having sex with men and she's now retired, she dates girls. WG is a girl.

I go to see Ravenna and explain a problem. No, I don't explain my problem at work, since Ravenna wouldn't be interested. I do explain the problem of WG and her rather dismal appearance. I tell her that WG has the money and needs the looks and some loving. I don't ask Ravenna if she'll help solve the problem. Ravenna has the look of a predator who has just discovered crippled prey in the open.

Over the next few weeks, I notice certain improvements in WG's appearance. She's wearing nice new, stylish clothes, which is something like painting a picture of Marilyn Monroe on a turd. WG is also absent from work a lot, which is really nice for me, since I'm basically running her project, in her absence. A couple of the sweet young things that WG hired check out of the project, since their protector isn't really there and I'm demanding to see what they have accomplished (what they have accomplished, work wise, is absolutely nothing.) I replace the sweet young things with a couple of veteran female engineers who begin to smack some of WG's little darlings upside the head. Since it's cunt on cunt, management can't complain too much and the equal opportunity people have no traction.

Meanwhile, WG is undergoing the treatment, with Ravenna's expert help. From the expression on WG's face, Ravenna has not lost her expertise at eating pussy. From my brief conversations with Ravenna, I also conclude that her tongue is now probably the strongest muscle in WG's body.

WG takes a few weeks off and returns with greatly enhanced appearance. She has had a nose job and supersized her tits. WG also has a hot new wardrobe which proves that the supersize isn't due to padding.

Ravenna has grown tired of WG's hot little girl act and has recruited a new partner for WG. WG and the new partner are getting acquainted by conducting a pussy eating marathon, occasionally interrupted by WG's very occasional trips to work.

The big boss calls me in. He wants to know. "What the hell is going on with WG? She seems to think it's not necessary for her to show up for work."

I tell the big man, "Damn if I know! I also tell him, "I don't know WG socially and even if I did, I couldn't spend the time, as the project I'm effectively running for her has very serious budgetary difficulties."

The big boss is suddenly very interested, as the project that I'm talking about has a long time to go and was funded for a full year.

I tell him, "WG is spending money like the Federal Government and I don't really know where the money is going. However, I can tell you that the money isn't going into the project."

The big boss gets a very suspicious look. He wants to know, "What are you doing about the situation?"

I tell him, "What with the transfers of personnel and the almost total failure of the new girls, that WG hired, to deliver assignments, I have all I can do to just keep the project running at all." I then ask him, "What do you want me to do about the situation?"

The big boss gets a very crafty look and says: "Just keep running the project. Don't talk to anyone else about the budget problems. Do cooperate with the auditors."

I go back to work. I manage to keep up with WG's social life, via Ravenna. I improve the social life of many of the competition's Project Managers with injections of hot, new, young female engineers for their daytime projects. The competition's PMs also are conducting nighttime projects. I'm also conducting some nighttime projects with the enraged wives of the competition's PMs. Life goes on.

The auditors discover that WG has paid for surgical procedures, clothes and social life from the project funds. I mean, her signature was on the requisitions but she claims to have no knowledge of the specifics.

She's later to claim that she never read the requisitions, but just signed them at my request. (I mean, why would I want to buy WG a nose job? Big tits, possibly. A nose job, no way.) The auditors don't buy WG's excuses at all.

The big boss calls me in and tells me he's going to have a long talk with WG.

I lecture, "Well, you have to do what you have to do. I just hope that this isn't personally motivated."

The big boss glares at me. "This is a business problem I'm talking about. Why would I be personally concerned?"

I say blandly, "Well what with the involvement with your daughter and all, I just thought ..."

"MY DAUGHTER!", says the big boss. "What in the hell does my daughter have to do with any of this?"

Putting on my best 'I don't really want to get involved, but since you're my buddy' look, I say, "Well, the gossip says that your daughter and Wonder Girl are engaged in an, ah, ... romantic relationship. Now, I don't know if this is true ..."

The big boss hollers, "ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIP! WHAT IN THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?"

I lean forward and say softly: "I drive past WG's apartment every night on my way home. I have seen WG and your daughter going into WG's apartment. I see your daughter's car there many, many nights. I don't mean to say that there's, ... I mean, there could be a perfectly reasonable explanation."

The big boss snarls, "DAMN IT! I thought we broke her of that sort of thing when we took her out of the women's college. Look, exactly where is WG's apartment?"

I explain where WG's apartment is, including the street address. However, the big boss is too upset to drive and we take my car.

The big boss, with me in tow, arrives at WG's apartment that night. We observe his daughter and WG go into the apartment. I expect the big boss to do something, but not what he does.

The big boss grabs me and we march up to WG's front door. The big boss is a large man. (He was a star tackle on the football team, back in college.) He kicks in the front door, including the safety chain. (You don't see that every day!)

WG and the big boss' daughter are engaged in a charming little 69 on WG's leather couch.