Lesbian Female / 39
Too Old To Make It, The Doors Opened, Be His Whore And Get Promoted
As a self supporting 37 year old lesbian account manager, I found myself in a head to head with a 50 year old CFO type 'putting me in my place'. Every woman I know has dealt with men like him, and my feminist fangs and claws came loose. He stood over me 'listen honey', his finger in my face 'when you grow up'. I couldn't stand up, my legs didn't work, I had to sit and take it.
He came to my office 'sweety, sorry I had to come down on you, your mouth gets ahead of your better judgement, next time take a deep breath, you might learn something'. He picked on me, put me in choices which were no win situations, in mixed meetings he called me honey, sweety. He sent me to a two week communications forum. He gave me hints on my clothes hair and makeup. Nothing seemed to help, I had enough of his paternalistic attitude. I quit, he told me I didn't have permission to quit and get my ass back to my workstation.
I went home and faced my reality.
A year later, dressed to his liking, I was attending the executive sales meetings. I learned quickly no one gave a shit about my lifestyle, and he only cared about my performance, and how I bent over for him. I graduated from over the back of the couch to all nite in bed with him. Sweety, honey, you name it, I answered to all of it. It's not that he 'broke' me, it's because the mountain won't come to Mohammed, Mohammed goes to the mountain. I had a no win set of choices, stand hard on my principles, and rot away in the dark in the basement, or suck his cock and bend over and get promoted.
We're all whores, it's about whose whore are you. I guess he can't tell me to grow up anymore.
He came to my office 'sweety, sorry I had to come down on you, your mouth gets ahead of your better judgement, next time take a deep breath, you might learn something'. He picked on me, put me in choices which were no win situations, in mixed meetings he called me honey, sweety. He sent me to a two week communications forum. He gave me hints on my clothes hair and makeup. Nothing seemed to help, I had enough of his paternalistic attitude. I quit, he told me I didn't have permission to quit and get my ass back to my workstation.
I went home and faced my reality.
A year later, dressed to his liking, I was attending the executive sales meetings. I learned quickly no one gave a shit about my lifestyle, and he only cared about my performance, and how I bent over for him. I graduated from over the back of the couch to all nite in bed with him. Sweety, honey, you name it, I answered to all of it. It's not that he 'broke' me, it's because the mountain won't come to Mohammed, Mohammed goes to the mountain. I had a no win set of choices, stand hard on my principles, and rot away in the dark in the basement, or suck his cock and bend over and get promoted.
We're all whores, it's about whose whore are you. I guess he can't tell me to grow up anymore.
- That's Juicy! 15
- Remove It! 3
