The looks were what did it.
They were the usual sort of sneering, lip-curling, contemptuous looks of disgust and annoyance that Barbie always got when she was in a new town. She wasn't wearing a lot - which made people twitchy - but they didn't realise that she was making a huge effort in wearing anything all. It was always the same though, and she supposed she got by well enough, but it was one of the two things she'd inherited from her dad.
The other thing from her dad was slowly engorging, emitting pheromones as the reflected disapproval stoked her libido - and that libido came straight from her mom; a mother that had a reputation as a depraved, base, animalistic slut. A well deserved reputation. And the proverbial apple hadn't fallen very far from the wanton tree.
But Barbie was her own woman. Where her mother was lush and sensual and inviting and sultry, Barbie was a thoroughbred: tall, strong and blazing hot, with a kind of perky bubble-butt gym-addict glamour that was supplemented by all the tricks of a modern bimbo. Huge fake tits. Pumped up pouting lips. Long nails, glossy and bright. Long black hair tied back. Thorough depilation. The makeup.
And none of it was for men. It didn't need to be. But it reminded people just what kind of girl they were... well, it was Barbie's way of saying 'fuck you' without words.
The soccer mom blonde queued up in front of her sniffed the air and stiffened a little; Barbie could see her fight the urge to look behind her and check out what was making that scent. The woman new Barbie was there - had made her displeasure obvious when Barbie had walked in. That had earned the woman a bump in the back from Barbie's twin beach balls. There had been the gasps, and the frosty look Barbie had gotten back in return spoke very clearly of "queen bee" status, real or imagined, in the community.
The barista called the blonde forward with a warm, even slightly obsequious smile. Barbie stepped forward with her, so that when the woman reached into her purse, her hand brushed into Barbie's huge, cantilevered chest, nearly whipping off the string bikini that barely covered Barbie's straining nipples.
The soccer mom looked disgusted, shocked even, and the barista simply pursed her lips and looked away in disapproval, but Barbie just watched and waited - her arousal was growing, pressing against the front of her tiny skirt. She watched as, after paying, the blonde absently brought the hand that had touched Barbie up to her nose and inhaled deeply.
When the blonde shot Barbie another look it was less hostile, the pupils wider... needier.
Barbie waited for her to be served and then ordered her own drink, before carefully dropping her handbag over her crotch and retrieving her drink to find a place to sit down.
She was flicking through her phone when the light changed and she knew the dance had started. By now several other women were looking at her too, her scent doing its thing, and most of the men were gone, or going.
It was the blonde.
"Hi babe!" Barbie trilled, enjoying herself.
"Uh... hi?" The woman had no idea why she was there, but it wasn't magic, it was the other thing.
"I'm Barbie, and I'm new in town! What's your name?"
"Sandy. Sandra, really..."
Barbie couldn't help it, "Is that Sandi? With an 'I' at the end?" She batted her long dark lashes - exuding innocent vapidity.
The blonde soccer mom looked briefly irritated, overcoming her sense of pheromone-dazed lust to briefly try and assert herself again.
"No! It's not. There's a Y. And- and you're dressed completely inappropriately, Barbie. A gir-, uh, a woman of your age should know better! I mean, what example are you setting for the children... and any men around you might get the wrong idea!"
A couple of the more prudish heads around nodded at this, shooting Sandy approving, subservient glances and Barbie quickly noted them for later - but she just smiled back sunnily.
"Aw gee, Sandi... it's a nice hot day out there and I don't want to get all hot and sweaty! Besides, how many guys can you see around here? I can't see any."
Barbie new she was glowing with a subtle sheen of light perspiration and expensive skin cream on her bronzed, sculpted flesh, but she decided not to overcomplicate things.
Sandy looked around, and some of the others did too. There were no men around. At all. Barbie smirked a little at this, but it quickly disappeared into innocence as they looked at her again.
"There are no guys here, no kids, and yet you're telling me off for wearing my favourite clothes," she lied (they were her only clothes), "and being really mean. Like, this is just how I like to look, Sandi... I'm not hurting anyone."
There were nods from the less prudish women about, the people who didn't care for their self-appointed spokesperson, and Sandy deflated a little. Then she caught one of the women by her staring at Barbie's straining tits and licking her lips. Sandy's eyes immediately went back to Barbie's, then back to Barbie's tits.
Barbie just smiled placidly.
"Gee Sandi, you see anything you like?"
"Uh? No! Of course not!"
Barbie pouted prettily and tilted her head.
"Well then maybe you should step aside and give that spot up to someone who does?"