Lucille fell for the charming act the older man put up when she was his secretary, and with wedding bells in her ears and a growing belly getting her the ring she deserved Lucille thought they'd have a long happy life together. Right up until the first wrinkle appeared and he began fucking her replacement at work.
He'd probably have made her a replacement for Lucille's current position as well, but it would have been a bad look for the Senator and his PR firm told him as much... with a little guidance from her. It took awhile for Patton to appreciate it, but Lucille was a cunning woman and she hadn't put all that time and effort into becoming his wife and bearing two ungrateful brats (she'd never even seen her grandkids, her own children thought her and their father were "too toxic" to be around) to lose her position to the first slut that opened their legs for Patton.
Being a senator's wife had its benefits, and though their physical relationship had long since grown cold, her own gift of politicking helped build his power base and fortune. She ended up being the one building connections instead of him, and unlike the little trollops he went through like clockwork at least her own trysts helped his career. Those men could appreciate the body and talents of a mature woman, and without her Patton would never have gotten to be the head of the Senate Energy Committee and one of the most powerful men in DC.
Which was why when the dementia had set in, she ensured that his retirement and subsequent solitude be "handled with care by his loved ones", with Lucille making sure all of 'their' friends knew where to find her right before retiring back to her home in Rapid Rivers and opening up "Blessed With Class."
The store had originally been for just little things to help her pass the time, a nice retreat of modest clothing and knick knacks. The tea room she had set up in the back for the normal people of this city, like her and her peers, to meet in central Rapid Rivers and discuss its failings and the possible solutions to deal with all the absurd debauchery its citizens seemed to just obliviously live through. Lucille had made it cozy, the rent was cheap, and the owner of the mall was a well-connected friend, so considering her clothing store moved next to no stock it was never going to shut down.
Actually, really the only business her store had was when her or one of the wives of the men she would meet in the office needed a seamstress, and the girl she had hired to run the store was around to help. Abigail was the child of a local congressman, and while she was as distracted and lazy as the rest of her generation, she was talented enough at the job that Lucille barely bothered her while she conducted her affairs. The girl was lucky enough to have someone like Lucille around after all, and so would the rest of the city as her backroom meetings would ensure her future mayoral victory in the upcoming election.
Lucille couldn't pinpoint the exact time had started going topsy-turvy however. She never really thought about actually trying to run a business, but the space for entertaining friends and potential sponsors to fund her war chest. However it was her own chest that had caused her to realize something was up.
Over the course of the summer, women that spent significant time with her in the backroom had started to change. Lucille has assumed the extra skin being shown was due to the Florida heat, and as a favor for those visiting her she started outfitting the store with more suitable clothing. Hemlines had started to crawl upwards though, and the cleavage that was starting to be shown was getting more visible and bountiful. She was sure young Abigail would quit when she started increasing the workload, constantly needing clothing modified as it started to feel more constricting by the day.
That girl was happiest behind a sewing machine though, and going through her own growth spurt, or perhaps she needed the extra spending money. Things heated up quickly though once her and the girls needed more than just some tailoring to adjust.
Lucille Maybach was in her seventies after all, having lived a full life of sordid backroom deals and negotiations in Washington. No one had ever called her a crone to her face, but she had used her looks to get ahead in life and the mirror always reminded her that that time had passed... until recently. A casual observer would never have guessed her age or shrewd political mind if they saw her today, having just spied Jennifer Powers walking through her store and interrogating her employees.
Lucille had been shocked when she had arisen that first morning discovering her nightgown didn't fit the way it had when she fell asleep that evening, her breasts having regained some of their perkiness and heft age had stolen from her. She wasn't the only one either, women she'd known for decades having shopped at her store looking years younger. It didn't take long for them to discover the source, and soon she had Abigail pumping out as many creations as she physically could.
And like she had drank from the Fountain of Youth, Lucille soon looked like she was in her 30s again, especially once she found out it wasn't just clothes but anything Abigail worked on could be infused with her magic. Moisturizers, cream, sunscreen? She'd be rich... Even with the side-effects of repeated usage.
Her friend's conditions varied, with some like her and Muriel keeping their mental faculties, while Debra was spending her days like she had endless white wine and xanax, a happy dopey smile across her lips. Then there was the libido... with the amount of pool boys she had been going through these past two months, she was beginning to understand why her dear late husband fucked as many hot sluts as he did.
That was the other thing, she wasn't sure if the other girls were that way, but she was raised a good Catholic, definitely loved men, and the erotic sapphic fantasies she was indulging in sometimes reminded her of college. Pleasant too, she couldn't help herself from ogling her customers sometimes, heading to the office so she could watch the cameras and see those little bimbo tramps strutting the aisles... Or even better, new customers finding out why she re-branded herself into Lucy and the store into 'The Bimbo's Kiss' while she pounded her needy snatch with one of the new sex toys they sold...
Lucy had to stop herself from playing with her titties. She'd never been so pornographic verbally or lustful towards women before her body had become built for it. Hell, she had never consumed porn until just a few weeks ago and with how horny her new self was her view of youth work ethic changed overnight. Will power was the only way she got anything done, but that didn't stop her from using her private time to get some new ideas. Like switching her pink blouses to latex, her breasts straining even the custom-made buttons to their limits and delivering a valley of cleavage you could hide a battleship under.
Said battleship could be found below, past her wasp-thin waist and wrapped in a modest pencil skirt... not that there was anything modest about the jiggly rear she could send wobbling with merely a swish of her broodmare hips. She even released a new "Professional Wear" heel for her to wear. Although, perhaps she had changed mentally more than she thought if she considered the 6-inch black platforms she was currently using to boost her height and spy over a display professional.
There were certainly some other signs as she gnawed away worryingly on her thumb, recently glossed lips plumped up invitingly for anyone to use. She hadn't been to church since the more dramatic changes to herself, and that left her wondering if the heroine's arrival was God's way of punishing her. She didn't need to keep up the 'elder stateswoman' persona as her renewed vigor opened up an entire lifetime of politics. Her PR team had told her the new look would be shocking on the national stage, but for Rapid Rivers she was just Tuesday.
No one could argue with results either, and her connections had certainly approved of the new her and the favors she offered. Euphemisms for fucking aside, several patrons were kind enough to donate to her future campaign and in return, she got to show some unruly daughters or frigid wives around the store.
Lucy had decades of experience at manipulation, so even the most mega of bitches would find themselves following her, brushing up against her fabulous wares. While everything in the store was capable of delivering a fun surprise, there were a few items where she maybe hid a little something extra. If an unsuspecting victim grabbed one of her 'Lucy Specials', at worse she now had a very loyal new customer but neither them nor her targets knew what hit them and were very appreciative when she introduced them to their new style with a kiss... and some suggestions on other new items they could purchase. With Daddy or their husbands checking account of course.
The familiar taste of strawberry from her lip-gloss calmed her nerves slightly as she applied it, trying to formulate a plan. She couldn't let anyone discover her profitable side-hustle, or worse her golden goose responsible for all this.
Or Rapunzel? It's better but I'm sexier than Mother Gothel by a mile...
Lucy's lips barely moved when they curled up due to their size, but she never smiled much to begin with. She could keep one heroine occupied, and considering she knew what the Powers family could be like, maybe the girl could do with a little loosening up. Lust tinged Lucy's stare with an evil glean, putting on her best customer service face and began delicately strutting her way towards Jennifer...
