Lov#02

"On a scale of one to ten, how blatantly obvious is this?"

".... like a 3?"

"Oh please."

"Remember you asked that about that sex toy store that was selling modified Hitachi Magic Wands that turned people into cyborg consumers?"

"Yup, Plug N' Fuck Inc. With the slogan 'Lose Your Mind!' Don't know how the hell the Secretary of State let that one slide through, but -"

"And then there was the male strip club that Paris took you to. -"

"Okay, but 'The Generous Tip' is a great male strip club name, especially since they were wearing scented body oil that literally drove all of us wild. I kinda felt bad giving them a citation but -"

"-and our local 'Hooters' competitor is literally called 'Hotties', and-"

"Okay okay, Rapid Rivers business owners are very literal and know their market. Man, no wonder none of you bat an eye at someone blatantly, and probably involuntarily, transformed and horned up."

Chloe shrugged at that. People in general always get used to the local flavor and Rapid Rivers just happened to be a... special kind of flavorful. That being said, perhaps she was lowballing the storefront they were currently in front of. For starters they had passed an eyebrow threader and the world's most bored teenager watching their phone instead of minding their electronics stand, but every other store front was closed or boarded up in this wing besides the one they stopped at. It wasn't necessarily out of place for Rapid Rivers, there was an upscale dancewear shop near her apartment that was called Sin Sluts Chic and-

You know, Jen might be right and we're the weird ones

. -this store wasn't all that different.

It was big, having taken up the end of the wing with a department store-large floor plan laid out before them. The mannequins were dressed and posed provocatively, a thumping of bass and pop tunes and a weirdly fruity smell emanating from inside. The biggest differences were first 'The Bimbo's Kiss' was stylized above in brilliant neon pink, and if the name didn't tell you what to expect from them the store had decided to go with 'bright enough to burn your eyeballs' branding to really drive the point home.

The second was if that wasn't enough, what Chloe could only assume were custom-made mannequins that littered the windows featuring the kind of curves she could only qualify as 'fetish-sized' for how exaggerated they were.

Speaking of involuntary transformations I hope they're mannequins, another Statuesque incident would be miserable.

Shivering away the sudden memory of stiffness coming across her body, Chloe instead pulled out her phone to call Voodoo Queen.

Expectedly, she was stuck waiting three to four rings before VQ answered. Unexpectedly, Chloe flinched a bit as she pulled her phone back from her ear as the first sound she heard was a roar, followed by some cursing in Creole and an explosion.

"WHAT!? I'm a little busy!"

"Oh....uhh... sorry I- " she held her phone back as the noises became louder, the sound of crackling flame and a very pissed off Voodoo Queen speaking more foreign words, Latin this time. "You know what, I'll call you back." Hanging up before she got a response, Chloe gave her phone a look like it was about to explode.

"Should have called the-"

"- I should have called the comm center I know, I'm doing that right now."

Punching in the numbers, Chloe waited patiently as the seconds ticked by before finally cursing and going straight to Minerva. You're on a team now, you tried to communicate.

"Minerva, status report."

"status: maven, miracle maiden, psychometra currently offline. dr. demi currently in her lab. voodoo queen, flamera currently engaged in combat with an unknown dragon and the manimal gang. tricksterella, ninjette currently assisting in evacuation protocols. Flag: downtown currently warded off; dragon hired manimals to assist in robbing a gold delivery from city central banking; manimals have new transformation tech; slingshot is a bunny atm; do not leave HQ Paris. slingshot, currently inactive last known location downtown. magdalena currently in communication center unconscious. unable to rouse, suspect no foul play. athena, nike currently attending european hero award gala."

Of course. Chloe wished she could properly curse Paris but if that was anyone's fault it was probably Keiko's. Clearing her throat she double-checked the area around them before responding. "Enter flag pinning current location: Possible Bimbette location found. Maven and Miracle Maiden investigating. Need proper support whenever you're done with the Manimals..." Chloe couldn't help herself, not looking forward to entering the bimbo's boudoir but out of all the scenarios the other LoV members were dealing with she could think of at least one other being the lowest on the totem pole. "End current flag, enter new flag available for Athena and Nike only: red carpet or Bimbette? Enjoy the self-fellating superhero speeches. Smirk emoji, smirk emoji, finger guns emoji. End flag."

Jen was giving her an incredulous look as she ended the call, which didn't help Chloe in suppressing a giggle turning into more of a snort which made her laugh more. Jen couldn't stop herself, a slow chuckle joining in with Chloe. The Miracle family in all of its glorious combined fake smiles and designer formalwear always made an appearance at the American Hero Awards, of which she could guess the Euro-version was just as much up its own ass based on Chloe trying to stifle the laughter. If given a choice between the two, both girls would rather deal with whatever nonsense Bimbette or Bimbette-adjacent could throw at them over dealing with the types of people that think saving the world should also come with getting a trophy and acceptance speech.

"So Paris fell asleep at the console?" As team leader she should be more strict but the billionaire heiress was sometimes so out of her league Jen couldn't help but feel pity more than anything.

"Worse, she probably tranced herself." Chloe had a good mental image already of what the scene looked like: Magdalena in full costume sitting cross-legged on one of the chairs in the comms room, eyes blank and drooling as rings and alarms left unanswered blare away into deaf ears. At least she's at HQ, Chloe thought, realizing she had piqued Jen's interest.

"Err, Keiko has been teaching her how to meditate. You know?

Empty Your Mind. Count Down From 3. 2. 1.

Yeah, when I walked in on it, we found out Paris is just a little too good at the 'empty your mind' part." The dam had been close to cracking all day but Jen finally couldn't stop herself from erupting into full-blown laughter. The absurd but entirely in-character response their teammate had to meditation was too much, and Chloe couldn't help but join in, much to the annoyance of the nearby teen glancing up from their phone long enough to glare at them.

Jen wiped away tears, both of them taking deep breaths before releasing a sigh and forcing themselves to get serious again. Looking up at Jennifer, Chloe's mind was already formulating a plan. "Okay, so what we're on the lookout for is a barricade of some kind that feels out of place.

It's not so much the store itself but something about the layout that should seem weird, either because it shouldn't be where it's at or you get a feeling like you shouldn't go somewhere. NOT just because neither of us want to go in there either. Considering she hasn't cropped up at all since B-day, we can probably assume Bimbette is currently held somehow, but otherwise we just have to wait for VQ or 'Ella to be free to help."

Jen nodded, a glance at the store and a familiar feeling prickling her skin. "The good news is this is probably it. Even if it's just passively hanging around I can feel a static in the air that her victims always have around them." Chloe, having never actually had to be in the field against Bimbette, raised an eyebrow for further elaboration. "Tingly skin and the scent of strawberry perfume are always hallmarks of Bimbette. Assuming you don't mind getting breasts bigger than your head, that's usually how us non-magic heroines find her."

"So we should probably split up to cover more ground...."

"Yup...."

The two girls sighed, looking back into the department store and seeing a few peroxide blonde heads bobbing among the aisles. Collecting themselves, the two enter 'The Bimbo's Kiss' to the thumping of heavy bass music and the strong scent of strawberries, nodding to each other as they split off, hoping that the downtown fight ends sooner rather than later before one of them ends up like the bimbo trophy wife they had watched leave the mall earlier...

* * * * *

Oh no. No no nononono!

If you were to remove the current chill running up her spine at this very moment, Lucille Maybach would tell you that she was having the greatest year of her adult life. In fact, she would rate it even higher than the one where her husband of 35 years Patton finally croaked after she had gotten him to sign the new will leaving all of his money to her. His side of the family was pissed, but after dragging it out in court to the point that they could no longer afford a lawyer, she was finally free.

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...