Where else? The mall.

The mall is quiet this early in the morning. Most of the stores are just opening as you arrive, their personnel organizing their stock, sweeping the floors and setting up their cash registers. It gives you the perfect calm, quiet atmosphere with which to observe the patrons and staff, gauge the changes you've made to the world.

Your first stop is to a Starbucks near the mall entrance. As you get in line behind two other customers, you're delighted to realize that the famous coffee chain has transformed into a business populated completely by bikini baristas. All three girls working this morning shift are clad in skimpy new uniforms consisting of green bikini tops with the company logo emblazoned on the left side, a matching pair of ass-hugging short-shorts and a mini half-apron tied to their waists. As you wait, you watch their nubile bodies scurry around behind the counter, titties bouncing unabashedly with every movement. Some logistical genius has also placed most of the supplies on lower shelves and you're periodically greeted the shapely asses pointed directly at you as the bend over to grab whatever item is needed for the drinks that they're preparing. You've never been much of a coffee drinker, but this new business model may just turn you into a convert.

A short wait in line later and you're placing your order with one of the cute, scantily-clad baristas, who smiles and thrusts her chest out as she takes your order. Your eyes follow her as she gathers the needed supplies, her tits bouncing freely as she moves from one station to the next and her ass wiggling a little more than necessary. She must enjoy being the center of attention because as she hands you your coffee, you notice two pokies clearly beneath the fabric of her bikini. Unfortunately, she has more customers to take care of and has to leave before you can do more than thank her for her service.

Moving on, you decide to enter one of the clothing stores. The changes within aren't drastic, with a similar layout and design as what was here previously, but a closer examination shows the subtler changes that you've caused. The clothes on display are decidedly sexier and more risque than before, with a lingerie and intimates department almost triple in size. Mannequins prominently display the wares with very little decency, small tops that leave very little to the imagination, skirts with slits running up to their waistlines and underwear so lewd that you'd give your left nut to see your family wearing it. You decide this would be the perfect opportunity to get your harem some gifts, and you set about selecting some choice items.

Just as you finish, you hear a cry from nearby.

"Mom! This dress isn't sexy enough. I want one that my date will lose their mind over, not one that makes me feel like a nun!"

Sticking your head around a clothes rack, you're able to spot the young girl and her mother standing in front of a pair of changing booths, looking in a mirror. The dress in question could best be described as slinky. A rich blue with sequins that imitate a mermaid's tail, the outfit is almost as tight as a wet-suit would be, sweeping along the teen's admirable curves and accentuating her very narrow waistline before falling all the way to the floor. Sleeveless, the top rises all the way to her neck, where it wraps around her throat like a collar. Honestly, you think the looks a like a knockout in it.

"Honey, you look beautiful in it," the dark-haired mother says with a hint of exasperation in her voice. She rubs her temples as she watches her daughter twirl in front of the mirror. Your prom date will love it."

The pretty daughter rolls her eyes and you get the impression that this is a common argument between the two. When they settle back, her gaze catches you in the reflection in the mirror and her face lights up. She spins on her toes and points at you. "Well, let's get a second opinion on it. I bet this guy agrees with me."

Without asking permission or waiting for a response from you, the girl marches over to where you're standing, grabs your hand and pulls you into the changing area. The mother sends you a silent apology and crosses her arms across her flat stomach. Up close you can see she's just as sexy as her little girl, with a MILF's confident maturity, slightly larger boobs and face that reminds you a bit of Selma Hayek.

The girl launches into her rant. "I'm looking for a prom dress that makes me look fabulous and leaves my date drooling on the floor. I want all my friends to be jealous of how hot I look. My mom thinks this dress will do that, but I disagree. What do you think?"

She raises her arms and gives you an open invitation to stare at her nubile body encased in an outfit that acts as a second skin. Her boobs look to be a comfortable C-cup, high and perky, while the rest of her body doesn't look to have an extra ounce of fat. She slowly spins and you get a long view at her sweet ass, long legs and perfect form. Her ass sways hypnotically as she circles and you can feel blood begin to rush to your crotch.

"Well, I have to say I agree with your mom," you say. "You look amazing in this dress." Storm clouds start to form across the teen's face but you interrupt them by raising your hand. "But I think an opportunity is being missed. You've got the body of a goddess. Something that shows a little bit more skin would make anybody, guy or girl, lose their mind when they see you."

The girl throws her hands up in the air in righteous vindication. "Thank you! This guys obviously knows what he's talking about!" Her mother has to hide her tiny smile behind a raised hand as she watches how easily you're manipulating her daughter.

You grab an outfit from a nearby rack and hand it to the girl. "Here, give this one a try. If I was dating a girl like you, this is the kind of dress I'd like to take you to prom in."

The girl's dark eyes light up as she takes in the short skirt and open top of the outfit you picked out. She takes it eagerly and strides back into changing room, sliding the curtain closed hastily. You take up a position near the mom who is no longer able to hide her smile. She leans close and you catch a whiff of jasmine.

"Thanks for this," she murmurs, casting her voice low so as not to be overheard by her daughter. "She's been a nightmare about this stupid dress. This is the fourth day of shopping and probably the 50th one she's tried on. She's looked great in all of them but she won't listen to my opinion."

"No problem," you reply, "I'm happy to help. Teenage girls sometimes need the validation of someone other than their mother, no matter how right they are." You pause and give a significant look which is not lost on her. "More mature women know exactly what they want don't need someone else to tell them. Maybe you should get the dress she was wearing. She obviously got her body from you and I think you'd fill it even better than she did."

The mother tilts her head, giving you a second look and then a third. Then her smile widens. She holds out her hand and somehow arches her back at the same time, pushing her chest out until you have **** but to stare at her generous cleavage. You shake her hand and she says, "It's nice to meet you. I'm Joy."

You give a low chuckle. "I bet you are," you say. "I'm...."

Before you can return the introduction, the curtain screen is whipped open and Joy's daughter gives a squeal of delight, bouncing out of the changing room to stand in front of the mirrors. "I love it, I love it, I love it!" she screams, jumping up and down, which causes her some difficulties. The scarlet dress you picked out is strapless and low-cut, a shallow 'V' sliced from the middle. As she jumps around, her perky boobs leap free from their confinement and she has to slow down long enough to pull the top back up. But she doesn't seem overly concerned by the exposure and continues to gush about her love of the dress.

Her mother sighs. "Daphne, you know you're going to have to do that all night long, right?"

"Yeah," Daphne giggles. "It's perfect!" She spins around and sticks out her butt to see how it looks. Pretty damn fine, you think. The hem falls to mid-thigh leaving more than enough of her creamy legs sticking out to make an impression. Another squeal and then she throws herself into your arms and you can feel her soft body pressed against yours. She can feel your hardon, but instead of pulling away, she grinds against it harder. You reach around and give her ass a nice cupping while she shouts, "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

"Alright," her mom says, pulling her daughter away. "Go get changed and we'll take this one home."

Daphne disappears into the changing room again and Joy shakes her head at the amount of energy the exuberant teen has. She turns to you and throws you a flirtatious look. "I guess I should thank you too." She wraps you in a hug, just like her daughter, her chest rubbing against yours in a lewd display of public affection. And just like her child, she can feel your dick pushing against her and she leans into it, letting it sink into her belly. You reach around again and get another couple handfuls of ass, squeezing them while Joy giggles.

She jumps away likes she's been scalded when the curtain opens for a final time. Daphne has the new dress held over one arm, her energy undiminished. She hugs it close to her body like a lover and then gives you a peck on the cheek. "Thanks again, mister!"

She moves toward the exit of the store, forcing her mom to follow in her footsteps. Then Joy stops, makes a quick dash into the changing room and reemerges with the original dress. As you watch, she holds it up to her own body and gives you a wink before walking quickly to catch up to her daughter.

Having enjoyed yourself quite thoroughly, you whistle a happy little tune and stick your hands in your pockets...where you find something your weren't expecting. You pull the object out and look at it, laughing inwardly at your good fortune.

After a moment's thought, you chase after the two women, calling after them in a loud voice. You catch up with them just outside the store and hand them the card you just discovered.

Joy looks at it, her lips smirking. "You're a photographer?" she asks.

"Yes," you say, dipping your head humbly. "And I'd like to offer my services to take Daphne's prom pictures, free of charge. If you're amenable to that, I mean."

Both beautiful ladies look at you like a hunk of meat, obviously excited at the thought of seeing you again. Daphne's the one who answers enthusiastically. "Yes, I'd love that. If you're half as good at taking photos as you are at picking out dresses, I think we'd be silly not to have you join us!"

They both thank you again and give you the details for next week. As they leave, you observe to identical wiggles in their walks, their peach-shaped asses swaying in the exact same rhythm.

A good start to your excursion, but you're not done yet.