until you're hers

The lingerie-clad woman in the open labcoat continues to lick at your face as she brings your left hand up to her black lace -enclosed titty.

You massage the D-cup, looking for her nipple as she brings her tongue to your partially open lips, forcing herself inside, searching for more sweet man-nectar. You twist her nip, making her moan deep inside you as your tongues entwine.

"Mmm," she purrs, "from the taste, I'd say you had a virginal young man barely out of his teens," as she fondles your sundress covered nipples.

You blush, knowing she was right.

Marcia smiles wickedly. "Ah, that's sweet. A cocktease that can still blush. I can use that." She eases you back in the chair, your head coming to rest on the inclined backrest.

"You leave things to me, sweetie. Men won't be able to walk by you without wetting their pants," she assures like a dear auntie as she swabs your countenance with astringent.

You feel trapped by the presence of this beautiful domineering woman and just relax and see what happens.

She rebuttons her labcoat, folks still walking the aisle behind your turned chair, as she gets to work.

She applies a pink tinged foundation to your face first, giving a perpetual girlish blush. Next, she outlines your beestung lips in dark pink, making them appear even more swollen and pouty than they already are. She fills them in with an even brighter glossier pink. As she waits for your lips to dry, she daubs your high cheekbones in burnt orange. They look permanently flushed, or slapped, as you watch her work in the mirror behind her. She also applies a little to the sides of your exposed cleavage, accentuating it even more.

Marcia returns to your lips, brushing on a creamy glaze. God, you look like you've just taken another mouthful!

"Okay baby, now let's finish with those pretty eyes. After all, they are the windows to what there is of a cocksucker's soul. Close them til I tell you I'm done," she orders, ready to daub your socket with the deepest violet.

Your world goes dark as you feel her daub your eyelids heavily with the stuff. You feel her move your hands out of the way, to the chairs' handrests as she leans over to make another application.

She seems to disappear momentarily, then you feel her apply what feel like very heavy false eyelashes to your already full ones. You also hear a buzz and feel her shave the edges of your eyebrows, only to line in them again. And then, your wrists are both wrapped with something soft.

"Open."

You open your eyes to a face you barely recognise as your own. Besides the other whorish daubs of makeup, your eyes look dark and bruised with mascara, almost like a raccoon. Your thick lashes flutter, feeling heavy, glistening with tiny jewels at their ends. Like dewdrops, or more appropriately, cumdrops. Your eyebrows seem to permanently arch devilishly.

You try to move. Marcia has wrapped velcro strips around the armrests, locking you in place.

You see her kneel down and pull out what is sold at Masy's as a personal massager and plug it into a receptacle. You watch helplessly as Marcia pushes the blunt end into your nearly exposed cunny and puts it on low.

"I'll be right back, don't go anywhere," Marcia smiles as she visits with her associates.

You hear her ask them to take care of her nails and hair while she goes down to the nightlife section.

Jan and Cindy approach you, studying your transformation. "Wow, she really outdid herself this time," says Cindy, talking about you like you weren't there as she applies ridiculously long three inch nails to each hand.

"Well, young mallsluts are her specialty," Jan replies, using an instrument to straighten your blonde hair so it falls closely to your face. Except at your forehead. She takes some extra-strength gel and gives you a 'Something About Mary' cowlick. Giggling, she reaches between your legs and turns the massager to max as they both leave you.

After what seems like hours, but is only minutes, Marcia returns with a wardrobe bag and shoebox. She sees you bucking in orgasm in your seat. She unplugs the massager and smiles as she pulls the wand from you and looks at the dial. "I see the girls have had their fun."

She pulls out a scissors and non-chalantly cuts your sundress' shoulderstraps. "A real slut can't be wearing this schoolmarmy thing" she states as she tugs the rest of the sheath off from below.

You can't believe you are sitting handcuffed to a chair naked in the middle of the mall.

Marcia continues. She lightly covers you in a glittery bodyspray of the sexiest perfume. Next, she tosses your sandals with your ruined sundress and pulls a black two-piece outfit from the bag. She tugs the skirt up and over your full hips, continuing to dress you like an over-sized Barbie doll. You noticed some crosshatching on the skirt's rear, but the length is almost mid-thigh. Until you shift your legs and discover the skirt's immodesty. Just a shift of your left thigh causes a slit to gap all the way to the juncture of your hip. she pulls you forward and attaches the leather halter. It also has crosshatched strips with wide gaps at the bodice and rear. She bends to place your cute feet in little black anklebooties.

You watch as she removes your ID from your purse and locks the bag in a cabinet.

She reads from your ID. "Lacey Cummings. HMM. You're free to go," she says sticking your card in her bracup as she undoes your bonds. "I get off at 11. Then I'll get you off. Don't be late."

You wordlessly stand, still in a daze as you stare at your reflection. Marcia leaves you to admire her work. You turn to see the leather lattice work reveals the top of your asscrack as well as most of your back. You head back out into the now-crowded mall populace.