Murder on Mars, Chapter 15
The corselette strictly enforces projectile breasts, a wasp waist, a pancake ass, and a stiff-back posture. A torture device born out of high fashion, whose name is severity, no matter how you try to recouch its narrative.
Out here in the battlefield, it is the cornerstone of an outfit that looks completely out of place. Yet, Lucy in her high heels and tight dowdy mini-skirted business suit navigates the sands as easily as the others do in their combat-booted purpose-built exos. Say it ain’t so?!
The jacket has a severe English cut. Therefore. … There is no plunging front neckline on her buttoned suit coat to shamelessly afford teasing glimpses of plumped tits holstered in the lacy cups of her corset’s pointy bra cups. But, this Icelandic sex kitten is not so easily muted. So … Finding the needed excuse, and exercising her options. She unbuttons her coat to ostensively give her easy access to her pistols, and, by doing so, a real drama show ensues. The undone jacket mimics the usage of a daring plunging cleavage-baring neckline, in other words, a deep V-neck and then some. The French would highly approve of her makeshift French cut, and they would also be positively green with envy.
Another concession to the situation is her choice in gloves. In place of prim-n-proper prudz, she’s wearing those severe black skin-z from the constituent lodge. Clearly visible, imprinted in the gloves, encircling the middle of the biceps, is large stylized script, “SEX & VIOLENCE”. Of note: the script wasn’t there in the lodge. Naughty. Naughty. Naughty.
And, something Lucy wasn’t wearing in that private lodge, and hasn’t worn for some time now. If you were to raise her jacket in the rear, you would see a Wanda holstered in a Race Bannon. This collapsible Martian Military Police electroshock wand, with the proportions of a medium club when fully extended, can also be used as an instrument of blunt force trauma. Its holster is gripping the waistband of her skirt, and is nestled snugly against the hollow of her spine because of the tightness of her short, high-waist, pencil skirt and the sneaky back-holster configuration of the Race Bannon itself.
Shock stick, club, an instrument of torture, the Wanda has many nefarious uses.
Using the Wanda, she intends to sodomize Simon. Anally raping him, repeatedly and violently. Lucy hopes that rectally he’s a virgin, because she craves to figuratively and literally tear him up back there, shredding the delicate tissue of his hoped-for pristine previously-unviolated rectum.
Faithfully, adhering to a choice tenet of movie star Rock Hudson, the girl loves breaking in straight men who are backdoor unknowns. Besides that, she’s never done an Angel before. You know what they say, “Once you go Angel, you NEVER want to go back!”
Because her suit is concealed carry. There are no telltale bulges from the Wanda, pistols, Yakima, or purse worn underneath her curve-hugging jacket. Sneaky. Sneaky. Sneaky.
Perls, embossed skin-z, concealed-carry Koo, Careys, corselette, hi-waist panties, and Bolshoi-bare, with a decidedly early-to-mid-sixties Camelot groove. This is almost “The GOP cult of Ann Coulter”. In point of fact, substitute long, center-parted, dead straight, blond hair (a “classic” Ann Coulter), for of her Grune, and you would have an Ann Coulter in place of a Sarah Palin.
Then, the girl goes and does it. Her hair goes classic Ann Coulter, that more severe, more outdated, and still very becoming hairdo. As a result, her Sarah Palin becomes an Ann Coulter.
Add in the fact that … When she switches modes from Sarah Palin to Ann Coulter, she implicitly becomes Toy’s Doll, again.
To revisit. While Lucy is Toy’s Doll … That loathsome face—a shrew’s beguiling one. A face that wears a perpetual scowl. A look that’s best described as “haughty, mixed with a little bit of rage.” Yet, is otherwise lacking in emotion. In a word, stiff—i.e., a face that is a vision of Borg loveliness, per Borg specifications, of course. Something else that applies to Lucy as Toy’s Doll that also applies to a Borg queen, and to Toy itself as well. Thus, facially, she’s sporting a Marlena. This thoroughly ruins or further beautifies her face, depending upon your point of view.
To reiterate. Haughty, aloof, seemingly unattainable. Beauty that will stop traffic dead in its tracks, if you’re into beauty of the explicitly cruel, uber dominatrix, “Worship Me, Now!!!” flavor, that is. This describes her to a tee.
Bottomline … In Ann Coulter mode, Lucy is a full-blown dominatrix. And, she’s always a cold bloodied killer.