Page 131 of Morally Corrupt
"Of course," she answers immediately. No remorse. Nothing.
"What else is in there?" I change the topic, not wanting to dwell on her confession.
"These…" She removes a fake beard and a pair of glasses. "As well as these…" Next are some temporary tattoos on a piece of paper and a wig. "are for you."
"You want me to putthaton?" I motion towards the long-haired wig.
"Yes. Don't worry. I'll make you look like an outlaw." She smirks and motions me to sit on the other bed. I look at her suspiciously but relent. We need to be discreet, so the disguise goes.
"Let's see," she says as she concentrates on applying the fake tattoos all over my neck and arms.
She then focuses on my face and carefully applies a dark fake beard before finally adding on the wig. I'd never realized how much work goes behind these disguises. Just the amount of time Bianca takes to make sure the wig is safely in place is astonishing.
After she's done, I stand and look at the mirror.
I look… strange. My hands go to my new hairline, and I'm impressed by how sturdy the wig placement is. It makes sense why Bianca's never budged as Pink, even when we'd engaged in more physically demanding activities. She'd tied the long hair of the wig in a tail at the back of my neck. The beard changes my face completely. It's not too long, but it still covers my entire jaw. Those two, coupled with the multiple tattoos that now mar my skin, make me appear a completely different person.
"And these." She hands me a pair of glasses with a golden hue, and I put them on. After I turn towards her to gauge her reaction, she gives out a loud whistle.
"I'd fuck you," she says unabashedly, those words meant to be her approval.
I grunt and then watch her as she transforms herself into Pink.
For her, there are a few other challenging aspects. She starts out with a very bold makeup to change her face's physiognomy before adding a pair of green contact lenses and finally the Pink wig.
She strips to her underwear, and I have to swallow hard as I take in her flawlessly toned body.
She takes off her bra, and I mutter a curse under my breath. She's not even trying to be sexy; she's clearly focused on dressing herself up, yet I can't control myself. I shift ever so slightly to alleviate the discomfort in my pants, but I don't look away from her.
She puts on a lacy black bra that hugs her breasts and then adds the trademark fishnets. She then dons a sparkly purple dress that barely covers her ass.
"I always wondered why Doc Martens," I say as she sits to tie her boots.
"You'll see." She winks at me and then goes to rummage through her suitcase again. She pulls up a bunch of weapons and throws them on the bed in front of me. She looks at each of them before settling on two pocket guns and a small knife, which she then sheaths inside her boots. She then adds more ammo in each boot before she looks at me, grinning, "Done!"
She twirls around, and I'm again surprised by her transformation. We both look entirely different.
"Boots are perfect to store weapons; that's why I usually only wear boots."
"No killing, remember?" I have to add to which she snorts.
"We need to be prepared for every eventuality," she counters, and I let her have her way.
Lastly, she puts on a choker and touches the pendant until it emits a tiny red light.
"Is that?"
"A camera. We can research faces later." I nod, glad she'd thought about this.
By the time we finish getting ready, it's already late.
"Don't forget this!" Bianca flings the bracelet in my direction, and I snap it around my wrist before leaving the motel room.
If anyone asks why we're there, we've convened to say we're looking for a third party for our relationship, but hopefully, it won't get to a point where we have to prove we're serious about that.
We take a cab that drops us at the address Vlad had given us. From the outside, it looks like an abandoned factory. Some windows are broken, and the paint is peeling off the walls.
"Here?" I ask, amazed at what I'm seeing.