Jonah didn't get far before the stares started. He wasn't sure if people were recognising Claudette from television or if the sight of a drop-dead gorgeous blonde sprinting down the street in six-inch heels was enough to garner the public's attention. Nevertheless, he found himself enjoying the gazes on him – especially those from guys. One man rolled down the window of his expensive sports-car to wolf-whistle at him and Jonah instantly felt giddy with pride, and, was that...arousal? Realising, this sexual attraction to the sight of a rich older man came from the character he occupied, shame surged in him, but it was a shame that was caged deep within his buxom body. Try as he might, Jonah just couldn't overpower the base urges and characteristics written into the bimbo housewife.
His head was still fuzzy with wine but Jonah still had enough wits to realise he needed a plan. He had a leopard print purse over one shoulder and it contained a cellphone, but this clearly belonged to Claudette as it was covered in hot pink fur and was full of numbers for characters from the show. Groaning with frustration, he started to walk towards town. Mercifully, he found that he could walk effortlessly in the towering heels, gliding down the footpath with a grace that turned yet more heads. At last, the high-rise buildings of the city's center rose above him. Businesses and restaurants flashed their signage in neon in the darkening sky. Once he reached the main square, these were replaced with hi-tech billboards and once more Claudette's instincts took over, and he found himself raising his head to admire the offerings of the luxury brands offering their products. Jonah realised his mistake immediately.
It was a perfume brand – its new fragrance advertised on a thirty foot television screen by a glamorous starlet at a staged red carpet event. Her perfect curves were wrapped in shimmering gold that draped down to her ankles, and she was holding a snow white fur cape around herself. And now, so was Jonah...
The advert starred a young woman who insisted on only the best – the finest, more exquisite things in life. And that's how Jonah spent the night cruising the city's more expensive night-clubs. Not that he had to pay for any of them, of course. Everywhere he went, he found that he could bat his eyelashes or flick his silky golden hair and men in suits would be falling over themselves to open doors for him, or to lift the rope to allow entry to bars that had seconds earlier proclaimed to be full. Colorful drinks were pushed at him and quizzical hands explored his lower back and butt, guiding him onto dancefloors, against tall dark strangers and ultimately into the back of a limo – and his body duly obliged. It told him it liked being treated like a trophy – like an expensive prop that could be fondled and worshipped by men with bulging wallets. Yet, Jonah was thankful that while he felt powerless to the seduction of the wealth and power of the men who courted him, he never felt desire for them. They were as much shiny props to him as he was to them, and so when at last the limo pulled up outside the Hotel Grande at 6am the following morning, he was relieved to be able to offer a dignified wave as the driver let him out, and glide off into the sunrise.
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