By some twisted miracle you had shrunk to the size of a crumb inside the plus-sized changing room on your first day of the job. As you sat on the table and tried to wrap you mind around this, the door to the booth opened up. You turned and nearly screamed when you saw the gargantuan form of Big Kate. You could feel the ground quake under her weight as she entered and closed the door behind her. To you she was taller than a sky scraper and fatter than ever. As terrifying as this was, you were going to need her help. You tried to shout out to get her attention, but you were momentarily stunned by a sudden foul smell. Her noxious BO was already filling the changing room and there was no escape from it at your size. As you began coughing, Kate looked down and saw the lipstick you had placed for her. You look up and see her giant eyeball looking in your direction. You begin jumping and waving, hoping she sees you down there. A disappointed look appears on her face and she sighs, blasting you with a hurricane of halitosis. The force of her breath is so strong that it lifts you off your feet, and right onto the tip of the open lipstick you set out for her.
"Man, I was hoping he would help me put this stuff on," Kate laments. "Oh well, at least he got me something special for my luscious lips."
With that you feel a massive shift in gravity as she picks up the lipstick. She brings it up to her face and contemplates the color. You try to wave at her but your hands are stuck in the thick cosmetic goop. While she examines the tube, you examine her massive face. She was certainly never a looker, but know every imperfection was magnifies over a hundred times. You could see every patch of grease, clogged pore, and stand of facial hair. All the while she was breathing through her mouth and her breath seemed even worse than before. The wet, heavy air surrounded you, ensuring that there was no escape from the stench. Then she did something truly horrifying. The lipstick went horizontal and began heading for her dry lips. You cried out for her attention, praying that she wouldn't smash you to death just by just applying make-up. Less than an inch from her mouth you stop. You think that she might have heard you. Unfortunately, the next thing you heard wasn't a cry of discovery, but a massive belch. You are slammed by a deafening blast and a putrid stench as taco gas pours out from her belly.
"Goodness," She exclaims. "Maybe it's a good thing he wasn't here for that." With that she licked her lips and resumed putting on the lipstick.
Your eyes, nose, and ears were burning from the discharge. You prayed that your ordeal was over, but it was just beginning. Her filthy tongue stuck out in front of you and began slopping all over her lips, coating them in a fresh coat of saliva. With no more interruptions, you made contact with her lips. The pressure from being crushed between the beauty product and her spongy lips was unreal. You were dragged across her rough flesh as she colored it. When she was done, you were...
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