Business Trip from Hell (Part Three) by John Knuckles

John Knuckles is back! He's now over at Literotica. Go over there to read his new works.

https://www.literotica.com/stories/memberpage.php?uid=2719863&page=submissions


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The situation gets increasingly dire for the snobby, domineering CEO later that night...

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"Mr. Jeff Jones, my patience is wearing thin. Do you have anything left to say?"

"Uh... um..." the young marketing director stammered. His cheeks were bright red. All the eyeballs in the conference room had zeroed in on him like a laser -- and the baby-faced employee was wilting under the pressure. With a tremble in his hand, he wiped his forehead with his handkerchief...

"Uh... um..."

"Spit it out, Jeffrey!" Rachel Queen demanded. "Stop stalling!" The fiery CEO sat at the head of the long conference table, staring down at her cowering cast of executive employees. There were 12 in total, with an age-range of 24 to 72; Jeff Jones was the newest (and youngest) addition to the "Queen Team." A natural-born charmer, he cost Rachel a mint to sign to an exclusive contract. Lauded throughout the fashion industry as a "boy genius," Mr. Jones had a reputation for being a rainmaker, but around the office he seemed to spend most his time flirting with his cute coworkers. Like he was Brad Pitt, or something!

But never Rachel. Not even once. Not even in passing.

Not even when she took the first step and initiated the flirting...

He was one of two male employees at Queen Swimwear. (The other, Melvin Mutton, was the creative director and graphic artist. Messy Melvin was cursed with acne and had an unfortunate habit of jamming his fingers up his nose while farting, so he wasn't exactly a highly sought after romantic prospect.) But Jeff was handsome and tall... the ladies alternated between mothering him with home-cooked meals during lunchtime -- and trying to seduce him, like they were Mrs. Robinson in the hallways! Ooh!! It made Rachel SICK how her Queen Team acted like empty-headed bimbos around him... like -- like he was some prize! Bleah!!

What made HIM so great any way? Screw Jeff Jones!

"Um, I -- I... well, the new swimsuit line, the Queen Angel Razor, will be hitting the shelves next month... uh," he rambled. She had to admit, he looked kind of cute when he was flustered.

"Tell me something I don't know, little Jeffery!" scolded Miss Queen, leaning back in her leather chair. With her tailor-made business suit, flawless makeup and perfect hair, she was absolutely stunning. And with her large, overpowering chest and wide, womanly curves, she was also as intimidating as a battle tank.

"I -- I just received the new photos of you modeling the Angel Razor... I've arranged displays at Victoria's Secret, um, at Frederick's of Hollywood... um..."

"Show me the new photos, little Jeffrey! I haven't seen them yet. This is MY company, and nothing goes to print without MY direct approval."

"Y -- yes, ma'am..."

Jeff nervously hit the multimedia projector. Immediately on the large TV flashed an AMAZING photo of Miss Rachel Queen wearing the skimpy, air-thin Angel Razor bikini. It looked like the photo shoot must've taken place in French Polynesia in late July or early August. And Rachel looked... wow.

Wow! I mean... W-O-W!!!

Even the hetero women at the table gasped at how beautiful Rachel looked in the photo. Her skin... her hair... her breasts... why, she had the physique of a goddess! The other women were DRIPPING with envy! The image was every bit as iconic as Raquel Welch in "One Million Years B.C."

Nobody could look away from the TV: There was their world-famous CEO, oiled and radiant, with her big, firm breasts, tight stomach and long, supple legs... she was simply breathtaking. And with her flawless body regally adorned in the new Angel Razor swimsuit, there was no doubt in anyone's mind that the marketing campaign would be worth millions. Maybe even billions. Because it was more than her body that commanded their primal yearnings: It was the expression on her face.

Confident. Take-charge. Fearless. Glamorous.

It was quintessential Rachel Queen.

The conference room buzzed with lust and envy! THIS was what all the girls would sell their souls to look like! Bravo! Their boss had done it again.

Miss Queen smiled. Her large breasts jiggled slightly as she arose from the table to admire the image on the screen. Her executive team stood with her and applauded.

"Y -- you've never looked better, ma'am!" stammered Jeff.

"Three cheers for Miss Queen!" cheered Melvin.

Everyone cheered!

Jeff looked to his feet and blurted: "I... I've always had a crush on you, Miss Queen... I tried to hide it, but... you're so sexy and hot in that picture! Um, uh... you probably wouldn't go out with a -- a pimply-faced LOSER like me... right?"

"Awww!!" sighed the girls. They were heartbroken that Jeff had chosen their boss instead of them! It -- it wasn't fair! But... how could they possibly compete against the great Rachel Queen? Just look at her! Just look at that incredible image on the TV screen!

It would be pointless.

Rachel was grinning from ear to ear. For a split second, she pretended like she was tempted. But then her expression changed entirely:

"I'd NEVER go out with you, Mr. Jones," she hissed. "You're just a prepubescent schoolboy, while I'm a natural-born adult woman. A REAL woman! And from what I hear," she added, motioning with her fingers, "you don't quite mesure up in the MAN department! I'm talking hung like an inch worm! Ha!"

Jeff loked like he was about to burst into tears! All the girls stared at the so-called office stud in astonishment... which quickly devolved into hoots of laughter.

"Ooh, too bad," one of the ladies teased. "I thought Jeff was a stallion! But I guess he's just a baby pony with a teeny little crayon!"

"I can't believe I wasted my lasagna supreme on Needle Dick!" said another.

His colleagues burst into giggles. Jeff covered his face in terror.

But then Rachel had a puzzled expresion on her face:

"Does... does it feel warm to anyone else?" she asked. "Why... why does it feel so warm in here?" She sniffed the air suspiciously...

Jeff stared in surprise at Miss Queen's crotch. A sinister smile spread across his boyish face:

"Miss Queen! You've just PEED all over yourself! You naughty, messy little girl!"

"What?!" screamed Rachel. She looked down at her midsection in horror: Her entire front was drenched!

"Oh God!!" cried the CEO. She desperately tried to cover herself from her employees. This... this... this couldn't be happening...!!!

But it was too late: Everyone in the room was pointing and laughing.

"Look! Miss Queen had an accident," laughed Jeff. "That gives me an idea for another concept for the Angel Razor... let me show you a second photo that I had commissioned."

He hit a button -- and immediately on the TV was a brand-new image of Rachel Queen.

Only this time, she wasn't on the beaches of Tahiti. She was on her back, sprawled atop a hotel bed. The picture must've been taken late at night, because Rachel looked exhausted. She was squinting at the camera with a weary haze in her bloodshot eyes. On her bottom half, she was wearing the Angel Razor, only it wasn't fitting as well as before. Her soft belly hung gently over the waistband, showing off her tummy's "pouch."

But on her top half, she was topless.

Not "topless" like the Photoshopped images of her big tits and bouncy cleavage in a skimpy, Queen-designed bikini top. And not "topless" like the sexy glamour shots she once took in dim lighting, where she played peekaboo with her breasts, coyfully holding them in her hands.

But topless.

Completely, 100 percent TOPLESS.

The lines in her rib cage, the blemishes and birthmarks on her skin, her lack of ANY cup-size, her unusually pink little nipples that had hardened into adorable itty-bitty nubs... there she was, on the conference room TV, for everyone to see. And with the clarity of the super-HD television on the wall, EVERY detail of her chest was FULLY exposed. Even the small stretch marks on her tits and all the juicy goosebumps around her nips!

"Notice carefully," lectured Jeff, pointing with his finger. "See those cutesy-wootsy little boobies? There's no firmness at all! I think it's because she's been hiding her tits under 10 pounds of stuffing for the past 20 years. Miss Queen must've smothered the firmness right out of 'em! And don't overlook our CEO's potbelly. See her gut? With Rachel's 'natural-born' chubbiness, we can market Queen Swimwear to plus-sized adolescents. You know... fat little girls."

"N -- no!" protested Rachel, her face aghast. Her inner thighs were still leaking urine -- it was HORRIBLE! She grabbed a bunch of papers from the table and tried to mop herself up. "NO!! We -- we are Queen Swimwear! We sell sex appeal! We don't market to plus-sized fatties! Now, please -- take that picture DOWN!! Get it OFF the screen!"

"But it's an untapped audience demo!" Jeff argued. "Think of all the tubby, flatchested little kids who'd give anything to be attractive. You know: The kind who look just like you do -- once you strip away your Photoshop editing and silicone falsies, I mean. We can make millions! All we have to do is strip you naked... and publish a 'before' and 'after' shot!"

"NO!! You -- you --"

"That's actually a prety good idea," remarked Belinda, the company's CPA. "Because if these swimsuits can make a titless butterball like Miss Queen look attractive..."

"NOOO!!!! STOP!! DON'T LISTEN TO HIM!!"

With a line of urine still running down her leg, Rachel was in a full-blown state of panic. Her heart felt like it would burst out of her chest!

The whole room was buzzing! Everyone was talking and laughing and pointing... at HER! They were laughing at -- at Rachel Queen!

"Hold on, folks -- this marketing report ain't over yet. There's more!"

Jeff hit another button on the multimedia projector. And up popped a new picture:

This image still showed Rachel on her back, laying topless on the hotel bed... but now it was worse. Much, MUCH worse.

Because it wasn't just that she was topless. She was also bottomless.

And instead of wearing a sexy swimsuit, she was wearing a fat, puffy diaper!

A... a diaper!

And her expression was hideous! Instead of looking sexy and elegantly made-up, she was plain-faced, freckled, and grinning like an idiot! Drool was even dripping down her chin!

"Nooooo!!" wailed Rachel. "How -- how did you --"

The picture on the TV was almost impossible to believe: Miss Queen stripped of all her clothes -- all her jewelry, her makeup and even her cherished silicone falsies -- gurgling like a sex-starved slut, showing off her tiny titties, giving the crowd a good, long view of her REAL "natural-born" body.

The way she looked WITHOUT the magic of post-production Photoshop.

But... in a diaper?!

All her employees stood up to examine the image more closely. Several put on their glasses. Others took pictures with their phones. One woman exclaimed: "Holy moley! Look at her tits!"

"What tits?" sneered another. "She has no tits! My 11-year-old daughter has bigger tits!"

"Tsk, tsk," chided an older lady. "Rachel Queen must be nothing but stuffing! How shameful! And she struts around in her fancy clothes like she's the cat's meow! She deserves to be in a diaper!"

"Yeah," agreed Alice, the fulfillment director. "Just look at that mess on the floor. She's a bad widdle girl who had an accident!"

"I call this line my Princess Puddle-Pants collection!" joked Jeff. "Perfect for the bitchy fashion executive with a secretly flat chest and a bladder control problem!"

Everyone laughed. Everyone! And that image on the TV... how... HOW did Jeff get that picture?! Topless?

AND IN A DIAPER?!

"NOOO!!" bellowed Miss Queen. "Don't look! Don't look!" She leaped atop the conference table like a crazy person and pounded at the multimedia projector with her fists, yanking at the wires. Bam! Bam! Bam! SMASH!!

But dammit -- the stupid machine STILL wouldn't turn off! That -- that horrible image stayed stubbornly on the TV screen!

Christ almighty...

Her flat chest and micro-nipples... out in the open! Her jelly-belly and baby fat! And the worst indignity of them all: The always-impeccably dressed CEO was somehow cooing like a moron, wearing nothing but a diaper! But how? HOW?!

"Oh, Miss Queen," called Jeff, holding a diaper that he had apparently kept in his briefcase. "Looks like you had another messy-whoopsy! Come over here so we can change you! Melvin -- grab her and hand me the talcum powder!"

She felt Melvin grab her ankles.

"Good. Now pull down her pants!"

She felt his grubby fingers penetrate her waistline.

Her face turned ghastly white:

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!"

Then --

Rachel awoke in a cold sweat. She was panting....

Phew! It was just a nightmare... THANK GOD it was all just a terrible, awful, rotten nightmare. Whew...

But then she felt down under the covers... and touched her thighs, crotch and belly.

They felt warm and wet.

Oh, no!! She... she WET herself! She peed in her sleep! In real life!

Scared out of her wits, Rachel looked to the other side of the bed: Her junior employee, Jeff Jones, was still sleeping soundly just inches away, snoring in a gentle rhythm. Like he didn't have a care in the world...

Rachel wanted to cry! After all she had been through! It was bad enough that Jeff Jones had stolen several glimpses of her private anatomy. God, that was embarrassing! And it was bad enough that her BITCH ex-employee had taken advantage of her injured back and tricked her into exposing herself in the lobby -- kidnapping her falsies in the process. But for her boy-faced, soon-to-be-fired employee to discover that the legendary Rachel Queen is a... a... a flat-chested bedwetter...?! With HIS big mouth?! Everyone would know! Everyone in the industry! She'd be a -- a laughingstock!

She would rather die a thousand deaths then let her nightmare come true...

Very quietly, Rachel lifted the covers off her body. Jeff was still soundly sleeping...

Her covers were soaked! How did they get so wet?! But the scent of urine was unmistakable. She looked down: She was still wearing her sexy designer dress, but one shoulder strap had snapped in half. And of course, the top half of her dress now hung uncomfortably loose, since she no longer had her silicone inserts to prop it up.

Her face burned with humiliation...

Beneath her was a puddle of her own piss. And her ultra-absorbent dress fabric had sucked-up the piss like a sponge, drenching the poor girl from her bellybutton to her knees. She was absolutely soaked!

She slowly wiggled herself up in the bed, rising towards the headboard, trying to sit up -- her efforts undermined by her injured back. Ow! Ow! Every movement was painful as hell. But Rachel was careful not to scream. In fact, she didn't even make a single sound. She couldn't risk waking Jeff up... and getting caught like THIS!

While wiggling, her dress top dropped down, exposing her breasts.

Again.

And all at once, Rachel Queen's bare little titties hardened in the cool hotel air. Her secret shame was on display one more time! It was almost like her underdeveloped breasts were mocking her...

"God, if you get me out of this... PLEASE!!" begged Rachel in silent prayer. "I -- I'll dedicate my life to being good! I'll go to church every Sunday! Just PLEASE get me out if this!! PLEASE!!"

Wetting the bed!! How... how could she have done this?! Rachel Queen didn't have bedwetting accidents! Not since she was a kid! She vaguely remembered swallowing a bunch of pain pills that Jeff gave her with a small cup of water -- two small pills, and one blue diamond-shaped pill with a "V" on it, if she remembered right -- but that was all she had to drink. How... how could this have happened?!

Just then, Jeff rolled over in his sleep. His arm began to fall towards Rachel in slow motion -- aiming straight for her soaking wet crotch!

"Eek!" squealed the CEO, redirecting his hand to the nearest non-wet thing she could think of:

Her tiny little tits. Both of them.

His palm slapped HARD against her boney little nips. SMACK!! It stung! The pain throbbed, shooting shockwaves up and down her body.

Grumbling softly in his sleep, he squeezed and rubbed her breasts -- not just her nipples, but the entirety of her tits. (All of 'em... such as they were.)

The tips of his fingers pressed down on her intimate flesh... first one breast, then his hand slid to the other... and back again. His hands were big and strong...

Despite the urgency of her wet clothes, Rachel paused. She... she couldn't move. She knew that she HAD to move... but she couldn't. The way his rough hands felt on her lovely lady lumps... the way she was being rubbed, touched and squeezed...

All she could do was lay there... and let her junior employee MOLEST HER TINY TITS!! She -- she had no choice! It was almost as if his large fingers had possessed her soul, imprisoning her to the warm, wet bedsheets...

Before she knew it, she was moaning softly under her breath. She... she just couldn't help it! And then, almost subconsciously, her hands shot inside her soaked panties. Miss Queen's thighs widened. Her hips began to buck in the bed as she played with herself...

All the while, Jeff Jones was STILL rigorously massaging her tits in his sleep! Christ!! His fingers felt SO damn good!! And it had been so long since the career-minded CEO had been touched. Oh, God!! Her sensitive, girlish nipples were on sensory overload!

She pulled his covers slightly down and peeked at him. He wasn't wearing a shirt... maybe just a pair of pajama shorts. Lord, he was SO muscular and handsome! Rachel closed her eyes and imagined how GOOD it would feel if Jeff Jones FUCKED her... how all the other girls would give ANYTHING to be groped by the gorgeous, beautiful Jeffrey Jones! Mmmm...

Rachel worked the tip of her middle finger inside her pussy -- and without any warning, her panties immediately exploded with a brand new bodily secretion.

"Oh, no! What... what's happening to me?!" she whispered.

The sensation was incredible! She bucked her hips just a little bit harder...

In all her years, she had NEVER been horny like this!

She pushed her middle finger halfway inside of her -- in, out! In, out! Then her second finger.

Grunt... grunt... grunt...

That's when Jeff readjusted himself in his sleep -- and with one hand still groping her tits, he reached his other arm over and slapped it down on her wet dress -- right over her waistline. And when his bare arm made contact with the soaking fabric, he suddenly stopped snoring!

Jeff sat up in bed and turned on the lights.

Rachel was frozen with fear! She... she couldn't move! She just sat there -- like a statue -- in her urine-soaked dress, paralyzed with unholy dread. Why... why couldn't she move?! SHE NEEDED TO MOVE!!! Those cute little nipples of hers were fully exposed(!!) to her junior employee once again -- and while Jeff was staring, her rock-hard nuggets got even harder. Most remarkable of all, her hand was still clearly inside her wet panties, fingering herself...

It took Jeff a good 30 seconds to process what he was seeing:

"Miss Queen... what the fuck are you doing?!"

"I -- I -- I...."

The horny CEO didn't know what to do! She felt like a deer caught in the headlights! Her exposed little tits... her hard nipples... her fingers stuck in her snatch... the fact that she was THIS CLOSE to cumming... or the fact that she had wet the bed like a naughty schoolgirl... which was more disgraceful??? She gulped. Her brain felt so slow...

"Miss Queen! Did you... did you go wee-wee in the bed?!"

Rachel suddenly snapped out of her trance. She pulled her fingers out of her pussy and jerked the covers over her head!

"No!!" she screamed, hiding under the sheets. "I -- I was drinking some water. And -- and it spilled! G -- Go away!! Please!!"

Jeff sniffed the top of the sheets.

"You DID wet the bed! This is PISS! What are you, an adolescent?!"

She shook her head back and forth beneath the covers, desperately trying to convince her junior employee that she wasn't a bedwetter:

"Please, Jeff -- you've got to believe me! This was water! Water! That's what we'll tell everyone! Please!"

Jeff looked down in disgust. "It's bad enough that you wet the bed like a bad little baby. But you were taking advantage of me! I... I remember now, Miss Queen... it's all coming back to me: You were making me rub your meager little boobies while I slept -- as you masturbated! How... how could you violate me like that?!"

"NO!! Jeff --"

In a fury, Jeff threw the covers and blankets to the floor. There was nowhere left to hide! Once again, Miss Queen's bare little boobies and piss-stained clothes were fully visible to her much-younger subordinate... and her inner thighs were glistening with a liquid that MOST DEFINITELY wasn't urine.

But everything under her was soaked. And her "husband" looked furious:

"For Christ's sake! We have a big meeting tomorrow... the last thing I wanted to deal with was THIS: A bedwetting CEO whose bathroom habits are as immature as her chest! Fuck! I need this commission, Miss Queen! And as my 'property' in this Kingdom, I'm liable for the damages when you can't go potty like a big girl. Dammit! Your pee-pee escapades are gonna cost me! Well, it's gonna cost YOU too!"

The angry man stood up, sat in a nearby hotel chair -- and pulled Miss Queen over his knee!

"Jeff! What are you doing?! Let -- LET GO of me NOW!!"

"I'm just doing what's culturally appropriate, Miss Queen."

He lifted her dress high over her ass, raising it to the upper-middle of her back. Her wet, skimpy panties clung to her body like a second layer of skin; the delectable crack in her ass and the inviting cleft of her camel toe stared back at him.

"JEFF! Put my dress down THIS INSTANT! Or I swear to God, I will --"

Then he yanked her wet, warm undies down to her knees! They were still dripping!

"NO, JEFF!! NOOOOOOOOooooooooooo!!"

His boss' bare ass was exposed!

And it most certainly wasn't the Photoshopped ass of an airbrushed swimsuit model... but the ample butt of an aging businesswoman who didn't always have time to eat healthy.... or exercise regularly... and because of her lack of sex life, she hadn't maintained her, ahem, "personal grooming"...

Her chubby buns wiggled wildly in his lap, bobbing up and down, giving her "husband" one helluva show! But trying to preserve an iota of modesty, Rachel clenched her butt cheeks together so tightly, you'd need a crowbar to open them! She would NOT let Jeff Jones see what was between her cheeks and legs! Oh, no! Never! That was PRIVATE!

Jeff grinned and loosened his wrists.

"You nasty pisser! Your fat ass is gonna pay for what you've done!"

SMACK!! SMACK!! SMACK!!

It was almost surreal: The great and powerful Rachel Queen was bent over her underling's knee, getting a bare-assed spanking!

And it HURT!! It hurt SO MUCH!

Each smack stung like a snake bite -- but the most humiliating part was how her hairy pussy was violently rubbing against his knee with every SMACK. Oh, no! Her clit was electric! Sparks were flying! With each new SMACK, her pussy lips opened just a sliver more -- and in between each SMACK, her hyper-charged clitty was being pulled up and down over Jeff's coarse leg hairs and pajama fabric...

SMACK!! SMACK!! SMACK!!

"Oh, GOD!!!" cried the CEO.

"Miss Queen, I've NEVER known a woman whose body looked so DIFFERENT when she's out of her clothes! I wonder, what else will we learn about you?"

He started spanking her even harder -- and by now her pussy lips were opening obscenely wide, rubbing themselves nearly all the way open on his legs. She could feel her sticky vaginal secretions dripping all over his shorts...

SMACK!! SMACK!! SMACK!!

"Stop! Jeff! I -- I'm sorry! It was an accident! An ACCIDENT!" she shrieked.

Her PUSSY! It was being stretched! She was practically GAPING!! OH, CHRIST ALMIGHTY!!

"Please! It -- it was an accident!! OOOOH!!"

"Like HELL it was an accident!" Jeff thundered. He reached down and pinched her sensitive little nipples.

"Ow! Oooh!! My titties!! JEFF!! Let GO!! You -- you can't..."

Then he pulled and tugged -- hard!

"AAAAAHHH! MY TITTIES!" she yelped.

"It was no accident -- well, maybe the bedwetting was, but it certainly wasn't an accident when you tricked me into fondling these pathetic little mosquito bites!"

SMACK!! SMACK!! SMACK!!

"I'm sorry!! I'm sorry!! OWWW!!!"

It was almost unbearable! Her naked butt was getting spanked -- and her small boobies were being yanked -- and she was being forced to lay over the lap of her 20-something employee in piss-drenched clothes and APOLOGIZE TO HIM... while her pussy lips were wedged TOTALLY WIDE OPEN!

She bit her lip, determined not to cry. Somehow, someway she MUST find the courage... she WOULD NOT give him the satisfaction of making her cry. Only babies cry! Jesus, do you hear me?! Please: Don't let me cry!! She still had her pride...

But with every SMACK, her clitty was becoming dangerously close to erupting. The feeling was near-orgasmic... Her breathing quickened. Her heart rate soared.

Grunt... grunt... grunt...

She was SO CLOSE...

...but just before she climaxed, Jeff pushed his boss off his lap and dumped her on the floor. He stood, towering over her.

"You filthy skank!" he swore, pointing at the damp spot on his pajama shorts. "Now you've gotten me wet with your piss! ...At least, I think this is piss. It's kinda gooey."

Rachel was too stunned (and WAY too sexually frustrated!!) to speak. The pain from getting her ass pounded was almost unbearable... but the shame from being humiliated like this was infinitely worse. He -- he PULLED DOWN HER PANTIES AND SPANKED her! She struggled to think...

Right in front of her, Jeff lowered down his pajama shorts and stepped out of them. He was now... naked!

And "Little Jeffrey" was anything but little: He was HUGE! Rachel had never seen a cock so big. And -- and it wasn't even aroused! Lord! If it looked this big when it was flaccid, she wondered what it would look like fully erect...

"See?!" he demanded, holding up his pajama shorts. "You got my clothes wet. This is gonna stain. You're a vile, nasty creature!"

But Rachel didn't look at his shorts. She couldn't take her eyes off his cock. Christ! It was long and thick... and perfect...

"You could've at least warned me that you're a bedwetter, Miss Queen. Now my pajamas are ruined!"

Almost as if she were under a trance, Rachel reached up -- and grabbed Jeff's penis in her hands.

"Yo! Fuck! What are you doing?!" he exclaimed. "Let go of my dick!"

Rachel didn't hear a thing. Mesmerized, she started stroking his penis... feeling it grow in her fingers... he.. he was a GIANT!!

"Miss Queen! Stop!"

Instead, Rachel leaned forward and tried to suck his dick...

"I said, STOP!"

Jeff grabbed Rachel by the hair and threw her roughly down, freeing his cock from her grip. The force of slamming into the floor seemed to snap the spellbound CEO out of her trance. Suddenly aware of her surroundings, Rachel quickly tried to hoist her dress over her tits and explain:

"Oh my God -- Jeff -- I don't know what -- I --"

The young marketing director responded by gripping his boss by the ankles. He was still naked...

"You bitch! You think you can play with my cock whenever you want? Just because I work for you? That's sexual harassment! How would you like it if I did it to YOU?"

With a sudden sharp yank, Jeff pulled Rachel's ankles to her ears! Her knees were now pointing towards the floor, but her pelvis was pointing at the ceiling. And with her panties still wrapped around her knees, her hairy vagina, engorged pussy lips and pink, round anus were now spread COMPLETELY wide open! He could see all of her most cherished, most private body parts! Everything!

"Nooo!!! Let me goooooo!!!! JEFF!! Don't look at me!! Not like -- like THIS!! NOOOO!!!"

But he didn't let her go. He reached down, ran his fingers through her thick, curly pubes, and GRABBED HER CLITTY!

"OH GOD!!! OH GOD!!! MY TENDER LITTLE CLITTY!!! JEFF!! NOOOOO!!! NOT MY LITTLE CLITTY!!!" she wailed.

Jeff shook her clitoris hard: "See? How do YOU like it when someone grabs YOUR genitals, Miss Queen?"

"OOOOOHHHHHH!!! PLEASE!!! S -- STOP!! I'LL DO ANYTHING!! PLEASE!!! J -- JEFF!! LET GO AND COVER ME UP!! YOU'RE GONNA MAKE ME --"

He shook even harder, sliding in a finger. She was so slippery! With his other hand, he pushed the tip of his pinky into her anal cavity...

"MY ASSHOLE!! MY ASS!! MY ASS!! OOOOH!! JEFF!!!! LET ME GO!!!! I'M ABOUT TO -- I MEAN, YOU -- YOU'RE MAKING ME --"

Grunt! Grunt! Grunt!

"OHHHH... I'M ABOUT TO CUUUU --"

But milliseconds before she could finish, Jeff released her from his grip and let her go. All at once. His orgasm-starved boss looked up at him with drool running down her chin.

"I'm disappointed in you, Miss Queen. First you danced around in the hotel lobby in your panties. Then you tricked me into sharing a room with you. Then you took advantage of me when I was sleeping. And now you're molesting my man-meat?! You're a sexual predator. For shame!"

And he stormed off to the bathroom.

(But once he was out-of-view, he started cracking up. This was going too perfect! He owed the hotel doctor big time! Jeff looked at the pills again: Vicodin, Percs... and this new extra-strength experimental Viagra that hadn't been FDA-approved yet. He read the side effects: Unusual dreams, bedwetting, mental slowness... and uncontrollable sexual urges!)

He marched back out again, this time with a towel wrapped around his hips.

Meanwhile, Rachel was still on the floor, scared out of her mind, looking like she was on the verge of tears:

"Jeff! Please -- I am so sorry! I -- I don't feel right... my head... I don't know what..."

He ignored her, walked over to the hotel phone and hit a button:

"Hello, operator? This is Jeff Jones in room 232. My wife had an 'accident' and wet the bed."

"Jeff!! No!! You -- you -- don't tell anyone! It was water!" Rachel cried. But Jeff paid her no heed:

"Yeah, that's right. We'll need a new mattress for sure -- she soaked all the way through. NO WAY am I gonna sleep on it. What? Yes. Where is she right now? Well, the floor. What? Oh, okay. No, that makes sense. Thanks for understanding."

Jeff put down the phone and spoke to his boss:

"Get your fat ass off the floor, Miss Queen. The hotel is gonna send us a new mattress and cleaning supplies. But they told me to keep you off the carpet. It's imported from Italy and they DO NOT want your disgusting piss and pussy-juice to get all over it."

The young employee pointed to the balcony.

"Go out there, Miss Queen, and strip! Right now! I'll hose you down!"

Rachel looked towards the balcony. It oversaw the busiest street in the city! And they were only on the second floor! Even though it was nighttime, it was still swarming with tourists. Anyone walking by could see her! Anyone!

"No, Jeff! NO!! Please! Don't make me get naked on the balcony!"

The young marketing director thought for a moment. Then he grabbed Miss Queen by the arm, opened the hotel door -- and pushed her out into the hallway.

Her loose-fitting (and pee-soaked) designer dress had fallen down to her bellybutton, giving anyone passing by an eyeful of her tiny tits... and her wet panties were still wrapped around her knees...

"STOP!! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! LET ME BACK INSIDE, YOU BASTARD!!!"

"The hallway floors are marble," explained Jeff. "This way you can't stain them -- and more importantly, this way the hotel can't bill me for the damages."

Rachel looked around the hallway, her stomach doing flip-flops. Waves of pure terror ran through her body. She could hear the elevator doors ringing and opening -- and the voices of men and women laughing, walking to and from their rooms. The crisp hotel air made her wet clothes feel cold and heavy...

"Now give me your dress so I can throw it in the shower!" demanded Jeff, impatiently holding out his hand.

"But --"

"The sooner you get out of your clothes, the faster I can throw 'em in the shower and let you back inside. So hurry up and strip! Unless you WANT to stand around the hallway, stinking like a urinal."

"Please! Jeff! L -- let me change in the bathroom! Please! I -- I beg you!!"

"No can do, Miss Queen. They told me on the phone not to let you on the carpet in your wet clothes. So strip!"

Rachel's eyes watered. She was about to cry. "But -- but..."

"But WHAT?!"

"I -- I don't want you to see what I really look like when I'm totally naked! PLEASE!! Jeff... don't strip me completely bare! Please! A woman needs to maintain a sense of mystery. Have pity on me. Leave me with my... my dignity!"

Jeff shrugged. "Suit yourself. But you hear those footsteps? I hear someone coming. Listen to the voices: I think it might be Genevieve Princess, your ex-employee!"

"Not Genevieve!" gasped Rachel.

"Yup, I forgot to tell you, but Miss Princess is next door to us. Small world, eh?"

Oh, HELL NO!! There was NO WAY she was going to let Genevieve Princess catch her in the hotel hallway, wearing a pee-soaked dress! It was bad enough that Genevieve had kidnapped her falsies -- but this...

NO!!

Rachel immediately started stripping in front of her 24-year-old underling. First she pushed her dress past her hips and down to the floor. Then she rolled her wet panties the rest of the way down her legs and stepped out. She looked him dead in the eye and waited.

The legendary Miss Queen was now completely naked. And Jeff just stood there with a goofy grin on his face, enjoying the sight!

She was as naked as the day she was born.

Sure, he had seen parts of her body before, especially while punishing her, but this was his first opportunity to see her as she really was. And she looked... well...

It was an "interesting" body, to say the least.

With her extremely flat chest, hairy muff and flabby potbelly, she certainly didn't resemble a model anymore. The pale outline of VERY conservative tanlines could be seen on her pink skin, and she had the posture of an immature little girl. She was shaped like a bowling pin. The transformation was remarkable! But even in her "reduced" form, there was still something about her that was VERY sexy and VERY fuckable.

Jeff picked up her clothes with a smile.

"Thanks, Miss Queen! I'll be right back."

He returned to the hotel room with her clothes -- and closed the door behind him!

Rachel Queen was stuck in the hallway, as naked as a jaybird! She could barely breathe! OMG! No! NO!! He... he TRICKED her!!

NOO!!!!

She banged on the door: "Jeff!! Let me in!! This isn't funny! JEFF!!!"

The footsteps and voices were growing louder... there wasn't much time!

"Jeff!! Open this door!! NOW!! PEOPLE are coming!!"

She was pounding her fists at the door with all her might -- almost to the point of hysterics! Getting caught NAKED IN PUBLIC... God... all her greatest fears were coming true...

"Oh. My. God. Is that... RACHEL QUEEN nude in the hallway?!"

Rachel's jaw dropped. Without even looking, she knew exactly who that was.

Genevieve Princess. Her ex-employee.

"It is! It IS Rachel Queen! In the flesh...literally!"

The pink-skinned CEO turned her head. Genevieve was walking her way -- and two Arab gentlemen were walking with her.

"Oh, I can't wait to introduce you to my old boss, Rachel Queen! Not only does she own her own company, but she's also a VERY busty swimsuit model! She's FAMOUS for her huge tits and PERFECT body!"

Rachel was beside herself! This... can't be... happening!

There was nowhere to shield her body... nowhere at all. No plants or ashtrays -- NOTHING. And the footsteps were getting louder!

Not knowing what else to do, Rachel pressed the front of her body to the wall right by her hotel door, which, of course, exposed her plump buns to all the guests in the hallway. It was less than ideal (to say the least!), but at least this way, her hairy pussy and embarrassing little titties would be hidden...

Rachel felt a woman's breath on her neck:

"Hello, Miss Queen. So lovely to bump into you. You're looking awfully... cheeky tonight!"

"H -- hello, Genevieve!" Rachel croaked.

One of the gentlemen said something in Arabic.

"Miss Queen," Genevieve happily asked, "my friend Akbar wanted to know why your tushy is so red. Were you punished for being... bad?"

God! She had forgotten about her spanking! Mortified, Rachel pressed as close to the wall as humanly possible. Her pussy was now pushed directly against the engraved lettering that listed the room number.

"N -- no! Nobody spanked me! That -- that's crazy! Now GO AWAY!!!"

Genevieve sniffed the air.

"What is that yucky smell, Miss Queen? It smells like... like..."

"Piss!" shouted one of the Arabs, who clearly knew more English than he was letting on.

Genevieve wrinkled her nose: "It DOES smell like piss! Eww! Miss Queen! Did you... did you PISS yourself?! Oh, my!! Is that why your husband threw you out of the room? Are you... a bedwetter?"

"NO!! It's not true!! I -- I just lost my key, that's all!!"

There were now tears rolling down Rachel's face. She didn't want to cry -- especially not in front of Genevieve -- but she had reached the point of no return. Her knees were shaking. She pressed with all her might against the wall -- deathly afraid of exposing her front.

"Are you sure, Miss Queen? Or do we need to investigate more closely?"

"NOO!! YOU CUNT!! GET AWAY FROM ME!!"

Then -- to her relief -- her hotel door swung open. Jeff had obviously showered (and was looking as handsome as ever in jeans).

"Miss Queen!" he called out. "Okay, come back inside. Let's get you cleaned up."

"Cleaned up?" asked Genevieve. "From what? Why does she need to be cleaned up?"

"Well, she had an accid --"

"JEFF!! DON'T SAY IT!!"

The young marketing director laughed.

"Fine, I won't embarrass you. Just hurry up and get inside. I'm tired."

But Rachel didn't move.

"Miss Queen?" he called again, growing impatient. "Did you hear me? Get inside. Don't make me spank your bare butt again."

"Aha!" crowed Genevieve. "I knew this was the ass of a freshly-spanked girl! You sure worked her over!"

But Rachel still didn't move.

Jeff stepped outside: "Miss Queen? Why are you still standing naked out here?"

"Because... I -- I'm stuck!" she squeaked.

"How can you be stuck? You're not wearing anything."

"My... my pubes are stuck in the sign!" she squeaked. "I can't move!"

Everyone was now doubled over in laughter -- including the other hotel guests walking by.

"This -- this isn't funny!! Help me!!"

"Good Lord, Miss Queen!" teased Genevieve. "Your PUBES are stuck in the sign?! How freaking hairy ARE you?!"

"Shuddup!!" cried Rachel. "Your tits have more plastic than Mel Kiper's hair! So you can just SHUDDUP!"

Genevieve glowered in rage...

"Help me, Jeff!" Rachel yelled. "Cut me free! Don't you have any scissors, or something?"

"Scissors? Of course not. They won't let you on a plane with scissors."

"Wait," said Genevieve. "I have an idea."

The ex-employee retreated to her nearby room. Ten seconds later, she returned... holding a razor.

"What... what are you doing?!" Rachel squealed.

Genevieve bent down to examine her ex-boss' crotch. She lifted the razor -- and started shaving her long, thick, curly bush... Swipe! Swipe!

"You can thank me later, Miss Queen! Besides, your garden was overdue for a mowing. Yuck! It STINKS down here! Abdul, Akbar -- come look at this thing!"

To the CEO's horror, both Arab gentlemen knelt down to study her pussy. They leaned in and took a whiff --

"Piss!" an Arab declared. "She piss herself! I smell it! And look at all that hair! I can't even see her hole!"

"Noooooo!!! Stop looking!! And I DID NOT PEE ON MYSELF!!" she lied, stomping her foot for added emphasis.

"Don't move your legs like that, Miss Queen," Genevieve chided. "I might accidentally cut one of your plump pussy lips. Yikes! I've never seen pussy lips stretched out like this! Were you just PLAYING with yourself... after showing off your nice, big tits and firm six-pack in the lobby? Ha!"

Rachel Queen was now awash with a sensation of such intense, excruciating humiliation, the word had lost all meaning. I mean... just look at her:

The powerful CEO and supermodel of Queen Swimwear had undergone a startling metamorphosis. She was now a red-bottomed girl in her birthday suit, pinned to the hotel wall, stinking of piss. And her "model" body had been revealed to be woefully ordinary. "Earthy" might be a kind way to put it. Her bruised and misshapen butt cheeks shook like stereo speakers.

And her ex-employee was gleefully shaving her pussy in the hallway while everyone stared...

"Shucks!" exclaimed Genevieve. "I got as far as I could from this side... but couldn't get close enough to free you. Guess I'll have to begin again from the other side! Hee hee!"

"Oh, no!" cried Rachel, stomping her foot again. "Stop, Genevieve! You're shaving all my hair! Stop! Don't -- don't leave me bald! Please! You - you'll ruin everything!"

"What's so bad about being bald?"

"I don't wanna be bald!" she cried, now bawling like a baby. Her nose was running as well. "With m -- my small boobies, if I -- if I..."

"If you WHAT, Miss Queen," asked the busty ex-employee, still shaving away.

"If I don't have any pubic hair, I look like a... a..."

"Like a WHAT, Miss Queen?"

"Like... like a fat little naked girl!" she bawled.

Genevieve snorted. Both Arab men were doubled over again. Even Jeff was laughing.

"Then I've got good news and bad news for you, Miss Queen," she said. "The good news is... you are now FREE!"

With one final swipe of the razor, Rachel separated from the sign! She had escaped! Thank GOD!! She stumbled away from the wall and into the hallway...

"The bad news is... Miss Queen, I hate to break it to you: You now look like a fat little naked girl!"

Rachel was still in a daze, but she saw Jeff, Genevieve and the two Arab gentlemen staring intently at her. She looked down:

All of her pubic hair had been shaved away. All of it! She was as bald as a cue ball. But instead of looking prepubescent, this was unquestionably the pussy of an older, mature woman: Her pussy lips drooped down, and her plump clitty stuck out like a pinky.

But the rest of her?

Her belly wobbled as she stumbled. Her pointy little nips shook like the needle of a seismograph. She staggered by a mirror -- and started to cry even harder.

"Nooooo!" she sobbed. "What have you done to me?!"

Just then the hotel crew walked by, carrying a new mattress. The leader pointed at the flat-chested girl with the hairless snatch.

"Sir? Is this little girl the bedwetter?"

Genevieve roared with laughter!

"You DID piss yourself! This is too much! Bwahahahahaha!!"

Rachel just stood there, helpless and naked in the hallway. Families, teens and businesspeople were walking by... she couldn't take it anymore:

"Wah! Wah!" she cried. "Wah! Wah! I wanna go home! Wah!"

"Okay, we changed the mattress and cleaned the carpet," said the leader of the hotel's maintenance crew to Jeff. "Just make sure your little girl doesn't have another accident. In fact, let me give you this..."

He handed Jeff a diaper.

"NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!" screamed Rachel, her hands over her mouth.

It... it couldn't be! Her nightmare!

It was all coming true...!

END OF PART THREE