Business Trip From Hell Pt.2 by John Knuckles.

Just found this at the bottom of the tank. I'm nearing the end, maybe another 2 - 3 months or so.

http://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1988069-Business-Trip-from-Hell-Part-Two 

Jeff Jones triumphantly sneered at his haughty boss, Miss Rachel Queen, as she sulked in the corner of the hotel lobby.  Normally a take-charge tyrant who ruled with an iron fist, she cowered by the long row of elevators, standing all alone.

Her head shook in disbelief.  WTF!  How... how did this happen?!

Still, she looked beautiful: Her designer dress wrapped tightly around her long legs, and her large breasts cast an impressive shadow.  But although she was beautiful, her discomfort was self-evident: Her knees knocked together and her light-green eyes darted about nervously...

Back in New York City, she was single and fabulous -- the socialite CEO of Queen Swimsuits.  Her flawless face and gorgeous body were seen on billboards and magazine ads, showing-off her company's sexiest bikinis and most glamorous one-pieces.  But here, thousands of miles from her Manhattan high-rise, she was the "wife" and "property" of her junior employee.  And worse, in this patriarchal Kingdom, it was socially expected for men to exert physical dominance over their wives!

Now she had to share a bed with him...

"C'mon, pookie," teased Jeff.  "Be a good wife and don't stand so far away from your husband!  Get your cute tush over here and give Daddy some sugar!  Ha!  Oh, if the guys at work could see this!"

Rachel shot a look of pure hate and thought quickly.  Her nostrils flared and her hands formed into fists.  Come give DADDY SOME SUGAR?!  That snide little punk!  How dare he...

"Didn't you hear me, pookie?" Jeff called again.  He was clearly having the time of his life, verbally abusing his hard-assed boss.  Well, fuck her!  He had just hand-delivered her the biggest account in Queen Swimsuits history.  "Your husband is calling you.  Chop, chop!  Don't make me pull down your panties and give you a spanking in the lobby!"

Three Arab businessmen walking by overheard her "husband" and started snickering.

Ooh... he was SO dead!!

Miss Queen stood up straight, smoothing down her sleek dress.  Her eyes narrowed and she snarled like a tigress.  SPANK me?!  As if!  The taunt activated her adrenaline gland, spiking it into overdrive.  SPANK me?!  She hadn't built a successful swimwear company from the ground-up by being passive -- or by putting up with bullshit threats!  She was Rachel Queen, dammit.  HE worked for HER.  And who the hell was HE anyway?  Just another pretty boy.  Just another junior employee.  Just another desperate horndog who'd NEVER get in the pants of the great Rachel Queen.

Fuck Jeff Jones!

It was time to put him in his place:

With her normal, confident stride, she strutted over to Jeff, her hips swaying seductively -- and SLAPPED him in the face!  Shocked, the younger man stumbled backwards and held his cheek.

"Ow!  You -- you BITCH!"

Miss Queen's blood red lips formed a wide smile and she cackled in delight.  The older woman proudly stood with her large chest puffed out.  "Now that I have your attention, Mr. Jones, let's get a few things clear: My name is not 'bitch' or 'pookie,' and you ARE NOT my husband.  Are we clear, Mr. Jones -- or do I need to slap some more sense into you?"

Jeff rubbed his face.  He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could --

"We have to share a hotel room tonight, Mr. Jones.  Here are my ground rules: One, I sleep on the bed; you sleep on the floor.  Two, I have, er... a personal morning routine, one that I will not discuss with you, and I will therefore expect you to be showered and out of the room by 6:30 a.m.  You will not return until 8:30 a.m. under ANY circumstances.  Three, you will tell NO ONE about this -- or I will fire you on the spot!"

The younger man's eyes watered.  That bitch!!  What the fuck?!  He cursed her again (under his breath).  How did she turned the tables so fast?  ...Dammit!  He was a FOOL for underestimating her!  Well, he wasn't going to make that mistake again...

"I -- I was just fooling around after a long-ass flight.  Jeez...  You didn't need to slap me,  Miss Queen!"

"Aw, is widdle Jeffrey gonna cry?" she mocked, pretending to rub away a tear.

"No, b -- b -- but you'll be crying when I beat your fat ass bright red!" he retorted, hoping to intimidate her.  "Don't forget, in this Kingdom, a husband is allowed to use corporal punishment on his wife!"

Rachel shrugged indifferently, looking like a woman who had figured everything out:

"Mr. Jones, if you so much lay a FINGER on me, and I'll file a civil lawsuit against you for sexual assault.  I'll go on all the talk shows, telling everyone what a horrible sexual predator you are.  Your reputation wil be ruined.  You'll never work again in this industry, I promise you."

"Lawsuits!" he cried.  "What the fuck -- we were just fooling around on a business trip.  Honest, I was just joking!  How -- how could you threaten to fire me, Miss Queen?  I just delivered you the biggest account of your life!  Tens of millions of dollars!  I -- I just made you a mint!"

"Right.  So after tomorrow... I don't need you anymore, do I?"

"But -"

"And if I were to hold-up your commission by filing a complaint, there wouldn't be much you could do, is there?"

Her "husband" gasped.

"Wait... wait a minute!  What are you trying to say, Miss Queen?  The Crown Prince of Abu Dhabraii was my personal contact!  I'm the one who introduced you to him!  And -- and you know I just bought a new apartment in Manhattan.  I still owe the deposit!  I need this commission!"

Now it was Rachel who was smirking.

"Mr. Jones, we can do this two ways: One, if you so much as LOOK at me funny, I will fire you, withhold your commission, file a civil lawsuit and move forward with an H.R. complaint against you that will destroy your career forever."

"An H.R. complaint against me?  For what?!  All the other girls LOVE me and you know it, Miss Queen.  You're the only one who has a problem!"

Rachel poked her finger at Jeff's nose and arched her back.  Her large tits pointed firmly at his face.

"For sexual harassment, Mr. Jones.  I know you were the one who started those stupid rumors about me being a closet BDSM freak -- that I spend my weekends getting paddled and punished by my underlings.  As if!  Don't even try to deny it, you little shit!"

Jeff didn't even try to protest.

"Fine.  You got me.  Fine.  Bravo.  Now... what's the second way we can do this?"

"Simple, Mr. Jones.  You stay on your best behavior on this trip, do exactly what I tell you like an obedient little slave, and I won't tie-up your six-figure commission check.  In fact, I'll give you two months pay and let you resign for 'personal reasons' as not to humiliate you.  I might even give you a letter of recommendation.  After all, a recommendation from ME carries a lot of weight in this industry!  Now, do we have have a deal?"

Jeff sighed.  He knew he had been out-dueled...

"Okay, Miss Queen.  Fine...  We have a deal."

He held out his hand for her to shake.

She reached forward.

At that exact moment, the elevator doors opened and three little kids zipped by.  They sprinted so fast -- Rachel stumbled backwards to avoid being run over...

...but she tripped and fell, landing awkwardly on the hard lobby floor!

"Ow!!" she cried.  "My -- my spine!"

Jeff looked down.  His tough-talking boss was sprawled like a ragdoll, laying flat on her back.  One of her heels had flown off her foot, landing on the other side of the hall.  Miss Queen looked so... vulnerable like this.  Her dress had climbed halfway past her upper thighs, nearly revealing a glimpse of her panties when she kicked her legs in agony.  Her left shoulder strap had snapped in half.

"I -- I can't move my arms!" Rachel screamed.

A crowd of tourists began to gather around.  Jeff thought for a moment.  And then he smiled:

"Help!" he yelled.  "My WIFE is hurt!  Is there a doctor in the house?"

A Middle Eastern-looking gentleman walked to them.  "I'm the hotel doctor.  How may I assist, sir?"

"Help me up!" Rachel screamed, struggling to get to her feet.

Jeff reached down to his fallen boss, reaching to her with both hands.  Grateful, she moved her wrists in his direction and waited for his help...

But instead, he grabbed her dress from the bottom hem -- and began peeling it off her body!  Right there -- in the hotel lobby, with a crowd of strangers staring!  He was PULLING UP her dress!

"Jeff!!  Stop!!  Wh -- what are you doing?!"

"I'm sorry, pookie," he answered with a mischievous grin.  "But that was a nasty spill you took.  You need to let your husband inspect your body and make sure nothing is broken.  So let's take a peak at all your girly bits... Ooh, Miss Queen, nice legs!"

Two-thirds of her meaty thighs (with a slight ripple of cellulite on the inside) were now in full view.  As the hotel guests were entering and exiting the elevators, they couldn't help but gaze at the disheveled woman on the floor.

"STOP!" she cried.  "No!  Put my dress down!  Jeff!  People are staring!"

He didn't stop.  In fact, he raised it even higher:

With one hard tug, her beautiful dress was quickly lifted completely past her thighs -- and racing fast for her hips!

"I don't see any bruises yet, Doc," Jeff calmly observed.  "But we should be thorough."

He tugged harder.  Rachel felt her dress sliding under her butt -- and then pulled free!

"No!!  Jeff!!  OH GOD!!"

Her dress was now pulled to her belly button, FULLY revealing her bright red panties (with an adorable Hello Kitty image in the middle!) to the gaggle of onlookers in the hotel lobby.  And what a sight to behold:  A few long dark pubic hairs jutted out of the sides...

"Don't argue with your husband, pookie.  We need to check you for injuries.  And then we need to buy some razor blades.  Hello Kitty?  Pookie, your Kitty needs a shave!  Nobody wants a long-haired pussy!"

"STOP!!  You --"

But instead he pulled even harder:

He had now pulled the dress up nearly to her arm pits!  Her big TITS were just seconds away from being fully unveiled!

Rachel screamed.  She was getting stripped naked in the hotel lobby by her snot-nosed underling, and now her entire belly was exposed to a room full of slack-jawed strangers!  But if her tits were exposed... OH GOD!

Miss Queen was a very sexy woman.  At least, she was marketed that way.  Photoshopped images of her modeling her company's adult swimwear was the cornerstone of their advertising campaign.  That's what made Queen Swimwear so special: It was the only national brand that was personally modeled by the company's CEO.  Miss Queen wasn't just the public FACE of Queen Swimwear; she was the public BODY.

All the girls wanted to look as good as Rachel Queen!

But without spray tans and Photoshop, it was painfully obvious that the beautiful body of Miss Queen was, well... plumper than she looked when clothed: Her tummy rolls hung over the top of her panties' waistband, showing off a pale potbelly.  She must've regained use of her arms in a hurry (Hallelujah!), because she was suddenly fighting like crazy to keep her breasts covered; her eyes were on the verge of tears, but she still battled with all her might!  Alas, it was obvious that her strength had been sapped: The fabric was quickly slipping away...

"Jeff!!  Please!!  Don't take my clothes!" she squealed.

"Sorry, pookie," Jeff answered.  By this time a large crowd of hotel guests had formed a circle around them.  "I know this is a little embarrassing, but we need to look you over for injuries.  Ain't that right, Doc?"

'Yes, that's true," the doctor replied.  "After all, a husband knows what's best for his property."

"But -- but I'm not wearing a bra!  Please!  STOP!"

Instead of stopping, Jeff pulled even harder:

And inch by inch, her dress was slipping past her chest!

Rachel was fighting like mad to keep her breasts covered.  Her legs were kicking and thrashing angrily, and her bright red Hello Kitty panties were getting increasingly bunched-up around her crotch.  An outline of a camel toe began to emerge in the base of her undies... and the more they bunched around her crotch, the more of her gnarly pubic hairs could be seen around her hips.

Then -- without warning -- a silicon bag fell from the top of her dress, tumbling down her side like a gelatinous blob, where it landed on the floor with a loud PLOP!

It was a very large falsie.  At least five pounds of jiggly, bouncy silicon.

The audience gasped.

"Noooooo!"

Beet-red, Rachel hastily grabbed the baggie and stuffed it back up her dress!

This... can't... be... happening...!

Her legs were still kicking and thrashing, but now there were tears rolling down her face.  Her secret shame!  NO!!  NO, NO, NO!!!  One arm was desperately clinging to her chest, refusing to let her dress slip past her breasts.  Anything but that!  She couldn't bear it!

Her other hand was frantically trying to reinsert the silicon baggie...

Jeff started pulling even harder.

"STOP!!  STOP!!  Don't leave me topless, Jeff!  Please!  I -- I beg you!  I'll do anything!  Please!  Don't expose my -- my secret!"

A cruel smile spread across Jeff's face.  So the rumors were true: The great and powerful Miss Rachel Queen DID stuff her bra.  For many years, there had been whispers in the industry that Rachel would, ahem, "artificially enhance" her bust during modeling shoots, but Jeff assumed it was just jealous innuendo.  But by the size of that falsie, she must be almost completely titless!  Like, NOTHING up top!  And she was always so vain about her figure, wearing clothes that showed-off her big, firm chest...

This was too good to be true!

"Doc, examine her closely," he directed, still holding onto Rachel's dress, but no longer pulling.  He was now content to leave the humiliated CEO dangling in a half-naked stalemate: Her red Hello Kitty panties were getting increasingly wedged up her pussy lips, revealing a surrounding forest of dark pubes.  He tummy rolls jiggled like jello as she hyperventilated, but still, she refused to surrender.  She was pounding her fists and kicking her legs, unwilling to submit.  It was almost admirable how determined she was to keep her "secret" breasts hidden from her crowd of admirers.

The doctor smiled.  "She is adorable, sir.  Despite certain, er... shortcomings," he added, motioning towards her chest.  "But we really should check her stomach, sides and upper torso.  I doubt very much if she has hurt her spine, but I suspect that her ribs might be bruised."

"My ribs are fine!!  Just lemme GO!!"

But the doctor ignored her and knelt down, placing his calloused hand on her bare hip, gripping her like a basketball.  Goosebumps shot up and down her body.  His other hand was lightly tracing her thigh...

"Don't fight me, madam.  Let me examine you."

With a happy smile, the doctor let his fingers glide along the contour of her inner-thigh, atop her panties, over her pubic mound and then up to her stomach, where he seized and gripped her belly rolls.

As the audience watched with keen interest, the doctor shook her tummy fat, singing: "Jelly-belly!  Jelly-belly!"

"Stop!!  Stop that!"

"So sorry," he apologized.  "In my country, we shake a jelly-belly for good luck.  And your belly has a lot of jelly!"

Jeff doubled over with laughter, but the crowd of rubber-neckers murmured in agreement.  In fact, two of the little kids who tripped her ran up and gave her jelly-belly a shake!

"Hey!!  You -- you gaddamn BRATS!!" she cried, futilely kicking her feet at them.  Oh, the indignity of it all!

The doctor's hand then journeyed to the top of her panties.  He inserted one finger inside her waistline and slowly started pulling her panties open...

Rachel's jaw dropped.  No... he COULDN'T!  But as he kept pulling, she could feel the cool air blowing down on her hot, steamy pussy.  And it felt... good.

"Oh!" exclaimed the doctor, gazing inside her undies.  "That's a lot of hair.  Take a peak," he recommended to Jeff.  "She's a regular Hairy Mary!"

Jeff peered over to take a look at her snatch.  "Wow, pookie.  It looks like you tried to smuggle a ball of yarn past customs!  You're quite the furball."

The lobby echoed with laughter.

Rachel wanted to die!  NO!!  Jeffrey Jones, the boy-faced CREEP from the office, had just gotten a free view of her pussy!  Her PUSSY!  Her most intimate, private body part!    KILL ME!!  Oh, Jesus... she'd NEVER live this down!

The fiery CEO fought with all her might -- summoning every ounce of strength she had left -- FINALLY pulling her dress free from her subordinate's hands.  There!  Still on her back, she pushed away the doctor; her panties snapped back sharply, exposing her left pussy lip to the hotel guests.  Miss Queen paid no heed to her undies, however, focusing instead on pulling down her dress until it fully re-covered her stomach, hips and her thighs.

"You bastards!" she seethed.  "You'll PAY for this!"  If looks could kill, Jeff and the doctor would be corpses!

With tears running down her cheeks, she gallantly tried to put all her "parts" back in place.  But despite her improv handiwork, one of her boobs looked misaligned... almost like the nipple was pointing at her armpit.

Jeff turned to the crowd of onlookers and cleared his throat:

"It's okay," he explained in a loud voice.  "My wife, Rachel Queen, stuffs her bra."

"What?!" gasped Rachel.  "You... you..."

"She's embarrassed by how small her tits are," Jeff continued.  "That's why she doesn't want anyone to see her naked."

"Jeff!" she shrieked.  "Sh -- shut up!"

Instead, her junior employee pled to the onlookers: "Guys, you won't make fun of her for having itsy-bitsy boobies, will you?  We need to make sure her ribs aren't broken.  So try not to stare too much."

"It's a medical emergency," added the doctor.

"We won't!" agreed the crowd.

Rachel stumbled to her feet.  By now she was barefoot and disheveled, with her mascara streaking and her lipstick smudged.  There was a crazed look in her eyes...

"Nobody but NOBODY is going to see my breasts, I promise you that!" she spat at the two, holding her chest in her arms.  "Get away from me!"

She turned to the crowd: "The peep show is OVER, you perverts!  Go back to your boring lives!  Do you hear me?  GO AWAY!"

"But pookie, you're hurt," Jeff tried to reason.  He put his hand on the small of her back.

Miss Queen screamed in pain, almost dropping back to her knees.

"I really need to examine you, madam," said the doctor.  "Please take off your dress."

"No!" she insisted, pouting.  She stomped her foot for emphasis.  "Just... just give me the stupid pain pills!  I'll see a REAL doctor when I get back to New York.  Please!"  She wiped a tear from her eyes.

The doctor turned to Jeff.

"I can write her a few prescriptions, if you like.  But we need to do everything we can to protect her back from unnecessary stress."

"Perhaps I can help," said a new voice.

Rachel squinted through her tears to see who it was.  It.... it was that skank -- the one from the concierge line -- the one Jeff was flirting with.  What did SHE want?!

"I have a medical background," the voice added.  "I used to go to med school in Brooklyn.  Right until I got my big break in the sportswear industry."

The sportswear industry!

Rachel rubbed her eyes with her palms, ruining her mascara completely; it looked like she had given herself a raccoon mask.  Who WAS that?

She squinted again -- and then her stomach dropped.

No...

NO!!

OH GOD NO!!

Miss Queen hadn't recognized her right away; it had been a few years and the former brunette was now a platinum blonde.  But it was her.

Genevieve Princess.

Rachel's old assistant.

"Hello, Miss Queen," cooed Genevieve.  "Fancy seeing you here.  You're looking as... well, lovely as ever.  I looove your new look!"

"G -- Genevieve!  What are you doing here?!"

"I'm with Speed Demon Swimwear now," the blonde replied.  "We received word that the Crown Prince of Abu Dhabraii was about to make a terrible mistake and sign a contract with an inferor line of swimsuits.  I've come to put a stop to it."

Feeling horribly self conscious, Rachel covered her chest with her arms and squeezed her thighs together.

"How... how long were you watching?" gasped the older woman.

"Long enough.  And Miss Queen: Your left tit is crooked."

Jeff and the doctor started snickering.  Rachel turned fire engine-red and hid her tits in her hands.  Oh, no!  Her head was spinning: Genevieve had discovered her secret!  She... she knew!  She KNEW!

And if anyone had a motive to get even with Rachel Queen, it was Genevieve Princess:

Several years ago, when Rachel was still struggling to launch her company, she received an unsolicited resume and fashion portfolio from a medical student.  The patterns and concept was intriguing: a line of swimsuits that were medically-designed to alleviate back pain.  It was ingenious.  Rachel instantly knew it was a game-changer.

She hired Genevieve for pennies on the dollar -- and slyly had her sign over the rights to her designs.

It was a phenomenal success.  But when it was time to choose a model, Genevieve BEGGED to do it herself:

"Please, Miss Queen!  It was my idea, after all.  And being a model has always been my dream!"

"Forget it, Genevieve.  No offense, but you just don't have the body to pull it off.  I mean... LOOK at you!  Mousy brown hair, teeny little titties and a beer belly.  You could be cute -- if you got a boob-job and hit the gym.  Sorry, sweetheart.  You're just not model material."

Rachel modeled the line herself.  The campaign -- with the voluptuous Miss Queen teasing America with her giant tits and perfectly-fit body -- was a smash-hit.  Suddenly, she was a global brand and an international sex symbol.

Rachel fired Genevieve the following day.  And hadn't seen her since.

Not until today.

She looked so different!  Her mousy hair was now blonde; by the looks of her cleavage, she had also gotten that boob-job.

Rachel looked down at her own chest... and nearly burst into loud sobs!

"Genevieve, please -- I -- I --"

Her ex-employee winked at her.

"Don't be silly, Miss Queen.  You and me... all that stuff happened years ago.  I hate to see you in pain like this, so let me help.  The first thing we need to do is remove any unnecessary pressure on your back.  Miss Queen, hand me your falsies!"

"WHAT?!" yelled Rachel, flabbergasted.

"You heard me," said Genevieve.  "Those big, heavy silicon bags you've stuffed in your top.  The WORST thing you could do for your back is to walk around with an extra 10 pounds on your chest."

"Madam, this is quite true," nodded the doctor.  "I want your back as stress-free as possible.  That is the doctor's orders."

"You heard 'em," snapped Jeff.  "Hand over your fun-bags to the blonde girl, pookie."

"NO!!  I --"

"Do it," he demanded, "Hurry up!  It's late. I wanna go to bed... with you."

Rachel desperately wanted to escape these prying eyes.  The solitude -- and privacy -- of a hotel room sounded wonderful (even with Jeff).  But then a terrible thought entered her mind:

"If I give my -- my falsies to her... um, I mean... my clothes... tomorrow... I... I..."

"What are you yapping about, pookie?"

"My clothes won't fit!  These falsies... they're the only pair I brought on this trip!  I can't face the Crown Prince of Abu Dhabraii without my... um, you-know-what's!!"

Genevieve snorted, scarcely able to stop laughing.  But Jeff had a serious look on his face:

"Pookie, what kind of husband would I be if I placed more importance on your appearance than your health?  Your health comes first, baby cakes.  Now hand over your breasts to this pretty lady for safekeeping."

"Aww, what a nice guy!" exclaimed an old woman in the crowd.  "He's a sweetie.  You should do what he says."

"But -- but -- but --"

"No buts!" shouted back the old woman.  "Do what your nice, handsome husband says, and hand the blonde girl your tits!"

The still-growing crowd murmured in agreement.

Jeff leaned close to her and placed his hand on her ass, seizing it firmly.  He rubbed in a wide circle...

"Yes, pookie," he growled.  "Do it... or I swear to God, I'll strip you naked and spank your bare ass in the middle of the lobby.  Now DO IT!"

Rachel closed her eyes and imagined how humiliating it would be: Her now-gorgeous ex-employee Genevieve looking down at her... getting to see the great Rachel Queen humbled before hundreds of prying eyes... her clothes removed... her flat tits and hairy beaver exposed... her naked body revealed in all its glory -- as she gets SPANKED ON THE ASS by her 20-something-year-old subordinate!

Oh my...

The CEO of Queen Swimsuits gulped.  The throngs of onlookers huddled closer, to see what she would do...

Trying her hardest to choke back her tears, Rachel reached inside the top of her beautiful designer dress.  Her "breasts" jostled around beneath the fabric, heaving like a woman jogging.  Then out popped one silicon bag -- and then the other.

The audience oohed and awed!

Her top now baggy and loose, Rachel turned to Genevieve.  Her body burned with the most soul-crushing, ego-destroying SHAME she had ever known.

She turned to her ex-employee, too mortified to make eye contact... and literally handed over her tits!

Genevieve held one baggie in each hand.  With a loud cheer, she held the falsies up high, for everyone to see.

"Don't worry, Miss Queen," the younger blonde teased.  "I'll hold onto these make-believe-boobies for you.  When your back is feeling better, let me know and I'll give back your womanhood!"

This was too much!  Rachel exploded in rage:

"My womanhood?!  Excuse me?!  I'm STILL more of a woman than you'll EVER be, little girl!!  And don't you forget it!"

She stomped her foot.

Then, all at once, her now-loose-fitting dress dropped down to her waist.

Whoosh!

Miss Queen's TINY TITS were completely exposed!

She had no breast tissue to speak of.  Not really. Just a pair of round, pink nipples in the middle of her chest.  And maybe it was cold, because her nipples were as hard as rocks!

Genevieve pointed and laughed.  Cameras and cell phones were flashing like a disco ball.

"You're calling ME a little girl?!  Ha!  All you have are a pair of mosquito bites!  The famous Miss Queen has the tits of an 11-year-old!  Ha!"

"Mommy?" called out a small boy.  "Why didn't that woman get any big girl boobies?"

"Hush, Timmy!" the mother reprimanded.  "I'm sure that flat-chested woman feels bad enough without you pointing at her."

"Holy shit!" giggled Jeff.  "She has nothing!  She's as flat as a table!  And THIS is what our company's swimsuit model really looks like?  Christ, we're doomed!"

Rachel was frozen with fear.  She just stood there, her mouth agape, her tiny titties poking in the cool air.  It seemed like everything was moving in slow motion.  All those faces, laughing and pointing at her... laughing at her small little boobies.  God!!  The same boobies she always kept hidden from EVERYONE were now part of the lobby scenery.  Maids, guests and business execs were walking by.  Worst of all, the more embarrassed she'd get, the more her nipples hardened.

By now they were diamonds.

Was this REALLY happening...???

Then... she sneezed:

KERCHEW!!

And her dress slid off her waist and onto the floor, landing by her bare feet.

Just like that.

Miss Rachel Queen was wearing her red Hello Kitty undies -- and absolutely nothing else -- in the middle of the hotel lobby.

"Ha ha!" giggled Timmy.  "I see her panties!  She has a PUSSY on her panties, Mommy!  Meow!"

The laughter was deafening.

Rachel was in a state of shock.  Everywhere she looked, someone was either pointing at her -- or filming and recording her topless body!  In all her life, she had NEVER been so exposed.  She was shaking -- which was making her engorged nipples bob up and down.  And by now her panties were stuck half inside her pussy lips, giving her something far worse than just a camel toe for all to see.

A Japanese tourist ran up to take a picture with her.  With an oblivious smile, he gave the camera a thumbs-up, then turned around and shook her stomach!

"Ahso.  Jerry-berry!  Jerry-berry!"

Then he bowed.

"NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!"

She blacked out.

Rachel awoke in her hotel room.  She was laying on her back, gazing at the ceiling.  She turned her head and saw Jeff Jones with a handful of pill bottles.

Then a HORRIBLE thought crossed her mind -- and in a panic, she looked down and checked her body:

Phew!  She was fully clothed.  Maybe it was all just a nightmare...

Jeff noticed she was stirring.

"You wakeup yet, pookie?  Good.  You poor thing, you pased out earlier.  I'm glad you're feeling better.  The nice hotel doctor left some meds for you.  Now get some more rest.  We have a big day tomorrow -- and I'll be damned if well let Genevieve Princess steal my commission!"

Rachel closed her eyes, too exhausted to think...

END OF PART TWO

The Greatest Humiliation Story Ch. 01 by John Knuckles

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Business Trip from Hell (Part Four) by John Knuckles

Almost done with John Knuckles appreciation here. Somebody asked for this part, so here it is.

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The CEO is almost at her breaking point, but refuses to surrender to her tormentors.

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Rachel Queen only slept in the finest lingerie. There wasn't a nightie in her closet that cost less than $2,500.

The top French designers eagerly sent her their latest lingerie, typically months before their naughtiest new designs debuted on the runways of Paris, London and New York City. Louis Frey Vandurant was her favorite; he personally offered Rachel his sexiest new robes, nighties and jammies (plus holiday invitations to his castle in Loire). The lingerie he designed was obscenely glorious: Bright, vibrant colors, erotic cuts and composed of the most luxurious fabrics available. (Then, under an assumed name, Rachel shipped her new nighties to a tailor in Trenton to have her falsies permanently sewed-in; after all, if another 9/11 were to happen in the wee hours of the evening, she certainly didn't want to be caught in, ahem, her "diminished" natural state!) Sometimes, when she was alone in her apartment at night, she'd slip on her leather boots and strut in front of her bedroom mirror in her skimpiest Vandurant nighties! The thought of how AMAZING she looked made the CEO smile...

That's what made her current predicament so dehumanizing:

She was under the covers, topless, snuggling in bed with her much-younger junior employee. Her falsies had been taken away... along with her slinky designer dress and undies.

And because of her earlier "accident" when she wet the sheets(!) like a bad widdle baby, she was now wearing nothing but a large, puffy diaper. Not just any diaper, mind you: A diaper that had been secured with a "belt" of duct tape... to make sure she couldn't remove it on her own.

And it was a diaper that was far too puffy for her to... er... "scratch" the ungodly itch that radiated from her privates. She -- she couldn't even play with herself!

Rachel choked a sob and buried her face in her hands.

Jeff Jones, her 20-something employee, was sleeping contently with his arm around her, gripping her loose tummy-fat with his fingers. His semi-hard cock poked at her pampered ass and he rested his thigh on her hips. Still feeling the after-effects of the experimental Viagra he gave her, she tried a few times to pull his hands up towards her breasts. Rachel closed her eyes and imagined how GOOD his big, strong hands would feel on her naughty nipples... how HOT it would be to surrender her flesh, her sex and her soul to him. The thought itself was BEYOND absurd: Rachel Queen -- the most ruthless CEO in the fashion industry -- in a diaper, getting sexually dominated by her junior executive! Nobody, and I mean NOBODY, would ever believe it!

But... that was part of the turn-on...

And now she couldn't help but fantasize about locking horns and fighting with her young, impudent challenger... slapping him in his handsome face... getting throttled in return... and VIOLENTLY thrown down on the hotel bed... oh, God! Jeff Jones peeling off his clothes while she watched... his cock growing hard... she struggles to get away, but he somehow catches her... he shreds her dress and strips her of her undies, licking his lips... he flips her and manhandles her... he wants her so badly, he's overcome with raw lust... Mmm!

Rachel's hips began to buck and her pussy moistened...

While her suboordinate softly snored, she grabbed his hands and raised them up her pale belly, towards the upper-half of her torso -- not all at once, but v-e-r-y, v-e-r-y slowly, as not to wake him. The older woman tried to breathe as quietly as she could -- no easy task, since her body YEARNED to moan...

She looked over at her young employee: Sigh... he was so fucking CUTE when he slept! The perfect plaything -- and his hands were so large and powerful! Rachel wet her mouth in anticipation: Any moment now his long fingers were going to SQUEEZE her aching tits! Oh, baby! But juuuuust before his fingertips reached her poor throbbing nipples, he grumbled unexpectedly and pushed his arm down, returning his fingers to her fleshy midsection.

"Sorry, pookie. I need something more substantial to hold on to than those jellybeans you call tits. Your beer belly will be just fine."

"Wh... what?!"

"Go back to sleep."

WHAT?!

Rachel fumed in despair at her powerless state: Damn that Jeff Jones! DAMN him! He now knew all her private, intimate details: The size of her underdeveloped breasts, the shape of her big ass -- hell, he even knew that her belly stuck out farther than her chest! DAMN HIM! After years of carefully protecting her image and wearing padded clothes, this little TWERP had systematically stripped her of her clothes, her falsies, her reputation, her dignity... even her pubic hair! All that would be horrible enough... but now he had actually done the impossible and stuck the great Rachel Queen in a... a DIAPER...!!

Rachel tried to go back to sleep... but it wasn't easy.

3:17 a.m.

"Jeff! Jeff! Wake up!"

"Wh... what's going on..." He squinted at the hotel clock.

"I -- I have to go to the bathroom."

"So?"

"My back hurts! I need help getting out of bed! Please! It - it's an emergency!"

Jeff grumbled and rolled over. "Use your diaper. Good night."

"JEFF! I will most certainly not use a diaper! Now help me this instant!"

Cursing under his breath, Jeff sat up and stumbled out of bed. Half asleep, he staggered over to his bitchy boss.

"What's taking you so long?" she snapped. "Help me up, stupid!"

She impatiently held out her arms -- like a noble women demanding to be served by her errand boy. But instead, he scooped her out of bed in his muscular arms and cradled her body high in the air -- like she was an itsy-bitsy kid! Rachel was suddenly at least six-feet above the floor, with her bare feet limply dangling to the sides.

She felt so small and childlike!

Jeff looked down at Rachel's girlish micro-nipples and leered at her like a cocky frat boy. Ha! Barely a pair of mosquito bites! Despite her D-cup reputation (and Photoshopped bikini pics that appeared in glamor magazines and billboards) her REAL bust was virtually nonexistent. Well, maybe some slight swelling in the region surrounding her dainty nips, but nothing more -- she wouldn't even qualify as an A-cup! The famously busty Miss Rachel Queen was as flat as an Asian preteen! Oh, if this ever got out...

She saw his eyes, squealed and quickly covered her tiny boobies.

"Excuse me! K -- keep your eyes on the hallway, Mr. Jones! Not my body!"

"...sorry, Miss Queen."

"Don't let it happen again, young man," she admonished. "How rude! Control your disgusting male urges!"

"...sorry, Miss Queen."

Rachel refused to drop the subject: "I am your boss and I demand to be treated with respect! You WILL NOT give into temptation and look at me like -- like THAT! What were you thinking?"

She hoped he would say that he was so turned-on by her beautiful body, he just couldn't resist. But instead:

"Oh, I'm simply trying to figure out why you're so difficult to carry, Miss Queen. Ugh!"

"Wh -- what the HELL do you mean by that?!"

"Sheesh.... You're so bottom-heavy! Like a weeble-wobble! How much do you weigh anyway?"

"N -- not that it's any of your business, but I only weigh 118 pounds! That's the weight listed on my official supermodel profile!"

She sucked-in her stomach and tried to look skinny.

"Well, there's a scale right here... I know I weigh 205 pounds. Let's do an experiment." He stepped on the scale.

"Stop that!" she shrieked. "G -- get off that! Now!"

Instead he looked down. "With you in my arms I weigh... let's see..."

"JEFF!"

"...346 pounds! You liar! Rachel Queen weighs... a whopping 141 pounds! Ha, ha! Mostly in her rump, since she's got nothing upstairs!" He playfully goosed her rear.

"F -- Fuck you! Asshole!! You -- you did it wrong!"

But her poker face gave her away. She was horrified! Tears were welling in her angry green eyes.

"You totally have the body of a weeble-wobble," he laughed, putting his boss back on her unsteady feet. "Fine, go do your pee-pee business. And congrats for not pissing all over the bed this time."

But she just stood there, still hiding her little nipples in her hands.

"J -- Jeff... can you please remove my diaper... sir?" She twiddled her fingers and looked up at him longingly. Her weight shifted from foot to foot.

"What was that, Miss Queen? I didn't hear you."

"I... I need you to change my diaper. Please! I -- I really need to go!" She stomped her little feet for added emphasis.

Miss Queen sounded so pathetic, begging for a diaper change! Jeff had to bite his tongue not to laugh.

"Are you SURE, Miss Queen? They gave you that pretty white diaper for a reason."

The frazzled CEO was hopping around, trying to cross her legs. Her big belly looked unusually distended.

"YES! I -- I need to make!" she cried, doing the pee-pee dance. "Hurry! Please! I -- I gotta make potty!"

"Calm down, calm down... okay, let's help you go tinkle like a big girl. Put your hands on your head and walk over here."

"Y -- Yessir!"

She put her hands on her head, revealing her small breasts to him one more time. Her tender nipples hardened at once. The SHAME of being seen topless in a diaper was almost unbearable! Oh, how she HATED how this JERK was allowed to look at her like this! But she needed to pee soooooo badly...

With choppy baby-steps, she quickly waddled over.

Jeff leaned back and laughed. "Good girl! You're listening so well!"

Rachel was in too much discomfort to protest. Her round tummy was about to burst! With a sly grin, Jeff slowly unraveled the duct tape, and after a few agonizing seconds, her diaper fell to the floor with a thud.

And with that, Rachel Queen was completely, 100 percent naked in front of her junior employee once again. To his astonishment, she courtesied!

"Th -- thank you, sir!"

Jeff gazed at her bare body, focusing intently on her freshly-shaven pussy: It was bright pink, but the most startling revelation was how the loss of her pubic hair had completely altered her body's appearance. Before, her thick, womanly bush had made it VERY clear that Miss Rachel Queen was a mature, older woman -- irrespective of her miniscule breasts.

And now?

With her flat chest, chubby buns, distended belly and hairless snatch, the legendary supermodel truly resembled a fat little girl. It was almost as if her adulthood had been taken away! Remarkable! And even though the diaper had been removed, for some reason she was still standing comically bowlegged.

"Please... help me onto the toilet," she squealed, raising up her arms. And so he did, lifting her by the armpits and depositing her on the seat.

She looked at him nervously. "Th -- thank you."

He just stood there.

"Um, you can leave now. Please." Her face burned in discomfort at being oggled while sitting naked on a potty.

"That's okay, Miss Queen. I'll just stick around and make sure everything goes according to plan. No offense, but your track record at going wee-wee isn't exactly stellar."

"But... I -- I can't make if you watch!"

"Just relax, Miss Queen."

The CEO curled her toes and fidgeted, forming an unhappy scowl. After a few seconds of stalling, the poor woman just couldn't hold it in any longer -- and the sound of her piss hitting the inside of the bowl echoed throughout the bathroom. Then, without warning, Rachel farted.

Her expression was priceless! Rachel's cheeks turned crimson and her eyes welled with tears.

"Oh, NO! I -- I'm so embarrassed! Please -- go away! I need my privacy! G -- get out of here!"

She farted again.

Jeff snickered. "Miss Queen! Sitting naked on the crapper, tooting up a storm! Well, let's try to neutralize your naturally stinky scent..."

He reached into her travel bag and pulled out a bottle of her most expensive perfume. He aimed carefully -- and sprayed right at her snatch!

But the perfume was alcohol-based. And her skin was so very, VERY sensitive from her non-lubricated shaving in the hallway:

"OW!! OW!! OH GOD!! IT BURNS!!!"

Rachel was waiving her arms hysterically, kicking her bare feet in the air. Her pussy! It felt like it was on fire!

"HELP ME, JEFF!! PLEASE!! IT BURNS!!"

Not knowing what else to do, Miss Queen started spanking her beaver, desperately trying to put out the wildfire. But her pussy still smoldered:

"THIS HURTS SO BAD!! OW!! OW!! OWWWW!!!!"

Jeff looked around the hotel bathroom and grabbed the first thing he saw: A bottle of mouthwash. He poured the contents over her blazing pussy.

Alas, the mouthwash was alcohol-based too...

"MY PUSSY!! OW!! OW!! OWWWW!!! NOOOOO!!!! THIS IS WORSE!!!!! OH HOLY CHRIST!!!!"

The prim and proper CEO was squatting in the buff, furiously shaking her shaven vagina, trying to air-dry her flaming-hot snatch. Jeff watched in amazement. What a show! The way her small nipples bounced when she shook herself! The way her entire pink pussy was gaping open!

"Stop staring and HELP ME!!!!!" she screamed. Tears were rolling down her eyes... she was in so much agony, she was huffing and puffing, desperately trying to blow cool air on her snatch!

This time Jeff squirted a fistful of hand lotion into his mitts, reached down to Rachel's aching pussy, and started massaging it in.

"It -- it still burns!! Rub harder!! Please!! Owwww! This hurts so bad!"

"Whatever you say, Miss Queen."

Jeff slathered his boss' crotch with another handful of lotion and massaged all the nasty crevices and creases of her denuded pelvis. His hand was making a loud SLOSHING noise as he rubbed, patted, gripped and squeezed...

"Owww! Oww! That -- that's better... ohhh... ohhhhhh..."

Jeff was squatting inches from his arrogant boss, massaging her aching hole with BOTH his hands -- and all 10 of his fingers! He was giggling like the Joker -- exploring every inch of Miss Queen's hairless vagina with impunity, making sure to remember every last inch with photographic detail: every birthmark, every wrinkle, every blemish. Rachel was bucking her hips to amplify the pressure of his fingers, grinding HARD with all her might.

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

With little effort, two of Jeff's fingers slipped inside Rachel's pussy.

"J -- Jeff! JEFF! You..."

A third finger was circling her puckered anus. The baby-faced marketing director stared at her nether region(s) and couldn't help but notice that Genevieve Princess' shaving left much to be desired: Long scraggly pubic hairs were clearly visible below her pussy, adorning her adorable butthole with a thin ring of hair.

"Yes... yes! Th -- that's it... Ohhhhhh..."

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

Then he stopped.

"Wh... what are you doing?" she whispered. Her hips bucked helplessly against the empty breeze.

But Jeff just looked at her.

"You... you're not done yet!" Rachel ordered in a weak, raspy voice. "I -- I still burn! Put your hand back! Quickly!"

She continued to buck her bare hips in front of him.

"Miss Queen, don't insult my intelligence," Jeff reprimanded. "If you want me to give you the greatest orgasm of your life, then say so."

"No! Honest! It -- it still burns, that's all! Rub me!"

Jeff shook his head: "Tell the truth, Miss Queen -- or no more touchy-wouchy!"

Rachel's sad eyes were ablaze and her lower lip jutted out several inches in a childish pout, completing her horrible regression: Yesterday she was the voluptuous, ass-kicking CEO and supermodel of Queen Swimwear. Her employees cowered in FEAR of her. Men DREAMED of kissing her lips. And now... the great Rachel Queen was a pouty-faced little girl, sitting naked on the potty, begging this snot-nosed kid to stick his finger back in her pussy. Oh, God...

With tears in her eyes, the great Rachel Queen finally caved:

"Damn you, Jeff!! I -- I hate you!! Fine, I -- I admit it: I want you to touch me!"

But Jeff still didn't move.

"Pllllleeeeaaasssse, Jeff! PLEASE!! I -- I need you to touch me!"

The young employee winked at her.

"First spread your nasty pussy nice and wide for me. And then I'll consider it. "

"O -- okay!" she sobbed, parting her legs and pulling her pussy lips apart, slouching down on the toilet seat. "Touch me, Jeff! Please! I NEED to cum!" She wiggled her little clitty for him and howled in humiliation...

"Miss Queen!" he exclaimed. "You look pregnant! Hee, hee! I had no idea your belly stuck out like that! Suck-in your fat stomach, for Christ's sake."

Indignant, she tightened her stomach muscles... and farted again.

Jeff snickered. Rachel burst into tears.

"Wah! Wah! This can't be happening! Wah!"

"This bathroom reeks," he said in disapproval. "If you're done with all your tooting, get off the shitter and out of the bathroom. Then I want you to lay down on the bed and spread your snatch again, Miss Queen. This time, try not to fart on me."

"Okay!" she sobbed. "I'm sorry! Don't tell anyone!"

Without waiting for his help, the horny CEO slipped off the potty and meekly crawled on her hands and knees, wiggling her body past Jeff's feet.

"Bad girl!" he said, swatting her on the ass.

"Ow! That HURT!"

Rachel had NEVER felt so thoroughly disgraced. It was unfathomable: Miss Rachel Queen was naked, crawling on her hands and knees -- like a little BITCH -- while her employee smacked her rear end! Jeff gleefully watched her big butt jiggle -- and her hairy anus wink back at him -- as she crawled out of the bathroom...

"I'm a fan of the woman's movement... especially when I'm behind it! Ha!"

Grunt, grunt, grunt...

Panting, Rachel pulled herself up on the hotel bed. She could feel her healthy ass cheeks wobble as she straddled the sheets, rolled to her back, and spread herself wide.

"I -- I've done everything you said!" she sobbed. "Please... you need to touch me."

"Maybe this isn't such a good idea, Miss Queen."

"No! NO!! You... you can't change your mind! PLEASE!! TOUCH ME!!" She kicked her legs high in the air. "TOUCH ME!! We -- we had a deal, Jeff! WE HAD A DEAL!"

"I know, but you threatened me with sexual harassment. Remember? How do I know you're not trying to set me up?"

Despite her angish, Rachel couldn't help but laugh: SHE was setting HIM up?! Seriously?! SHE was the one as naked as a jaybird, spreading her pussy on the bed! She had been stripped, shaved, diapered and humiliated -- and she was setting up HIM?! If only!

"I beg you... Jeff... PLEASE!! J -- Just... I need to be touched!"

Jeff adjusted his cock. "You want my big dick inside of you, Miss Queen?"

"Yes, sir! Yes, sir!" She was pulling open her pussy lips, offering herself on a silver platter... showing him all her most intimate parts... all the parts she had kept hidden from everyone else...

"I don't like condoms," Jeff declared. "And I ain't gonna wear one. Will that be a problem?"

"No sir!" she cried, bucking her hips without remorse, feeling her cunny-juices race down her pussy and into her ass.

Jeff reached down and stroked her throbbing, aching nipples! Rachel nearly orgasmed right then and there!

"Do you want me to cum in you?" the beautiful boy whispered in her ear.

"Yes! Yes!" she screamed, unable to contain herself. "Cum in! Cum in! CUUUUUMMMM IIIINNNN!!!!!"

Suddenly, a loud clicking noise came from the hallway. A familiar voice boomed: "You heard her. She SAID we can come in!"

The hotel door swung open.

Genevieve Princess, the hotel doctor, and half-a-dozen 20-year-olds walked right into their room!

Rachel froze in fear! She was totally naked, displaying herself like a crazed nympho to a brand-new audience of onlookers, including her bitter ex-employee! This was her greatest nightmare! Adding to her misery, she was sopping wet -- on the verge of climaxing -- and dripping all over!

"Is everything okay?" asked the hotel doctor, approaching the bed with a perverted grin. "I was making my late-evening rounds with my students, when we received a phone call from your concerned neighbor. She heard someone yelling in pain and asked us to check. Wasn't that nice of her?"

"I -- I'm fine," stammered Rachel, burning bright red and DYING of embarrassment. She crossed her legs and hugged her girly chest, praying for a miracle. "J -- just get out! Get out of my room!"

"Are you sure?" the doctor asked. "We can give you a complete check-up. It could be our new class project! What fun!"

"YES, I'M SURE!!! GET OUT, FOR CHRIST'S SAKE!! CAN'T YOU SEE I'M NAKED?!!"

"Tsk, tsk," scolded Genevieve, pointing between Rachel's thighs. "It looks like she wet the bed again. We better get that diaper back on her before she has another accident."

The students snickered.

"N -- no!!" sobbed Rachel. "I don't wanna wear a diaper! I'm a big girl! Just leave, Genevieve!"

The laughter grew louder.

"How old is she anyway?" asked one of the students. "Looking at her body, I'm guessing she's... oh... 12 or 13. Am I right?"

Genevieve cruelly grabbed Rachel's wrists and pushed open her thighs, forcing her to expose herself. Her embarrassing titties and clean-shaven snatch popped into view.

"Take a good look, boys!" the ex-employee chortled. "THIS is the body of a famous supermodel!"

All the faces hovered just inches from the disgraced CEO. She could feel their eyes rake all over her naked little body. Her nipples hardened... and dammit, her treacherous pussy wouldn't stop leaking!

"Yeah, right!" laughed a female student. "Some supermodel! I had bigger tits when I was in middle school!"

"Totally!" laughed her friend. "Her body is completely shapeless. Well, other than her big round belly. Round is a shape, right? Hee hee!"

"Ha ha! She looks like an Oompa-Loompa! She must be a school kid!"

Miss Queen couldn't believe what she was hearing! But Genevieve was so much stronger than her -- she just couldn't free herself from her grip... it was AWFUL! All those voices and faces mocking her nude flesh -- and being unable to do ANYTHING about it!

"No, I can prove to you she's not a school kid -- despite how pathetic her REAL body is," announced Genevieve. "Look:"

And with that, Genevieve Princess pulled Rachel's legs up in the air.

"Hey!! L -- Let me GOOOO!" gasped Miss Queen.

Instead, the blonde ex-employee pinned Rachel's feet behind her head, spreading the CEO's pussy and anus high in the air. She... she was gaping open! All of her holes were spread wide!

"NOOOOO!!"

Genevieve poked her finger perilously close to Rachel's sphincter. "See how hairy her bunghole is? All her curly little butt hairs? That is NOT the bum of a kid."

The doctor and students all peered in for a closer look.

"Go away!" cried Rachel. "Please! Go away! Wah!"

"Yes, Miss Princess is quite right," acknowledged the doctor. "Class, examine this naked girl closely: In addition to her hairy anus, notice that her clitoris and vaginal lips are fully engorged. Do you see? Right before our eyes, her vagina is readying itself for further stimulation. See how POOFY her private parts have become? It's a textbook example of adult female arousal. Obviously, she is VERY attracted to her young male companion -- er, I mean, her husband."

As the class knelt inches from her body, Rachel felt Genevieve chuckle: "Is that true, Miss Queen? Does your 'husband' make your dusty old pussy all poofy?"

Rachel cried in despair. No! She couldn't admit that -- not with Jeff in the room! Her harmless CRUSH on her handsome young employee was supposed to be a secret that nobody knew -- least of all HIM! Oh, God...

"I -- I..."

"What was that, dear?" asked Genevieve again. "I couldn't hear you, so speak louder: Does dreamy-weamy Jeff Jones make your pussy all poofy?"

Rachel saw Jeff to the side of the bed, smirking like the cat who swallowed the canary! That pompous, arrogant JERK!! That chauvinist PIG!! NO WAY would she give him the satisfaction of saying those words out loud! Never! Not as long as she had an ounce of strength left in her body!

"Noooo! Noooo!" she screamed. "He doesn't, I swear! I -- I hate him! Do you hear me?! I HATE JEFF JONES!! I HATE HIM!! I HATE HIM!!"

"Well, there's only one way to find out for sure," the doctor said. "Jeff, please touch her clitoris. Let's see how her body responds."

"NOO!!" wailed Rachel, twisting and turning, battling with all her might to get free. "NOO! I HATE HIM! NOO!"

But alas, for all her twisting and turning, the only thing Rachel accomplished was giving the audience an incredible peep show of her hairless pussy and hirsute anus from every conceivable angle: Her nipples bounced and her belly shook, but her aching privates remained 100 percent uncovered. She was MUCH weaker than Genevieve; she couldn't even budge her arms a smidgen... and Jeff was now just inches away, reaching down...

"NOO! HONEST, I HATE HIM! PLEASE -- PLEASE BELIEVE ME!! NOOOOOOO!!!!"

Jeff's rough, calloused fingers ran up and down Rachel's inner thighs. Genevieve snickered as her "fearless" ex-boss whimpered and cried!

From the corner of her eye, Rachel saw the smug, condescending expression splashed across Genevieve's face. Her nose was in the air and her fat silicone breasts heaved up and down. She was smirking at Rachel with an obvious sense of superiority. Grrr...! Instantly, a mighty rage built inside the mind of the outraged CEO. That... that BITCH! That evil, fucking BITCH!! No! No matter what, she wouldn't give that CUNT the satisfaction either! Fuck Jeff Jones and fuck Genevieve Princess! She was still Miss Rachel Queen, dammit!

"Fuck all of you!" Rachel spat in fury. "No matter what you say or do, I'm still a REAL lady! A supermodel -- with class and dignity! And you people are filth! Lower than filth! You're lowly peasants! None of you are worthy of a sophisticated, beautiful, mature woman like ME!"

But instead of looking upset, her marketing director smiled sympathetically.

"Aw, Miss Queen, you're such a grumpy little girl! But maybe it's just gas."

And with that, Jeff pressed down on Rachel's stomach.

The naked CEO farted.

"Nooo! Wah! Wah!" she bawled, her face burning red with embarrassment. "Nooooo! I'm SOOO ashamed! Wah!"

Rachel immediately lost all of her remaining composure, bawling her pretty eyes out while everyone pointed and laughed. This -- this couldn't be happening! Not to her! Jeff... Genevieve... the doctor... all those faces... they were LAUGHING at her!

"A beautiful, sophisticated, classy woman, eh?" giggled Genevieve. "More like a tubby-wubby farty-pants!" She quickly pressed down hard on the belly of her ex-boss to try for herself:

Rachel tooted again.

"Nooooooooooo! Wah! Wah! Wah! Wah!"

With the sounds of laughter ricocheting throughout the room, Genevieve grabbed Rachel's tiny nipple. "Tsk, tsk, stinky-poo. No more pretending to be a big girl. And we're going to put an end to this 'supermodel' silliness. We both know you've got the body of a fat little kid. Apologize for trying to fool everybody."

"Ow! Ow! I'm sorry!" she screamed. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry I tried to fool everybody! I -- I don't have the body of a supermodel! I -- I admit it!"

"And what DO you have the body of?"

"A -- a fat little kid!" she wailed.

This was music to Genevieve's ears! After suffering for YEARS under Miss Queen's tyranical rule and predatory business practices, the biggest bitch in the galaxy was finally getting her comeuppance! Good! Serves the cunt right! She tugged Rachel's nipple even harder and demanded, "Now tell us what you REALLY are, you tubby-wubby farty-pants!"

The naked CEO looked mortified.

"I'm a -- a... tubby-wubby farty-pants!" she cried. "Rachel Queen is a tubby-wubby farty-pants!"

Jeff grinned. "Aw, isn't she precious!" He nonchalantly pushed his long, bumpy finger inside her pussy, and wiggled until he reached his knuckle.

"J -- JEFF!! JEFF!! Ohhhhhhh..."

Miss Queen's hips were swinging like the gears of a watchtower. Her drippings were racing down her body...

"Admit it, Miss Queen: You don't hate me. You love me. Tell them! Tell them how much you love me."

He partly withdrew his finger and gripped her swollen clitty with his large thumb. Then he rubbed his fingers back and forth.

"OH, GOD!!! I -- I CAN'T CONTROL MYSELF!! PLEASE!! N -- NOT IN FRONT OF GENEVIEVE AND ALL THESE PEOPLE!! PLEASE -- I BEG YOU!!"

The much-younger employee began massaging her clitty with two of his now-soaking fingers -- and gently tickling her curly anal hairs with his third.

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

"Ooh, I think you're going to make her cum!" teased Genevieve. "Does tubby-wubby farty-pants need to cum-cum?"

"STOP!! STOP!! OHHHHHHH..."

Jeff put his other hand on her throat and forced her to gaze into his eyes. "Say it, Miss Queen. You want me to touch you. And admit that you love me."

Rachel could hold out no longer. It -- it was all too much! She had been stripped of all her shoes, clothes and undies! A crowd of people examined all her private parts! She had been poked and prodded and manhandled!

"Yes!" she cried. "Yes! I -- I want you to touch me! Wah! Oh... I want you t -- to touch my pussy! Please, Jeff! I -- I love you! Wah! Wah! Oh, God! Tubby-wubby farty-pants wants to cum-cum! OH, GOD!! OOOOHHHHHHHHH..."

And with that, Rachel Queen's pussy reached supernova status and EXPLODED. Her entire body erupted in a long, sustained orgasm:

"OOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHH... JEFF!!! I -- I LOVE YOU!! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!"

Her vaginal juices squirted all over the bed, reaching as far as the nearby wall. He released her body from his hands and watched her tremble, shake, moan and groan.

"Eww, look at the mess she made," complained Genevieve. "Gross! You better get another diaper on her fast."

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

Rachel was still twitching in a wet, pink heap, but Genevieve's words shocked her from her bliss:

"N -- no! No diaper! Please... touch me again, Jeff. Please! That -- that wasn't enough. Jeff! TOUCH ME! TOUCH ME!"

The frantic CEO offered the inside of her hips to her junior executive: Yes! Jeff, my love! My sweet little clitty. Touch me! Fuck me! Do it! While everyone watches! She closed her eyes and waited in breathless anticipation...

But when she looked down, she saw Genevieve and the doctor putting that AWFUL diaper back on her! Like she was a helpless infant!

"No! What are you doing?!" she cried.

"Did you hear the racket the hotel made when they replaced your mattress the first time?" complained Genevieve, taping the diaper shut. "It's late and I need my sleep. No way am I going through that again. Be a good tubby-wubby farty-pants, put on your diaper, and go straight to bed."

"B -- but I'm still so horny!" Rachel sobbed. "Now I can't even touch myself!"

"That's a good thing," Jeff noted. "We have a big day tomorrow. I don't want you to be up all night, playing with her puss-puss. Now thank Genevieve and the doctor, and let's go back to bed."

While the doctor secured her diaper with duct tape, Rachel looked at her enemies:

"N -- no! I don't wanna!" she blubbered.

"Pookie," lectured Jeff. "I know how desperately you've fallen in love with me, so do as I say. Now thank them!"

"Dammit!" she pitifully cried: "Fine: Th -- thank you!"

"My pleasure, cutie-pie," said Genevieve, kissing her ex-boss on the top of her head. "Good luck tomorrow with your business meeting. I know the Crown Prince can't wait to meet the sexy, curvy, busty supermodel, Miss Rachel Queen! I hear he's having a pool party -- everyone will be wearing a bikini. Good luck indeed! BWAHAHAHA HAHAHA HAHA!"

Rachel gulped. She looked down at her itsy-bitsy boobies, pink flesh and white, puffy diaper...

END OF PART FOUR

Bullies Get Even with Suburban Mom by John Knuckles

A beautiful MILF gets caught in a humiliating situation by three neighborhood bullies

--------------------------------------------------------------

Kathy Carter sipped her morning coffee, staring aimlessly out the kitchen window.  The seconds turned into minutes.  She ran her pretty fingers through her long blonde hair; her large chest heaved as she sighed.  Her son Lenny had just been picked up by the school bus, and she savored having the house for herself.

Good coffee.

The new coffee maker only made one cup at a time.  Because one was all their new home needed.

There was no Mr. Carter.  Not anymore.

It was just Kathy and Lenny in that big house.  They didn't even have any pets.  Not much furniture, either.

Last year, they lived somewhere else.  Somewhere smaller.

And Mr. Carter lived with them.

They were happy.  They were a family.  They were in love.

That was before his accident.  And the emergency operation.  And the funeral.

And before their lawsuit.  And before the multimillion-dollar settlement.

Now, they were rich.  Lived in a mansion.  Alongside all the other mansions in their gated community.

Kathy Carter didn't work anymore.  She didn't have to.  Most of the other wives didn't.  A few did... the lawyers and doctors.  But not women like Kathy.

Kathy Carter used to be a Hooter's waitress.  Made a nice income, too.  She certainly had the curves, confidence and street smarts to entice anyone - and with her naturally-enormous "hooters," she more than lived up to the name.  It was hard work... but tons of fun.  Truth be told, she loved being a tease.  Men would follow her around like a puppy dog - and one wink of the eye could earn her a marriage proposal!  Customers would beg, bribe and whimper for her phone number!  Kathy LOVED having all this power over men!  It... got her kind of hot.

Back then, she worked HARD to keep her curvy body in tip-top condition.  She worked out in the gym five days a week.  She dieted and trained diligently.  Her livelihood depended on it.

She didn't need money anymore.  She had enough for a lifetime.  She had no use for a gym, either.  Fuck it.

What she needed was a man.  Mr. Carter had expired 16 months ago.  That was a long time for a 36-year-old lady to be alone.

She had... needs.

Burning needs.

Mr. Carter used to satisfy ALL her cravings.  ALL her fantasies.  Even the rough, BDSM stuff - role playing, bondage, costumes and spankings.  Kathy would get so HOT when her husband would tear off her clothes, strip her bare and make her cum!  Oh, how she loved being Mr. Carter's submissive slut in private - and the tough-talking Hooter's goddess in public!  Mr. Carter could manhandle her, degrade her and violate her... but for everyone else, she was an incorrigible tease!

The memory made Kathy smile wistfully.

Ever since that fateful day, she'd been celibate.  Hadn't even touched herself.  And her needs went painfully unfulfilled.

No matter - this wasn't about her.  This was about her son.  Lenny missed Daddy so much!  Losing his father and moving away to this strange neighborhood was confusing for the boy.  She didn't dare date anyone.  No more major changes.  This was hard enough.

It didn't help that Lenny was getting bullied.

The bullies were the Thompson boys, Andy and Fred.  And their little tramp girlfriend, Tiffany.  The two boys were big for their age and terrorized the other kids; Tiffany was younger, but dressed like she was in her early 20s and "experienced."  She smoked, cussed and wore lots of makeup.  Kathy wasn't sure which boy Tiffany dated.  Or which one was Andy and which one was Fred.

It didn't matter.

What mattered was that they bullied her son.

Kathy spoke to their parents.  Nothing happened.  She spoke to the principal.  Again, nothing.

On several occasions, she had to take matters in her own hands:

Most of the time, when she caught the gang bullying, she'd simply chase them away: the kids would run like cowards when they saw her yelling.  Sure, they might make the occasional smart ass comment about her big tits ("Look out!  Here comes Miss Moo!  Jiggle, jiggle!") while they ran, but that was the extent of it.  This happened 99 percent of the time.

But the other one percent...

Last week, she saw the gang "pants" Lenny, leaving him outdoors in his Underoos.  Her son was very shy; being exposed like this had him in tears.  Kathy sprinted out of the house to confront them.  The boys cautiously inched backwards - but the pint-sized girlfriend got right in Kathy's face:

"What's the big idea?  Go take a hike, you old cow!"  The impudent girl even shoved Kathy in the shoulder - like she was ready to KICK ASS in a catfight!

Kathy snarled and grabbed the girl by the ear - like she was a naughty little girl.  The Thompson boys couldn't believe it!  Tiffany had always been the leader of their group, despite being the youngest.  Watching her get dominated like this was stunning! Tiffany punched, kicked and clawed - but the furious mother swatted her limbs away.

"L - Let me go, Miss Moo!!  Get your fat hands off of me!  Let me GO!!"

But instead of letting her go, Kathy pantsed Tiffany: her designer jeans AND her panties!  All at once - right in front of the Thompson boys!

"You think it's funny to pants someone smaller than you?  Then let's raise the stakes, Pee Wee!"  Kathy proudly held the girl's jeans and panties in the air - like they were trophies.

"Aaah!!!" Tiffany shrieked.  She was NAKED below the waist!!!  "My - my privates!!  Nobody look!!"

"Please, little girl!" laughed Kathy.  "You don't have anything worth looking at!  And I'm guessing these little tits of yours are the byproduct of stuffing.  Am I right?"

"NOO!!!  I - I don't stuff!  Please!  No!!"

Kathy grabbed the bottom of Tiffany's shirt.  The girl battled like a hellcat, but the bigger, stronger MILF easily stripped it off.

"Stop it!  Stop it!" shrieked Tiffany, jumping up and down, desperately trying to hide her body.  Her bra stuck-out unnaturally.  "I don't stuff!  I promise,  I don't!!"  The poor girl was in hysterics!  She had worked so hard to look and act mature - and this crazy MILF was unveiling her undeveloped body!  She had intended to reveal herself to her boyfriend ONLY when her body finally blossomed!  She was frozen with fear!

"Nice bra, Pee Wee!  Let me get a better look at it!"  Kathy turned the horrified girl around.  The curvy blonde unhooked the back - and then RIPPED it clean off her chest!

"Stop calling me Pee Wee!!!  Leave me alone!  Stop!  I - I - I'm sorry!!  Noooooooo!!"

For Tiffany, it felt like time was moving in slow motion: Her bra was pulled from her torso... and two large balls of tissue paper floated up in the sky and tumbled and turned... before falling limply to the ground.  Her flat, tiny tits were fully exposed.  She didn't have a stitch of clothes left on her body.

She had... no tits.  None.  No pubes.  Just a bare crotch.  No curves, either.

Her chest had two itsy-bitsy nipples.  And nothing more.

Instead of being "experienced" and sexy, she was revealed to still be a little girl - maybe even a bit young for her age!  She was nowhere close to being a woman!

"Look at you!" laughed Kathy.  "You act like some tough, mature hotty - but you're still a baby girl with a little baby body!  And you know what happens to bad babies?"

"Wh - what?!"

Kathy flipped Tiffany over her knee and gave the crying, wailing little brat a bare-assed spanking before dumping her like a lump in the yard.  Her bully boyfriend(s) just watched!

Poor Tiffany!  Just minutes before, she was dressed like a sexy, mature vixen.  Now she was buck naked... and everyone could see that she had the body of a little schoolgirl.  Stripped of her clothes and getting spanked by a larger, curvier, mature woman only made her look that much more like an adolescent.

"Let that be a lesson, Pee Wee!" Kathy triumphantly declared.  "Mess with my son again, and we'll do this a second time!"

The girl rolled and writhed on the grass, crying hysterically.  Her tiny tits and hairless pussy were fully exposed as she kicked and screamed.

"Wah!  Wah!  You - you've ruined EVERYTHING!!  Wah!!  Wah!!"

"Cheer up, baby!" Kathy teased.  "One day, maybe you'll be a REAL woman.  But until then, get your scrawny butt out of here!"  The MILF gave Tiffany a playful kick to the tush.

The boys helped the humiliated girl to her feet and ran away - Tiffany still butt-naked as she hobbled off, clutching her pussy and embarrassing little tits.  You could hear her loud sobs a mile away!  She was howling in shame... knowing full well she had to run naked by the schoolyard in all her diminished glory!

How the other kids would taunt her!

And they did.  "Tiny Tits Tiffany" was her new nickname.

The sexy MILF hadn't seen the gang since then.  Not until she saw them out her window, standing in her yard.  Just now.

Kathy shook her head and put down her coffee.

"Those stupid fucking kids!  If they want a war, I'll give them a war!"

She still had on her overnight makeup mask, so she went to the shower to wash up.  If those kids were still there when she got out, she'd tan their hides once again!

Kathy gave herself a fast shower and quickly dried off.  She peaked out the window:

The bullies were still there in her front yard.  Just... standing there.

Kathy swore again and finished drying her naked body - her big tits, curvy hips and legs.  She studied her nude anatomy in the bathroom mirror and winced; she really needed to start working out again... this WAS NOT acceptable.  Dammit!

She grabbed her long black bathrobe and put it on.

It was an incredibly sexy bathrobe.  A long black gown that followed behind her, with fluffy, soft material at top.

She quickly tied the sash and stormed outside, shutting her front door hard.

"You three!" she yelled as she stepped outdoors.  "You have to the count of 10 to get off my yard - or I'm calling the cops!"

"Oh, relax, Fatty!" Tiffany retorted while rolling her eyes.  "It's not like we're murdering anyone.  Like, whatever!"

That was IT!!!  Kathy bolted after the three bullies to teach them a lesson again!

"Still have a smart mouth, Pee Wee?  I think you need another spanking!"

This time the kids ran.  Fast!  Tiffany especially!

Kathy slowed down and chuckled as the bullies fled.  "Thought so," she smugly gloated.  "Stay off my yard, all of you punks!  Or I'll strip and spank each of you!  Don't laugh, Thompson boys - I'm not afraid to whip your naked butts either!  And Pee Wee, after I strip you again, I'll use all that tissue paper in your bra to mop up all your pathetic makeup!  You're not fooling anyone,  Tiny Tits Tiffany!"

Kathy turned around to leave, her nose high up in the air - and an expression of self-satisfaction splashed over her face.  "Ha!  I win again!  Stupid kids!"

One of the Thompson boys stepped forward from behind her.  She didn't know which one.

He stepped on the back of her bathrobe.

The bathrobe pulled and stopped moving.

Kathy, walking smugly with her nose in the air, kept walking...

...until she POPPED right out of her bathrobe!!

Not realizing that she had left her bathrobe behind and was now completely naked, Kathy continued to walk, proud and confident.  The bullies watched in amazement at the sight: She was INSANELY curvy!  Even more so now, with her post-Hooter's weight.  And her flesh was so inviting...

"If you show up on my yard again, you'll wish you were never born!  Got that?!"

"Whatever you say, Miss Moo.  By the way: Nice ASS!!!"

The warm sunlight and cool breeze caressed her body.  Kathy looked down.

MY... GOD!!!!

She... she was naked!  Her big, giant tits!  Her womanly pussy!  Kathy gasped - she felt faint... she - she used to have nightmares about this...

"Aaaahhhhh!!!!" she screamed. "My clothes!  My body!"

"Nice ass?!  I don't think Miss Moo has a nice ass at all," said Tiffany.  "I think she's fat!  What do you think the rest of her looks like?  I bet she's all fat and blubbery!  I bet she's gross!"

"No!  Oh, God!"

Kathy sprinted for her front door.  Her huge tits bounced madly as she ran...

The three kids watched her ass cheeks bounce and shake.

"Look at Miss Moo's thunder-thighs!" one of the boys laughed.

Kathy desperately tried to turn the doorknob.  Oh no!!  It was LOCKED!!

And her house keys were in her bathrobe pocket!  And her bathrobe was...

She looked over her shoulder.

Tiffany was now wearing it!  That little bra-stuffing BRAT was mimicking her gestures!  While the boys... while the two boys were taking cell phone pics of her naked body!

Cell phone pics????  She hadn't considered that... OH GOD!!!!!!

"Stop it!" Kathy hollered, blushing furiously.  The more she shook in rage, the more her body jiggled!  Nobody had seen her naked since her husband had died... and now her nudity was being recorded by her kid's bullies?!!  She was mortified: The same naked flesh that ONLY Mr. Carter was allowed to see was being filmed, scrutinized and mocked by neighborhood punks!

Kathy's hands trembled.  If all those horny, pent-up customers who drooled over her at Hooter's could see her now!  None of them got to see her even an INCH out of wardrobe... but a bunch of kids had stripped her bare?!  In public?!  On the street where she lives?!

"C - Come over here!  G - Give me back my bathrobe!" Kathy stuttered.  "Now!"

"But you said we can't go on your lawn!  You said you'd call the police!" Tiffany teased.

"Please!  I - I need my keys!" Kathy cried.

Tiffany shrugged.  "Okay, Miss Moo.  Come and get it.  I'm not going to risk going to jail."

"Don't you DARE call me Miss Moo!" yelled Kathy.  "My name is Miss Carter!"

"No it's not.  It's Miss Moo.  Admit it and walk to me - or NO bathrobe!"

"Fine!  M - My name is... Miss Moo!" Kathy cried.  "Just don't move.  I - I'll walk to you!"  Kathy slowly walked to the three kids, holding her large tits in one arm and hiding her crotch with her other hand.  This made her walk verrrrry sllllowwwwwwlly....

The Thompson boys continued to film her every awkward move.  And the horrible things they said:

"Hey, check out her tits!  They're enormous!"

"Like giant cantaloupes!"

"I think I saw some bush!"

"Too bad she's fatter than we thought.  Miss Moo needs to go on a diet!"

"I'd still bang her.  More cushion for the pushin'!"

Kathy wanted to cry.  This was awful!

Finally, the humiliated MILF was in front of Tiffany.  The two boys were circling around, taking turns filming her naked ass and clenched front.  And they continued to make terrible comments:

"What a big butt!  I'm uploading this to the MILF Sluts website!"

"Look, her ass has a pair of pimples!  See?  On her left cheek, near the crack?"

"Her tummy is soft.  She has a jelly-belly!  Ha Ha!!"

Each rude coment cut Kathy like a knife.  She wanted to die!  "Please.  Hand me my bathrobe.  Please."

"Okay," agreed Tiffany.  "Give me your hands,  Miss Moo."

Kathy was startled.  Her hands?!  But... her hands were the only thing hiding her tits and pussy!

"N - no, just please put the bathrobe over my shoulders!"

"Oh, don't be silly," chided Tiffany.  "Give me your hands - or NO bathrobe!"

Nooooo!!!!  Her entire body turned bright red.  Tears began to form in her eyes.

"Please, I - I beg you!" Kathy pleaded.  "Don't make me expose myself!  Not to a bunch of kids!  You... you can't!"

"Let me repeat myself, you old cow: Give me your hands - or NO bathrobe!"

The streets were becoming more crowded.  The neighbors were moving about... and every second, the traffic increased...

"Fine, you bitch!" Kathy finally cried, holding out both her hands.

Freed from her hands, her large, saggy tits instantly drooped down.  Way down!!  Big and pale, they hung like heavy sacks.  But her nipples were bright pink and fully-erect, easily the diameter of a McDonald's hamburger. You could poke your eyes out in those things!

An overgrown brownish-blonde bush adorned her pussy.  Obviously, Kathy was no longer spending time on her feminine grooming.  After all... who was going to see it anyway?

She was completely naked.  Nothing was hidden.

Both Thompson boys recorded every last detail: Her heaving tits, her womanly hips, her hairy pussy.  They boldly pushed their phones within inches of her most private, most intimate parts.  One touched her nipple with his phone on a closeup,  making it further harden.  Another was so horribly close to her pussy, she could feel his hot breath on her crotch and thighs!

"Oh, God!!  Oh, God!!"

Kathy closed her eyes.  It was SO humiliating!  But for some reason, her body was responding in ways it hadn't for a very, very long time...

But Tiffany snapped Kathy out of her fantasies by grabbing her - and forcing her naked body over her lap!

"Eek!!  Wh - What are you doing?!"

But her reaction time was too slow.  She was trapped.

SPANK!!

"THIS is for calling me a bitch!"

A big pink handprint glowed on Kathy's white ass.

"Ow!!  Let go of me, Pee Wee!  You - you - you can't - "

SPANK!!

"THIS is for spanking me last week."

"Ow, ow, ow, ow!!" cried the embarrassed MILF.

SPANK!!

SPANK!!

SPANK!!

"OW!!  OW!!  YOU'RE HURTING ME!!  WAH!!  WAH!!"

The poor blonde mom was trying to roll her naked ass out of reach, but Tiffany easily held her firmly in place.  And her ass was so big, it was almost impossible to miss!

"And those were to teach YOU a lesson!  Now say you're sorry,  Miss Moo!"

SPANK!!

SPANK!!

SPANK!!

Kathy was dumped naked on the ground.  Just like Tiffany, she showed EVERYTHING as she writhed and rolled on the grass, her ass on fire!  Her body jiggled obscenely - the pain was so great, she couldn't even cover her privates.  The evil brothers grinned menacingly as they filmed every detail.

"OHHHHHhhhhhh!!  Ow!!  Wah!  Wah!  Wah!" she cried.  "My tushy hurts!!  Ow!!  I - I'm sorry!!  I'm sorry!!  Miss Moo is sorry!!"

She rolled from front to back - and back to front.  She rubbed and massaged her red-hot ass, inadvertently stretching it wide, giving the boys some splendid shots of her puckered anus.  Her tits were flopping all over the place.

"It burns!  It burns!  Miss Moo's ass burns!!  Wah!  Wah!"

"Oh, cheer up, baby.  Maybe one day, you'll be a REAL woman."

Her face as red as her butt, Kathy stumbled to her feet.  She was dizzy and off-balance, and completely humiliated.  But to her surprise, the three kids gently offered to dress her.

"No hard feelings, Miss Moo.  We'll dress you.  Your fat, cow-like body will be our secret!  Hold out your arms."

With tears streaking her face, the curvy blonde stood with her arms out, waiting to be dressed.  Her ass was still burning hot, and her tits swayed softly in the breeze.  She could feel the cool air blow against her clitty... she was still bawling like a baby...

"O - Okay!" she whimpered.  "Miss Moo thanks you!"  Sniff...

The bathrobe was slipped over her arms.

Kathy sighed in relief... this nightmare was almost over...

But when she tried to pull the bathrobe closed, something was NOT right.  It... it didn't close up front!  Her tits were still jiggling about on the street!  Her pussy was completely exposed.  And there were people walking up and down the street!  The kids obviously didn't put it on correctly.

And her sash... how in the world did it get lodged in between her legs?!

"Here, Miss Moo - let me pull this tight for you," Tiffany sweetly offered.  She pulled the sash up.

Kathy felt it slide between her thighs - over her anus and right on her pussy.  The edges tickled her clitty!

"Oh!  OH!  Tiffany - this... this isn't -"

It was silk.  And it had been 16 long months...

"I'm so clumsy!" Tiffany apologized.  "Here, let me pull harder."

And the girl yanked and pulled on the silk scarf until it found its way smack IN BETWEEN her pussy lips... and then she pulled and tugged even HARDER!  led Kathy around the yard like she was walking a puppy!

"Oooooohhhhhh..." Kathy began to moan.  "Ohhhhhhhh... I'm - I'm - oh GOD!!  I AM CUMMING!!!!!!"

"You're what, Miss Moo?" Tiffany innocently asked.  "It's difficult to understand you when you're making those silly moaning noises.  Say it again."

The Thompson boys continued to film...

"I'M CUMMING!!!!  MISS MOO IS CUMMING!!!  I - I - OOoooooooohhhhhhh.....!!!!!"

"I still can't figure out what Miss Moo is saying," Tiffany said.  "Boys, make sure her heartbeat is okay.  She sounds like she's hurt - moaning like that!"

The Thompson boys didn't have to be asked twice.  Each grabbed one of Kathy's giant tits and started rubbing and groping her long-neglected nipples.  Meanwhile, that long silk sash kept sliding inch by inch through her thighs, over her anus, and in between her tender pussy lips.  It... it was too much!!

Kathy was going out of her mind!  Her tender, hypersensitive clitty!  She was helpless!

"OOOOOOooooooooohhhhhhh!!!  OH MY GOD!!  WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO ME?!  OH MY GOD!!  NO!!!  NOT HERE!  NOOOOOOOO..."

Tiffany led her by the sash and walked the humiliated MILF to the middle of the street!  One neighbor was mowing his lawn.  Another was tending to her flower garden.  A group of teens were playing football across the street.

A few drops leaked from the part of the sash closest to her pussy!  Tiffany stared in amazement - and then pulled as hard as she could:

"OH NO!!  OH NO!!  IT'S BEEN SO LONG!!  MY GODDDDD!!!!!!!!  OOOOOoooooooohhhhh!!!  OH GODDDD!  NOBODY WATCH MISS MOO!!  NOBODY WATCH MISS MOO!! OHHHHHH!!  MISS MOO IS CUMMING!!!!!  MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!"

And she squirted all over the sash!  All over the street!  Her back arched and she gripped and tugged her nipples hard!  Her nips were yanked skyward - and her pussy exploded in relief!

With the three kids looking at her with mischievous expressions, the humiliated MILF ran back to her house - and unlocked the door - and raced inside!  A trail of slime dripped from her thighs.

Slam!!

Tiffany grinned.

Wonder what would happen next week?  Hmm...

THE END