The Greatest Humiliation Story Ch. 02

Part 2: The Empress Forms a Plan

After Mrs. Lovington's cousins Abby and Yvette were so dramatically humiliated, the local reaction was mixed: The rich people hated Rachel Trovolli more than ever, because she had upstaged "one of their own." How DARE that peasant lay a hand on two members of the upper-class, stripping them naked in public! How DARE she make two high-society, college-aged debutantes MOO and CLUCK in front of swarms of white-trash, shaking their tits, wiggling their asses and displaying their pussies like common streetwalkers! Rachel was quickly blackballed from the swanky Middletown Yacht Club dances and holiday parties... but I doubt if Rachel even noticed, since she never bothered with any of that stuff anyway.

Back on her home turf - the "wrong side of the tracks" - Rachel was unquestionably the most sought-after babe in town. Cheers greeted her when she entered the pool hall! All the working-stiffs saluted her when she roared by on her Harley! All the leading men lusted after her more than ever, begging her for dates! And to all the 18-year-old schoolboys like me, well, Rachel was our hero.

Not just our hero: Our fantasy. 'Cause maybe it was my imagination, but since stripping those snobby cousins bare, Rachel looked even HOTTER. Late at night, armed with a box of Kleenex and a jar of hand-lotion, I replayed the scene of Rachel Trovolli stripping the rich-bitches over and over again in my mind! I'll never forget how shame-faced they looked when their tiny tits and flabby belly were exposed! And from that point on, whenever Rachel walked past me - with her long, dark brown hair, her black leather pants, her snug black top, black leather jacket, biker boots with six-inch spiked heels and her sunglasses, my penis seemed to salute her, too!

Meanwhile, Timmy's mom - Mrs. Lacy Lovington - was having her own issues: Sure, her gaggle of sycophants still told her how much they respected and supported her... but everyone else? They began to wonder: If Mrs. Lovington's blood-relatives were harboring so many secrets about their bodies... then what might Mrs. Lovington be hiding? Was SHE wearing a girdle? She had clearly gained some weight over the years. Were those big tits of hers inflatable balloons? Maybe her pretty blonde hair was a wig?

The rumors were flying!

The two cousins were still reeling from the fallout as well: Their parents were so ashamed, they asked Mrs. Lovington to keep an eye on them a few extra months. And the Empress of Middletown obliged, punishing each girl in a different way for shaming the family name:

"Mature" Yvette - stripped of her falsies and fancy "adult" outfits - was reduced to wearing little kid clothes and attending middle school! Mrs. Lovington decided that if Yvette still looks like a little girl, then she was going to be treated like a little girl.

I've got to say, when I'd drop by the house to see Timmy, it was HILARIOUS to "accidentally" walk into the bathroom and see Yvette sitting naked in the tub - her wet little boobies winking at me, and a rubber ducky floating in the water! She'd shriek, "GET OUT!" and yell at me to leave, but Mrs. Lovington would let me stay as long as I wanted: "Little girls don't get to lock the bathroom door, Yvette. Now put your arms down! You don't have any real breasts anyway. Trust me, there's nothing to see!"

And "little" Yvette would have no choice but to lower her arms, and I'd stare of those dinky, wet tits of hers for as long as I wanted! I'd blatantly do it, too! She'd glare back at me, but there was nothing she could do!

Sometimes Mrs. Lovington would even let me help her towel Yvette off. Toweling was fun (Well, for me - NOT for Yvette. For her, the thought of dorky, immature ME seeing her anatomy up-close-and-personal was HORRIFYING!). The best part was when we mopped the area between her thighs with the towel. She'd grit her teeth and she'd get so embarrassed, her fingers would shake! Then we'd dress her in these adorable Sesame Street jammies - the ones with a flap in the back. (Timmy yanked off all the buttons, so Yvette had to run around with the flap down and her cute butt sticking out for the rest of the evening!)

One night, when I was sleeping over in Timmy's room, we played the classic hand-in-hot-water prank on Yvette while she slept. And it worked! Timmy's Mom was FURIOUS: "YOU WET THE BED?!" She made Yvette strip naked in front of us, place her soiled jammies in a plastic bag and take another bath - and from that point on, two new rules were enacted:

The first rule was that Yvette had to wear diapers at night.

That was a sight to behold! Now, after her nighttime bath, Mrs. Lovington would lay Yvette down on the bed while she was still wet and naked, dry her off with a "Little Mermaid" baby towel, powder her privates - and then diaper her like a helpless newborn, pinning her feet near her ears!

"Aunt Lacy!" she shrieked, while the Empress held up her legs and was powdering her bottom, "those boys are watching! PLEASE make them leave!"

"Sorry, dear. I'm a firm believer in equal right. Timmy and his friend need to learn how to take care of babies, too."

And then she let ME powder her gaping butt and hairless pussy!

"WAH! WAH!"

Once, I leaned down while diapering her and whispered, "Look, Yvette! I think you're finally growing your very first pubic hair! See?"

Her face lit up, and she looked down, all excited!

"Oops, sorry," I giggled, brushing away at her pussy. "It was just a piece of lint. Nope, you're still as bald as an egg!"

"WAH! WAH!"

The second new rule was that Yvette lost her "wiping" privileges after using the bathroom. This meant that whenever she went potty, a "big person" had to inspect that she was clean.

Yvette HATED this more than anything!

She was required to put her head on the floor, pull open her ass cheeks, spread her vay-jay, and submit herself to an inspection. When Mrs. Lovington was busy and it was our turn to inspect, Timmy and me always did the same thing: No matter how clean she was, we'd complain that she was still dirty - just so we could poke around her privates and "clean" her ourselves:

"You went pee-pee, Yvette? Bend over and spread yourself so we can inspect."

"This - this isn't necessary! Fuck you! GO AWAY!!"

"Do we need to call Mum, or are you going to be a GOOD little girl?" threatened Timmy.

"I'll... I'll be a good girl. Please don't call her!"

Yvette slowly shuffled her feet away from the toilet, took a deep breath, and then bent over, pulling apart her ass and vagina.

"Very nice, Little Yvette! You're getting so much better! But I think you're STILL wet!"

"NO I'M NOT!! AND DON'T CALL ME LITTLE!!"

With the toilet paper wrapped around my finger: POKE, POKE, POKE!

"See? You're STILL wet!"

"Your - your hand!" she whimpered.

POKE, POKE, POKE.

"OOOHHH!! YOU'RE TOUCHING MY - MY... OOOOOHHHH!" she moaned.

POKE, POKE, POKE!

"Gee, now your little hoo-ha is REALLY glistening! For some strange reason, you're even WETTER now!"

POKE, POKE, POKE!

"I HATE YOU!!" she wailed.

But even better was seeing arrogant Abby getting punished: Mrs. Lovington decided that her portly niece needed to lose some weight, so the top-heavy girl was forced to do naked workouts in the backyard every morning and every evening. Sometimes I'd wake-up extra early, just so I could soak in the sight of Abby doing her early-morning squats and leg-lifts in all her naked glory!

Mrs. Lovington gave us permission to hose off Abby after her workouts, when she was all sweaty and dirty.

"No way! It's bad enough those DORKS spy on me when I'm exercising! I HATE exercising naked!" she hollered, waving her fists.

"You have to exercise naked because you're simply too fat for any of your clothes to fit, dear," Mrs. Lovington coolly replied. "You can't have a decent workout when your clothes are cutting-off your circulation."

Abby fumed, but still tried to argue: "Well, they're not allowed to hose me! NO!! I - I can come inside to shower!"

"It's not sanitary, dear," the Empress answered. "I don't want you dripping your smelly sweat all over the house."

"But - but - but... AUNT LACY!!"

"No buts!"

So after watching arrogant Abby's blubber bounce for an hour-or-so, we'd grab the garden hose.

"This way, 'Flabby Abby!'" giggled Timmy, pointing at a wall on the left side of the house.

"Shut up, you creep! SHUT UP!!" Abby bellowed. You could practically see smoke billowing out of her ears!

"Ha, ha!" I giggled. "'Flabby Abby' - that's a good one!"

"You two are just jealous of me!" Abby stubbornly insisted.

"Jealous of what, Flabby Abby? Of how much you can eat?"

I guess that comment cut deep, because Abby's face turned bright red, her lip trembled, and she suddenly started bawling. It was a remarkable visual: Timmy's older cousin, stripped of her clothes, howling like a baby! Her big belly and cartoonishly large boobs heaved up and down; her thick black bush below was dripping with perspiration. She didn't stop crying as she walked to the left side of the house. But suddenly, she paused:

"Timmy! The cars on the street! The neighbors! They can see everything! You... you can't hose me here. You CAN'T!"

"Then we better be fast!" he taunted. He looked over to me: "Turn the water on!"

I turned the knob. The high-powered hose released a torrent of water! Abby was knocked backwards, stumbling until she was pressed against the wall of the house.

"AAAAHHH!" she screamed, quickly becoming a drenched rat.

"Okay, Flabby Abby: Lift your arm! Good girl. Now your other arm. Let's clean both of your stinky armpits. Good! Okay, now your boobs - ready, aim, FIRE!"

Timmy aimed the hose squarely on Abby's big tits, and those suckers bounced and swung like a piñata on a string! Up, down, left, right! Abby tried to hold onto them, but they were bouncing too wildly!

"S - STOP IT!! STOP IT!! STOP MAKING MY TITTIES BOUNCE!!"

A small group of neighborhood rubberneckers had stopped to see the excitement, and I noticed that the cars on the street were driving by awfully slowly...

"Okay, Flabby Abby: Let's get that big ol' butt of yours clean. Turn around, bend over and part the Red Sea!"

"I'll get even with you T - Timmy!" Abby screamed, her teeth chattering and her nipples now diamond-hard. "I'll g - get even with you if it's the last thing I do!"

But she turned around nonetheless, bent over, and separated her massive cheeks.

It was incredible! Not only could we see the small circle of her anus, but we could also see her hairy pussy lips! They were clearly visible between her thunder-thighs! Timmy adjusted the nozzle so the water came out in two streams - and managed to hit both her holes at the same time!"

"Ohhhhhh!! OOOHHH!! T - TIMMY!! TIIIIMMMMYYY!!" she squealed. "Y - You need to stop... Stop it! SSSSTOP!"

Then, second later: "DON'T STOP! DON'T STOP! OOOOHHHHHHH!!"

She fell to her knees. Her big boobs were on the wet grass and she was on all fours, grunting like a pig - but Timmy kept the hose 100 percent on target!

"I - I - I'M CUMMING!! OOOOOOHHHHH!!"

She dropped flat to her belly, then rolled on her back with her legs in the air - and Timmy was relentless, keeping the hose aimed squarely at both her holes at all times, not giving Abby a moment to catch her breath.

"OOOOHHH!! I - I - OOOOOOHHHHHHH!! OOOOOOOOHHH!! GODDDDDDD!!"

Suddenly Flabby Abby began bucking her hips, moving them up and down! I've never seen her move so fast! It looked like she was fucking the Invisible Man!

Timmy put down the hose and stared intently. So did I. So did the neighborhood kids... and the long line of cars on the street. Abby paid no attention to any of us and continued bucking her hips at a furious rate.

Then she stopped in mid-thrust - ejecting a milk-like liquid from her pussy!

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!! AHH!! AH!! AH! ...Ah! ...ah."

Abby contently looked up, as if awakening from a wonderful dream. Confusion, then dread filled her eyes as she saw the audience of people watching her! One of the neighbors started clapping - and we all joined in! Her jaw dropped and her face turned strawberry-red. Abby was SOOO embarrassed!

"WAHHHH!!"

She covered her face in shame and sprinted back to the house - her flabby buns wobbling behind her!

Mrs. Lovington was pissed at her nieces, but she was mostly fixated on having her revenge on Rachel Trovolli. Finally, after so many night of strategizing, a plan was set:

February 14 was Valentine's Day, and the City of Middletown always had a big Valentine's Day Festival. The marquee event was the crowning of Middletown's two Queens (one for adults, the other for kids). Lacy Lovington had been crowned Queen the past seven years in a row... but this time, she said she was going to rig the contest so Rachel would win.

Let me explain:

Each year, the Queen would stand on a stage, with the whole town watching. It was supposedly a big honor. There'd be music and dancing, and the Queen would sit on a throne that was built just for her, overseeing the party.

I told Mrs. Lovington that I didn't understand how the plan was supposed to work - I mean, what was so humiliating about being crowned Queen of Middletown? But Mrs. Lovington just smiled maliciously...

The next day, Mrs. Lovington invited Timmy and me to accompany her to Pete's Pool House, the dingiest, dirtiest pool bar in town. It also happened to be where Rachel Trovolli slammed shots of Jack and hustled games on the side. I couldn't figure out WHY she wanted us to come with her... until we stepped inside:

Mrs. Lovington was nervous as hell! And looking around, I couldn't really blame her: The place was packed with scruffy-looking bikers, long-haired rebels and sleazy biker-babes. It was definitely NOT your typical Sunday Social at the Middletown Yacht Club!

All eyes were on Lacy Lovington. The music stopped, the drinking stopped - everyone turned around and stared.

"Er... I'm looking for Miss Rachel Trovolli," Mrs. Lovington said, forcing a contrived smile across her face. "Has any of you... ladies and gentlemen seen her?"

In her patented black leather pants, black leather jacket and spiked heels, Rachel coolly walked over, holding her pool cue.

"Good afternoon, Lacy!" the brunette cooed. "So lovely to see you again. And my, what a pretty dress! Did you buy it at the Big & Tall store?"

The crowd began to laugh and Mrs. Lovington turned bright red. But somehow, she managed to maintain her smile and retorted:

"Why, no dear. This dress is an Italian import, but I'm sure you're unfamiliar with it. After all, they don't make it in kid's sizes."

Now it was Rachel's turn to blush. Showing just a hint of anger, the diminutive brown-haired beauty gritted her teeth.

"Cut to the chase, Lacy. What are you doing here?"

Mrs. Lovington put her hands on her hips and posed sexily. (And I have to say, she DID look sexy. Despite Rachel's snide comment, the dress fit her wonderfully - hugging her curves and showing off her ample cleavage. Those big boobs of hers were squeezed together and defying gravity!) The MILF let the drama build before answering: "Rachel, dear. I have good news! You've been named the new Queen of the Middletown City Valentine's Day Festival!"

"Wh... what?" Rachel asked, stunned by the announcement. A few folks in the bar began to applaud. "Isn't being the Queen your deal, Lacy?"

"Oh, somehow I'm sure they'll find a suitable role for me," Mrs. Lovington grandly replied, walking over to where Rachel was playing pool. "But congratulations! You'll be crowned Queen of the whole town, everyone will cheer you, and you'll receive a $5 thousand dollar check!"

Now, $5 thousand dollars might've been peanuts to Mrs. Lovington and her high-society friends, but to the rest of us, it was a LOT of money.

Rachel was speechless, so Mrs. Lovington leaned forward, lurching over the corner of the pool table, and spoke loudly enough for everyone to hear: "...And no offense, dear, but you look like you could use the money. Your wardrobe... tsk, tsk!"

Blushing again, Rachel thought for a moment - and then raised her pool cue. "I'll tell you what, Lacy: If I miss this shot, I'll accept the crown as the Queen of Middletown. Deal?"

And then, with a devilish grin, Rachel took her shot. BAM: The billiard ball popped right off the table - flew in the air - and landed right in the center of Mrs. Lovington's cleavage!

"Oops, guess I missed!" grinned Rachel.

Mrs. Lovington turned red again, and tried to discreetly grope inside the top of her dress to retrieve the billiard ball... but it had sunk too deeply between her enormous boobs!

"Here, let me help you," Rachel said, pointing the end of her pool cue directly at Mrs. Lovington's tits. Rachel pushed the pool cue inside the fabric - and yanked down hard:

Her dress ripped right down the middle.

The billiard ball rolled out... and so did BOTH of Mrs. Lovington's big tits!

It felt like everything was moving in slow motion: Mrs. Lovington's dress was ripped right down to the belly button, and those giant tits of hers simply EXPLODED out, bouncing up and down. Before all our eyes - those legendary, bouncing breasts! Unlike her niece Abby, Mrs. Lovington's areolas were more oval-shaped than round, adorned with a collection of dark-pink bumps, with a two-inch-long nipple jutting out of the center. But the rest of her breasts were eerily similar to Abby's: Ungodly huge, milky pale and ultra-saggy. And now they were swinging around wildly in the middle of Pete's Pool House!

The crowd stood up and cheered before Mrs. Lovington could even react. But when she finally did:

"OH MY GOD!! OH MY GOD!! MY TITS!! MY TITS!!"

The prim and proper MILF was flapping her arms hysterically. But to her dismay (and everyone else's enjoyment) this only made those gargantuan jugs of hers jiggle in every direction possible! They were flying left and right - like nunchucks! And her nipples were hardening before our eyes!

"Looky them tittties!" an old man yelled. "I've been wanting to see those puppies for YEARS!"

"OH MY GOD!!"

"They're saggier than I thought they'd be," the old man added.

"OH MY GOD!!"

Timmy jumped up and covered his mother's breasts with his jacket.

"Gee, sorry about that, Lacy," said Rachel with a grin. "So where do I go to pick-up my shiny new crown and $5 thousand dollars?"

Bright-red and hiding her chest in her son's jacket, Mrs. Lovington stumbled back several steps.

"You - you!" she stammered. "M - my tits! My TITS!! You showed everyone my TITS!!"

"Yes, and they're very impressive," Rachel acknowledged, not missing a beat. "But what about my crown and money?"

"You - you need to come down to Josephine's Boutique tomorrow at 11:00 a.m. to have your measurements taken," Mrs. Lovington spat out, still stumbling backwards.

"My... my measurements?" gasped Rachel. Suddenly, all the bravado was drained from her voice.

"Yes, your measurements," said Mrs. Lovington, regaining some of her swagger. "You need to be fitted for your Queen's dress and gown, of course."

Rachel's hands unconsciously went to cover her chest.

"I - I can write down my measurements on my own. I don't need to be measured!"

Almost immediately, Mrs. Lovington's swagger had returned: "Don't be silly, dear. The tailor has to be precise - and besides, it's not like you have anything to hide! I mean, you don't stuff your bra, do you?"

This time Rachel was the one who was blushing!

"N - no! No, of course not! I don't stuff my bra!"

"Good. We'll see you tomorrow at 11:00 a.m.!"

At another pool table, someone else hit a billiard ball. It popped off the table - and fell down the BACK of Mrs. Lovington's dress!