[tomb125]

Primrose hoped to heaven she could get through this without any more embarrassment. Now beet-red under the hot stage lights, she felt tiny beads of sweat beginning to pop out on her face and shoulders. She rose unsteadily and slowly approached the cake table holding her legs tightly together in an effort to keep her dress together and her panties from dropping any lower. The room fell silent and the sound of Primrose’s heels clicking was heard over the sound system. Primrose desperately hoped she could remain to the rear of the assembled VPs avoiding showing anyone her torn dress so she stopped at the back of the table. Again her hopes at avoiding further exposure were ruined when Mr. Bastermats called Primrose to his side at the very front of the stage.

She bit her lip and with flawed consolation said to herself “at least she would only be ‘showing her ass’ to six VPs and not the whole audience”. As she moved forward and took her place alongside the president, she heard the VPs loudly murmur about her uncovered rear. The back seam had split to the middle of her bottom, mercifully still covered by her droopy bikini briefs. The VPs could see her stocking tops and both rear garters when she swished forward. As Mr. Bastermats rambled on, Primrose became painfully aware that her décolleté was dangerously low, and her areolas were beginning to peek out again. Worse still, with a loud “POP” her right dress shoulder strap snapped and flew forward so the audience could see. The partially unsupported neckline settled lower as employees and their families began to laugh out loud at the spectacle she was making. “Oooo..ooo..ooo” The flabbergasted Primrose abandoned decorum and tried to haul her dress up but this caused a tear on her left side to grow to over a foot long down her leg. Everyone in the audience could see her stocking top and pink garter. Primrose gasped “Oh my God, no, please not this!” as her dress was literally coming apart at the seams!

The elderly Bastermats remained oblivious to her dishabille and thought the growing uproar was only the audience laughing at his corny jokes. All of a sudden, the old company president took Primrose’s gloved hand and took a deep bow to thank his employees. As Primrose was dragged into the bow, “KABOOM” her dress literally exploded from her body. The silky material fell to the stage and slithered off onto the floor below-quite out of reach. Beneath the searing spotlights, the stunned Primrose was standing holding hands with Mr. Bastermats in her hat & veil, gloves, bustier, panties, stockings and heels. The entire ballroom erupted with laughter and cheering as people were delighted to see this snooty boss get her just desserts - just wait for dessert! Looking down at herself with eyes as big as saucers, she saw her large breasts pushing out of the cups of the bustier so that both stiffening nipples were nearly visible. Besides tightening her teats, the cool air and Primrose’s abject humiliation caused her considerable exposed flesh to become covered in goose pimples, further adding to her absurd appearance. Many hook and eye fasteners on her bustier had failed and bare skin appeared in the gaps. Still frozen upright and staring further down, she saw her garters were stretched to the limit pressing into her thighs. Her panties drooped low enough for half her outrageous heart-shaped bush to show as well as over a third of her butt crack. She howled and clapped her arms around her body as the president became aware of what had happened. Primrose stared into the audience red-faced in her smalls realizing that she would never live this down. In city and corporation history she would be remembered as the pompous tart who ate so many sweets she burst out of her dress in front of the whole company.

The old man gripped Primrose around the waist and said “here Dearie, let me help” but this caused both bustier shoulder straps to fail “PING & PING” propelling both Primrose’s moist breasts into the night air. Her nipples resembled pencil erasers. Primrose gawked at her chest dumbfounded and shrieked “my b…b…b-boobs!” She desperately tried to cover both plump sweat-covered breasts and hunched forward, knees together in the classic ENF pose as she looked from side to side across the audience unable to grasp her humiliation. All she saw were laughing expressions and people pointing at her. Her face now the color of an eggplant, a dark blush spread across her chest and breasts. From behind her a cheeky VP shouted, “I didn’t expect another full moon this month!” A befuddled Primrose, hands occupied forward shielding tits and puss, stared back over her should with a sour expression and saw through her veil with wide eyes, first the laughing VPs pointing and then down to her generous jiggling pink bottom, fully exposed. Her hunching forward and twisting had caused her damaged panties to sag below her delightful ripe buns. Exposing her tits, she reached back and clutched the side string a little too hard, snapping it as she tried to pull her panties up. “NOOOO, Oh, Oh..!” she wailed as the flimsy torn triangles fell to the stage. Her gloved hand flew to cover her rear, smacking her ass with an audible “CRACK” forcing the mortified lass to “YELP” and hop forward as a result of her own spanking! Her hand left a distinct red palm print on her pale ass.

This hilarious scene cause the audience to really go bananas and the noise became nearly deafening. Speaking of deaf, the determined Mr. Bastermats was determined to help Primrose so he turned get her down from the stage. At this point Primrose was bouncing with embarrassment hopping from heel to heel spinning in circles as she comically tried to cover her big boobs, trimmed brown bush, and bare bottom with only her small hands. Her bustier was reduced to a pink garter belt of sorts and was straining to hold up her stockings. Someone shouted “I knew the the carpet didn’t match the d****s!” and more laughter followed. Prim whimpered and slapped both hands over her sex! Finally the old president reached Primrose and put his hands on her shoulders. She wheeled to face him; one hand holding a single large boob, the other squeezed in her soaking crotch. Just then a rear garter failed “ZING” and shot from its clasp at the stocking, snapping upward and popping Prim’s plump ass cheek with a painful “CRACK!” With her mouth forming the perfect “O”, the stung Primrose shrieked “OOOWIE!” and hopped forward colliding with Mr. Bastermats and the cake table. What happened next was the talk of Puttyville for the rest of the decade. The table collapsed and all its contents crashed to the stage. Primrose, mouth still wide open, plunged face-first into the cake. Mr. Bastermats tumbled off the stage where the front row of spectators caught him safely. The disgraced Primrose peered through the frosting-covered face veil, her mouth stuffed with a large candy rose, at the crowd laughing and pointing at her. Her face full of cake, she felt like crying as she wondered how this horrible day could be any worse. Here she was naked, sprawled atop a ruined cake created in her honor, with her bare derriere framed gorgeously by her garter belt, wriggling skyward and her heels in the air.

She bellowed at Annie “If you don’t help me immediately, you will regret it forever!” The long-suffering Annie, who had been laughing along with the other VPs, thought she should do what is right and went to help her boss. As soon as Annie helped the disgraced VP to her feet, Primrose spun away from her yelling “don’t stare at me you twit!” Prim covered her messy boobs with one hand and her pussy with the other. Primrose’s high heels slipped on the cake frosting-covered stage and as her feet flew out from under her, she sat down hard on the remains of her cake. Prim’s eyes nearly bugged out of her head as large amounts of ice-cold sponge cake and chilled frosting (not to mention a bulbous candy rose) were forced between her cheeks. Primrose again struggled to her feet, barmy with humiliation, began running for the door, her newly-chilled and frosted bottom bouncing behind her. She ran sobbing “oooh, oooh, owie, oh its sooo cold, no, oh, oooh” to the lobby as the audience cheered. Here she found unfortunately dozens of spectators, a fire crew, and two news crews with live camera feeds. In the tiled lobby, the unfortunate Primrose lost her footing and sailed directly into the fountain, astride the sitting boy. She landed on her elbows and knees as if about to be spanked by the bronze youth statue! Her soaked mop of hair hanging over her purple face and puffing red cheeks, bare bottom thrust skyward, knees apart showing the world her feminine charms in all their aroused glory. Her big chocolaty breasts swayed beneath her as her still-stiff nipples brushed the granite base. Prim’s ass was high in the air and her once-fashionable fascinator hat and frosted veil made her look ridiculous. Her cake-covered face was a mask of shame. A laughing reporter stuck a microphone in front of her face and asked her “Mrs. Dubois, how was the party? It’s obvious you loved the cake!” Before the gobsmacked Primrose could splutter a reply, the frog sprayed jets of water right into Prim’s bottom and quivering quim with considerable pressure. Experiencing both an enema and a douche at once, Primrose lost her composure and burst into tears sobbing “this can’t be happening to me! Waaahhh, Waahh!” She rolled out of the fountain showing the cameras her soaked sn*tch and ran clicking out of the crowded lobby, her boobs and bottom wobbling to and fro. Primrose paid no attention to the valet as she bolted into the street and right in front of the reviewing stand for the holiday parade where she was met by a hundred spectators. The startled valet could hardly recognize the naked woman in heels, garters and stockings wheeling in embarrassment in front of the crowds and cameras, but then suddenly realized his earlier wish was answered.