Reposting Primrose Dubois’s Disrobing Disasters
 

I am reposting my stories here in chronological order. Please feel free to comment and make suggestions. Thanks, tomb125.

Primrose Has Her Cake
 

Primrose Has Her Cake


**All characters are 21 years or older**


Introduction


Primrose DuBois at 32 years was a striking beauty of the full-figured variety. She stood 69 inches tall and weighed 145 pounds and while not fat, she had certainly gained several pounds since here youth. She exercised to stay fit, but she has a fondness for sweets. To say she was curvy would have put it mildly. She was a dazzling brunette naturally, but liked to dye her hair blonde. Primrose was VP of operations for The Bastermats Chemical Company in the city of Puttyville and saw herself as the leading influence in both the company and the city. While a very capable executive, she was brassy and had a large mean streak. She was known for her lack of respect for those she considered beneath her, professionally and socially. She felt herself glamourous and loved to be the center of attention….


At Henriette’s, the new pâtisserie in Puttyville, Friday noon


“Annie, I thought I was clear, I want this event to be spectacular” said Primrose as she ate the last bite of the cheesecake from her plate. “To go with the beautiful cake Kate’s Cake Shop has prepared, I want candles-lots of them”. Prim’s oft-chastened deputy VP of operations and oft personal assistant, Annie replied, “Yes Mrs. DuBois, I ordered 50 very nice tiny pink candles”. “Fine Annie, but don’t forget the cake symbolize my remarkable contributions to the company”. Primrose continued, “This party marks my one-year anniversary with Bastermats and I want everyone to know it!” “Yes, Mrs. DuBois, I understand completely”, responded Annie. As Primrose instructed the waiter to bill the company for her treat, she told Annie, “Don’t forget to pick up my dress and run it to my house tomorrow. Annie said “Yes, Mrs. DuBois”. Primrose gave Annie the claim check and noticed the number 74 on the top. As they were leaving, Prim remarked to the waiter, “your cheesecake is excellent but your service is lacking”. “You really should hire more staff, young man”. The waiter, very familiar with Primrose, rolled his eyes.


Beth’s Dress Shop, Saturday morning


Annie hurried in the shop from the rain. When the owner Beth met her at the counter Annie presented the claim ticket for Primrose’s dress. The dress was a stunning shade of pink and cut to hug the figure very closely. It had a very low sweetheart neckline, wide shoulder straps, a 2-inch belt beneath the bust, and a very snug pencil skirt with a walking vent in the back. Annie was amazed how sexy it was. After picking up the dress and charging it to Primrose’s’ Bastermats expense account, Annie hurried to deliver the dress as instructed. As Beth was filing the claim tickets she though it odd she had worked on two identical pink dresses this week, one a size 6 and one a size 8. As she passed the racks for pickup, she recalled the owner of the size 6 would not need hers for another week. As Beth walked to the back of the store, she did not notice the pink dress remaining was tagged number 74 and was a size 8….


The stately home of Primrose, Saturday Afternoon


At home, Primrose was soaking in her Jacuzzi bath dreaming of the Edward French, the new VP of finance. She felt he would surely be smitten after her performance tonight and she could then develop their friendship into a romantic affair. Surely he would forgo his homely wife for her sophisticated charms! In anticipation of him, she had shaved her lovely brown bush into the shape of a heart. She touched herself with the loofa in the steamy candle-lit room imagining him ravishing her body with his manhood and then more. After nearly boiling the bath water with her reverie, she was startled by the clock chiming and realized she must now get moving. She towed off and dried her hair then she continued prepping her coiffure with a new product from France that Primrose had to try because it was so expensive at the boutique she frequented. After her hair, she finished her makeup and moved to her dressing room where here clothes were laid out. First Primrose donned her sturdy yet elegant pink support hose. Then she put on her delicate demi-bra and went to open her dress bag. She though it odd that the claim number on the attached ticket was 47. She could have sworn that she remembered it being 74. No bother, she went about unzipping the sexy Jean-Paul Gaultier creation and putting it on. “Whaa?” she whined, this dress was far tighter than she recalled during her fitting sessions. Perhaps it was the cheesecake? ”More likely an incompetent seamstress!” Primrose fumed. She struggled with the zipper but finally got it closed and fastened the hook at the top. She pulled on her designer Magli four-inch heels and swept in front of the full length mirror. Prim looked amazingly provocative, even sexy in the dress, but the outfit was straining quite a bit. The neckline dipped very low displaying her swelling breasts to their best. The slit up the rear was alarmingly high. She reminded herself to be careful and not make any sudden stoops or bends lest disaster strike. Primrose tittered to herself imagining a minor wardrobe malfunction in the presence of Edward which caused him an embarrassing visible erection.


As she moved to get her necklace, her leg brushed against the dressing table leg and she heard a terrible ripping noise, but certainly not the last one she would be hearing tonight. She looked down and saw her hose had caught on an errand nail and shredded all up her left leg clearly visible through the rear vent. Now she was in trouble indeed as the hose were the last pair she had. Her mind raced as she carefully took off the dress. She realized she would have no hope of squeezing into the dress without the “support” offered by the now ruined support hose. She tore through her three walk-in closets hoping to find some more hose but came up empty handed.


Just when she considered calling Annie and making this as usual her problem, Primrose spied an older lingerie case in the back of a drawer. Inside from years ago early in her first marriage, was a pair of seamed pink silk stockings, a sexy pink bustier complete with shoulder straps and garters, and a tiny pair of string bikini panties. She breathed a deep sigh of relief for the bustier would provide the “support’ needed to get into her dress. The memories this outfit brought back were also very fond although her first husband was a real loser. As she held the bustier up, she noticed it was indeed designed for a more slender woman. Still, it was her only option. Primrose though the combination smelled a bit stale which simply wouldn’t do if things worked out as planned with Edward tonight. She had just enough time to tumble them in the dryer with a jasmine-scent pouch. Failing to check the faded washing care tags she popped the lingerie in a bag then into the dryer for 10 minutes while she checked her makeup. What she forgot about these unmentionables was they were never to be machine dried, only line dried. Combined with their age, the hot drier cooked up a disaster in-the-making for Primrose.


She cooed as she positioned the drier-warm and perfumed bustier to her full chest and fastened the many hook and eye loop fasteners to secure it around her midsection! She was careful pulling up the tiny should straps for fear the aging and delicate material would tear. Although it was very snug, the garment seemed secure. Next Primrose slid on the sexy stockings and thought how much better they looked than the support hose. She lengthened the garters and fastened them to her stockings. Finally the panties and these would be a trick indeed as they were at least two sizes too small. She glided them up her silky thighs gingerly and positioned the side strings to provide the most possible coverage. She caught herself in the mirror and gasped. She blushed at her appearance. She looked like a pink pastry puff. The bustier cups were brimming with her large breasts. Her areolas were clearly visible above each cup and Primrose’s nipples were ready to spring forth as well. The shoulder straps strained against her curvy shoulders indenting the flesh slightly but held fast for now. Her sexy belly protruded slightly across the six inches between the bottom of the bustier and her low panty line. Her lovely bellybutton winked. The garters were pulled taut holding up her stockings. They seemed to be in a tugging match with her shoulder straps and dimpled the flesh of her thighs where they attached to her stockings. Atop the garters and low on Primrose’s hips were the tiny panties. The side strings pressed into her hips imprinting her flesh only so slightly. The tiny front triangle did not completely cover the top of her bush! The back was equally minimal with much of her generous cheeks exposed as well as nearly an inch of butt crack. Primrose tugged here and there at the panties, but she could not get them to cover more. Primrose felt slightly breathless staring in the full length mirror and grasped she was scarcely covered and barely contained by her choice of lingerie. Still, everything was holding together. Just as before, she reminded herself to be careful and not make any sudden movements or something would jiggle free. Maybe this deadly combination would send Edward falling into her arms. She put her dress back on feeling reassured as the zip closed without too much struggle. She completed her look with gloves, solid gold bracelets, a long pearl necklace, diamond earrings, a fascinator hat with a small net veil. She just finished as her butler and driver rang the doorbell. He nearly lost his breath when she opened the door and came out. Primrose’s heels clicked loudly as she walked to her door he held open. As she got in, he thought he heard a popping sound from Primrose as she slid across the seat, but could not be sure. He held his tongue as she preferred and drove her to the gala.


The Mark Hotel, Bastermats Annual Holiday Gala, Saturday evening


At the hotel, a teenage valet held the door open for Primrose and helped her out. Like the driver earlier, he thought he heard the noise of a splitting seam as Primrose rose to her feet. He didn’t notice anything amiss with this beautiful lady’s dress so he remained silent. She told the boy haughtily “since all gratuities are included in the banquet package I prepared, I am forgoing your tip”. Curbing his anger, he politely answered “yes ma’am” and went about parking her car. As he climbed behind the wheel, he wished just once these puffed-up females would get their comeuppance. Luckily for him, he would see it happen tonight!


Primrose turned many heads as she clicked loudly, strolling through the lobby. In the lobby was a fountain with the statue of a seated boy splashing with a small frog on his knee. The frog was spraying water intermittently onto the laughing boy. “Humph” she critiqued under he breath, “lousy neo-classical B.S. That kid needs a spanking”
She continued into the ballroom where cocktails were being served. She popped two bonbons in her mouth and ordered a manhattan before sidling alongside Edward French who was talking with Annie. ‘Oh Eddie, isn’t this party my assistant Annie helped me put together wonderful?” Edward reminded Primrose Annie was the deputy operations VP. He said they were talking about a new product line. Primrose stole him away with “oh now, it is not the time to talk about business” “We are here to celebrate”. As she took his hand, Primrose took too-big of a step toward the bar. She did not hear the “rrrrzrzr” of the rear vent seam ripping from hem three inches upward. Edward wasn’t sure but he believed he saw the dark welts of stocking tops peeking out of Primrose’s elongated rear vent as she let him along. So cocktail hour and dinner went, Primrose dominated Edward’s attention in spite of his wife. Primrose also took the opportunity to belittle several “underlings” as well as make cutting remarks about rival executives. She showering the company president with platitudes and took every opportunity to promote her achievements this year. It was now dinner time and everyone took their seats. While the employees and families sat at tables around the ballroom, the VPs all sat together on a raised central stage. As dinner ended, Primrose felt pretty loose as she had three more manhattans, wine, and polished off a prime rib dinner...


Just before the break after dinner, Primrose preparing to rise, looked over and noticed the dress seam along her right side had split open about four inches along her hip exposing pink skin bisected by the lacy strap of her panties. Flushing, she used her napkin as cover, rose quickly and made her way to the ladies room lounge. Fortunately, the attendant there had a safety pin and Primrose was able to pin the dress back together hiding her hip for now. She tried to adjust her panties too as they had wedged themselves uncomfortably into her ass. While she did manage to extract the silky fabric from her bottom, in doing so, she inadvertently broke the elastic of the fragile panties.


Taking the podium atop the raised stage centered in the large ballroom. Primrose looked like a pink empress at nearly six feet in her heels. She tapped the mic to get attention and began “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you so much for coming to this lovely banquet I prepared for our company this year.” “We are ready to recognize the efforts of all you worker bees out there and present some lovely plaques to a select few”. On and on she droned as the VPs winced each time she inflated herself and diminished all others save the company president, the elderly Mr. Bastermats. Her remarks angered the audience. Primrose tried to act not totally bored presenting two dozen awards for employees who worked very hard for this recognition. She mispronounced every other name because she neither cared nor thought it important to show any respect to these subordinates.


Awards presented, Primrose called for Annie to bring out the amazing cake as the lights went down. Then, the bright spots came up on the stage illuminating the cake to be an enormous four-layered creation with velvet chocolate mousse, sponge cake, covered with pink cream frosting and dozens of candy roses. Atop it were three dozen glowing tiny candles. Next to the cake was the yearly statuette for top manager hidden beneath a velvet cloth for the formal unveiling. Primrose noticed how hot the stage had become and felt a bead of sweat trickle down her back. Distracted, she stammered while trying to describe the fantastic year the company enjoyed. “As you all must understand, I have been fortu..ooooohh….” “excuse me”. Primrose faltered alarmingly as her panties started slowly creeping down her hips. She could feel the fabric of her tight dress against her now-bare bottom where her panties should be. She awkwardly crossed her legs, pressed together, as she tried to continue. Her forehead beaded with perspiration as she racked her brain as to how she would fix this in public. As Primrose resumed her speech explaining the metrics to measure their record breaking year, “To be sure, it was the leadership. and... ‘PING’! suppppooorrrt…” Prim spluttered. The high-waist belt beneath her décolleté abruptly popped open and dropped to the floor, its buckle clattering noisily drawing titters from the crowd. “Whaaa…??” she exclaimed, looking dumbfounded down at her belt. Primrose automatically began to bend over to retrieve her belt when she heard (as did some astute folks in the front row) a series of “POP-POP-POPS” then felt an awful loosening of her bustier. She felt her face grow hot as she sensed the new strains her dress was now under. She bolted upright so fast she popped the safety pin and split the side of her dress open although only the VPs on the far side saw her flesh come into view. The bisecting panty string was no longer visible as it was now flying at “half-mast” with the rest of her miniscule drawers! The flummoxed Primrose brought her speech to an abrupt ending as she screamed to herself “I have to get out of here now!”


Just as she was ready to turn the ceremony over, Primrose did not see the cake cutter Annie was to have placed on the small table near the cake for Mr. Bastermats to cut the cake with. “Why was Annie always forgetting the details?” Primrose then heard some more snickering in the front row and wondered if something was wrong. One girl was pointing at her neckline. She glanced down and noticed her right breast was rising above her dress with its pink areole in plain sight. Her eyes widened comically as she stared down mouth agape at her chest now moist with sweat. She noticed her blush spreading across her bosom. “Hold on… please” she whimpered to herself. Gasping, she spun quickly around to the VPs seated behind her and made the neckline correction while whispering loudly to Annie, “where is the damned cake knife?” Annie scuttled forward with the knife noticing up close Prim’s impending disaster. She started laughing on her way back to her seat. “Now, please welcome your president, Mr. Earl E. Bastermats” Primrose rattled, so anxious to get off stage. “Sir, if you would quickly take your place for your closing remarks, the statues reveal, and finally cut the cake” The old man was taking forever climbing the stairs onto the stage. “Will you please get up here now?” Primrose exclaimed, too loudly. Thanks to the excellent sound system everyone heard her except the deaf Mr. Bastermats. Peals of laughter resonated following her last remark as the audience understood Primrose was desperate to get out of the spotlights.


Without warning, the overtaxed and already torn vent seam on the rear of Primrose’s straining dress split loudly “RRRRIIPP” from the hem to just below her barely-pantied bottom. The VPs including Annie giggled when they saw Primrose’s predicament. “Aaaahhh...” Primrose quickly shot her hand back and felt her behind. She craned her head around to confirm the damage. She had to run. The audience knew Primrose was having another wardrobe malfunction because she had one hand over her bottom and was looking at her rear as well as the grinning VPs. As the audience began guffawing, the red-faced Primrose sputtered “damn it all”. Those “morons’ seated behind her had a view of her beautiful legs as well as her stocking tops and garters. The blushing Primrose quickly took to her heels and clicked back to her seat with her hands covering her rear, careful not to flash the audience. As she hurriedly sat, she heard “ZRRRAAAZZ” as the rear seam split still further. The leather chair cover chilled the bare skin of the backs of her thighs where her stockings ended. The chortling VPs could barely contain themselves and certainly were not anxious to help her. Primrose blushed furiously as she tried to think of a way out of this situation. As she squirmed in her seat, she thought “maybe Annie could fetch me a coat?” Just then, Mr. Bastermats called all the VPs up to help him cut the cake. Primrose breathed a sigh of relief as the VPs moved forward and gathered around the cake. This was her chance to slip out through the curtain behind the stage. Just as she was rising to bolt to the rear, her hopes evaporated when Mr. Bastermats announced over microphone “I would be especially honored for Mrs. Primrose DuBois to join me at my side and share in this glorious reveal”. What a reveal followed!


Primrose hoped to God 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 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. In 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 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 crashing into 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, totally bonkers with humiliation, began running for the door, her newly-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 into the fountain, astride the sitting boy. She landed on her elbows and knees as if about to be spanked by the bronze boy 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 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.

A slow burn
 

A nice, slow burn, very well written!

More to follow soon!

Primrose’s Wedding, A Bride of a Different Feather Part 1_v2
 

Prequel, Primrose’s Wedding, A Bride of a Different Feather Part 1

This is a prequel of my previous story; Primrose Has Her Cake. It covers Primrose’s earlier wedding to her first husband and is a tale of equally embarrassing experiences.

**All Characters are 21 and older**


Introduction


Primrose DuBois was a beauty of 23 years old when she decided she should take advantage of her friendly relationship with Miles Jameson. The ginger-haired Miles while well-built and lightly muscled, was what she considered a soft, somewhat effeminate young man but his family was fabulously wealthy and if Primrose could betroth Miles, she would be very comfortable for the rest of her life. After all, who was to say she couldn’t play the field so to speak, if Miles did not satisfy her considerable needs. The weakling Miles would never have the guts to confront her let alone ask for a divorce if he ever suspected her of cheating.


After an accelerated wooing, Primrose postured herself for becoming his fiancé. The trouble was the nervous Miles would never pop the question. No matter how Primrose led him on with necking and heavy petting, the young man would not commit. Determined to succeed, Primrose came up with a plan to reel him in. While dating, she learned Miles was enamored with old fashioned lingerie such as seamed stockings, girdles, silky panties, push up bras, and suspender belts. As she was keen on these as well and had a good collection started, her foundation underwear would be the foundation Prim's strategy! Throughout the courtship, Primrose was always using her bountiful and beautiful body, her practiced talents for teasing, and her sexy vintage lingerie to lead the old-fashioned Miles closer to proposing marriage. One particular night, as Miles was in a heightened state of arousal, Prim flashed her retro suspender belt and fully fashioned stocking tops to him and said, “Miles, if we were to be husband and wife, I will wear undies like these every day to both tease and please you.” Miles flushed then gushed, “When can we consummate our relationship, my dear Primmy?” “What a pathetic boy!” she thought to herself, but she dutifully cooed back in Miles’ ear “Only after we are wed, lover” as she mischievously squeezed his erection firmly with both hands. Miles nearly fainted. Her plan was foolproof, or so she thought.


November


By these means, Primrose coerced Miles to finally propose marriage and the wedding was set for July. Both Primroses’ father Gerald, and Miles’s somewhat dominatrix-like mother Alexandra, ensured the nuptials would be the biggest social event of the summer in Puttyville. The families opened their checkbooks to reserve the cathedral and its lawns for the outside party. They selected the best caterers and ordered hundreds of flowers. The wedding date coincided with the big city summer festival and even the arrival a circus. The guest list exceeded five hundred invitees, and a professional photographer was booked to take pictures and film the ceremony. The parents even invited the local television station to cover the spectacle. In anticipation for the big day (and night), Miles gave Primrose a beautiful diamond ring, a pearl necklace, platinum earrings, and lots of sexy lingerie. He also arranged for her to have a custom wedding gown made by the fashionable Beth’s Dress Shop. Prim gladly accepted the gifts from Miles but would not dream of having sex with him until required by marriage. Even after the wedding, she imagined she would have many “headaches”. The idea of making whoopee with this handsome wussy made her feel a bit queasy.


As the wedding plans solidified, Miles’s sister Genevieve, who Miles invited to be in the wedding party, began to understand what was going on between the couple. She understood Primrose was a greedy opportunist out for her own interests and cared little for Miles beyond his family's bank account. Genevieve also became aware Primrose had her eyes on Edward French, the new accounting manager from Bastermats Chemicals where Prim was recently employed as a junior operations manager. To protect her foppish brother, Genevieve would do nearly anything. She would definitely be on the lookout for any shenanigans while thinking of how to get rid of the predator Primrose.


The younger sister Genevieve was both strong and attractive and had protected her weakling brother through childhood and adolescence from all sorts of embarrassing situations. Once for example, some girls from the high school girls field hockey team ambushed the young Miles in the park while he was walking home from school. After roughing him up a bit, they relieved him of his shirt then pants leaving him cowering in only his small white briefs. After having a good laugh at the embarrassed teen, the mean girls then peeled off his skivvies leaving the hapless teen completely stark-naked. They even ran off with his shoes and socks! Exposed in park in the middle of the afternoon, the red-faced Miles streaked away and hid in some bushes until Genevieve came along heading home from cheerleading practice. She quickly drove off the taunting teens and then gave Miles her cheerleader practice uniform she was carrying in her gym bag. After squeezing into the outfit, Miles stood before his sis, looking ridiculous in the tiny pink sport bra and matching too-small boyshort panties emblazoned with the school motto, the 'Cup Cakes'. She covered her mouth and laughed as she saw him cringing in front of her blushing three shades of red. The small top stretched tightly across his smooth chest like a bandeau, his long midriff bare, and the panty-shorts just barely covered his swelling penis and left much of his cute bottom exposed in back. “Can we pleeeease get going?” he pleaded, his voice cracking. He felt more exposed now than when he was completely nude-how was that possible? Genevieve tittered despite feeling sorry for her pathetic brother. “Follow me” Genevieve directed. The barefoot Miles minced along closely crouching behind his sister looking miserably at some amused people watching. He felt not only utterly humiliated, but strangely aroused wearing the revealing girly clothing in a public park. He was careful not to poke Genevieve in the bottom with his boner!

Primrose's Wedding, A Bride of a Different Feather Part 2_v2
 

Primrose's Wedding, A Bride of a Different Feather Part 2_v2

**All characters are 21 or older**


March


Primrose could not wait to design her own dress. She went to the shop to be fitted as soon as possible. In her designer heels, Prim clicked into Beth’s Dress and Formal Shop and haughtily announced she wanted the finest gown possible and it must be ready by July. Cost was no object, she declared. She wanted a form-fitting, strapless mermaid style gown with dozens of buttons up the back. Beth recommended the mermaid style may not be best for the voluptuous Primrose, but was quickly reminded by the bossy bride-to-be, "I know what I want!" “Ok,” thought Beth, “I will have some fun with this self-centered tart”. She told Primrose, “first things first Ma’am, we start with bare figures!” Primrose was discomfited when the shop proprietor not only instructed her to remove her designer dress, but then said she needed to measured Primrose’s height and weight. Flushing, Prim spun toward the dressing room, but Beth told her it was closed because it was just painted today. Beth asked her teenage assistant Tina to lock up the shop and pull the curtains. Apprehensively, Primrose unzipped her chic leather sheath dress and wriggled out of it. She stood now in the dress shop showroom in her underwear with only the thin sheers drawn to prevent passersby from peeping in. Prim was clad in a white push-up brassiere trimmed with pink flowers. Her magnificent breasts filled the cups and threatened to spill out the top of her bra along the lace edging. Tina giggled at Prim’s choice of underwear as Primrose’s hot face reddened. Prim still wore her white petti-slip, and Tina thought she could make out the lines of garters beneath the thin silk. “The slip has to go for accuracy”, Beth announced smiling as she was completely enjoying herself. The mortified Prim pushed the slip from her luscious hips as Beth and Tina inhaled sharply when they saw what was beneath. Primrose wore a pink smoothing/shaping garter belt that rose above her waist. It looked like a light girdle of sorts. The belt’s four sturdy garters anchored a pair of nude fully fashioned seamed stockings snugly against Primrose’s full thighs. Beneath, Primrose wore no panties and the garter belt did a wonderful job framing her trimmed brown bush and full, shapely derriere. “Wow, we have a commando here!” Beth shouted and patted Prim on her ass. Tina laughed out loud. The rosy-faced Primrose squeaked “everything was in the wash” as she clapped her hands over her sex. Beth told Primrose to stand on a small box near the windows in her heels, stockings, garter belt, and brassiere. Prim was terrified to see Tina did not close the d****s, only the thin shears. Atop the box, she could see above the sheers many people on the street. She imagined they could see her naked shoulders and bra straps elevated in the middle of the showroom. No one seemed to notice though. Beth wrapped the measuring tape around her body and she called out the measurements to Tina who recorded them. “36, 24, 37 inches, likely a size 6” she announced. Prim protested, “I am not a size 6, I am a 4”. The proprietor playfully swatted Primrose’s bare bottom and reminded her, “Who is designing dress?” “Owie”, peeped Prim as she jerked her knee up in reaction to the startling spank. “You are!”..…then silently to herself "you witch" Prim muttered glumly to herself.


Beth told the blushing Prim to mount the scales in the corner near the dressing rooms. “I don’t know why you are doing this, I told you I am five-foot-nine, and weigh one hundred and thirty-five pounds!” Prim complained. Beth stood very close to Primrose and operated the counterweights with a big grin. “One hundred and forty-nine pounds exactly, you must have had some lunch?” Beth quipped. Prim huffed miserably as Beth told her to turn around and adjusted the height scale. The uncomfortable Prim squirmed and exclaimed “ooooh” as she could feel the lower part of the cold metal ruler slide along the cleft of her large bottom. Beth said “Stand up very straight with your hands at your sides. Ok, sixty-nine inches, you are correct there”. Just then, Al the painter came out from the dressing room area saying, “Beth, we are nearly done back....WOW-ZAA! "What do we have here?" "Eeeeek", dropping to a crouch, Primrose squealed in embarrassment with one hand over her bush and the other over her barely-contained boobs. By stooping forward though, she pushed her bottom, or rather bottomed out, firmly against the cold ruler now mashed against a very sensitive area. "Ah..ooh, aah!" Primrose yelled as she leapt off the scale and performed a funny panic dance twirling in humiliation which really enabled Al to see all her charms including her breasts as they had popped from their cups and her big nipples were standing at attention. “This keeps getting better” Al, grinning with his tongue hanging out, exclaimed to Beth. She told him to “GET OUT” and handing Primrose her clipboard, pushed the hungry-eyed painter toward the door. Prim desperately tried to restore her modesty with the clipboard. Then to her horror, Primrose watched Al open the front door to the busy Main Street sidewalk and run out, leaving the door wide open. Several passersby peered in. They laughed loudly to see the furiously blushing Primrose somewhat covered but were treated to the sight of Prim’s stocking tops, garter belt, and spectacular boobs. One man snapped a picture, and a little boy pointed at her quivering bottom “what a fabulous ass!” Beth overhead the boy and chuckled to herself how right the lad was. Primrose stared back with big open eyes and mouth comically agape as she clutched the clipboard to her tits and bush. She then began to hyperventilate as Beth slammed the door and bolted it. “Come, come now dear, we will get you back together. Only a couple of people saw anything and this wedding will make them forget all about it.” Was Beth sure right about that!

Primrose's Wedding, Part Three
 

April

While Beth detested the snooty Primrose, she appreciated the fact she would make a lot of money on the wedding dress as well as the bridesmaids gowns and tuxedos for the groomsmen. She called a local dry cleaner she worked with in the past on big events to assist with preparing the wedding garments. Speaking with Mrs. Jiang was never easy in person, much less over the phone. Beth told her she “needed the best milk white thread for Primrose’s gown” but Mrs. Jiang thought Beth said “white silk thread”. Silk thread is frequently used for dissolving sutures in surgical applications. Moisture and heat cause the thread to break down. Then Beth said “six standard and one special wedding-day tuxedo for the groom”, however, Mrs. Jiang thought she heard “breakaway tuxedo”. Mrs. Jiang, envisioning a comic movie she saw where a man is suddenly stripped of his clothes, replied, “Like in Hollywood?”, and Beth heartily agreed “Yes, yes” not knowing her request was being misinterpreted. This was going to be the biggest embarrassing event in Puttyville history!

Several days later, after Primrose recovered from her near-naked embarrassment at the dress shop, she again became quite excited all her plans were moving rapidly toward fruition. In the evening, she called on Miles to remind him to wear “something borrowed something blue, something old, and something new” to the wedding ceremony this weekend. He needed some help understanding what she was referring to and Prim explained the tradition to him. Miles then again asked about the possibility of having sex before the wedding. Appalled, Prim said to him-as if she were still a virgin, “If you cannot wait, what is my cherry worth?” “Well, what can we do then?” The horny Miles pleaded. “How about I spank you?” queried Primrose. “That would be breathtaking” Miles responded. Primrose bent him over a coffee table and teasingly lowered both his shorts and briefs. To say Primrose ‘let him have it’ with a large wooden spoon from the kitchen would have been quite an understatement. Miles could not sit down without wincing for three days afterward.

The Day before the Wedding

Beth had arranged for the wedding gown, the bridesmaids dresses, and the tuxedos to be delivered to the church today. She met the van in the parking lot and transferred the garments to a rolling hanger rack. She had earlier asked Tina to leave the wedding dress uncovered so it could breathe, wrinkle-free following the final alterations. As Beth wheeled the rack along the sidewalk, she heard a hissing noise and paused. Just then the lawn erupted as the sprinkler system turned on. Beth shrieked as water cascaded all around her. She had the presence of mind to push on quickly to the church despite being drenched. Once inside she took stock of the situation. She was dismayed to see her light yellow sundress plastered to her body. Her red thong was clearly visible through the thin transparent cloth, as were her pert bare breasts. She tried to pull the fabric away from her body, but this did little to reduce her exposure. Suddenly, "Hello Beth" said Miles who was helping his mother with some final church decorations. Both Beth and Miles blushed at the awkward circumstance. Beth covered her chest with one arm and her thong with the other. "Well Miles, don't just stand there staring, help me!" she shouted. The awkward Miles took a garment bag from the rack and while averting his eyes, tried to cover Beth with the bag. Beth, who had turned away from Miles, didn't notice the hanger snagging the large ring that decorated her dress zipper tab. "Zzzzaazzzz", then "splatt". "Oooooh" cried Beth as she now stood with here bottom facing Miles in only her hot thong. Miles's mouth dropped open as he stared at Beth's beautiful ass. Beth whirled around to face Miles and cried "Eeeww!" as she noticed the befuddled Miles stooping with his hands on his crotch trying to conceal his growing erection. She quickly scampered behind the clothes rack for cover. Miles said, "Beth I am so sorry, please let me....” Beth responded by yelling "Miles, get out!" The hunched over young man staggered down the hall towards the men's restroom using both hands to try to quell his raging manhood.

After getting her dress dried out a bit with a hand dryer in the restroom and back on, Beth began to deliver the wedding garments to the appropriate rooms. Then she noticed how wet the lovely-but-uncovered wedding gown had gotten. Thinking quickly, she called Tina and had her bring two large hair dryers to the church. The two worked briskly to dry the dress. Beth plucked at the garment as the driers did their work. Everything seemed to be fine with the gown, but she had to cut out the lining in order to dry it properly. Considering the time it would take to sew the lining back into the dress, Beth thought for a moment. Since Primrose planned to wear a light blue slip underneath the dress, Beth could forego the labor and leave the lining out. Beth gave Tina a big high-five and “whoo-hoo” as it certainly seemed disaster had been averted. However, it had only been postponed. She did not notice a silk-covered button and two decorative flowers had fallen off the dress and lay on the carpet.

Primrose’s Big Day, the Bride's Dressing Room

Hours before the ceremony, Primrose and her retinue clicked on their high heels imperiously into the church. "Daddy, I want you to make sure everything is we discussed and FOLLOW my checklist!" Prim chided. “Yes, my dearest....." Gerald muttered with eyes downcast. He had reached his limits by now making sure all aspects of this wedding was exactly as Primrose insisted. He was irritated and exhausted and couldn't wait for the couple to depart on their honeymoon so he could get some peace and quiet. He now had to deliver more bad news to his spoiled daughter. After he was finished, Primrose snapped sharply back most disrespectfully, "Daddy, first I discover my beautiful wedding cake will be delivered to the church late and now I understand we have to use the side entrance of this building because that silly circus is in town?” “You should have pulled some strings and cancelled that kiddie parade" Primrose complained. "Prim, then the children would be terribly disappointed" he replied. "Today is my day, not theirs, and I won’t have my wedding disrupted by such juvenile follies" Prim insisted. “Dear, try to be considerate” he chided. “Humph! Who cares about a silly third-rate travelling circus?”

Now Primrose began to get dressed with the help of her bridesmaids. Genevieve looked at the gown hanging on the rack and could not help feeling a bit envious. The wedding dress was a work of art. Form-fitting, strapless, covered with silk flowers, pearls, beads, and sixty silk-covered buttons up the back. Just then, Primrose called from behind a dressing screen, "Gen, be a dear and hand me my slip, it’s my ‘something blue for good luck”’. Genevieve eyed the lacy pale blue slip across the divan with bad intent. Grinning mischievously, she sn*tched it but as she did so, the delicate garment caught on a fabric staple on the edge of a chair and shredded. Genevieve exclaimed “Ooops” and said sadly "I think it is damaged". Behind the screen Primrose said, "Oh no, I don't think I will wear this, it may slide down and trip me and how embarrassing would that be?" "No matter" popped Primrose, "I won't miss it". But she sure would shortly, as Primrose’s good luck was rapidly running out.

As Prim breezed around the dressing screen into the room, the maids all “oohed and ahhed”. She wore a sexy brand ‘new’ white shelf brassiere that pushed her lovely orbs high and left her nipples nearly exposed. Beneath the bra Prim had on a ‘borrowed’ yet elegant boned silk waist cincher, embroidered with flowers, from her mother. The elegant cincher extended from just below her bra to three inches above her low panty line and had six long garter straps. The cincher laced up in the back with silk strings snugly embracing the bride's lovely midriff. Prim’s ‘old’ fashioned style seamed reinforced heel and toe white stockings were pulled firmly upward by the taut garter straps indenting her thighs deliciously. Atop her garters and low on her hips was a pair of white silk bikini panties with ruffles on the sheer back. The tiny front panel was adorned with a cherry design. To surprise Miles, she had shaved her pussy bald for the occasion, so no tufts of brown hair peeked above her oh-so-low panties. Primrose's lovely belly and navel swelled above the panties. From behind, much of her plump cheeks were on display and in addition to her cute dimples above her full bottom, nearly an inch of her ass crack peeked above her panty line. A spray of tiny flowers in her upswept hair, a short veil, an expensive pearl choker, dangling diamond earrings, long white silk opera gloves with diamond bracelets, and five-inch white heels completed her ensemble.

The admiring maids hovered around Primrose to complete her trousseau. Genevieve pulled the dress over Prim's hips and with the help of other maids holding the gown up, began fastening buttons. Starting from the bottom, far below Prim's bottom, Genevieve noticed many of the buttons seemed loosely attached and one popped off. Genevieve thought with so many silk buttons up the back, one missing would not be noticed. Another near the top pulled free as Gen began to feel a bit nervous about the dresses back closure. “Primrose, how did the last fitting session go, because I am have some trouble back here?” Genevieve asked. “Gen, hon, this is a handmade designer dress, and while you may not be familiar with such haute couture, I can assure you the dress is fine.” the bride condescended. Genevieve flushed hot with anger but didn't respond. She hoped this sassy bit of crumpet would be rewarded for her spitefulness with the wardrobe malfunction of the century. “Break a leg, Baby Cakes” Genevieve whispered in Prim's ear, as she grabbed the bride’s bottom hard, hearing a series of pops that sounded like stitches tearing. Genevieve smiled to see Primrose blissfully unaware of the potential disaster.

Prim’s father Gerald knocked on the dressing room door and asked “if everyone was decent”. After a bit of tittering the young women opened the door. He entered and announced the church air conditioner was not working properly and the church was quite warm today. “Daaa…ddy”, Prim loudly whined, “what is going to go wrong next?” He held out a beautiful white feathered fan with a curious cream-colored carved handle. Gerald told her, “This belonged to your great grandmother. She used it on safari in Africa. It is made of ivory”. Several of the bridesmaids were stunned and said “That’s awful, ivory is illegal”. “It is now”, Gerald told them, but this heirloom was “grand mothered” and legal by U.S. Customs and was ok to use. Primrose didn’t hesitate a bit and sn*tched the beautiful antique from her father’s hand. She thought for a moment and then said cruelly “I don’t give a thwack for an ugly old pach....y-derm - this fan is too cool!” Primrose laughed at her cleaver rhyme and then announced it was time for the wedding. As the party left the room, Genevieve noticed the startling number of beads, silk flowers and a few more buttons littering the dressing room floor!

Down the hall, Miles was fidgeting with his tuxedo jacket cuffs and complaining to his mother, "But, Momma, the workmanship on this tux sucks! All the loose threads and Velcro tabs are itchy and scratching me all over!" Alexandra, who was wearing a red mannish pants suit, told him forcefully “for once in your life try to be a man and get through this wedding. Once you are on your honeymoon in the tropics, you won’t have to wear all these fussy formal clothes.”

Primrose's Wedding, Conclusion
 

The Big Day, the Ceremony

Hot and bothered on her father’s arm Primrose waited for her cue for the processional. She fumed at the inconveniences she was being forced to suffer on her wedding day. First, her guests had to use the side entrance of the church because of the stupid circus. Even now she heard calliope music from the noisy parade. Second, the cake was being delivered late. Third, her decision to forego her blue slip was a bad one because the interior of her unlined gown was uncomfortably scratchy and itched on her bare skin. Furthermore, the laces from her waist cincher hung down her back and tickled her barely-contained bottom. Lastly, the heat in the church was nearly unbearable because of the faulty air conditioning. This wedding was her ticket to security and nothing else could go wrong. Annoyed as she fanned herself she held her small yet elegant bouquet of pink roses, tiny beads of perspiration appeared on her beautiful brow and sculpted shoulders. Unfortunately for Primrose, as everyone else had already entered, the array of beads, thread ends, and more buttons on the carpet at her feet went unnoticed.

Primrose was certainly the center of attention as she marched slowly to the the marble dais with altar in the front of the church. She smiled covetously at the hundreds of admiring, envious, adoring, and even lecherous looks she received as she passed by to the strains of the organ. She felt like a queen in her lovely yet sexy gown despite the heat and irritations. From the elevated dais, the photographer and television crew could see everything. As she took her place next to Miles, she thought she saw an opening in a Velcro fastener on the back of his jacket but could not be sure. Why would his jacket have Velcro? She must be seeing things she told herself. Still, it sure seemed his silk shirt and suspenders were showing. She pushed the oddity from her mind as she reminded herself she was the star of this show. No one was looking at Miles. As the ceremony began, Genevieve saw to her glee Primrose's décolleté was not only covered with a sheen of perspiration but was pushing the limits of decency due to her squirming trying to adjust the itchy wedding dress and tickling corset laces. As everyone took their seats for the readings, Primrose and Miles sat on an upholstered bench near the altar next to the elderly rector, Father Thomas. Miles smiled adoringly at his bride unaware of her discomfort. Besides the irritating laces and itchy beadwork rubbing against her considerable amounts of tender skin not covered by her skimpy undies, the heat and bright lights were causing Primrose to really sweat. Beads of perspiration began to run down her neck and back. During the sermon, Primrose continued fidgeting until to her horror, a seam along her thigh suddenly parted over a foot in length exposing her stocking top and its garter fastening. “UUhhgghh” Primrose gasped in alarm at the embarrassing exposure as her face glowed hotly. She suddenly realized if she had worn her slip, this would not even be noticeable. Since it had been her decision to not wear it, she felt foolishly responsible for her embarrassing situation. “Hoist with my own petard” she thought bitterly recalling her Shakespeare. ‘Maybe no one saw’ she hoped. Unfortunately, all the wedding party, many guests in the front pews, the photographer and TV crew, and even the rector saw what had happened. Only the smiling Miles remained oblivious as gasps, sniggers, and titters nearly halted the ceremony. Primrose struggled with the split, sadly making it much larger to reveal the bottom of her waist cincher and more garter and bare thigh. Her twisting caused a pink areole to rise above her dangerously low neckline. Though highly amused at Primrose getting her just deserts, Genevieve loyally sprang to action moving to Prim's side blocking everyone's view of the show. “Oh, thank you Gen”, Primrose babbled as her soon-to-be sister-in-law performed a hasty repair with four safety pins. “I cannot understand what happened, this dress was fine at the last fitting” Prim whispered, too loudly for the public address system drawing more chuckles from the wedding party and congregation. “Now everyone knows I am wearing stays with garters and stockings” to more laughter. “There, there Primmy, I have you back together (for the time being). Let's get this show back on the road.” Genevieve used her handkerchief to dry the flustered Primrose's wet brow, and in daubing her bosom, noticed the pending wardrobe malfunction, but remained quiet, laughing only to herself.

Primrose slowly regained her composure as the wedding ceremony continued. She breathed a sigh of relief as she avoided embarrassment when no one voiced an objection to the union. Little did she realize what embarrassment was right around the corner. The time to exchange vows came and she turned to face Miles. Although he was fit and immaculately groomed, his tuxedo seemed oddly configured and something was not right about the tailoring. Miles stared at the stunning beauty before him and then his jaw dropped when his eyes fell on her magnificent mammaries. Below her expensive pearls he saw both Primroses’ rosy areoles rising from the lace, her nipples just visible, threatening to spring forth. Stammering with his vows, “To have and to hold….and to SQUEEZE” Miles said dreamily. Primrose could not understand why Miles was having so much trouble and why he kept dropping his gaze to her chest. She looked down. “Oooh” Primrose peered wide eyed at her breasts threatening to pop out. Her face reddened again as she awkwardly stooped forward and took hold of the front of her dress with both hands and tried to haul the neckline back into place. Her gown, sewn together with the water soluble silk thread, moistened on the inside from her perspiration exacerbated be the lack of a slip, as well as being weakened from the sprinkler yesterday, began to fall apart. The back split open revealing Prim's brassiere clasp and the waist cinchers tightly laced eyelets. Her flushed skin contrasted starkly with the brilliant white of her dress as well as her creamy lingerie. Although many covered their mouths, most of the congregation could not help laughing out loud at this spectacle. Miles’s nephew Chad, the ring bearer, pointed at Primrose and shrieked “The bride is bursting out of her dress. Her corset didn't work!” Primrose wheeled to face the boy with a wicked scowl as she gave her neckline a final tug. “You little brat! Shut up and mind your own…” she sputtered as she glanced at the laughing congregation. She suddenly realized a sizable piece of fabric formerly comprising her gowns neckline was now firmly in her grasp and no longer on her dress. Primrose shrieked “No, no, no! This cannot be happening!” as she stared down unbelievingly at her breasts on display. Her sweat-shined orbs were only just contained by the flimsy bra she foolishly had picked out. Both her areolas were almost entirely visible and her large nipples began stiffening in the air. “My b-b-boobs!” Primrose shrieked as she comically tried to stuff her nipples back in her brassiere, and unsuccessfully tried to cover her bra with the scrap from her neckline. She soon gave up and turned away from the congregation and faced the altar with her arms wrapped across her front. Up to this point, all members of the wedding party were frozen in disbelief, their mouths hanging open. Miles acted first by removing his tailed tuxedo jacket and placing it carefully on Primrose's bare shoulders. “I was wondering when you were going to do something, you ninny!” Prim sneered. The chastened Miles tried to give her a kiss but she flashed angry eyes at him and shouted “what do you expect me to do now?” Gerald strode up and told Primrose sternly, “Primrose Dubois! I have nearly had enough. You will now take your blessing from the priest, conclude this lavish ceremony I have generously paid for, and join everyone at the reception or you will sorely regret the consequences!!!” You could have heard a pin drop in that church until Father Thomas cleared his throat and told everyone to please take their seats and resume the wedding. Primrose, her face now scarlet from both anger and humiliation, clutched the tuxedo jacket tightly closed and with a huff spun on her heels to kneel before the altar next to the coatless Miles and looked sourly at Father Thomas. Curiously, Miles’s cummerbund popped off and fell to the marble dais.

After what seemed forever to Primrose, Father Thomas signaled the couple to rise from their kneeler and began, “With the power vested in me, I hereby pronounce Miles and Primrose……” “Rrrrriipppppp” the sound of tearing Velcro was heard as the blushing bride rose to her heels. The befuddled groom, staring at his detached cummerbund, had inadvertently knelt upon the tail of his tuxedo jacket which until this moment had been restoring his wife's modesty. Neatly stripped of the coat, her back to the congregation, Primrose turned her head towards Miles and stammered “You ninkan poop! I have never been so humiliated in my life!” her voice carrying through the church with the help of the rector’s microphone. What happened next would go down in Puttyville history as a real life mortifying moment to put to shame any spicy burlesque skit to date. With an arm across her exposed brassiere, clutching her bouquet and fan, Primrose reached for the tuxedo jacket at her heeled toes bending deeply at the waist. As her gloved and braceleted hand touched the jacket, a noise like machinegun fire was heard. “Zzzzzrrrraaazzz!” With a shower of flying covered buttons, the back of Primrose’ s wedding gown burst open exposing her delectable backside to everyone. The now really-blushing bride froze unable to move. Bent over on high heels reaching for Miles’s jacket with her feet apart, Primrose quickly clamped her silk stocking-covered knees together. She forgot the jacket and desperately clutched her arms around her breasts as she looked from side to side trying to decide what to do next. Her eyes like saucers, cheeks as red as firecrackers, mouth open in astonishment, She yearned the earth would open and swallow her up. The designer dress had failed from the bride's knees all the way up the back. As all the buttons shot off, the strapless gown opened like a banana peel and folded back to reveal Primrose’s ‘old’, ‘new’, and ‘borrowed’ unmentionables. Without the ‘blue’ slip, which Primrose now even more regretted leaving in the dressing room, she was nearly naked. From the audience, her flowered coiffed hair, and veil looked perfect. As the congregation and wedding party looked on, they saw her straining bra, the very snug waist cincher clenching the bride’s midriff into a divine hourglass shape. Its garters stretched over her full bottom anchored firmly to the white silk stockings. Bent over so, her lovely derrière stuck out like a large, moist peach, barely covered by the too-small panties whose side straps, bit lightly into her hips. The frills on her pantied seat bounced slightly as her bottom quivered. People cheered as cameras and the local TV captured the image of Primrose's dimpled bottom, mostly bare cheeks, a generous slice of ass crack and the remaining butt cleavage visible beneath the sheer panties. Alexandra smiled wickedly as she watched a bead of sweat glide down Prim’s wiggling back, across her bottom and disappear into her exposed ass crack. As the mortified bride looked back to the congregation wide eyed with trembling lips, she saw the pews filled with laughing faces, guests holding their sides, people pointing, and taking pictures - “PICTURES!” Primrose screamed to herself, as she threw a hand back across her ass with a loud “crack”. “Ooohh, Oouch!” Primrose exclaimed as she jerked her foot up and hopped forward on her heels as a result of her own, but certainly not last, spanking. This proved too much for her bra and the clasp failed with a loud “Pop”. As the broken undergarment flew off, everyone watched as if in slow motion the still warm bra came to rest atop Father Thomas’s head. He looked upward as to heaven and smiled. The noise inside the church was reaching a crescendo as Primrose whirled around still knock kneed to face the laughter and cameras with a horrified look on her face, one arm failing to completely cover her big wet boobs-a hard nipple the size of a kidney bean winked for the cameras. Her other hand with her bouquet and fan was clutched to her loins trying to hide her ridiculous panties and garters. The bouquet tickled her nearly naked pussy and when Primrose jerked it away, the thorns from the baby roses snagged the panties briefly giving many a quick flash of her hairless treasures beneath. “ YEeeeek!” the bride yelped as she hopped back. Chad crept up from behind and ‘Snapped’ Primrose’s panties allowing him and several others a better look at her bare bottom. “ Yeow! Ooohh it's you again, you monster. Stop that, you’ll tear them!” Primrose shrilled as she tried in vain to get the panties adjusted to cover more of her soaking sn*tch and wet ass.

Now Miles chose to act the man. He stepped in front of Prim with his arms spread wide to shield her from the ogling crowd. “Take heart Primrose, I will put a stop to this” he valiantly assured. Several studs then shot off his shirt exposing his smooth toned stomach drawing lewd gasps from females nearby. Next, his suspenders mysteriously came apart and his britches settled low on his hips showing a little something pink. Primrose threw her arms around him and Miles became aroused to feel her big sweaty tits pillowing into his back, her rock hard nipples indenting his skin through his thin shirt. “Oh,,, No! I’m getting hard!” Miles screamed to himself as the congregation laughed louder and began to point at him. As Primrose looked over his shoulder, her widening eyes followed his downward gaze to see how his rising male member was tenting his trousers in front of everyone. With the sound of more fasteners failing, Miles stared in horror as his trouser fly split open and a large pink bulge made its debut too early in the wedding day. Miles spun around to hide his erection from the congregation but in doing so, as Primrose still clutched his lapels, he effectively stripped himself of his vest and shirt. Now with his naked back to the audience Miles found himself pressed bare chest to bare chest with his astonished bride. Miles could only stammer “I was only trying to help”. “Oh no you don't, you idiot! Miles, get off me!!” Primrose yelled as she felt his silk-covered boner throbbing hard against her bare belly above her panties and below her cincher framed by taut garters. As she pushed him away another “zzzzrrazzz” of Velcro shearing was heard as she relieved Miles of his trousers. For the second time, the church fell silent and the video cameras hummed, as everyone stared unbelieving at the sight before them. The church then exploded in laughter. Miles spun to a stop and stared down at himself with a horrified look on his ruby face. The dishy yet geeky groom was standing in front of everyone in his shined shoes, silk socks tightly pulled up by pink sock garters stretched around his calves, and a very full pink G-string which, like Prim’s tiny underpants, had a cherry on the front. He felt the air circulate around his smooth skin reminding him he was very nearly naked at his own nuptial. Cameras flashed as Miles, tomato red, clapped his hands over his still-lengthening dick, and hunched over knock kneed, bare buns wiggling. He groaned, “Primmy, how could you strip me?” Miles then dashed away behind the tabernacle through a door and disappeared from view. Miles’s cute bouncing buttocks parted by the pink thong and his shoes clacking on the marble made a memorable image for everyone in attendance. Primrose, clutching what was left of her dress about her, took advantage of the distraction caused by her nearly naked newlywed hubby, bolted down the aisle toward the narthex, still in her heels, heading for the door. Genevieve called after her, “Primrose, you're going the wrong way!” Primrose ignored her and stepped over a velvet aisle rope that was blocking the main entry, closed because of the circus. She found the cable to be higher than she estimated. As the rope tightened and rose to meet her wet crotch, Primrose’s eyes bugged out, then crossed comically as she moaned “Ooooommmmmmph” biting her lower lip in ecstasy despite her mortification. Trying to flee the church, cover herself with her ruined dress, and not have an orgasm straddling the velvet rope, she watched in shame as a dark blush spread from her hot face down across her shoulders and across her boobs. Performing a less than graceful dismount, Primrose launched her bouquet high in the air with a sudden wail, pulled the church doors open and ran outside. An astonished Genevieve caught the falling bouquet as Father Thomas crossed himself in disbelief.

The Big Day Outside

Primrose blinked rapidly allowing her eyes to adjust. To her shock, as she found herself outside in the brilliant sunshine right in the middle of the children's circus parade. The street was filled with hundreds of spectators watching the animals, circus wagons, and performers parade from the circus train siding to the big top. There was Primrose in front of all these people trying to cover her embarrassing underwear with her dissolving dress. Tugging on the locked church door, she realized she would have to make a run for it. Her heels clicking loudly on the pavement, the bride bolted as fast as she could up the street with the parade to where her bridal limousine should be parked. The crowd cheered as they thought this all a bawdy act. “Wait, Primrose...” Genevieve screamed following from the church. As Primrose looked back to see who was yelling her name, the fleeing floozy, trying to keep her bouncing bits hidden from the crowd by desperately clutching her dress about her, failed to notice directly in her path, a clown pushing a large waste cart behind the elephant march. A cry of “Lady, look out!” brought Primrose’s head to her front just in time to see with astonished eyes, she was about to collide with the brimming cart. Everyone nearby held their breath and collectively gasped at what they witnessed next. Primrose struck the padded bumper of the cart and jackknifed right out of her dress and landed face first with a wet ‘SPLOSH’ in the heap. Screaming “Oh Shhiiittt!” with her mouth wide open, Primrose face-planted in what was most likely a very large pachyderm chip the janitor clown just cleared from the street. After a moment, Primrose slowly lifted her head up nearly overcome with disgust, clearly smelling she was in deep crap. Spitting and sputtering the mess from her stuffed mouth, she struggled to her knees and elbows in the cart. She could not believe how events had turned even worse for her. In her mind’s eye she saw herself sprawled atop a pile of circus rubbish wearing little more than old fashioned lingerie. Her fabulous bottom framed by her garters, jiggled in the sunshine barely covered by her sagging panties exposing now three inches of her ass crack. Her stockinged gams wobbled about and her heels swayed in the air. A young girl nearby snickered at the filthy and barely pantied Primrose and said to her mother, “Mommy, that undressed lady said a bad word!” “Well, she should have her mouth washed out!” The mom replied pulling the girl along. “Noooo, it’s not like that..” Primrose cried with a bitter look towards the departing pair as she struggled to her knees. Doing her best to at least keep her legs together, Primrose noticed her lovely boobs were coated with what appeared to be very sticky syrup from a malfunctioning cotton candy machine. The rest of her body was covered in gummy goo from melting chocolate bars, buttered and caramel popcorn, lollypops, circus peanuts, candy drops, and sweet soda pop. With a miserable look on her face she pushed her ruined veil up, not to kiss her new husband, but unfortunately to wipe her face clear of what was probably elephant dung. Then she discovered a huge wad of bubble gum firmly stuck in her drenched coiffure. “My hair, my beautiful hair is ruined! It will all have to be cut off!” She wailed, clambering out of the cart. The dumbstruck street sweeping clown rushed to help her, but Primrose snarled “Back off, Bozo!” The chastised clown took a bow and gestured with his arm for the bedraggled bride to continue up the street toward the limo. Holding an arm across her tits, the glaring Primrose tugged her panties back up over her ass and while trying to lessen her ridiculous appearance as much as possible, moved on. Primrose now hobbled with a broken heel, kept her knees pressed together tightly, one hand grasping a large sticky breast, the other hand used the fan to cover her loins and bottom. The mischievous janitor clown could not resist a parting shot by goosing Prim’s bottom with his trash picker stick. She yelled “Yikes!” and jumped in the air exposing her gooey boobs with erect nipples to the crowd’s delight as she pranced on in her smalls wearing the body blush of a boiled lobster.

Hurrying along the street to the delight of the pointing and laughing families, many of whom thought it was all part of the show, Primrose made for the limousine. It was then she saw the caterer’s truck and the men struggling to carry her enormous cake into the church. As if in slow motion, Miles burst from the side door the caterers were moving towards wearing what appeared to be a white tablecloth wrapped around his body under his arms. His dress shoes snapped on the sidewalk and his pink sock garters looked preposterous as he ran. Producing more laughs, the elderly Ms. Crandic, chairwoman of the altar guild, charged out after him bellowing “That is not an appropriate use of the fair linen young man!” As if a choreographed circus stunt, the old woman sn*tched the linen from Miles’s body as he plunged headlong in his pink G-string into the caterers and his cake! The caterers jumped back in disbelief as they saw the groom rolling about in the giant confectionery in what appeared to be women’s underwear. Miles stared into the disgraced yet furious eyes of his bride. The wide eyed groom was spread-eagled atop the crushed remains of the cake, his limbs akimbo. His legs, chest, arms, and face were covered in frosting, decorative flowers and sticky chocolate cake. His bare bottom was planted in a pool of pink icing. Even beneath the frosting, everyone could see Miles’s face darken to the color of an eggplant. He stopped struggling and looked down to his groin and saw to his discomfiture, he had lost his pink G-string in the collision. To make matters even worse, his generous manhood, topped now by a candied rose, was swelling by the second. With a panicky look on his face, Miles hopped to his feet; slapped one hand on his growing erection and taking Primrose with the other, ran for their limo. As the newlyweds closed on the shiny white vehicle, decorated with flowers, they abandoned modesty and sprinted the final steps. Primrose chucked her fan and allowed her boobs to wobble in the breeze; her panties drooped below her butt cheeks then descended to half-mast. Miles ran now with his arms; letting his boner bounce like a relay baton. Running was for naught as they found the vehicle locked. As they scampered about hilariously trying each door with futile hope, Gerald and Alexandra marched up with very stern looks on their faces, determined to discipline the defrocked duo!

In the twinkle in an eye, Primrose found herself bent over the fender of the limousine, meant to be her wedding carriage, now her public spanking bench. With her panties at her knees, Primrose gasped as her tacky tits smashed against the hot metal hood, uncomfortable yes, but not nearly as painful as the spanks Gerald began to deliver. Her big bare ass throbbed under the blows as her father let her have it. Her blubbering and ignominious countenance was nearly mirrored only inches away by the frosted and cake-encrusted face of her husband Miles, who was receiving very similar treatment from his furious mother. His boner felt like a sausage sizzling in a skillet pressed against the searing fender, scorched by the hot summer sun. Both bride and groom wailed as the spanks turned their bottoms a brilliant rosy hue. Alexandra held Miles’s arms high behind his back as she took grim satisfaction blistering her son’s sissy ass. “Mommy, it-ouch-was not my fault, I was-Owie-only trying to make Primmy-Oohhh-happy!!!” Miles cried. Primrose attempted to shield her bottom with her hands but when Gerald pushed them away, the bracelets on her gloved hands caught in the corsets laces. Primrose screamed in agony to discover both hands firmly secured high behind her back. Gerald chuckled as he continued to whoop her bottom. “Daddy, please free-“OUCH”-my hands, I can’t –“Aahhhh”-cover up-“oooohh, Noooo”-this is supposed to be my special day, and you are-‘SMACK’-spanking my bare bottom like a little girl… IN PUBLIC!!!” Both Gerald and Alexandra replied in unison as they rained down smacks on their children's flaming buns, “You spoiled children had this coming for a long time! We spent our time and money trying to give you both a most special day and both of you ‘clowns’ spoiled it, so this is our special present to you both!” With that, each parent seized the ear of their red-assed child and frog marched them along in the parade. Miles rubbed his buns with both hands forgetting his still erect penis as he cried like a little boy. Primrose, overcome with shame and unable to reach her smoldering ass, hopped along heels clicking and howling, with her hefty sticky boobs bouncing and her rock-hard nipples pointed skyward. Her panties slid down her stockinged legs and off her heeled feet. The janitor clown quickly sn*tched them up with his trash stick and remarked, “What a nice souvenir!” Prim blinked in astonishment and bawled, “Oh no, no, no, don’t you dare take my panties!” Then another clown stepped up and said to Primrose, “Be still you witless wench, since you look like a Peking duck from a Chinese restaurant, plucked and sauced! You’re an absurd bird who has lost her feathers, you shouldn’t be telling anyone what to do.” “How dare you talk to me like that?” Primrose screeched, “You’re a circus clown.” With that, the fool pulled the pillow from under his oversized shirt and held it above the bride’s head. “I am a clown. Here, have some feathers!” he said as he ripped open the pillow. Pillow down floated down on Primrose, as she looked up with a miserable expression on her face. To her chagrin, the feathers adhered all over her wet and sticky flesh. They tickled and itched at the same time, making her even more uncomfortable. Primrose heard the crowd roar with delight and then caught sight of her reflection in a large glass storefront window. She stared in disbelief at how ridiculous she appeared. Stooped forward on her heels, her arms held by the corset laces behind her back appeared as chicken wings, her formerly smooth sn*tch now prickly with feathers, her bobbing boobs covered in teat-tickling down, she shrieked as she noticed several longer feathers glued in her ruined hair giving her the appearance of a crested bird. As she blinked in disbelief at her reflection, ears burning, her lower lip began to quiver. But then in the glass, she caught sight of Genevieve approaching her. Primrose turned to face her sister in law. “Oh, thank heavens you're finally here Genevieve, cover me this instant and free my hands!” Primrose detected with trepidation a queer look in Genevieve’s eyes and strangely felt the urge to run, but with her arms bound, a spanked bottom, and a broken high heel flight was hardly possible. Genevieve looked at the foolish fowl Primrose had become and said, “Do you know what you really need Prim?” Primrose stuttered “W-w-what?” “You need a tail, my birdie!” exclaimed Genevieve gleefully producing the ivory fan. Primrose spluttered in alarm “No,..No, No..you couldn’t Gen..” as Genevieve spun Primrose around, pushed down her back forcing Prim’s bottom up, and firmly pressed the carved fan handle between Prim's plump ass cheeks. Eyes bulging in debasement, Primrose bawled and hopped about like some hilarious squawking parrot with the fans feathers now protruding from her ass. Barmy from this unexpected added humiliation, Primrose clicked over to Miles who had finally stopped rubbing his hot buns and clenched his hard-on with both hands. “Oh, oh, ooooohhhhhooo, Miles help me, help me please get away” begged Primrose. The naked Miles took her by the arm and ran to a small passing circus wagon, part of the parade but for reason covered with curtains. “We’ll hide in here” he said. He helped Primrose up the step and through the small door accidentally bumping her ‘tail’ in the process eliciting a loud “Yip” from the bird bride as the door clicked shut and locked behind them. Inside the dark wagon there was little room and the floor was covered with what seemed to be newspaper. Losing their footing, they lurched together against one side throwing the cart off balance. The surprised driver barely recovered as the wagon lurched into a street lamp as he over-corrected snagging the curtains and ripping them off the wagon revealing the ‘animals’ within. As the driver had no idea anyone was on board, he continued along the remainder of the parade route, five more miles through the rest of town.

Inside the bouncing circus wagon, securely barred from roof to floor on all four sides, were the naked newlyweds, trying desperately to find enough room to stand up and not be pressing against each other or the bars of the wagon. The denuded Miles was still covered in his cake, though his bottom was not only smooth and clean, but was a very dark shade of red nearly matching his face. Primrose was covered in uncomfortable feathers from head to heels. The down-covered cheeks of her face blushed furiously in humiliation while the full cheeks of her bare bottom glowed crimson from her spanking. Her hands were effectively tied to the back of her waist cincher and her elbows flapping resembled a naked girl doing the chicken dance. Primrose’s stockings were still firmly secured as she squatted on her heels and twisted hopelessly trying unsuccessfully to turn away from the leering crowd surrounding her on every side and especially the children who reached in with curious probing fingers! She was careful to not bump her ‘tail’ on the bars. Sorely missing her brassiere and tiny panties, Primrose bawled as her plump breasts with very pokey nipples bobbed irresistibly and her bare bottom and bald pussy stole the show. Her plumage atop her ruined mop of hair, and the feathers protruding from between the cheeks of her big ass were a sight to behold as photographers snapped dozens of pictures of the gobsmacked couple locked in their bird cage.

Atop the wagon the sign reading “LOVEBIRDS - Closed for Compatibility Problems” added irony to the scene as the ludicrous lovebirds loudly whined, sniped, shrieked, and squawked to each other about their naked, spanked, humiliated, and most uncomfortable displayed condition. An observant clown watching the cart roll away quipped, “Just like newlyweds!”

On a Schedule. Primrose's Security Screening, Chapter 1
 

On a Schedule: Primrose’s São Paulo Security Screening SNAFU


**Disclaimer** This story was originally posted by a writer I believe named AJ, on the old IO site. I thank him for his inspiration. I modified the story a while back and re-post it below for your enjoyment


“Excuse me.., but unlike all of you, I AM on a schedule!” Primrose complained impatiently. Waiting in the queue with obnoxious kids around was not how she wanted to end her business trip. She hated the security lines and failed to understand the need for heightened vigilance. She had traveled to South America on behalf of the Bastermats Chemical Company, and following tedious, but successful sales negotiations, Primrose could not wait to get out of there. Dressed to the nines in a tight, yet classy grey silk business suit, Primrose wanted nothing more than to get home as fast as possible. Unlike everyone else, the superbly-proportioned blonde did not dream of removing her high heels as she clicked haughtily to the front of the line. She also refused to place her jacket in the plastic tub provided as she edged her way closer to the security gate. She had flown from SA several times and assumed that this time would be like every time before; a hassle, jostling in lines with the sweaty masses, but not the end of the world. Today though, in her expensive suit, she did feel somewhat over-dressed compared to all the young people, families, and tourists milling about. One particular family in line ahead of her was moving very slowly. She noted with irritation a boy and a girl carrying big frosty smoothies despite the signs all around prohibiting food and drink. “Clueless tourists”, Primrose thought nearly aloud as she bustled closer. She said to the children’s mother sharply, “Please keep your children moving, I haven’t all day to wait! Some of us here are on a schedule!” The mother, now chagrined, held her children back and let Primrose cut in front of them. Both parents stared glumly at their shoe-less feet. “And make sure these kids don’t spill their nasty milkshakes because this suite cost me over $1,000 dollars!” Primrose chuckled to herself as she clicked past in her lofty heels. How easy it was for her to embarrass people to get what she wanted. Little did she know what embarrassment was in store for her in only a few moments!


The airport was very warm and Primrose regretted wearing this close-fitting suit with so many layers as she felt a trickle of sweat slide down her back. The thought of an icy mojito in the executive lounge made it almost bearable as she waited her turn to go through the security gate. The sweltering heat wasn’t helping anyone’s tempers as she watched the over-worked staff struggling to get the crowd of people through to the gates. Primrose selfishly fretted the stifling humidity would ruin her stylish coiffure, when it was suddenly her turn. “Please step forward ma’am!” the security officer repeated as Primrose snapped back to reality. “Beeep” the alarm sounded as Prim stepped through and the female official asked her to step aside. “Are you wearing a metal belt or carrying any coins?” the young officer asked as she directed Primrose to pass through once more. “No, of course not! I travel extensively and fully understand the…. ‘Beeep!’” Again the shrill sound drew the attention of fellow travelers. “Could you please raise your arms above your head so I can pat you down?” Primrose huffed angrily but complied, more than slightly uncomfortable as the young woman ran her hands all over her body, briskly brushing up and down her arms legs before asking her to place her hands on the counter and lift her high heels one at a time. This display amused the crowd and the teenage girl in line behind giggled between sips from her banana smoothie, “That lady looks like a horse having her horseshoes checked!” Many nearby snickered at the spectacle.


By this time Primrose was very conscious that she was holding up the line and she began to flush at the amused attention she was getting when she was asked to step through the gate yet again by the increasingly frustrated security officer. “Beeep”….. BEEEEP!” Primrose couldn’t believe the alarm went off twice in succession. “I’m afraid I have to ask you to come with me for a more intimate search” the female officer proclaimed loudly, generating more tittering from other travelers. Primrose’s heart sank and her face went bright red as the officer led her away like a disobedient school girl. Her discomfiture increased when she heard the teenage girl asked her mother in a loud voice, “Mom, why is that lady being taken away?” Prim heard a ripple of laughter as the girl’s mother replied, equally loudly, “I don’t know darling, she must have done something very naughty”. Primrose followed the officer for only a moment when she stopped in front of a small cubicle barely fifteen feet from the busy line, now halted as everyone stopped to watch this scene unfold. The officer ushered Primrose inside. The modular privacy booth was tiny, five feet square, and the curtain only reached down two feet from the ground. One thin wall, Prim noticed, ominously had a large clothes peg.


Once they were in the cubicle, the officer told Primrose, “I am required to search you more thoroughly to find out what is causing the metal detector to go off”. Primrose countered, “You cannot possibly think I’m a criminal and furthermore, I am in a hurry to catch my plane!” The officer replied, quite tersely, “of course you don’t look like a criminal, but something is triggering the detector and it is my job to discover what that is”. “The sooner you comply, the less likely you are to miss your plane.” Prim huffed again and made a pouty face, admitting defeat. The officer continued, “Now please remove your clothing so I can search you”. Primrose in shock, knew what the young lady meant, but surely this could not be happening. Nearly six feet tall in her chic heels, Primrose was quite an imposing figure, and towered over the shorter young officer. Prim tried once more to extricate herself from this soon-to-be mortifying situation. “Young lady, you certainly know you are making a big mistake here. I’m really not the sort of person you should be stopping”. Primrose instantly regretted these words as she watched the security official’s face harden. How arrogant she sounded. Primrose knew her fate was sealed as the young woman angrily jerked the curtain closed and said loudly “The sooner you get on with it, the faster I can get back to work, and you get to your gate. Now STRIP!”

On a Schedule. Primrose's Security Screening, Chapter 2
 

Realizing she had no choice, yet Primrose still protested, “All the people gathered outside are watching and laughing….This is terrible”. She took off her expensive suit jacket, followed by her pink blouse which the officer checked before hanging them on the clothes peg. Incorrectly hoping that this was enough, Primrose stood there in her slip and tight skirt, sweat glistening her forehead. She was perspiring not only due to the warmth of the airport, but also (and how she regretted this now) because she was wearing a sexy shaper. It was a cream colored torselette, with demi-bra cups barely capable of enclosing Prim’s generous breasts and sturdy garters securing her expensive silk stockings. Along with it, she wore atop her garter straps, a skimpy pink bikini panty with white hearts. She had packed these old undies by mistake. Being Prim’s last clean pair, she didn’t have much of a choice today. She desperately hoped the young official would not discover them.


“Keep going” the officer said much to her dismay as Primrose unfastened her skirt and shimmied out of the garment. She felt beads of sweat forming on her arms as she stripped off her damp slip nearly bumping into the officer while attempting to avoid brushing the thin curtain. She realized miserably this bit of fabric was all that stood between her and the curious throng outside. Gawking at Primrose in her ridiculous shape wear, the teenager giggled and pointed, “Lady, you’re barely contained by that thing!” Humiliated, Primrose scowled at the girl and huddled against the wall trying to cover herself with her arms. Then, standing up to try and regain some control of the situation, she felt the shoulder straps pinch down as if they were in a tugging match with the garters below. This stretching was the reason the bra cups of the torsolette failed to contain Primrose’s magnificent boobs. Her rosy areolas were clearly visible peeking above the lacy white trim and her stiffening nipples threatened to pop out too. Staring on, the official believed she saw wisps of lovely brown hair peeking above the scandalously low panty line as Prim’s sexy belly pressed deliciously against the constraining girdle. When Primrose suddenly spun around to avoid the officer’s leering gaze, the girl discovered another treat. Prim’s panties from yesteryear were definitely not up to the task of covering her beautiful full bottom of today! Most of her cheeks were clearly visible and nearly an inch of butt crack rose above the lacy bikini waistband before the torsolette stretched across her lower back resumed coverage. Primrose felt the official’s stare burning into her nearly-bare rear as she scowled crossly over her shoulder, then looked down and saw most of her peachy bottom escaping from her panties. Primrose looked up with a sour expression at the giggling girl officer, now slapping her knee in mirth, as both pair of Prim’s cheeks blushed furiously.


Primrose tried again to stand upright in the tiny cubicle, tugging the rear of her torsolette down to cover her ass and restore a modicum of decency. She gasped when she saw the officer’s eyes widen, and as Prim, following the young girl’s astonished gaze, looked down, she saw her lovely erect nipples winking up at her, gloriously exposed. Squealing, she tried to haul the shallow bra cups back over her tits, but this simply exposed more of her derriere, prompting more hysterics from the young girl.


Suddenly, ceasing to ogle the discomfiting dishabille of the no longer pompous Primrose, the officer glared and pointed at her ludicrous lingerie, insinuating Prim continue undressing. Beginning to become overwhelmed with shame, Primrose lowered the shoulder straps and rolled the top down, revealing her large perfect breasts to the young woman. The garment was made of tight stretchy spandex and rolling it down to her waist wasn’t easy. Scarlet with embarrassment she numbly obeyed when she was told to “raise her arms” and then “lift her breasts” as the younger woman examined her torso beneath them. Prim was now sweating freely in the tiny cubicle and she began to hyperventilate. Despite being so uncomfortable, she was feeling oddly horny and her sweat-shined nipples betrayed her humiliation by taking on the appearance of hard pencil erasers. She could also feel her mons begin to moisten.


Primrose’s slender hope her thus far exposure was all that was necessary, was instantly dashed when the officer declared, “take the rest off”. Primrose whined “PPpp..please no…everyone outside can see and hear what is happening in here”. The official snapped “hurry up and stop stalling. Otherwise, I’ll haul you out in hand cuffs!” So feeling much like a disobedient child, Primrose suffered the indignity of having to roll down and squeeze out of her torsolette in the very small space. She awkwardly leaned into the girl, “OH..OOooppps.. Oooh, excuse me”, as she stooped on her towering heels to unfasten her stockings, then she began to haul down her torsolette. This was no easy feat as the fully-figured Primrose was now quite hot and sticky. Pulling the shaper over her large, moist bottom took quite some doing. The young officer laughed again aloud as Prim’s bikini panties went down with the descending torsolette exposing half of her mismatched trimmed brunette bush, and baring nearly all her delicious butt crack as the panties rolled below her sweet cheeks. Primrose, howling with dismay, let fall the torsolette, and quickly pulled her panties back into place although this tiny pair was unable to cover much of anything. Regrettably, Prim realized, their too-snug fit in this embarrassing situation was causing a definite awakening in her loins. As the torsolette, hit the ground with a noticeable “clack”, a boy outside asked, “Is that lady undressing in that little room?” In the cubicle, the official motioned toward the cute panties and directed sternly, “those too”. Outside, the boy’s father laughed when he saw the polka-dotted panties drop to the floor around Prim’s heels and answered loudly “She certainly seems to be baring it all!” Everyone in the congested concourse chortled as Primrose, hugely ashamed, crouched naked just few feet from the crowd behind the flimsy curtain. Naked save for her heels, she clicked about fretfully while plucking at her loose stockings as the officer scooped up her underthings and hung them on the peg. Her large, unsupported breasts wobbled to and fro, and her generous ass jiggled as she bumped into the back wall of the cubicle causing an audible “crack” from a support member. The flimsy structure rocked to and fro, and the curtain swayed, alarming Primrose of impending exposure. She instantly clapped her hands over her hot muffin and large boobs with pointy nipples and stared wide-eyed, but the curtain remained in place as the officer told her “Steady!” Primrose heard more sniggers outside as someone mocked “Steady in there!”


In a matter of minutes Primrose descended from a very attractive and composed corporate-class traveler to a denuded distressed damsel in front of a fully dressed younger woman inside a tiny cubicle with a curtain that reached nowhere near the floor. Blonde and blushing, Primrose gawked downward at her hard nipples, threatening to jump off her breasts, as she felt and saw, with awestruck eyes, the reddening of her flesh, spreading from her face, down her throat, and across her boobs. In her mind’s eye she saw what the people outside could see; one set of stocking-clad legs in heels from the knees down prancing about anxiously, and one set of legs in black uniformed trousers and stoic black shoes opposite them. The young officer smiled sweetly at Prim’s predicament. Being very careful to not to brush against the curtain, Primrose gingerly followed the girl’s commands as she was asked to open her mouth. The officer first probed her oral cavity with a wooden paddle, and then produced a penlight. When the officer suddenly thrust the light between her lips, Primrose, staring bug-eyed, clamped down upon it. The officer chuckled at the sight of Prim sucking both the paddle and the bulbous penlight, with a shocked, wide-eyed expression. Then the young officer asked Primrose to shake out her ruined hairdo as the girl brusquely combed through her sweat-streaked hair. This raking of Prim’s near-soaked hair sadly gave her the appearance of a wanton wench. Once more Primrose was forced to lean against the shaky wall and lift her feet so the girl could check her heels. Prim, acutely aware she was completely naked whilst all this was happening, stammered nearly weeping, “Surely there must be some boundaries?”


Then, just when Primrose expected the ordeal to end, the girl ordered, “Squat down, back against the wall, legs apart”. Incredulously, Primrose scowled at her, “You can’t be serious. People will see me!” But the girl was completely serious and told Primrose to “get hopping”. Slowly and most reluctantly, Primrose capitulated, and did as she was told. She pressed her hot, sticky, naked back against the cubical wall and assumed the difficult posture, incredibly embarrassed, as she tried to hold the position while struggling to keep her ass high enough to stay above the hem of the curtain. The despondent Primrose was absolutely sure her bottom was clearly visible from the terminal. “Legs further apart”, ordered the girl as she knelt down in front of Primrose, their knees almost touching.


Suddenly, with no warning, the officer exclaimed, “Darn it!” Before Primrose could react, the official sprang up, opened the curtain and darted out, leaving the d**** half open. Horrified, Primrose leapt up to yank it shut. As she fumbled to close the curtain, the crowd outside cheered at the sight of her large bouncing boobs and conspicuous brown bush bobbing straight at them. After all, a statuesque bare blushing blonde in heels is a sight hard to miss! “Somebody's not exactly matching!” came a voice from outside, referring to Prim’s blonde ‘curtains’ and brunette ‘carpet’. Finally closing the curtain, Primrose waited miserably, naked, in the furthest corner of the cubicle, unsure what to do next after what had just happened. Suddenly, the agitated officer came back in and with unbelievable slowness, closed the curtain behind her. Stunned, Primrose recognized through the curtain gap, the family she had insulted earlier as a dressed woman. They were all smiles, looking at her and laughing. The girl with the smoothie pointed right at her jiggling buns as she scampered behind the guard, “Look at the nakey lady!”


Primrose almost cried when she realized the reason for the officer’s sudden departure. The young girl forgot somethings needed for the examination; a small mirror with a long handle, and a couple of pairs of latex gloves. “Please assume your previous position” the officer snapped, as Prim sadly squatted down. Totally naked, her nipples hard as diamonds, she used her hands to try and cover her throbbing pussy and tits while cowering in front of the fully clothed younger woman, Primrose never felt so exposed in all her life. Scarlet with embarrassment, her predicament was heightened by the fact she could clearly hear people laughing at her humiliating condition merely feet away, on the other sides of the thin walls and flimsy curtain. Curiously, despite her most uncomfortable state, Primrose continued to feel the fire in her loins growing hotter. The officer smiled when she noticed a large bead of sweat glide down Prim’s back and disappear into the cleft of her lovely bottom.

On a Schedule. Primrose's Security Screening, Fin
 

Resuming her uncomfortable and embarrassing squat position, Prim thought surely things couldn’t get any worse. The officer placed the mirror underneath her open thighs and ordered, “I want you to reach under with both hands and open yourself for me”. Dumbstruck, Primrose complied, her eyes welling with tears of humiliation and frustration as she did what she was told, dreadfully aware that anyone outside could most likely see her bottom inside. Sweat poured down her now-nearly naked crimson body. The cubicle was so small the officer’s face was only inches way from Primrose’s, and she noticed a slight smirk as the officer suddenly inserted two fingers inside her sopping sn*tch. The officer blinked in astonishment then tittered loudly realizing Primrose was intensely aroused. It was the most humiliating moment of Prim’s entire life as the young woman unemotionally moved her fingers around inside her for a full minute before eventually slipping her gloved fingers out. Then, without allowing her to stand, the girl ordered Primrose to turn around and lean on the wall. Despite being full figured, Primrose was athletic and fit, but her thighs burned as she awkwardly shuffled around on lofty heels no less, without standing up. Her heart sunk as she saw the officer removing her gloves and then then heard the ‘snap’ as she pulled on a fresh pair.


“Now please put your hands behind you and pull your buttocks apart”, the girl ordered. Prim’s elongated nipples brushed the textured surface of the cubical wall triggering yet more stimulation to her already tightened teats as well as her burning bush. Primrose felt the girl’s hand between her moist shoulder blades, “I said lean forward!” as Primrose’s hot sweaty breasts were squashed flat against the cold wall along with her scarlet forehead. She could not believe this was happening. She screamed to herself, “This is a nightmare! Molested stark naked in an airport full of people!” Yet there she was, inches away from comfortably clothed travelers, undergoing the most degrading treatment she had ever experienced. She whimpered when the young woman ordered her to “pull harder” and without any warning, or sufficient lubrication, painfully forced her gloved finger inside Primrose’s bottom. “Oooo, Oh, Oh, Oh!” Prim squealed at the unwelcome intrusion. Her face now the color of an eggplant, Primrose clearly heard the crowd outside the cubicle laughing as they knew exactly what was happening inside. Someone cried out, “WHAT IS GOING ON IN THERE?” Prim, thighs aching and with a half crazed look on her face, smelled the officer’s minty breath on her naked shoulder. “Time to delve a bit deeper dearest...” the young girl whispered in Primrose’s ear, as she added a second finger and pushed even further. Prim yowled like a wet cat, the discomfort and humiliation unbearable. Primrose, implausibly further stimulated, began panting loudly and bouncing her boobs against the cubicle wall in tempo with the young woman’s probing digits. Unfortunately, just as Primrose was about to cum, the officer suddenly withdrew. Primrose shouted “NO! No,nononono…, DON’ T STOP!” The deprived Primrose jumped forward as her bottom made a loud popping sound, like a wine bottle being opened. This brought more hoots from people outside the cubicle. Primrose lurched wildly, toppled to the side, her legs splayed scandalously as the walls of the booth collapsed, the whole booth crashed down upon the concourse floor. Primrose landed across the flattened wreckage face down, on her knees and elbows. Her soaked mop of hair hung limply over her nearly purple face and breathless puffing rosy cheeks. Prim’s bare bottom was thrust skyward, knees apart, showing the world her feminine charms in all their aroused glory. “EEEEEeeeeeeK” she cried and quickly rolled on her back, now supported by her elbows, knees still wide apart. Primrose stared wide-eyed down at the display she now presented the terminal crowd in utter astonishment, her mouth forming a perfect “O” shape. Her beautiful trimmed bush was open just enough by her splayed legs for everyone to see her throbbing labia. Her breasts lunged upward, her elongated nipples rising even higher. Just as she wondered how all this horribly came to occur, waves of humiliation and pleasure overwhelmed her. Unable to further contain herself, Prim squealed like a vixen, and began bucking her hips wildly in the air, on the cusp of the most explosive orgasm she ever had experienced. At this exact moment however, the young girl mentioned earlier, who with her family, stood transfixed staring at this sordid sight with bewildered expressions, dropped her extra-large banana smoothie on the terminal floor. Astonishingly, the contents of said shake spewed forward in two waves toward the simmering sexpot squirming shamelessly on the concourse floor. As if in slow motion, the first wave splattered Primrose’s crotch, saturating her steaming puss with a creamy ice-cold slush, instantly arresting her imminent orgasm, and robbing Prim of her so-wanted release. The second wave of goo struck Primrose directly in the face, soaking her countenance and sweaty locks in a quart of yellowy confection. Primrose, utterly gobsmacked, could only stare comically cross-eyed, down at her frosted feminine flower, her mouth dripping smoothie, hung open comically agape. With her climax literally on ice, the unfortunate unfulfilled flash-frozen femme now resembled a semen-soaked sl*t. As the surrounding crowd exploded into laughter, Primrose grasped the uproarious situation. Clamping her sticky legs together with a delightful “smack”, she shrieked loudly enough to shatter glass. She saw cameras everywhere and then she noticed the family she insulted earlier, in the front of the crowd laughing and filming as their video camera recorded her complete mortification.


Clambering up unsteadily on her high heels, her previously coiffed hair now in wet ropes of banana shake, Primrose looked around wildly for her clothes. Not seeing them, she adopted the classic ENF pose with one hand trying unsuccessfully to cover her large boobs capped with unbelievably stimulated nipples, and the other pressed between her legs to shield her oh-so-cold coochie. Icy shake continued to drip from her face onto her tits causing her nipples to extend another quarter inch! Her unsecured stockings drooped about her knees. Sweating profusely and covered all over in a moist sheen, Primrose wore the body blush of a boiled lobster. Staring into the laughing audience, her heeled toes shoulder width apart and her knees tightly held together, Prim’s ridiculous posture only served to push her big bare bottom delectably out and up. Looking frantically side to side, through hair covered with creamy banana smoothie, Primrose stared with her mouth hanging open in shame, her eyes wide as saucers. Unable to cover her enormous bosom, Prim’s rock hard nipples peeked out to the delighted crowd and cameras. Primrose awkwardly clicked her heels on the tile floor looking for knock-kneed way out. All around her, Primrose saw faces of people laughing and pointing at her. She screamed over their laughter, “Pleeease, someone cover me!” The young officer who searched Prim suddenly appeared and offered Primrose an airline schedule poster from the smashed cubicle wall. The crescendo of the crowd grew louder as poor Primrose struggled to use the poster to cover her boobs and pussy while her big pink bottom bounced about completely exposed. She anxiously hopped from one heel to another, spinning in circles as the crowd howled on all sides. The wife of the family she insulted earlier took the opportunity to smack her ass hard three times and said, “That’s just what a haughty cow like you deserves!” “OOOO OH, OH, Owwwie!” Primrose exclaimed, miserably peering over her shoulder with her frosted face at her reddened bare bottom.


Finally, other officers moved in and as they pulled Primrose back to the wreckage of the cubicle, a series of blooming red hand prints appeared on her full tushy. One officer gave Prim a small towel to wipe off the now-crusty smoothie splatter while another gave her girdle back. “Thanks a lot!” she hissed, as she sn*tched it away from him. Even though the officers tried to hold up the little curtain to end the bawdy exhibition, many of the crowd, including the family, hooted raucously as the silly Primrose struggled to pull on her ridiculous girdle, an effort made hopelessly difficult because of her embarrassment and sweat-covered body. Wriggling to haul the too-tight garment over her generous wobbling rear end and then her bouncing breasts, was truly a sight to see.


Fifteen minutes later a now-dressed but still shaking Primrose tried to sound composed when she asked the officer who strip searched, exposed, and degraded her, exactly to whom she should complain. The officer replied, “No one”. She said, “I was only doing my job”. She didn’t even apologize. It apparently was the fault of the over-calibrated metal detector sensing the metal fasteners securing Primrose’s silk stockings to her girdle. Despite trying to remove as much smoothie as possible from her countenance in the WC, There remained quite a bit of sticky shake on her face and in her hair. Hustling up the jet way to her plane where everyone was already seated, Primrose endured her final indignity as she saw the grins on the faces of passengers who had clearly enjoyed her humiliation, and had pictures, movies and stories to tell all their friends back home. She hotly panted as she squeezed by the girl she insulted earlier on the way to her seat. The girl unexpectedly held aloft her polka-dotted panties she had absconded with and waved them to the cheering cabin of passengers. Everyone now knew Primrose was wearing no panties! Primrose felt about her loins and realized the mortifying truth. She pouted as she plopped into her seat and started bawling.


Back in the airport, a janitor fortunate to have witnessed the calamity, held up Primrose’s discarded cover, the poster flight schedule she had so unsuccessfully attempted to use to conceal her nudity. The portion dealing with Primrose’s departing flight was soaked with her sweat, banana smoothie, and Lord-knows what else. He laughed out loud and remarked “I guess she WAS on a schedule after all!”


The End

Irritating Incident at the Ivy Industrial Institute
 

Irritating Incident at the Ivy Industrial Institute

**Disclaimer: All characters portrayed are over 18**

This is another prequel, where the characters are still in college. Please enjoy

Part 1

It was a beautiful spring day in Puttyville and at The Ivy Industrial Institute, everyone was excited for the important events. Today was the pep-rally for the big basketball game later in the afternoon against Excelsior Electrical Lyceum, their school’s major rival. Coupled with the pep-rally was the announcement of the Bastermats’ Sophomore Scholarship, a coveted prize awarded by the major local employer, The Bastermats Chemical Company, to the sophomore who best demonstrated the Institute’s ideals. The gymnasium was magnificently decorated with scarlet streamers and red and black balloons, the school colors. On both sides, students packed the bleachers laterally along the longer walls of the gym. From half court to the entrance, faculty and parents, all dressed smartly, were seated in rows of red and black folding chairs, easily removed for the game later. At the other end, beneath the brand-new scoreboard topped with the latest big-screen television, or JumboTron, was a large dais serving as the focal point for the occasion. The red and black-clad band was seated along one side of the elevated platform, while the uniformed basketball team, known unofficially as “The In-and-Out Balls”, and cheerleaders were seated along the other. The local television station, WENF, as well as the student cable access channel, ENM-TV, were set up to cover the event.

Atop the dais, about to approach a podium, Provost Regina DuBois looked out over the crowd with a regal visage on her face. Strikingly a full six feet tall without heels, with a statuesque, near Rubenesque, figure, the woman looked every bit the domineering disciplinarian she was known to be. Dressed in a very snug red leather sleeveless sheath dress, with large black metal buttons running up the back, complimented with 4-inch red heels, Ms. Dubois perfectly matched her school’s colors. Her red hair coiffed in a rather authoritarian fashion, combined with a fiery sardonyx hair comb and matching red coral hoop earrings completed her stern, but most fashionable, appearance.

Despite her firm, composed outer appearance today, inside she was bubbling with anticipation for today’s big moment. The moment HER daughter, the bright, brassy, and beautiful, Primrose Dubois, would be recognized by all in the city as the winner of this monumental honor. Regina relished the idea of elevating Primrose while simultaneously humbling the only viable competitor, Beth Modiste, who in her mind, was clearly the wrong choice. Beth attended the Institute on a scholarship, and Regina believed Beth lacked the breeding the school espoused as well as the leadership qualities in the guidelines of the Bastermats’ prize. Regina just knew Primrose had won. Besides, although Beth was quite attractive, and part of the cheerleading squad, (albeit captained by non-other than Primrose), Regina felt Beth lacked the sophisticated smoothness a moneyed upbringing provides. Such snooty and condescending behavior was exactly what her daughter Primrose was beginning to exhibit and Regina loved it. Like mother, like daughter. Unfortunately, only the college president, Cordelia Ivy Cockfoster, and the President of the Bastermats Chemical Company, Ernest Crescentcrotch Bastermats, knew the winner, as all members of the selection committee submitted their votes anonymously. In addition to the big cash prize scholarship, there was a gift for second place, a red jasper statuette of the great chimney at the chemical plant, emblazoned with the company name. This mini monument was humorously known to the student body as the “popsicle” because it resembled a large, glowing sex toy. Being the runner-up and awarded the “popsicle” was a comedic event, and was always captured in hilarious suggestive photographs such as mouthing the award, or pretending to insert it somewhere carnal, later to be published in the school paper and yearbook do the delight of the students and the disdain of the faculty.

Although she relished being the center of attention at this moment, she was so ready to bestow another honor on her haughty offspring who completely reminded Regina of herself. Curiously, Ms. DuBois felt a twinge of uneasiness as she strode to the podium, clicking loudly in her magnificent heels over the gym’s PA system. The provost had packed on a few extra pounds during the last few fall months. While no one would dare call her fat, or even chubby, she now sported more curvature than before. Along with a derriere to die for, she was also endowed with a balcony you could recite Shakespeare from. Strutting forward to her position of power, Regina’s bosom bounced forward straining the leather dress like basketballs stuffed into a mesh bag. The square neckline, coupled with the sleeveless design, allowed the tops of her magnificent breasts to rise up and out just enough to maintain a modicum of decency, yet rapidly approaching the line of becoming risqué. She couldn’t remember the neckline being so open, but as she had changed just minutes earlier in her office, she had not had time to make any adjustments. Regina abruptly realized her mild trepidation was caused by this very dress she chose for today. While absolutely stunning, it was a garment from a slimmer time in her past. Despite Regina’s complete confidence in the “foundations” she selected to address her recent weight gain, she momentarily thought the too-tight leather dress with a low neckline and a back-button closure may a bit risky. Because of her attire’s snug fit and the warmth of the gym, Regina had imprudently, again like her daughter, in order to be comfortable, forgone sensible undergarments such as a slip. Now the opposite of comfort was occurring as she felt her formidable unmentionables rubbing directly against the leather confines of her dress now tacky with moisture. Ms. DuBois’s face flushed at the thought of a wardrobe malfunction in front of her admiring audience.

Arriving at the podium behind the microphone, the provost’s hubris suddenly took over, and her confidence came rushing back as she realized she, Regina Dubois, Ph. D, was the authority figure here today, and SHE was in complete control of the occasion. At least so she thought, staring out over the splendidly decorated gymnasium and throngs of excited people, not noticing the beads of sweat beginning to form on her back and across her scrumptious décolleté.

Both Beth Modiste and Genevieve Jameson sat to Primrose, the squad captain’s, left. Both looked very smart in their cheerleader uniforms, the “Institute Intensities”. The squad wore brilliant red and black short wool skirts, matching midriff-baring wool button-up sweater tops, black sneakers with red ankle socks. Prim wore her beautiful still-blonde hair in a high ponytail with a strand wraparound. Beth opted for a simple ponytail, while Genevieve chose sexy high pig tails. As specified in the school code, all girls save one, wore regulation brassieres and panties and also donned beneath their short skirts, full-coverage scarlet cotton over-panties necessary for decorum’s sake during acrobatic performances. Prim didn’t want to show any perspiration during her moment of glory and unwisely wore neither over-panties nor brassiere, relying on her tight woolen, button-up top to restrain her magnificent firm breasts.

Beth was astounded at the pomp of the ceremony, with hundreds watching and cheering, she was very proud to have gotten this far in the competition. While she believed she stood a good chance to win, she worried Primrose and her scheming mother may have altered the competition to give the younger beautiful DuBois an unfair advantage. Still, Beth was a strong young woman and would not be intimidated by the likes of those two.

Genevieve was irritated to have to be onstage for this event, having acquiesced to Primrose’s insistence the cheerleaders be seated on the dais with the basketball team. Primrose incredulously delivered a back-handed compliment saying, “Genevieve, your appearance sets off my loveliness so!” Primrose then asked Gen to stand behind her when she took the big prize away from Beth. Rolling her eyes, Genevieve wondered why her dork brother was not with the rest of the basketball team. He was probably doing something for the bimbo Primrose, whom he adored.

Primrose sat basking in her believed forthcoming glory. She could not image a more perfect day except for one annoying detail. “Where in the devil was Miles?” Primrose wondered from her seat. Her thoughts drifted to Miles’ smooth, sexy body as she wiggled her butt against the folding chair clearly enjoying the lack of panties between her bare bottom and the thin cotton briefs. Notwithstanding the mons moistening experience Primrose felt imagining the evening with Miles following her prize-she would enjoy two prizes later tonight! - suddenly, she snapped back to reality and hoped Miles had not done something regrettable. While she effectively controlled him most of the time with her bossy behavior, he could at times go and do something silly. Now he was conspicuously absent from the rest of the basketball team seated nearby. Although Primrose was extremely popular with all the jocks, she chose the dishy Miles as her steady boyfriend for three reasons that would shortly appear most obvious.

High above the dais, concealed behind the scoreboard, Miles Jameson balanced carefully in his Chuck Taylors on the support beams. Still in uniform, he had slipped out before the ceremony to launch his chivalrous plan to avenge his Primrose. Miles worked part time in the school office and while snooping through the Dean’s files the secretary left unattended, he discovered a terrible injustice. Beth, not Primrose, had been named the scholarship winner. After days of silent anxiety, he hatched a plan without Primrose’s knowledge to humiliate Beth before the entire student body, faculty, and parents. In his hands he clutched a large bottle of “Acme XXX Scratchy/Sneeze Powder”, purported to be the most noisome product available. Advertised to cause extreme itching and sneezing, Miles knew this would be the ultimate act of revenge. When Beth came to the podium to be recognized, invisible to all, he would sprinkle the powder on her from above and everyone would then watch hilarity ensue. He blushed with the thought Beth may have to pull off her sweater to stop the itching and he would see her bra-clad breasts! He fantasized at what color her bra would be, pink? Jarred from his brief hormone-fueled reverie, he looked down at the group assembled on the dais below and with growing titillation realized from his position, he had an amazing view down the front of provost Dubois’s low-cut leather sheath dress. As she stood up and clicked her way imperiously to the podium, her bouncing bosoms resembled a couple of ripe melons, straining her not-up-to-the-task, brassiere. Dreamily, he imagined his head resting on those soft pillows, grander than those of her daughter Primrose, while he simultaneously felt a stirring in his loins.

Irritating Incident at the Ivy Industrial Institute, Part 2
 

Irritating Incident at the Ivy Industrial Institute, Part 2


Regina stood imperiously behind the podium, beautifully adorned with the school crest on its frontage. She was barely able to wait for her moment of triumph to commence. Next to her on a small, black covered table, were the first prize scholarship medal award, and the Bastermats trophy, aka the “popsicle”, the second prize. As Regina leaned toward the large microphone covered with a school-themed scarlet foam cap, Miles excitedly noticed from above, a rock-hard nipple nearly became visible as Regina’s neckline shifted. While no one on the gymnasium floor could see Regina’s near exposure, Beth huffed to herself as she clearly spied the rosy areolas peeking from the top of Regina’s glamorous dress. Beth wished just once this pompous prig be put in her place. Little did Beth know how soon her wishes would be fulfilled beyond her wildest expectations. Regina glanced down just in time. Bug-eyed and gasping with alarm, she glimpsed her boobs springing out of her dress. Almost inconspicuously, she tugged her dress up and her tits plopped back into place just as the Jumbotron was filled with her image from the waist up.


“TIK…TIK...TIK….TIK….clink-click!” Regina, flummoxed, but still disciplined, quieted the crowd by tapping on the microphone with a manicured ruby finger nail. The ostentatious gold bracelets she wore on each wrist clinked loudly over the PA system. “Attention everyone, I’m sure you all know me, Doctor Regina Dubois”, she announced, her voice dripping with condensation, “I am provost of the Ivy Industrial Institute”. “I want to thank all our distinguished visitors'', smiling at the handsome Mr. Bastermats seated behind her, “members of our esteemed college, beaming to the faculty in front, and all the rest of you for coming out this afternoon to our pep rally, the big game against the Lyceum, and most importantly, the presentation of the most prestigious award in the entire city”! Regina turned and smiled both sweetly and knowingly at Primrose who responded with a smug nod and a giggle as she applauded along with everyone else. Genevieve rolled her eyes once again. Following a few more “TIKs” to hush the assembly, Regina continued, “Our outstanding all-state band will now lead us in singing our National Anthem. Please rise”. With the gym filled with patriotic sounds, Regina sang along presumptuously with Primrose. Regina, while inhaling for the high notes of the finale, suddenly felt a peculiar loosening in her outfit. Stealing a glance down during “the home of the brave” lyric, she could not see anything amiss. However, one of two hooks fastening her strapless brassiere had failed, allowing the overtaxed undergarment to slacken its tenuous grip on her bountiful tits. A black button also popped off the back of Regina’s dress across her backside allowing a few lucky members of the band to peek at a sturdy white foundation beneath. Following the Star-Spangled Banner, the band continued to play the state and school songs as the scoreboard big screen panned the audience, band, pep squad, and the basketball team. Watching the screen, Regina saw herself from behind and noticed the gap in the back of her dress, an alarming band of white bulging from the scarlet leather sheath. As her eyes widened, she thought she saw one of her buttons on the floor of the stage near her heels. Regina, hoping to take advantage of the standing crowd singing and watching the shifting scenes on the Jumbotron, thankfully not now focused on her, stooped down quickly to retrieve the errand button. At the nadir of her squat, just as her ruby nails clutched the lost black fastener, Regina heard with dismay, ZZRASSrRIIPP!! as the back vent of her dress split over her rear end to widen the gap created earlier by the popped button. Springing upright, she swept her hand back to her bottom and felt to her horror, her girdled derrière was largely exposed to most of the band members who began snickering as the songs ended.


Primrose detected something wrong as she noticed her mother’s difficulty trying to look composed despite her alarmed expression and furrowed brow. Abruptly, the screen centered on Regina, as the perplexed provost sn*tched the mic from its mount, and scooted around in front of the podium. “I can never stand behind these things... ha, hah…,ha”, Regina nervously joked as she tried to look like she was still in control of the deteriorating situation. “Without further ado, let me introduce our school president, Miss Cockfoster!” During the period of applause while the elderly matron came forward, Regina leaned back against the podium and with alarm, felt the cool metal of the school crest against her panty-less girdled ass, uncovered due to the expanding rent in the back of her gown. From his position, Miles became erotically distracted by the sight of the college provost, his girlfriend’s MILFy mom, oddly pressing her bottom against the podium.


While Regina’s mind raced thinking about how she was going to escape from this mortifying wardrobe malfunction, the school president, Miss Cockfoster, took the microphone from her. “Thank you everyone for joining us on this special day.” She continued, “I am honored to ask Mr. Ernest Bastermats to please join us for the announcement and presentation of the Bastermats’ Scholarship Awards. The smart Mr. Bastermats walked to the front of the podium and stood on the other side of the distraught Regina. Regina tried to shift her position, but abruptly stopped when she felt her dress tug back, securely snagged on the school seal, mounted on the front of the podium. Now, another big black button popped off and tinkled to the floor of the stage. Mercifully, as everyone was still clapping, few noticed it. While the elderly Ms. Cockfoster fumbled with the envelope, Regina shuddered as she felt beads of perspiration rolling down her back. Primrose noticed the sweat on both her mother’s reddening face and her moisture-sheened bosom. She wondered what was happening to Regina. Prim observed with dismay her mother’s tugging and pushing against the podium had caused her dress to settle a bit too low for Institute decorum. The lacy top edges of her overloaded brassier were becoming visible while Regina plucked curiously at her dress behind her. Yet, as nearly everyone was focused on the president and the envelope, many did not notice Regina’s imminent unveiling. Those who did, were loudly guffawing at Regina’s plight. The puzzled Primrose suddenly snapped back to reality as Ms. Cockfoster proclaimed, “This year’s runner up for the Bastermats’ Scholarship is Primrose Dubois….and the winner is Beth Modiste!” “Girls, please come forward”. Beth squealed with delight and hurried to the president’s side. Regina, hunched forward slightly with ample bosom threatening to debut, blinked wide-eyed and gaped at the audience dumbfounded. Primrose’s jaw dropped in disbelief. “There must be some mistake”, Regina exclaimed. Primrose slowly walked forward, completely muddled, muttering “I lost, I freaking lost!” Beth gracefully moved aside for Primrose to scoot in.


Miles, not hearing the announcement of the winner, spied down at Regina not only struggling with her dress split open in back, but desperately trying to keep her tits covered. At the exact moment Miles sifted the itching powder down from above the scoreboard, Primrose jostled Beth out of the way and took her place next to the President. The crestfallen cheerleader protested loudly “I cannot believe you chose HER!” “I have never been so humiliated!” Prim’s catty remarks were broadcasted throughout the gym by the PA system and an awkward hush fell over the gym. Too late did Miles realize his error as he futilely tried to fan the falling powder away from his girlfriend. Losing his balance, the young man slipped from his perch and fell to the dais below. Fortunately, Miles landed squarely atop the podium, its leather padding cushioning his fall, as the crushed structure toppled over taking a significant portion of Regina’s gown with it. A loud “RRRRiiiiPPPP” over the PA speakers was heard by all with hilarity as the entire rear panel of Regina’s red dress was torn away revealing her brilliant white long-line panty girdle and her strapless bra backstrap. Miles, sprawled atop the wrecked podium, looked up at the astonished mother and daughter. He gazed at Regina’s full girdled bottom and the lacy leg cuffs gartered securely to her silk stockings. Gasping in shock, Regina spun on her high heels away from him, but in doing so, flashed her dazzling girdle and straining bra strap to the entire audience who broke out in raucous laughter. Regina stammered, “This cann..n...not be happ..pp..ening”. The Miles then looked over at the fuming Primrose. With great dismay, he saw a good amount of the Acme XXX Scratchy/Sneeze Powder had settled on Primrose’s hair and sweater top. As the terrible realization of what was about to happen dawned on dimwitted dork, he noted more of the powder raining down on himself. He stared with alarm, open mouthed, at his sweaty body and uniform, spotted with the nasty powder.

Irritating Incident, Ivy Industrial Institute, Part 3, Conclusion_v2_revised
 

Irritating Incident, Ivy Industrial Institute, Part 3, Conclusion_v2_revised


I must credit the author Shaw (I believe) for the fire extinguisher prank. I completely forgot about his earlier story from Yahoo Groups but saw it recently and need to declare I am not the originator of this idea. I appreciate any feedback and welcome ideas for the next story. Thank you.


Gathered around the provost and fallen prankster, Ms. Cockfoster, Mr. Bastermats, Beth, Genevieve and the itching-powdered Primrose all looked unbelievingly at Miles and Regina. The former still in shock from his fall and the latter in dishabille, futilely attempting to keep her bright white backside turned away from the audience. Primrose, astounded at the scene unfolding around her, yelled at her boyfriend sprawled across the damaged podium; “Miles!!!” “What have you done?” She watched her nearly stripped mother trying desperately to find a way out of this mortifying moment while keeping her tightly girded tail and imminently emerging tits covered. “I cannot believe you...…” she continued, “AaaHCOO!” Primrose sneezed as she felt a burning sensation around her head and shoulders. “I was trying to make you look better after they selected Beth”, Miles implored. “You moron!”, Primrose fired back. “How is this making me look better? I look ridiculous, and look at what you did to my mom!” Miles, sneezing now too, leapt to his high tops, and moved to Prim’s side to help. Spontaneously, Primrose and Miles began a frenzied dance, periodically sneezing while they scratched at their irritated, itching bodies, “OOOhhhHing and Ahhhhwwing”, hysterically. Beth and the others stepped back, amazed, now beginning to smile as they understood how Miles’s silly stunt backfired. “Miles, scratch the middle of my back, I can’t reach!” Prim demanded. Miles obeyed immediately while scratching his own bottom through his basketball shorts. Miles and Primrose continued to claw at each other with Primrose screeching about the mess Miles had made of her believed-momentous event, and Miles protesting whiningly he was only trying to do something helpful. Their clothing oddly began to loosen under the attack of their finger nails as their underwear began to peek out from emerging holes in their uniforms. More and more of the distressed duos’ bodies became exposed. While the humorous incident was bathed in spotlights atop the dais for the audience, both TV stations were broadcasting live. The Institute school photographer was taking hundreds of shots, and for those in the cheap seats, the new Jumbo Tron was covering everything in close-up detail.


Meanwhile, Mr. Bastermats and Ms. Cockfoster moved to Regina’s side, shielding her with Mr. Bastermats’ jacket in an attempt to restore some of her dignity. Getting a closer view of Regina's beautifully crafted foundations, Ms. Cockfoster noticed Regina’s sexy silk, nude-colored stockings securely fastened to garter tabs along her girdle’s lacy leg cuffs. Cordelia could also discern the provost’s plump posterior, now just visible, beneath the stretched and sweaty fabric encasing the provost’s divine seat. “Regina, I haven’t seen an ass in a girdle get-up like that in years!”, the elderly woman chuckled. “If you had the wits to lay off the sweets last semester, you might not have needed it today”. Regina, holding her dress together across her rear, spun around and snapped, “Mind your own business, you old hag!” “I am not about to stand for this! I just had a slight wardrobe malfunction and I am leaving now”. “Huff”, Prim sounded. “I have never been so embarrassed in my life!” Unfortunately, as Ms. Cockfoster was still holding a live microphone, everyone in the gym heard this exchange, and snickered loudly. They then heard another sound, a loud tearing along with “Wanna bet?” as the entire remaining part of Regina’s leather dress separated from her body when she turned to rush away (I couldn’t resist). “OH..OHHH, oh, No, no, no, NNNOOO ….” Regina whimpered looking around herself realizing with panic she had walked out of the remainder of her stylish garment. Glaring back at Codelia with white-hot anger, her cheeks afire, she saw old woman’s foot firmly planted on the tangle of soft leather which formerly graced her curvaceous body, now completely useless on the floor. Regina stood gob smacked in her panty girdle, heels, stockings, and strapless bra straining to cover her creamy breasts. She froze with her hands on the sides of her failing hairdo, wide-eyed and mouth open, at the hysterical crowd on all sides snickering at her ludicrous lingerie. “How could this have happened?” Regina wondered as her mind reeled, while she unsuccessfully tried to cover up her traditionally girdled nearly nude body from the laughing crowd. The audience erupted in laughter and Ernest Bastermats moved to intervene and said, “Ladies…please…. allow me to be of assistance”. “No, Ernest, it’s high time the queen bee Regina face the music”, Cordelia countermanded, as she replaced the microphone to its holder near the shattered podium, centered in the melee.


By now, Miles had scratched off his jersey top and the hundreds of females present admired his tanned, smooth muscular torso. The school band had erupted into a long version of Cat Scratch Fever while the audience clapped along, delighted by the humiliating spectacle. Still scratching in an attempt to relieve Primrose’s suffering, Miles had shredded her cheerleader sweater top while his itchy girlfriend had effectively destroyed her own skirt. When Primrose noticed her now exposed nipples, solidified by the burning sensation, she shrieked “Miles, you’re exposing me!” “Primmy I was only trying to help.” “Ohh..shut up, you ninny”, Primrose stammered. “UUUrrgg-this is unbearable!!” Primrose realized with shock her failure to wear a bra was now becoming evident to all, as her bouncing breasts and pointy teats peeked out from large holes rent in her sweater top. “Miles, get me a jacket to cover my boobies, she cried!”, slapping her hands on her breasts. Not able to maintain her hand-bra and still scratch her itch, Primrose tried to clutch strips from her ruined skirt to cover her chest. Then Miles’s head sweatband popped off, as his shorts settled low on his hips exposing a Fruit of the Loom logo in red stitching across his lower abdomen. “Oh no”, Miles thought as he grasped his undoing. They realized, as did everyone else, the offensive itching powder was causing their powder-dusted uniforms to become unmade. Seconds later, Primrose found herself in only the shredded sleeves of her sweater top and her tiny white cotton hipster bikini panties she desperately clutched one-handed while her other hand brushed a plump breast. Prim sorely wished she had worn her cheerleader-issue underpants! The hapless Miles found himself reduced to merely his itty-bitty athletic supporter and court shoes. He cowered comically next to Primrose, hunched over in his too-small jock, alternatingly trying to cover his bottom, brimming supporting pouch, and exposed chest with only his two hands like some daft denuded damsel in distress. With Miles’s sexy chest, legs, and bottom completely bared, and Primrose’s terrific tightened teats as well as a growing portion of her derriere debuting, both men and women in the audience screamed with delight at the sight of the nearly naked couple experiencing exactly what they deserved.



Despite feeling the nearly irrepressible urge to escape her mounting humiliation, the might of motherhood prevailed and Regina rushed to help her daughter, clicking in her high heels with her arms crossed across her bulging, barely-brassiered boobs. Both Primrose and Miles were still scratching up a storm when the girdled bosomy mom rushed up. “Primrose, you’re breaking out!” Regina said, as she noticed Prim’s creamy skin mottled in dark red splotches caused by the itching powder and the resultant scratching. Primrose howled desperately, “Oh, mommy, I look like silly red cow!” clutching the side straps of her ruined panties managing to only keep her womanhood covered while her scrumptious breasts wobbled about. The rear of her panties drooped to her upper thighs as her dappled bottom wagged at the cheering students. Alongside staring at Prim’s bare prat, Miles began plucking at the packed pocket of his jock strap while trying to resist scratching. The powder began to exhibit a very different effect on the young man. Miles was horrified to realize a stirring in his substantial member. “Oh No, Oh no, no, no, NOO! Not here, Not now…” “I’m getting HARD!” he screamed aloud, unfortunately over the PA system. The Jumbo Tron zoomed in to cover his expanding package to the delight of the crowd.


At this moment Genevieve, having secured the first of two fire extinguishers retrieved by a student who though they might relieve the itching, began spraying the Miles and Prim with the pressurized fluid. To the crowd’s delight, Gen took careful aim to play the stream on Primrose’s rock-hard nipples and exposed ass, and Miles’s bare bottom and bulging pouch. When they tried to protest, arms and hands extended, Genevieve skillfully shifted the spray to their reddened faces, effectively silencing the two. Regina was caught in the crossfire, and her saturated bra and girdle revealed a pair of amazing nipples as well as a unpantied red bush and ass crack, both fairly visible now. Regina, trying to assert some of her lost authority ordered, “Miss Modiste! I demand you cease immediet…. AahhrrRRgGG….”. Beth quickly shut her up with a direct spray in her mouth. The hushed provost scowled back, her face and hair a wreck from her hosing down, legs crossed with one hand on her crotch, the other across her bosom, as Beth grinned back, setting the empty extinguisher down.


The extinguisher water halted the awful effects of the itching powder but fire-retardant additives made the liquid red in color and extremely slippery. As the stripped threesome began to contemplate running, Regina, Miles, and Primrose embarked on a sidesplitting routine of slipping and falling over each other on the slickened, wet floor. The oily reddish extinguisher fluid left the three’s bare skin glistening, their privates absurdly and barely concealed with pink-colored undies. Miles and Primrose sprawled about and appearing to oil wrestling each other. Miles horrifically found his emerging knob first mashed against Prim’s mouth, then sliding between her tits, and finally gliding up and down against her ass crack! “Miles! Control yourself!”, Prim screeched in protest to these embarrassing affronts. Despite Miles’s fumbling attempts to protect her modesty, Primrose failed to keep her sodden panties from sliding down her thighs reveling a beautiful, albeit inconsistent, manicured brunette bush. Miles, in his rosy jock strap, now rock hard and threatening to escape his remaining bit of modesty, stuttered, “Primmy, you’re nnnn..not a real blonde?” “AAAAhhhh!” Primrose squealed in frustration as she rolled onto her front, bare ass cheeks skyward, and pounded the wet floor with her fist while covering her exposed mismatched sn*tch. During this tussle, Regina realized she must escape with some shred of dignity or she would have to leave town. She wheeled about but skidded as her heels flew out from under her. Regina sat down hard on her bottom nearly knocking the wind out her, and unknowingly to her, pushing her enormous boobs above her strapless brassiere generating even more hilarity for the audience. Using the wrecked podium for support, Regina began to clamber to her feet. Regrettably, Regina’s girdle got hooked on the vexatious school seal and as Regina hauled herself up, she neatly peeled the panty girdle halfway off her big bottom. Looking like the Coppertone girl (woman) with most of her delicious ass now on full display, the provost craned her head around to witness her latest embarrassment, looking absolutely abashed back and forth from her uncovered derriere, to her knockout boobs, to the raucous audience, to the Jumbo Tron now centered on her magnificent bare bottom. Despite her efforts, the secure metal seal refused to release its grip on her lowered panty girdle no matter how hard she tugged. Miles then tried to help, but mesmerized by her lovely ass cleft, could only stare in bewilderment as unbelievably, the last of the itching powder from the bottle above sifted down and thoroughly dusted the provost’s plush posterior. Still stooped over gripping the podium unable to cover the teats of her tremendous tits, Regina yelled back, “Miles, are you going to help me or just ogle my ass?” Still paralyzed, despite a strap from his jock snapping loose, Miles could only watch as Regina’s girdle suddenly broke free. It snapped back with enough force to leave a bright red welt neatly bisecting both of Regina’s bared bottom cheeks. “YYEEOOOOWWW!!! She howled, springing completely upright. The overtaxed bandeau bra could take no more and it burst open and flew across the stage wrapping around the still prone Primrose’s head so she couldn’t see what was happening.


The band continued playing Cat Scratch Fever as Regina hopped about the dais wriggling her hips and ass in a most undignified fashion as the Acme XXX powder went to work. Squeezing her enormous tits, Regina shouted “Someone, please ASS-ist me!” Miles, determined get something right, grabbed the second extinguisher and thrust the cone-shaped nozzle inside the top of Regina’s girdle, gently parting her plump ass cheeks. Trying to remain a gentleman, he turned to avert his eyes, then depressed the trigger. What he did not realize, was the second fire extinguisher, known as a Class B, was for fighting liquid fuel fires and was charged with fire-retardant foam. Regina’s eyes grew as large as hens’ eggs then comically crossed as she felt the ice-cold creamy foam fill her panty girdle. Her most intimate areas were coated by the frosty froth resembling vanilla pudding. The visage of the bug-eyed Regina, stooped forward knock-kneed, and clutching her big boobs, flashed on the Jumbo Tron as Genevieve and Beth giggled at Regina’s expression as her seat was essentially foam-packed. The girdle inflated to full capacity as the audience bellowed its approval. “What is going on?” whined Primrose, trying to get up, her vision still obscured by her mother’s bra as she wiggled her reddened ass cheeks on all fours. Regina felt utterly ridiculous but immensely aroused by the frozen foam nestled in her nether regions. Her nipples protruded nearly half an inch as Miles stared at her, bent over, grasping his broken jock over his enormous raging phallus. The disgraced Regina was then forced across her sexual threshold in front of all her students, faculty, and parents. She bolted upright up to her full 6 foot plus stature in heels and loudly yelped as she experienced a mind-blowing orgasm. Simultaneously, the front snap closure of her girdle failed and a thick stream of foam gushed from the opening, shooting what looked like a cascade of cream from her loins in an arc through the air. The freezing foam gave the simmering sexpot another orgasm as she gazed down red-faced at her cooling red coochie while each hand pinched an enormous taught nipple. Regina resembled an obscene fountain. She stole the show on the Jumbo Tron, cross-eyed, fondling her tits with froth spewing skyward from her crimson womanhood as her mouth formed a perfect O shape.


Within seconds of her second release, the gasping Regina, grasping the reality of the shameful show she was performing, abruptly stooped over to cover her now frozen female flower, and with a BANG, the brimming girdle finally failed. The entire seat of her shapewear was blown out, hanging down like an open barn-door bottom closure on old fashioned underwear. The rearward force of the bursting girdle propelled Miles and the blotchy, revealed-a-brunette, Primrose, both of whom were just regaining their footing, together backward in a naked tangle of arms and legs. Clutching a big boob, Regina reached around with her other hand and shockingly realized what had happened when she could only feel her bare bottom and no girdle covering her rear end. She tried in vain to cover her big ass, but her hand was too small. Foam was spattered in her ruined hair, hanging now in ropes around her furiously blushing face. Regina frantically stared around the arena and grasped her mortifying situation. “OMG…..I am nnnn..naked on stage and covered in this tingling, effervescent emulsion” she wailed aloud. For a moment she thought she could smear the foam over her tits and burning bush for coverage, but sadly discovered the foam too runny to cover her nudity. Howling in frustration, she leaned forward deeply to hide her pussy, and felt the wrecked girdle fold over and roll down on its own accord, shimmying off her ass to nearly to her knees, now tightly hobbling her movements. Squeaking in dismay, Regina stooped again to pull the girdle back up, but inconceivably found her rings and bracelets were now entangled with her garter tabs. “This is unbelievable!!” she screamed as she tried to escape the stage and her infamous role as the local laughingstock. With her hands effectively attached to her thighs, and unable to fully stand up, Regina tried to shuffle toward the exit. Unfortunately, the dreaded school seal on the podium, snagged her ruined foundation one final time, tripping up the wriggling provost and so pitched Regina abruptly forward. With her arms still tied to her droopy girdle, boobs bouncing wildly, and her mouth wide open with alarm, Regina’s impending fall was arrested when she collided with the mic stand and literally ate the microphone Ms. Cockfoster had replaced earlier. A silence fell over the gymnasium at this spectacle. Slowly stumbling back to regain her footing on enormous heels and maintaining her balance while still bent over, Regina with the red foam end of the microphone lodged firmly between her ruby lips and her full mouth comically agape, shook her head in disbelief as she gawked wide-eyed at the astonished audience. What happened next put the absolute cherry on these three sundaes. As Primrose and Miles got to their feet again, both tried to run. However, the earlier tumble caused both Primrose’s panties and Miles’s ruined jock strap to fall to their feet and now served to trip them both as well. Primrose stumbled backwards and sat squarely on the little covered award table, her eyes popping open like they were on stalks. Miles slipped and spun around; his enormous penis acted like a bright red missile guiding him toward certain misadventure. Regina, backing away from her enormous and preposterous hobbled image depicted on the Jumbo Tron, collided ass-first with the priapic naked young man. The silence persisted across the gymnasium. No one could believe what had happened.


As the local TV station, WENF as well as the student cable access channel, ENM-TV, continued to roll their cameras broadcasting the spectacle to every viewer as well as recording it for posterity, a singular brilliant FLASH appeared as the school photographer took an NC-17 rated spicy shot for the yearbook, and hundreds of private sales. Primrose, like a naked pink spotted pony, comically splotched by the red scratch and irritated marks mottling her beautiful creamy flesh, fell to the floor, quickly rolled over on her belly, then arose to her knees and elbows. With her knees apart and ass lifted high, tits squashed on the cool stage floor, soaked hair hanging down, mouth open in bewildered shame; she gazed over her shoulder at her bottom discovering her lovely pussy was impaled by nearly seven inches of the bright orange “popsicle”. Directly behind Primrose, a naked Miles stood upright, his tomato-red face glowing, smooth skin glistening with perspiration, his hands gripping each of his beautiful butt cheeks. Miles, with an expression utter disbelief, realized as he stared at the crowd and cameras, incredibly, he was rogering provost Regina Dubois. Regina, stooped and hobbled with her hands tangled in her ruined girdle bunched with her stockings around her knees, sensed her full and luscious boobs hanging down and swaying like ripe melons capped by huge nipples hard as diamonds. Her beet-red astonished visage and hair dripping with the gooey creamy fire retardant, gave her the appearance not of a distinguished senior member of the faculty, but of a semen-sprayed strumpet being shagged by a student. With her mouth lewdly filled with the red-capped microphone, her lovely plump ass cheeks parted by Miles’s monstrous member buried deep inside her, Regina wretchedly felt not only wholly naked and ashamed in front of the whole assembly, but salaciously stuffed from both ends. Just to the left of the naked trio was Beth who flashed a huge smile, held her scholarship aloft, and gave a big thumbs up for the school photographer just as he snapped the epic picture that captured the humiliating downfall of the three disgraced dunderheads who foolishly tried to ruin her big day.


Primrose now completely denuded save her sneakers, hopped to her feet and withdrew the invasive statuette. Sobbing with shame, she ran for her Mommy. Miles, wide eyes staring down at Regia’s ass pressed against him, exploded and rocked back as Regina lurched forward with a big sneeze and her third mortifying public orgasm today. The phallic microphone launched from her mouth with a loud popping noise in concert with the popping noise as Miles pulled out of her rear end. The tremendous sneeze also freed Regina’s hands from her tangled stockings and catapulted her ruined girdle over the scoreboard. Howling with humiliation, Regina gripped one plump boob and thrust her other hand into her sopping sn*tch and ran buck naked save for her heels and droopy stockings toward the exit, her recently frosted ass cheeks bouncing deliciously behind her. The threesome bolted through the double fire doors behind the dais. The last image they left for the assembled throng of audience, students, and band, was of three sets of glorious buns wriggling, two pair of beautiful breasts bouncing, and one big boner bobbing. Regina, Primrose, and Miles then pushed their naked way through the fully dressed visitors at the city park outside drawing huge cheers from the delighted citizenry.

Prim had Beginner's Luck, but Regina was Undone. Part 1.
 

Prim had Beginner's Luck, but Regina was Undone.


*All characters are over 18 years old*


*I have taken generous liberties with this skit; I hope you enjoy it*


(1) "Beginner's Luck" | Little Rascals Shorts | FULL EPISODE - YouTube


Part 1. Our Gang’s Scheme to Make Regina Cancel Primrose’s Performance at the Talent Contest


On a brilliant fall day, well into the new school year, we find our young characters; Primrose Dubois in her pink cheerleader togs, her crush Miles Jameson in his basketball uniform, her frenemy, and oft rival Brooke Broadsheets, who along with Genevieve, Miles’s sister and Beth Modiste, matched Primrose. They wore the short skirts and midriff-baring halter tops emblazoned with the Industrial Institute’s Cheer Squad logo, the “Cup Cakes.” Next to the cheerleaders sat Edward French, and at the end of the table sat the prankster Al Roper, and Annie A. Anderssen, Prim’s pal. All were assembled at the student union of the Ivy Industrial Institute, sharing a pizza after classes. Primrose began, “You all will not believe me when I tell you my mother is forcing me to enter a stupid talent contest at the Puttyville Community Theater.” “What, really?” Brooke questioned, shocked. Primrose responded, “She wants to make an actress out of me! Can you imagine?” Al retorted, “Actors and actresses are sissies!” Primrose opined her objection, “I know, but if I win, I’ll be treading the boards until I graduate! I cannot imagine the thought of being a DRAMA queen, or even a Theatrical Arts major when my dream is to work for the U.S. Treasury or OC C.gov!” Miles responded to his despondent girlfriend, “Your mom is always putting you up to something...” Then Annie piped up, while popping a pepperoni into her mouth, “Well, you won’t win! We will all be in the front row and we will make sure you flop!” Miles then added, “Primrose, if you agree, we can make this recital into a monumentally mortifying moment for your mother, and with Al’s help, it should be a slam dunk.” Annie added, “Yes ma’am, we will hiss and hoot you off the stage. We’ll give you the works!” Beth added all Smiley, “Right? Too easy!”


But now Primrose looked down at her sneaks and muttered, “Yeah, thanks to you all, but now Mom wants me to perform tomorrow at my house in front of the planned competition’s judges! You all are invited too. Miles, she plans to use you and Gen as a pair of cute servers. Go figure?!” “Well, you are the prettiest in our class” Miles said touching her bare shoulder, while Prim blushed demurely and lowered her gaze. Brook, Gene, Beth, and Annie all chimed in, "No worries, we can wreck that too! We will be there for you, Primrose!” The frosh gave each other their gang’s high-sign, while Al rubbed his chin to think of how he could disrupt, play pretty pranks, derail, and possibly denude, some contestants at this talent show. Oh, how so sweet it would be, to have all perhaps get a glimpse of garter, or of stocking, or something more scandalously shocking!

The DA Watcher Contest
 

As a gesture of my sincere thanks to my watchers, and fans here, I designed a contest regarding my latest story, Prim had Beginner's Luck, but Regina was Undone. based on Our Gang’s, “Beginner’s Luck” from Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer Studios.

Within this story are hidden many ENF/EUF related references from the genres of Film, Fiction, and the World Wide Web, (I know, a big field!). The first individual and legitimate ‘watcher’ at the time of discovery and submission, who correctly identifies the most of these references NLT six days, or precisely 144 hours after my final post, wins a story commission.

Please see details to be published, of course at a later date.

Thanks again, everyone!

Part 2a. Primrose’s Ruinous Recital
 

Part 2a. Primrose’s Ruinous Recital



*All characters are over 18 years old*


*I have taken generous liberties with this skit; I hope you enjoy it*


(1) "Beginner's Luck" | Little Rascals Shorts | FULL EPISODE - YouTube


With a “RIIIING!” the doorbell sounded in the lovely Italianate villa, home to none other than Ms. Regina Dubois, now Dean of Students of the Ivy Industrial Institute. Running late this fine fall afternoon, Regina was startled to hear her guests had already arrived. “MILES, DO GET THE DOOR!” She shouted from her dressing room, towards the stairs. Today she was a bit on edge, firstly for having so hastily put this show together, and secondly for failing to try on her new outfit since buying it nearly a month ago. She regrettably realized now, she had put on a few pounds, and her elegant black wool suit was irritatingly snug, and not quite accommodating her recent, albeit modest, weight gain. Fortunately, her hair and makeup were now perfect, as she stood tall and with a deep breath, tugged the zipper of her pencil-skirt up into place. She lightly brushed her manicured fingers, against her flaming red hair, fashionably pinned up with a delicate clasp in the likeness of a green, fire-breathing dragon, and cleared the slightest sheen of perspiration from her complexion. She smiled and affirmed, “Of course, all will be fine and this recital will make me the talk of the town. Today I am wearing new underwear, which obviously nobody is going to see, but it always makes me feel more confident.” Regina stepped into a pair of black suede 4-inch heels, giving her a height of well over six feet. With a look to the full-length mirror, Regina saw the tiny pearl buttons fastening her white linen blouse, straining to contain her bountiful bosom, pressing skyward against her shirtwaist, barely contained by her immodest brassiere. “Oh my… Oh… well, no matter” she assured herself, steeling her nerve with another sip from the flute on the table. “No one will see these either,” she said with a husky tenor as she caressed her magnificent mounds and tweaked her covered nipples as she stooped forward with her eyes closed. “Ms. Dubois! Your guests are HERE!” With this shout from downstairs, Regina snapped back to reality, and pulled on her fitted jacket and fastened the silver buttons down the front. With a tug to straighten the jacket’s sleeves, she posed in the mirror with her hands on her full hips, “Knock them dead, my queen! MmmWHA” Regina declared, as she puckered and kissed her image. She donned a pair of matching gloves and hurried to the stairs. Now most fashionably resplendent, Regina made her entrance.


“Welcome everyone!” she announced to her awed guests as she glided down the steps into the foyer. “I am SO glad you all could attend my reception today! …and see my lovely daughter Primrose perform. Right this way to our recital, please follow me,” she directed, as she led everyone from the foyer. As she walked, she turned and regarded her guests. “Today I am receiving in the conservatory, where my Primmy will dance, sing, and act. She is sure to win your hearts!” They followed; the men mesmerized, the women miffed, and the teens drooling, at the sight of Regina’s hourglass form sashaying before them. Her bottom was a sight to behold as it moved, or rather undulated, beneath her tight skirt with seemingly a life of its own. This stressed skirt, from below the trim of her short suit jacket, to just below her knee, was sliced by a deep vent, through which, all could see the seams of her black silk stockings. The seams were of course, perfectly straight. This vent behind Regina’s skirt allowed her legs to move with an authoritative purpose as her heels clicked in exclamation at each step she took. It also provided rear-viewers a mouthwatering display of her long silken-clad legs, whispering together as they gently chafed, upwards to mid-thigh, and every few feet, a welt of stocking top winked back at her anticipative audience.


Regina brought them into the wing of her home housing the conservatory, filled with many plants from around the world. The room was surrounded with large windows and skylights providing ample sunlight for the flora. It was in fact, a bit warm, and the air humid in this room. More well-turned heels clicked on the black and white tiled floor where comfortable chairs and small tables were arranged in a semicircle around a temporary parquet dance floor, laid out in a small square. A baby grand piano stood to one side. Behind the performance area was a room divider, a fabric screen decorated with flower motifs. On the other side of the floor, hung a gilded cage containing a colorful parrot. “Here we are,” Regina announced. “Please allow my ushers, Miles and Genevieve, to now seat you.” Both students looked uncomfortable dressed as footmen, wearing tight black breeches, white shirts, bow ties, and black vests. Genevieve first seated the matronly Ms. Cordelia Cockfoster, the Ivy Industrial Institute’s provost, then Mr. Ernest Bastermats, owner of the Bastermats Chemical Company, at the table closest to the dancefloor. Both local dignitaries were to be judges at the talent show, so Regina was determined they have the best seats. Next, Miles seated Mrs. Batavia Modiste, a prominent custom clothier in the community, and Mrs. Henriette Fontaine, owner of the local pâtisserie in Puttyville, and provider of today’s delightful dessert. Gen then seated the Reverend Father Roger Thomas, pastor from the Dubois family church, the two Doctors, A. Tiva-Veg and Vag, the family practitioners, and District Attorney Byron Gao. Lastly, the two student servants seated Brooke Broadsheets and Edward French, while the parrot piped, “Look at all the bootiful people, AWK, bootiful dressy people!”


Regina glared and snapped back at her bird, “Mimic, be silent!” She stood to address her guests, when the doorbell rang again. Annoyed by this disruption, the lady of the house herself marched back to the entry hall and opened the door. With a look of surprise, followed by a condescending smirk, Regina regarded the remainder of her Primrose’s posse. The group was led by Annie, who walked right inside, brushing past the gob smacked Regina. Beth followed Annie. Al Roper tramped in last, followed by Pete the pup whose muddy paws printed all over Regina’s entryway rugs. Regina stared at Al, dressed in jeans and a leather jacket. He looked like an outlaw biker. Regina opened her mouth to protest, but was immediately interrupted by her very own mother, clapping her hands in approval, as she crossed the threshold. Dame Dominique Dubois declared, “REG! Look who I found outside! They were hesitant to ring the bell. Our gang’s all here!” Regina winced at her mother’s use of her childhood nickname, but closed the door and faced her recital’s unanticipated trail party. Dominique insisted, “Regina, we are now ready to begin, take us to see the show straight away!” When Regina faltered, her mother continued, “Students, follow me,” as she led the freshmen, staring around at the handsome home, toward the conservatory. Regina hurriedly minced along behind them, muttering a protest about Primrose inviting more of her friends than Regina had told her was acceptable. Now she would have to closely supervise these little rascals and their nasty dog very closely, or her chic show might devolve into an absolute disaster.

Part 2b. Primrose’s Ruinous Recital, Continued
 

Part 2b. Primrose’s Ruinous Recital, Continued



*All characters are over 18 years old*


*I have taken generous liberties with this skit; I hope you enjoy it*


(1) "Beginner's Luck" | Little Rascals Shorts | FULL EPISODE – YouTube



Part 2b. Primrose’s Ruinous Recital, Continued


The conservatory was filled with warm sunshine on this glorious fall afternoon as Regina anxiously tried to get her, or rather, her daughter’s, recital back on schedule. Miles and Genevieve brought in additional chairs for the rest of Primrose’s posse and after a short delay, everyone was ready. A whisper came from behind the screen, “PSST, MOM…Mom, come here, please…” Regina stalked over and asked her daughter what was the matter. “Mom, I really don’t want to dance, sing, and recite poetry… I just want to be a student and hang with my pals.” Regina bent over and looked Primrose in the eye and hissed, “If you embarrass me today, if you do not deliver a stellar performance in ALL categories…, So help me young lady, I will haul you over my knee, and spank your bottom in front of everyone here!” Regina then rose, turned away on her heel, and strode to the front, noticing Al quickly walking away from the piano and back to his seat. Resplendent in her new suit, (and underwear), Regina regally addressed her guests; “We are so pleased everyone invited could attend today.” Regina beamed and smiled fawningly at Mr. Bastermats and her senior, Cordelia, Regina’s gloved hands clasped in genuine appreciation. The moment was interrupted by a yip from Pete the pup. Regina’s glared at the animal, then lightened her visage and added with syrupy, sycophantic, sweetness, “And I am also SOOO GLAD my darling Primrose’s little friends could attend as well!” Pete ‘wooffed’ in agreement, and everyone laughed. Regina fumed at being upstaged by this filthy canine, but she wore a convincing mask of kindness and laughed along.



After a moment, Regina continued, “Ladies, gentlemen, and …students,” My Primrose will begin with the classic song and dance number, Puttin' on The Ritz, made famous by Clark Gable, Fred Astair, Peter Boyle, Gene Wilder, and much later by a young man named ‘Taco,’ I am told. Without any further ado, I present Primrose Dubois!” Primrose came from behind the screen and stood front and center. She was dressed in a black satin camisole leotard, matching bow tie and top hat, an open coat with tails, tap heels, and a cane. The crowd clapped and Primrose bowed slightly and looked to her mother, taking a seat at the piano. “BRRRAAATTTPPPHHH!!” emanated loudly from beneath Regina. Completely shocked, She sprang back up on her heels, wondering what had happened. She looked first at her older audience, who were all wide-eyed, and open mouthed. Then she saw the sniggering, and heard the giggling, from the ad hoc student section. Mimic screeched, “The wind was broken…, AUK…somebody dropped one!” Regina scowled at the bird with a look that could singe its tail feathers, as she lifted the velvet bolster buffering the bench to reveal a deflated ‘Whoopee Cushion,’ mail-ordered from the back of a comic book. Regina, furious to hear more chuckling and tittering, now from the grown-ups, held the flattened pink, prank pillow with utter disdain between the fingers of her gloved hands and unceremoniously dropped it into the waste basket. “We will now resume the show,” she icily announced. When Regina re-took her seat at the piano, it was apparent her skirt had popped open at the top of its zippered closure. As to the position of the piano, neither of the VIPs, Ernest nor Cordelia could see the backside of Regina, but everyone else could see this show was certainly getting started just as Prim kicked off her number!



Primrose did a splendid job dancing, singing, and tap dancing. While the audience should have been completely absorbed with her, the derriere emerging from her mother’s skirt was just too mouthwateringly delicious to look away from. Batavia whispered to Henriette, “I told her over and over, a size nine was too small for her statuesq… uh well…or…rather Rubenesque figure!” “I know!” Henriette responded giggling, “She has been patronizing my patisserie most every day and I can’t wait to see how this plays out, but I am betting the cheesecake will win!” Regina’s skirt, pulled taught around her plump buttocks just could not keep its zip fastened. As it lowered, a near audible ‘click-by-click,’ announced the metal teeth parting under pressure. Regina’s straining short blouse was untucked from her skirt, so a divine ‘V’ of bare pink skin was presented to the appreciative audience. More of her creamy, top of her bare bottom, peeked into view as she tickled the ivories to the aroused delight of her male audience and the amused relish of her female watchers, happy to see the she-wolf unpinned and exposed. Everyone wondered the same thing, “Was she wearing panties?” This question remained unanswered for a moment longer. Just then, the slightest hint of her magnificent bottom cleavage appeared in the widening gap atop her skirt as Regina played on, oblivious, as the top of each cheek jiggled wonderfully atop the bench, when she banged the keys for emphasis, “Super Duper!”



Now, Al, the penultimate DA, employed his thick eye glasses to focus the abundant sunlight in the room, reflected and magnified by the many glass windows, on to the silver buttons securing Regina’s suit top. The first three got hot, smoldered their threads to the point of failure, and popped off, ‘tinking’ on the tiles discernably, but Regina never missed a beat. Al focused next on her fire-breathing-dragon hair clip, and it soon was superheated and popped off. Regina’s mass of red hair spilled down across her unbuttoned upper body. Regina felt her hair touch her silk-shirt-covered boobs and looked down to see her suit jacket inexplicitly wide open. Regina uttered a loud “GAH!” and was determined not to become yet another mum undone. She realized she was unable to control the devolving situ because after all, 'The show must go on.' She desperately thought about her open suit top, revealing her thin blouse atop her flimsy brassiere. “My points may be printing,” she worried, as she felt her nipples rock-hard rub the fabric. She still had no idea about her plump posterior performing its own pleasing presentation. She quickly tried to regain control the second Primrose rapped her cane on the stage in the final score, while people applauded. Regina interjected, “Well, that was…certainly…an amazing performance…Whew, it is awfully hot in here,…please excuse me…and Miles, fetch the champagne, and give everyone a pleasing refreshment.” Regina ducked behind the screen to compose herself and whispered, “Prim, move over and give me some more room…” Primrose piped back, “Mommie, I am not dressed, stop pushing!” The mother and daughter duo, both regrettably in desperate dishabille, hurriedly tried to composed themselves in the cramped area behind the screen. Both of their warm, full, bottoms delightfully pressing against each other's in this small changing area. Neither female had any idea the glass panels of the conservatory provided a complete reflective image behind said dressing screen, while Al licked his lips in anticipation as to what was to follow.

Ghost in the Wilderness
 

Thanks for responding! I was beginning to wonder if OCC Fiction had a pulse anymore...

Part 2c. Primrose’s Ruinous Recital, Continued
 

Part 2c. Primrose’s Ruinous Recital, Continued.


Prim had Beginner's Luck, but Regina was Undone.


*All characters are over 18 years old*

*I have taken generous liberties with this skit; I hope you enjoy it*

(1) "Beginner's Luck" | Little Rascals Shorts | FULL EPISODE – YouTube


Part 2c. Primrose’s Ruinous Recital, Continued


During this delightful intermission, Miles brought out nothing less than a full Jeroboam of Dom Perignon Brut, vintage 1935, followed by Genevieve with a cart of glasses, bottles, and ice for everyone’s refreshment. They filled the adults’ flutes with the select champagne and the students’ glasses with soda pop while the audience beamed in appreciation to be feted in this fashion. Regina was certainly pulling out all the stops for this recital. Shortly, Primrose appeared center stage, dressed now in a very short and flouncy, pink babydoll number. She waited before her audience, and graciously managed an awkward moment. Then Regina appeared from behind the room-dividing screen, flushed and slightly out of breath. She had shucked off her suit jacket, having sent it with Genevieve for a hasty repair. She now stood before everyone in an exquisite form-fitting white linen blouse, buttoned down the front with tiny pearl buttons. She announced, “I hope you all are enjoying the show! Now, if everyone is ready? Primrose will now perform another classic from the period, 'Sing, Baby, Sing', made famous by the Twentieth Century Fox star, Alice Faye. While everyone clapped, Regina cued up a record player' and clutched a tambourine to provide a bit more accompaniment, and to provide her an excuse to be up front and on stage. Convinced she was still very much composed and in-charge, Regina snapped, “Primrose, take it away!”


Primrose jumped immediately into her next number, singing and tap dancing like a super trouper, but her mother endeavored to upstage her, dancing and singing along! As Regina resonated the tambourine on her plump flank, the spectators could discern her lovely blouse was now rather damp, due to both the humidity of the hothouse filled with flowering succulents, and the fact Regina was now in front of her superiors, equals, and a bunch of unruly kids, tapping a tambourine against her full hips, without her jacket. She admonished herself that she certainly did not think this completely through. Regina, lacking her jacket, looked anything but regal right now. She rather resembled more of a cross between an extra from an episode of BBC’s 'Top of The Pops' (I am really aging myself) and a burlesque performer, wriggling out of her costume from something like HBO’s 'Here It Is, Burlesque!' Worst of all, her beautiful and very expensive new lingerie, purchased a month ago, right after she was fitted for her new dress suit, did NOT at all fit properly now. She had convinced herself at the time, she would lose ten pounds before today and, well… she obviously had not. She likely had heaped on five more! Neither her delicate, demi-brassiere, nor the matching lilac hipster rhumba panties, were today up to the task of securing her expansive wobbly bits, currently wildly working themselves free of her periwinkle foundations. Regina, while not quite a desperate housewife, was however flummoxed as she feared she was becoming a sort of governess without a lifeline as she jiggled and wobbled before a host of people, some dignitaries she worked for, some she supervised, and a bunch of Prim’s pals obviously ogling her. She felt with trepidation her most full breasts oscillate with the music, improperly supported by her flimsy brassiere, now embarrassing visible due to being a violet color, and her white shirt damp enough to be semitransparent. She also felt with alarm, her matching panties shift southward. The unmentionables were far too snug and of a now-regrettable hip-hugger design that prevented her from never quite being able to tug them over her big ass, yet they felt SOOO sexy when she foolishly purchased them on a whim. Now, these step-ins were nearly half-off her full and plump butt cheeks, bunching and bisecting the moistened globes of her luscious bottom while she anxiously tapped the tambourine on her tushy in tempo to the vaudevillian tune from the Victrola, as sweat streamed along her lush physique. Primrose however, was cool as a cucumber, and tapped about to the delight of the audience, oblivious as to the various wardrobe malfunctions her mother was currently experiencing.


Al, choosing to strike while his iron was hot, now pulled a hand-held Acme electro magnet he got from his buddy Moses from his pants pocket, and focused it on the over-ripe dancing queen jiggling before him. He tried first to unfasten Regina’s demi-bra, beginning at the back closure. The underwired underpinning only vibrated, but an audible humming he heard as Regina’s nipples hardened while she stared down around her chest with a bewildered look on her face. Then he focused the magnet where he thought the metal rings might be on her brassiere straps. Careful listeners heard a muted ‘snapping’ sound as Regina stood bolt upright, dropping the tambourine. Her eyes were as wide as dinner plates, now with one breast hanging noticeably lower than the other. Then there was another ‘pop’ and her other breast settled as well. She folded her arms across her chest and quickly looked for an escape. The agog onlookers noticed Regina’s massive breasts seemed to bounce quite a bit more, and no one could see any brassiere lines on her shoulders anymore. Her face was flushed and she had trouble singing as Al worked to increase the power on Moses’ magnetic wand, advancing the power dial to the ‘ludicrous’ setting. He then again aimed the device at the back closure of Regina’s brassiere as Mimic squeaked, “AUK, Somethings are not as well supported as they once were…AWK!... Lower hanging fruits!” A weird look filled Regina’s eyes, unsure what was happening inside her shirt as her bra was being deconstructed by this deviant. She steeled herself, determined to not look foolish, and danced on.


Unfortunately, with all the shuffling and boob settling, a couple of her shirt buttons had popped open. But now without her bra, Regina’s melons hung too low for Al to see nipples. The shirt pulled tight against her loose tits and creased around the next two buttons as he wondered if those pearly fasteners contained a ferrous metal, as he redirected his magnet. No sooner had he leveled the wand at her chest, two more buttons popped off. Regina danced away, as they fell to the floor, completely oblivious. “Wow,” Al gasped. He was so close to glimpsing some big-league boobage! The neckline of Reg’s soaking wet shirt now plunged well below the level of her breasts, and Al, and everyone else, could clearly see the side of either one as well the outline of her large areolas, each capped by a fat, pink nipple!


Primrose sang on, but the audience was now not quite sure what to focus on…, Prim’s recital and sneak peek at her upcoming performance, or Regina’s sneak peek she was unknowingly providing, free of an admission charge.

“Oh, ho, ho don't you know, A song a day…
Keeps mean old mister gloom away…
Hard luck don't like music, With that certain swing…
So swing it as you sing it, baby sing!

Regina’s loosened skirt settled lower on her Rubenesque loins, providing all seated before her a view of her lower hips, bare below her short, and now delightfully parted, blouse, and nearly exposing ‘her cradle of love.’ On the left and right, her low panty line was underscored by a pair of sturdy garter straps, riding beneath her unmentionables, but pulled tight and pressing firmly on her sexy tummy, bulging so slightly above her well-groomed womanhood. As she spun around, the men watching inhaled deeply to discern another pair of frilly stocking suspenders deliciously dimpling the swell of the globes of her bare upper buttocks. Across the appetizing expanse of pink flesh between her short shirt and sagging skirt, there was still no sign of the top of Regina’s panties, only the mauve straps mentioned earlier. Butt now, as Regina turned and stooped for the tambourine, her upper glutes jostled against each other. Nearly a full inch of her broad ass crack was on display. The younger women watching, understanding Regina’s posterior predicament only too-well, wriggled in their chairs for assurance their panties were exactly where they should be. Properly assuaged, they collectively began to giggle knowing with visible proof, their bossy school principal’s panties were pulled off her ripe bottom, not quite at ‘half-mast’ but her ‘colors’ were certainly now dipped deliciously, revealing a quarter-sized crescent of Regina’s celebrated creamy, now-uncovered moon. Al’s eyes bugged, along with those of all the men watching, their mouths hanging open to stare at this glistening peach, gripped between white and black bands of clothing, flecked with a sheen of sweat, and yet covered in goose pimples.


With a peek back at her audience, all of whom were now focused on her mother, Primrose hiked the back of her skirt to provide a flash of her frilly panties as she danced off stage and behind the screen. Regina smiled broadly, completely caught up in the moment of her performance. Her return to reality came suddenly when her boss Cordelia Cockfoster, commanded icily, “MISS REGINA DUBOIS!!, …Please compose yourself immediately!” Regina suddenly looked down and saw in alarm exactly what type of performance she was putting on with her malfunctioning wardrobe. Just then, the irksome Mimic squawked, “Regina, AWK…, Cordelia said stop flashing, and compose yourself, AUK…, COMPOSE YOURSELF right now!” With sudden realization, and her face as red as the roses blooming about her, Regina stared at her friends wide-eyed, her mouth an ‘O’ of astonishment. With one hand, she hauled her skirt up over her bottom, and with the other, slapped it with a delightful smack against her sopping wet shirt, now nearly wide-open. She squealed in alarm to feel her gloved fingers contact bare skin and right between her plump pillows, as she lifted one leg, turned her side to her spectators, and pitched forward in a useless attempt to contain her unfettered breasts. This generated a very enthusiastic applause as Regina quickly excused herself, her high heels prancing with nervous clicks on the parquet floor. She spluttered, “I need to see how dessert is coming,” as she minced away toward the kitchens, her wet shirt providing nearly a Spring Break seeable from a club in Florida, as her bosoms bounced in a most yummy fashion. Regina’s final encore during her exit, was due to pulling her skirt up a little too high to hide her fanny. She now was flashing everyone the spectacle of her gorgeous legs, high-heeled and rightfully, RHT seamed-stockinged, stage right, as she scampered for cover, her welts, shadow welts, and keyholes all visible, as well as a few creamy inches of bare leg above her exposed stocking tops!

Part 2d. Primrose’s Ruinous Recital, Continued
 

Part 2d. Primrose’s Ruinous Recital, Continued


*All characters are over 18 years old*

*I have taken generous liberties with this skit; I hope you enjoy it*

(1) "Beginner's Luck" | Little Rascals Shorts | FULL EPISODE – YouTube


After an unplanned intermission, Primrose returned first to the conservatory, so-ready to be rid of this recital her mother dreamed up. “What a dog and pony show!” she huffed to herself as she stepped on the stage to the applause of the small crowd. Genevieve hurried through the guests, handing out a playbill. Prim was outfitted as a member of the American Colonial Militia; complete with an authentic French musket, a tri-corner hat, her hair drawn back into a ponytail, a top-coat with tails, shirt, vest, breeches, and stockings with polished, buckled shoes. She smiled and gave a small bow just as Regina appeared.


Regina rushed in offering apologies about the delay. Looking directly at her boss, Ms. Cockfoster, she blustered, “I am soo sorry about… those slight indiscretions…, I assure you I had no idea my intimate ensemble would make such an encore! I don’t know how it happened…, almost as if a maniacal force…was invisibly at work.” Cordelia returned an icy stare, as Al smiled broadly in his seat and patted the magnet back in his pocket, while others in the posse giggled at Regina’s discomfiture. Everyone else noticed with alarm, Regina was not quite ‘put so well together’ now. Her rushed repairs to her raiment were a bit obvious. She was hotly flushed, and her formerly severely styled hair, was now mussed and damp with perspiration. She had put her black suit top back on, but it was very snug, closed with the one remaining and straining button and safety pins standing in for the other two. Her bodice also looked a bit drooped, and her bosom pushed her jacket like a pair of puppies playing under a blanket. Sharp witnesses watched to notice Regina was careful to keep her back toward the screen, away from her audience. Her arms were pressed firmly to her sides and her fingers were out of sight behind her flank. This was ironically due to the fact, not at all lost on the imperious principal, she was now hanging on to her modesty by her manicured fingernails beneath her fitted gloves. Unfortunately, Regina’s rounded rear end was well reflected, and clearly visible to many spectators including all Prim’s pals, thanks to the room’s many windows. It was obvious to these goggle-eyed spectators; Regina had made very hasty repairs on her skirt. It looked like she had used straight pins, staples, and even a shiny skewer from the kitchen, to close the material across her broad backside and prevent peeks at her new hip-hugging, periwinkle panties, now tugged properly back into place.


After another applause for Regina’s return, although this one a bit awkward, Regina said, “I now present my daughter again, for your entertainment and edification, as she recites Paul Revere’s Ride, by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. Regina flashed a subtle glance at Primrose her daughter immediately understood to convey the importance Primrose’s delivered dictation was without defect. Primrose began:

“Listen, my children, and you shall hear
Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere,
On the eighteenth of April, in Seventy-Five:
Hardly a man is now alive
Who remembers that famous day and year.

He said to his friend, “If the British march
By land or sea from the town to-night,
Hang a lantern aloft in the belfry-arch
Of the North-Church-tower, as a signal-light,
One if by land, and two if by sea;
And I on the opposite shore will be,
Ready to ride and spread the alarm
Through every Mid…Middle……

Primrose then stalled, but Regina leaned in with an overly loud backstage whisper: “S-E-X!” followed by a few audible “PINGs” as some remaining stitches stretching to hold her clothes around her voluptuous curves, failed. Cordelia’s eyes widened to hear such vocabulary at this classy recital, while others simply laughed. Prim picked right back up:

“… Through every MIDDLESEX village and farm,
For the country-folk to be up and to arm
Then he said “Good night!” and with muffled oar
Silently rowed to the Charlestown shore,
Just as the moon rose over the bay,
Where swinging wide at her moorings lay
The Somerset, British man-of-war:”


Primrose, with this small cue, drove on and completed the poem splendidly as the audience erupted in applause. People clapped while Prim bowed, and of course Regina edged in to become the focal point, to overshadow her daughter. However, just like stated in the poem, her full, pale moon now rose inside her suit, putting a curious look on Regina’s smiling face. Al turned his magnet all the way up to the “even-more-than ludicrous” strength setting, as he prepared to pull all the pins, staples, skewers, and buttons holding Regina’s wardrobe together, straight off the curvy, full-hipped, big-boobed, broad-assed, bossy b***h! He was going to send this (wo)man-o-war, straight to the bottom, here and now!


Primrose waved at her appreciative audience and ducked behind the screen, anxious to change back into comfortable clothes. She most-imprudently leaned her ten-pound, Charleville musket against the inside of the dressing screen, and quickly began to disrobe, touching off what was very soon to be locally known as, The Revolutionary Unveiling!

Prim had Beginner's Luck, but Regina was Undone, Fin.
 

Prim had Beginner's Luck, but Regina was Undone, Fin.



*All characters are over 18 years old*

*I have taken generous liberties with this skit; I hope you enjoy it*

Commission Contest ends Midnight, 6 DEC23. See me on DA for more information.



Regina smiled like the Chesire cat, delighted at how her daughter had so pleased everyone in attendance. Her grip on reality liberally loosened by the abundant applause filling the open room, as well as the stiff brandy she imbibed backstage. Regina was now able to overlook her earlier embarrassing exposures as nothing but a little bit of what was referred to in the entertainment biz as burlesque. She focused on the very impressed audience, with some still clapping. She whispered to herself as she felt her large, moist, nipples tighten and tent her suit jacket, “This exposition, with the elegant background of my lovely home, will most certainly go down in our community’s history as one of the most high-brow, refined, and dignified displays of the season. I am the MPV here today! I should have invited that reporter from WENF… I think his name was T. Cheese, funny I remember that. Well, young Brooke Broadsheets did bring her Nikon and several rolls of Kodachrome. She’s considering transferring to the University of Maryland, or St. Mackenzie’s for photography. She has been snapping off lots of shots I can later post in our faculty newsletter, as well as add to the Institute’s yearbook.”



Regina stood, figuratively and nearly literally, bursting, with the pride and prejudice of her powerful womanhood, as she announced to everyone, “Please accept our sincere thanks to you all for attending and appreciating real talent displayed here today! I now direct your attention to the dessert cart Miles is wheeling in and please help yourself to more champagne, Genevieve will certainly be delighted to refill your flutes.” The elegant cart was laden with an enormous cherry trifle in a crystal trifle bowl, a large chocolate mousse cake, and a tureen of whipped cream, as well as plates, bowls, and silver spoons. Regina prattled on, hoping to curry as much favor as possible with her supervisor, and a leader in local society. “Ms. Cockfoster, I would be delighted if you would go first, followed by Mr. Bastermats.” Regina moved toward the cart, careful to keep her backside away from her guests. She said, “Look what gourmet goodies we have here for you all,” as Mr. Bastermats offered her a plate and gestured for her to go next. Regina prevaricated in a low voice only the closest could hear, “Thank you Ernest, but I must decline. I am carefully watching my weight before our big win at the Community Theater. There, before the populace of Puttyville, I must look my absolute best. Besides, I really don’t care one io-ta for such sweets, I’m more of a meat and potatoes girl!” Al leveled his magnet at his hoity-toity school head’s midsection, murmured, “This will befit a Bluetakes.” and firmly depressed the power button.



“What, what is that?” As an audible humming sound filled the room, everyone’s attention turned to Regina to see her expensive outfit take on a life of its own. “What’s happening?” She shouted as her smirk was replaced with a look of alarm. In a flash, all metallic items worn by Regina, were pulled toward the group of students, specifically Al Roper. Regina’s hair clip and earrings (eliciting a squealing, “OW!” just like you hear when using the ‘remove cursor’ while playing ‘UTW’), the buttons and pins holding her suit top in place, as well as her skirt’s entire zipper, and the rest of the staples, pins, and skewers holding it on her hips. All flew with an increasing velocity toward the rascal Al, who desperately dialed his magnetic device back before he was impaled. Regina’s suit top burst open, and slid off her creamy shoulders. Eyes wide, she stared down dumbfounded to see her massive, marvelous melons quivering in the humid hothouse air. “GAH!” she gurgled as her crinkled teats tightened. “My B…B…Boobies!!” She moved to clutch the ends of her bazooms, but her jacket, now pulled beyond her elbows, stopped her from covering anything, as her struggling hands waved with her whoppers. Gasping, she watched her pink-nosed puppies pouncing about in front of EVERYONE! All in attendance were delighted to see Regina had discarded her soaking wet blouse at intermission and buttoned her bare-naked breasts inside her suit top, unwisely choosing to ‘wear them loose’ for the rest of the recital.



As men’s tongues lolled, women tittered, and the students stared disbelievingly, the show got even more saucy when the entire back of Regina’s tight skirt failed with a loud ‘ZRRAZZZ,’ from the top, all the way down to the vent. The ruined garment slithered down her long legs and pooled around her high heels, revealing her brand new and so fashionable, lacy lilac lingerie to her shocked audience. With her brassiere left off, she was clad only with a lacy garter belt of the period, with six sturdy suspenders gripping a pair of fully fashioned stockings. This sweet nothing clenched her midriff from the narrows of her waist, to slightly above her panty line across her belly, and down to just where her ass divided around back. The matching panties hugged her full hips atop the garter belt. As mentioned earlier, they were not up to the task of completely covering Reg’s callipygian keister. Instead of girding her loins with the decorum demanded of the day, her knickers, were again sliding down, to expose nearly a third of her bare bottom, and a full inch of her fiery, frontal fur. Now Regina bitterly regretted buying these sexy undies as she wailed in dismay, unable to cover anything with her arms still tangled in her jacket sleeves. Then she saw Brooke level her camera lens directly at her. Regina screeched, “HOW DARE YOU?” as she was blinded by camera flashes. She spun around and pointed her barely pantied bottom at her guests as Ernest Bastermats, the ranking man in attendance, moved to help. He took off his suit jacket and approached Regina. Just as he took hold of her top, however, she spun around again and effectively stripped herself, coming to a halt with her moist mammaries comically in the hands of the shocked Mr. B! Time stopped for Regina; her face turned a bright red as she tried to comprehend her undoing as Ernest inadvertently tweaked her rock-hard nipples. Finally, brought back to her senses by her boobs and the laughter filling the room, she stepped back and took stock of her disheveled self.



She looked down and saw the lowered level her newly-purchased panties had descended to, and a bit of bush peeking up at her. “Oh no!” she said, as she clapped her hands across her panties. She then peered over her shoulder and ‘Yipped’ to witness how much of her backside cleft was on display before the now-drooling male audience and the laughing ladies. They all watched a fat bead of sweat glide down her back and disappear between the globes of her ass. Regina squealed in alarm and clicked about knock-kneed, grasping her totally Titian-proportioned tushy with one small gloved hand, and clutching at her regal rack, reminiscent of a Rubens rendering, with the other. She effectively covered nothing adequately and regrettably drew her audience’s onlooking attention closer to her near-naked charms! “OMG, WHAT… WTH!... NO, NO, NO... THIS CANNOT BE HAPPENING!!… Everyone is ogling my new undies and my tits are on display! This is an absolute disaster!” She was answered by laughing and smiling faces, more flashes going off, and Mimic screeching: “AUK, the big bird is stripped to her smalls, only her smalls! She’s nearly naked…Totally Undressed! ... AWK that’s a Pinup! Wow!”



Regina, realizing she was now the laughingstock at her own party, grabbed her tits, but they spilled over her arms. Now cowering in humiliation, as everything else was exposed, she stooped forward, and ran for the cover of the dressing screen, leaving the crowd a delicious view of her big, rolling ass. She nearly made it before her towering heels slipped on buttons from her blouse, rolling on the dance floor. Regina crashed into the dressing screen, as Primrose screamed: “MOM! What in the heck are you doing? And WHY are you in here… AND only in your underwear?” Regina implored, “Oh Primmy, you must help me…Everyone saw me out there, LIKE THIS!” The shaking screen immediately toppled over, pushed by the heavy musket, Primrose had earlier leaned against it. As it hit the tile floor with the first bang, Primrose was revealed in a very awkward moment. Her head spun around to see the smiling faces of her audience watching, including her crush and school pals, just as she was stepping out of her sheer-to-the-waist pantyhose. She immediately felt her cheeks fire. She was before friends and family in the most ridiculous position possible. Besides her tights tangled around her ankles, Primrose wore only a pair of white panties, printed with teddy bears, now rolled half way off her smartly-shaped and tan-lined ass, with her bronze bush clearly visible as well. Miles watched in awe, her pert titties wobbling as his breeches tightened against his ‘arousal’ at this panty peek. Primrose screamed, as the second bang rang out. The fallen firelock discharged, sadly directed toward Regina’s hindquarters. Her eyeballs bulged as her bent-over, and bulging bottom, absorbed the blast from the .69 caliber weapon, thankfully loaded only with a powder charge for ceremonies. Everything was instantly obscured by a big cloud of grey smoke.



When the smoke cleared, Regina was howling and hopping about with both her hands swatting her own broad bottom, now literally ablaze. “AAAHHHHHAAA… Hot…HOT…HOT!!” she screamed. Her tits wobbled wondrously, glazed with a sheen of sweat and topped by half-inch throbbing nipples. Her panties were a smoldering wreck tangled around her thighs, several garter straps severed, and a stocking drooped. Clear observers noticed Regina’s well-trimmed and treasured fuchsia fur pie had been burnt off by the fusil, fired between her long but slightly parted plump thighs. Abandoning decorum, our panty-hobbled Regina sought the nearest relief possible, however indecorous it might be. She unceremoniously clambered atop the dessert cart, in her sky-high heels, providing a gorgeous glimpse of her scorched sn*tch. Her plump bare tits tipped into the clotted cream, and her nipples responded accordingly. She then gripped the sides of the cart, her hooters hanging topped with cream, and rolled over into a most indecent squat and plunged her smoking ass directly into her very own trifle. With a guttural “AAHHhhhhh” Regina stared skyward, her sweaty face the color of an eggplant. Her eyes bulged as she felt the cold dessert forced between her upper thighs and all around her bottom and most intimate regions.



A pin could be heard to drop in the conservatory. Regina climbed off her dessert cart wearing only her garter belt, stockings, and heels, as her naked sweater pies swayed and her panties descended to her knocked knees. Wiping the trifle from her bottom, she faced her audience leaning forward, unsteady on her heels, her arms clamped across her bulging breasts. Regina began, trying to salvage this s**t-show, her usually authoritative voice wavering, “I can assure everyone, Primrose’s performance at the Community Theatre will be well heeled, upscale, and nothing at all like this. If you please again excuse me, I need to...go and…” Cordelia, now standing, leveled her arm at the ruined Regina and said, “Ms. Regina Dubois, if you think for a SECOND you are going to leave before you properly apologize to EVERYONE for this this, this NC-17 rated vintage flash, then I have a mind to!.…”



Just then, Pete the pup trotted over and pushed his cold snout against Regina’s deliciously presented bottom from behind, and took a Scooby-sized lick of trifle. Regina shrieked in alarm and bolted upright; her unfettered breasts jumped forward as her hands sprang up in surprise. Petie pressed in again, and Regina pitched forward, planting her face and hooters directly into her chocolate mousse, her bare ass all the way up and her trifle-covered feminine charms prominently on display. Annie tugged Pete away, as silence again fell across the room. Regina slowly pulled herself from yet another dessert and tried to wipe herself off with a napkin as her trembling lower lip prevented any further protest. Cordelia resumed flatly, “As I was saying, I am going to assign you the additional duty of working in the Institute’s gymnasium, noticing your proclivity for sweets, recent weight gain, and well, your literal bursting out of your dress today!” Regina stood stunned holding the napkin over her pussy. Cordelia concluded, “Ernest I have had quite enough. I don’t want to see any more of this dirty, mousse-drenched wench who is supposed to be a leader at our school. I’m leaving and you are going with me!” Cordelia marched out with Mr. B. District Attorney Gao leaned to Father Thomas and asked, “Why do these Dubois women have so many embarrassing accidents?” He responded, “Well, I think the answer can be found in the writings of Leviticus.” Both Mrs. Batavia Modiste and Mrs. Henriette Fontaine were laughing uncontrollably. Henriette said, “Those desserts were from my shop, and I could not imagine a better pair of tits and butt-cheeks for them to be smushed all over!” Batavia, added, “As was that fine dress, now in tatters!” I told Reggie over and over; she could not hope to squeeze her expanding rear into my work of art! She’s been reading too many pages from the tight skirt magazines… but… as they say when you flop in the fashion world, YOU’RE OUT! And in this case sooo literally! Tee hee!”



As soon as the sound of their footsteps faded, a sniggering and giggling swept over the remaining attendees. Regina stood before all, her derriere dunked in trifle, and her face and tits smeared with mousse, still in her heels but arms now at her sides, hands clenched in fists of rage as she struggled to control her emotions. Al approached and spooned a cherry on each of Regina’s pointy nipples. “There, the perfect touch” he scoffed, patting her on the ass, while he mugged for Brooke’s camera as she took a burst of photos. Regina erupted like Etna, and bellowed, “AGGGRGGG… HOW DARE YOU?... I am going to make ALL your student lives a living H*LL!! I DEMAND you get this mess OFF OF ME THIS INSTANT!! AFTER ALL, I AM THE ONE IN CHARGE!” Like a bull drawn to a waving cloth, Genevieve needed no further incentive. She squared off on her target and approached well-armed. Regina’s wrath suddenly waned, as Gen queried, “How can you be in charge? You’ve lost all your clothes.” Regina scowled back, and then shook her head, “Wait… what are you doing? No, no, no you can’t, you mustn’t!” With a devilish grin, Genevieve opened the jeroboam of champagne, after shaking it wildly. With a loud ‘POP,’ the large cork sailed directly between Regina’s lips, ULG…ACK! instantly shutting her up, as she stared at Gen and everyone else cross-eyed. Gen then let fly the stream of chilled champagne, playing it first right into Regina’s mousse-covered face, then down to her breasts, ensuring each nipple was properly cooled. Next, she sprayed Regina’s singed sn*tch. Regina’s eyes bugged as if on stalks, her panties around her knees, as she minced about the room with a jet of bubbly hosing her down!



Regina, trying to avoid the spray showering her, hopelessly holding a hand out in front of her, turned and bent this way and that, while Gen directed the stream across all of Regina’s private parts as everyone remaining laughed and clapped along watching the women in fury. Regina could only scream silently to herself, “Stop this immediately. Stop or I’ll…” Then reluctantly, “I am begging you… PLEASE…” Regina then slipped on the wet floor and fell with a ‘splat’ as the cork popped out of her mouth. She floundered on her belly like a fish, with her bulging boobs squashed on the floor tiles, while her upthrust big bottom, framed by her garter belt, shimmied in the puddle of frothy champagne as she tried to wriggle away from the laughing crowd with her tits and hoochie hugging the wet tile. She reached for the table cloth atop the dessert cart to somewhat restore her modesty. Sadly, her flailing arm struck the cart propelling it across the room. She watched with chagrin as her only hope of hiding her nudity, rolled away. She bayed in disbelief, “No, NO… Come Back!” Looking up through the wet ropes of her ruined red hair reduced to a wet mop, she gasped to see the students laughing and pointing at her, and MORE flashes from Brooke’s nettlesome Nikon. She kicked her heeled toes on the tile and pounded her fists against the floor as she broke out in a temper tantrum. Completely befuddled by her mortifying wet and messy predicament, she unashamedly rolled onto all fours, and with her enormous hangers wobbling, and broad bare bottom wagging, Regina tried to crawl away. With the last blast from the big bottle, Gen sprayed Regina’s upturned bottom, wonderfully parted to exhibit her rosebud and smarting quim, with the freezing effervescent. Regina, experiencing a chilly douche and an icy-cold colonic simultaneously, shrieked, “This is SOOO UNDIGNIFIED!” She sprang to her heeled feet and began to run from her student adversary, ...but what happened instead, was very different. Lifting her heel to take the first step towards ending her embarrassing public exposure, Regina was immediately tripped up by her now not-so-new panties, wound around her ankles. Losing her balance, she spun about and most ungracefully planted her bottom squarely atop a large potted spiny succulent from South America, Billbergia Nutans, also known as, the ‘Queens Tears!’ Her mouth formed a perfect ‘O,’ telegraphing a trifecta of astonishment, discomfort, and mortification.



She looked owlishly through wet strands of hair at her guests, astonished by yet another pratfall. She now sat with her big butt wedged inside the large planter. Her stockinged legs hung over the sides, as did her arms, while her hands clutched her heaving heavies, still covered in bubbly froth, while SOMETHING was uncomfortably implanted below, where nothing should be. Regina exploded into tears, while screaming in denial, “This is UNTHINKABLE! MILES!!… Where are you? You had better not be out Geocaching or Geositing, or whatever it is called! GET ME OUT OF HERE OR SO HELP ME I WILL… EXTERMINATE YOU!!!” With Miles nowhere to be seen, the rest of Regina’s guests took the rather prickly situation in hand and eased the blubbering, ashamed, and down-fallen dean out of the planter and over to a wrought iron chaise lounge where they positioned her, the abused cheeks of her big ass asunder, and a plump boob on either side of the cool arm rest, while the doctors donned their bags from the car. Then as everyone looked away, save young Brooke who was well into her third roll of film by now, the doctors began using tweezers, to pluck the bits of saltpeter, charcoal, and sulphur, as well as many thorns, from the shrieking Regina’s buttocks and nether regions.



While Regina wriggled in response to the torment of the tweezers, the doctors cautioned her to be still, until one gave her a sharp spank on her rump, making the flesh on her big ass shake. She looked back and whined, “You are supposed to be helping me, not spanking my bottom!” They responded, “We are the professionals here,” as one grasped the fancy brass plant T-tag, plugging her heinie, and pulled it out with a loud ‘POP.’ “YYEEEIiiiPP!’ Regina squealed in discomfiture. She gasped when she looked up and began to hyperventilate as she saw two dozen neighbors and passersby, peering in her conservatory’s windows. She winced when she saw one had a movie camera and a press badge from WENF, in his hat. “Will somebody please put the screen back up! EVERYONE is looking at me, they can see my tits and ass, I’M NAKED HERE! I am sadly shamefully exciting my community!” “Indeed, you are, so please stop wiggling,”. The doctor ordered, as he gave her another firm hand spanking. “Don’t fuss to much Reg,” her mother Dominique directed. “When the doctors’ are finished, I am going to take you over my knee right here like I used to do when you were a bad girl, and soundly spank your bare bottom! Then Sig’s gang here will help you correct your missteps before I allow you to be featured at the Community Theater next month.” Tears of bitter humiliation and defeat streamed down Regina’s face, along with her mascara, as she pounded the armrest with one fist, while the other was at her mouth as she bit her thumb to ease the pain. “These shots will be the pièce de resistance in our yearbook. I will even see if WENF would like to buy a few,” Brooke said as she moved in for some close-ups.



Epilogue.



The nearly denuded Primrose and Miles had quickly disappeared in the cover of the smoke screen for the privacy of Prim’s bedroom. She knew her mommy dearest was painfully indisposed. Those sharp of hearing detected the sounds of bedsprings creaking, and bouncing youthful bottoms, dancing upstairs to the tune of the Horizontal Bop.

Lacking Beginner's Luck, the Dubois Duo is Denuded, Part 1
 

Lacking Beginner's Luck, the Dubois Duo is Denuded, Part 1


*All characters are over 18 years old*

*I have taken generous liberties with this skit; I hope you enjoy it*

(1) "Beginner's Luck" | Little Rascals Shorts | FULL EPISODE - YouTube



Part One


Saturday Night, The Big Show


A pair of trailer-mounted searchlights provided by tonight’s generous sponsor, Bastermats Chemical Company, crisscrossed the starry sky in front of the Puttyville Community Theater. The amateur junior talent show, splendidly advertised in flashing lights on the marquee, was to be the gala event of this year’s holiday season. Tonight, seating over three thousand Puttyville’s citizens, the landmark Scuddy-Albeit-Sloly Theater was the creation of the Scottish-born architect, Thomas W. Lamb and exemplified the opulence and grandeur of the 1920s with a Mexican Baroque design style. Featuring intricate plasterwork, chandeliers, and balconies created an atmosphere of sophistication, along with cosmetic rooms, smoking rooms, and fireplaces for men and women in the restrooms adjoining the main lobby. The theatre, which cost a staggering two million dollars in 1928, was dubbed a “temple of amusement” by Puttyville’s newspaper, the Expose & News Fuse. This fun fact would prove most apropos tonight!


Inside the opulent theater, the house lights were still up, as the last arriving members of the audience found their seats with the help of usherettes while the full orchestra played a jazzy number. Leading the orchestra was the buttoned-down, but markedly MILFY, band director from the Ivy Industrial Institute, Ms. Bushyberry. She wore a floor-length black dress matching all the females performing, and waved her baton with authority. Primrose’s posse was tactically well-positioned stage left, seated directly behind the orchestra pit, armed to the hilt. There, they deviously waited to ruin her performance with a whole host of wickedly humorous pranks. They were determined to make Primrose’s performance an absolute disaster. Behind the massive burgundy curtain, a hive of activity buzzed as a host of youthful amateur performers excitedly milled about, and their mother managers moved nervously around trying to ensure all the details for their child’s performance were attended to. The MC, used to dealing with professionals, was now flustered by the youthful contestants and their pushy mothers. He tried to maintain a modicum of control of the backstage bruhaha, while the house lights blinked to signal the start of the show. Checking his list, he realized he was missing only one contestant, none other than Primrose Dubois. “If she doesn’t arrive soon, so help me, I will start without them,” he vowed to the other contestants.


One Month Earlier


The seeds of Regina and Primrose Dubois’s, disastrous denuded denouement was sown at the fashionable dress maker shop in Puttyville where Beth’s mother, Batavia Modiste held her final fitting session with the local self-proclaimed VIP, Ms. Regina Dubois. Beth had worked very hard to create Regina’s vision, an elegant scarlet velvet dress, with matching covered buttons from knee to throat. Regina had been very clear in her instructions as to her dress’s design. She insisted the gown be nearly bullet-proof and not show any shocking amounts of stocking or ANY of her bountiful bosom cleavage. All her formidable figure’s wobbly bits were to be securely supported and tucked away out of sight inside a modest holiday dress. She had even told Batavia, “I could never relive last month’s mortification at my house, especially not at the contest in front of thousands.” However, the vainglorious vixen craved both attention and media talent coverage, and was determined to show off and ensure SHE was the center of attention at the Community Theater. Regina contradicted her earlier instructions to Batavia and demanded the dressmaker literally paint her curves with luxurious antique rouge-tinted fabrics, which unfortunately lacked the elasticity of today’s materials.


During this session, the scarlet dress was found by both ladies to be very tight and straining the front-buttons when Regina swept in from the dressing room and stood before the mirrors. There were gaps in the fabric through which Regina’s flesh and lingerie peeked out. Batavia suggested, “Ms. Dubois, I should let this out…again…it seems you have gotten larger…I mean, if you had to bend over… I could not be responsible for…” Regina blustered right back, “How dare you Batavia? I am NOT fat, nor an I GAINING weight!” Regina insisted, “Take more in, I say! I AM losing weight,” and your creation ABSOLUTELY MUST show my figure most flatteringly. Besides, I have some new lingerie and foundations ordered from Europe and they will…, uh, take up any slack so to speak.” It is imperative this dress be perfect for the cast party following the competition where WENF and the newspaper photographers will be snapping stills and making movies of us all! It is so important to maintain MY REPUTATION!” “Well,” Batavia persisted, “I recommend you at least wear a coordinating-colored slip…, just in case.” Regina scowled in response, but nodded her head in concession.


Tuesday Before the Talent Contest


Our Gang was gathered at Primrose’s house to discuss her plight while she practiced her soliloquy. "Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears," Primrose declared, wearing a Roman general’s helmet in the conservatory of her mother’s elegant Italianate home. As it was a warm day, the room’s many windows were open and several of Primrose’s classmates overheard her reciting her speech for the talent contest. Primrose saw her squad’s high sign, so she stopped reciting and leaned out the window. They all ran up and Primrose said, “My mother is obsessed with my performance. She would not even let me choose what to do for the talent contest, and you will not believe the skimpy costume she expects me to wear in front of the entire town! She directs everything in my life!” Prim continued with a sob, “The only way I can stop these theatrics she keeps forcing me into, is to bomb so badly on Saturday night, my mother will never again try to put me on a stage!” As Miles consoled Prim, the kids all agree to make Prim’s performance flop. Miles reported Regina had even telephoned Alexandra Jameson, his mother, and insisted he compete in the show to compliment Primrose. Regina even went so far as to ‘suggest’ the poem, The Paperboy, for Miles to sing. The gang gasped in disbelief, as Primrose rolled her eyes, hearing her mother call out. “Primrose, I don’t hear you practicing!”


Regina was inside the next room, but just out of sight. She was all thumbs with her sewing machine as she struggled to finish her daughter’s costume, specifically a scandalously short red tunic. “I cannot get these seams right,” she muttered in exasperation. Regina had insisted Primrose recite Marc Antony from Shakespeare's Julius Caesar instead of letting her daughter portray Primrose’s favorite, Rosalind, from As You Like It. Regina ‘huffed’ at the thought, “Tragedy is a far more profound performance than comedy! After all, I hold a masters in literature and I should know, right Mimic?” The annoying bird answered from inside the conservatory where Prim was still with her gang, “AWK…, Yes ma’am, ma’am… you’re right again, AUK, always right, Always Right!” Regina smiled to herself and continued sewing, oblivious to the disastrous downfall being plotted in the next room.


Saturday Afternoon, Regina and Primrose Get Ready for the Big Show


Regina soaked in her luxurious claw-legged tub inside her Art Deco tiled bathroom. She rolled about in the steamy froth as she stroked her ruby locks, above and below board. She dreamt of a strong, young man having his way with her, maybe even giving her a spanking followed by some light BDSM play. Someone like Primrose’s crush, Miles Jameson crossed her mind as she swished in the suds with her fingers fully occupied pleasuring herself. She could almost feel his enormous young manhood pressed between her plump ass cheeks, as she sucked a fragrant finger fresh from her soaking sn*tch. After nearly boiling the bath water with her reverie, she was startled by the clock chiming and realized she must now get moving or she would be late. She toweled carefully, admiring her latest ‘jewelry’ adorning her glistening full figure. Each massive, perfectly formed breast was capped with a large pink nipple pierced by a gold bar. Looking down below her slightly protruding belly, she glimpsed the matching gold ring, piercing her clitoral hood. It was centered on her carefully groomed red carpet. She now took careful time tweaking her enormous teats and teasing her nether niche to very near a point of no return. “Oh, it has been so long since I have had a proper rogering,” Regina moaned. A yell from across the hall interrupted her self-pleasuring concentration. “MOooM! Where are my sandals?” Regina was refocused on the important tasks at hand.


After doing her hair and makeup, Regina opened the scented boxes from Europe containing her new underwear. She inhaled deeply and smiled, “As always, I have new lingerie to wear tonight, which obviously no one will ever see. It always makes me feel so special and confident. Fine foundations like these, firmly fitted, make me feel… well, naughty.” With a giggle, Regina stepped into the embroidered red silk panties and pulled them up her long legs. She immediately knew her money was most well spent indeed. The retro high-waist briefs were dotted with white flowers, and decorated with white lace trim. They hugged her hindquarters with security. Regina pushed out her bottom and patted her own ass observing, “No half-mast mishaps tonight. All my assets will be fully covered and deliciously sculpted.”


Next, she wriggled her full hips into a matching red open bottom shaper girdle, reinforced with spring steel stays. “These things are so hard to get on. I should have asked Primrose’s crush to help. After all, he always seems to have a hard on. I can just imagine him staring at me now, struggling to properly put me together, while ogling my topless, beautiful body. He would be as hard as a board… tee hee,” she tittered as she shimmied and tugged. Finally in place, the shaper was snug against the top half of her pantied bottom in back and rode from just above her crotch in front, up to just under her mammoth bust. It certainly pronounced Regina’s hourglass physique, enhancing her sexy belly as well. Six sturdy garter tabs hung loose at her ample thighs. Regina then lifted each bounteous boob into a matching and most sturdy, underwired, bullet-bra. Clipping the wide, three-hook backstrap, and tugging the shoulder straps tight, she quipped, “My snuggle puppies won’t be bursting out of this bomb-proof baby.”


Regina pulled on a pair of seamed, RHT black stockings, and tautly gartered them to her shaper. As she clipped the straps firmly in place, they seemed to be in a tugging match with her girdle, and deliciously dimpled the flesh of her thighs where they attached to her stockings. This sensation felt sooo sexy, a she could feel her panties moisten. Regina nearly had to call for Prim’s assistance as she then wiggled into a sheer, silk, demi-slip. “Like Batavia said, just in case of any potential ‘wardrobe malfunctions,’ I can remain modest before my community and my Institute.” Hearing another chime from the clock, Regina hurried to finish dressing. She slipped on her coordinated four-inch-high heels and buttoned herself into her dress. She donned a pair of emerald earrings, a matching bracelet, and choker, then checked herself in the full-length mirror. Reg was at a loss for breath looking at her reflection. She looked simply marvelous. Her new undies had worked miracles. Now at seventy-three inches tall and sculpted into a legitimate 44-28-44 fiery red hourglass, Regina looked amazingly provocative, even sexy in her new dress. As she pinned a crimson beret atop her salon-styled red hair, she joked, “I look just like a pinup for the Paras!” She smooched a kiss to herself in the mirror, and wagged her ass.


Just then, her doorbell sounded announcing the arrival of her driver. “PRIMROSE!!” Regina yelled, “Our ride is here, chop, chop!” When the door opened and the two ladies walked onto the tiled portico, the chauffeur nearly lost his breath. Regina’s heels clicked loudly as she walked to the car as he held the door open. Then Primrose emerged looking like a cross between a Sinbad movie hottie and one of John Norman’s gals from Gor! As she got in, he thought he heard a popping sound from Primrose as she slid across the seat, but could not be sure. He held his tongue, as Regina immediately began talking and silently drove them to the Theater.

Happy New Year!

Lacking Beginner's Luck, the Dubois Duo are Denuded, Part 2
 

Lacking Beginner's Luck, the Dubois Duo are Denuded


*All characters are over 18 years old*
*I have taken generous liberties with this skit; I hope you enjoy it*
(1) "Beginner's Luck" | Little Rascals Shorts | FULL EPISODE - YouTube


Part Two


Saturday Night, The Big Show. The Dubois Dames Make Their Entrance.


Regina’s driver pulled to the curb of the glamourous Scuddy-Albeit-Sloly Theater, no less than ten minutes before curtain call. As Regina waited for her door to be opened, Primrose unceremoniously clambered out, her skimpy costume covered by her long cloak. She turned to remove her scutum (shield) and gladius (short sword) from the car. She bent nearly double, most unladylike, and reached into the large backseat. Her short tunic rode up to reveal quite a bit of her delightful peachy bottom, lusciously bisected by a pair of wispy-and-well-wedged, rosy panties. While the doorman drooled, cameras flashed, and the waiting reporters groaned to see such a spectacle, a lusty wolf whistle spoiled Regina’s exit, as her driver waited to help her from the car and onto the red carpet. Her smile and wave masked her fury as she screamed to herself; “How dare Primrose upstage me here! … of all places! I think she deliberately flashed her young ass for the cameras! We will see who has the last laugh!” She stormed from her car, foregoing her drivers proffered hand. With a loud ‘SWAT!’ she whacked her daughter’s nearly bare derriere. Primrose squealed, clutching her smarting glute, “Mom! You’re spanking me in public… like a little girl!” Regina spat back, pointing at Prim’s face, “Young lady! You are a Dubois, and as such, a professional. You maintain your decency, and don’t go wagging your tight bottom about like a trollop!” Thusly browbeaten, Primrose drew the long cloak snugly around her and huffed at her manipulative mother. Little did either woman realize; tonight decency, as well as their dresses, would desert them both, and tails and tongues would soon wag!”


They walked together into the theater, Regina smiling and waving at everyone she recognized from the upper echelons of Puttyville society. Once backstage, the MC, Rupert Mularkey, rushed up and declared, “Well it’s about time!” Little Miss Marc Antony here, is on in 5 minutes!” “Are you kidding?” Regina protested. “My Primrose is too much of an artist to open the show.” “Furthermore, she is not ready. She must get her costume adjusted and powder her nose!” The MC checked his list. "Too much of an artist or not, I have her as the first act. Ms. Bushyberry and her orchestra have all the scores in order." Regina responded indignantly, her hands on her full hips, "Well, you'll just have to change your line up. I refuse to let Prim go onstage first! With a nod toward the conductor in the orchestra pit, she hammered on, “And that double-chinned, dumpling-bottomed, dowager down there can surely demonstrate some flexibility! Lord knows what she’s hiding beneath that sack dress.”


This dustup had drawn the attention of everyone backstage and Regina’s mother approached. Dominque, dressed in a conservative dark suit, contrasted sharply with her daughter, dolled up like a movie star. She looked up at her overblown offspring and said, “Reggie dear, who's night is it supposed to be?" Regina huffed, "Tonight is Primrose’s chance to meet with a commercial agent after the show. I will do everything I can to make a ‘lasting impression’ and nothing will spoil it.” “Besides,” she continued, while running her hands down her full figure hugged in rich scarlet fabric, "My expensive gown is an exclusive design, and I think it will help the judges remember Primrose’s performance by recalling my fashionable presence." "Well, since you have everything figured out, I’ll try not to interfere with your elegant debut." Dominique turned on her heel and left.


Regina then contemptuously regarded the other contestants backstage, summing up the competition. “Primmy, our win tonight will be a victoriam facilem, or a slam dunk as you kids say.” Primrose looked obviously uncomfortable with her mother’s imperious behavior, as Miles walked up and said glumly, “I’m your paperboy, pleased to meet you.” His hat, shirt, and pants were covered with black and white newsprint. The only color for his costume came from red, high-top sneakers, and his bicycle. “Can you believe what my mom made me wear tonight?” he implored. Primrose said, “Well, I think you look fantastic, Miles.” He said, “Thanks, I guess.” Despite both feeling foolish, Miles moved to kiss her, but the moment was sadly lost when Regina leaned in with a snicker, and shook Miles’s hand with one arm and hugged his bottom with the other. She purred, “Good evening, Miles, I can see you are indeed my paperboy,” as his now-tented typeset trousers brushed her thigh. His mother then fortuitously interrupted. “Come along, Miles, you have got to get ready.” Alexandra Jameson, having witnessed the whole scene, led Miles away with an askance glance back at Regina.


As Ms. Bushyberry and her orchestra concluded the introductory score, Rupert took the stage and introduced the first acts, after apologizing to everyone for the last-minute changes in the lineup. The contest began well, as a girl group of tap dancers kicked it off. They were followed by a barbershop quartet. Primrose noticed a very cute young man with a guitar in the wings, she had not seen before. “Well, howdy, ma’am.” The cowboy with the fancy guitar walked right up and introduced himself with a tip of his hat. Primrose was stunned by his striking handsomeness. He reminded her of Miles, but with a rustic edge. He said, “Well, you look sweeter than a Mexican Water Lily.” Primrose blushed as he took her hand and kissed it. “You must be Ms. Primrose Dubois.” “Why yes,” she replied, “How did you know?” “Let’s just say your reputation precedes you.” Primrose giggled at this flattery as he continued. “I’m Dusty, the singing cowboy and tonight I aim to sing a few ballads and win this here contest.” Primrose smiled and said, “that sure is a lovely guitar you have.” “Well yes, it is, but I confess it is a rental I hope to buy with the prize money, as I can’t afford such a beauty currently.” “Well, I sure hope you win,” said Primrose, as she kissed him on the cheek. Now the cowboy blushed, as his mother cued him to get ready. “Adieu Primrose, my dewy southwestern flower, I’m up next.” Miles, scowled from across the stage, furious at being bested by this country bumpkin.


As the orchestra banged out a rustic number, the curtain rose to reveal Dusty seated atop a hay bale with his gleaming guitar. As he looked out at the audience, all he could see was a revolving circle of anticipatory visages, staring at him. The boy was frozen. Ms. Bushyberry and the orchestra began Dusty’s introductory score again, but to no avail. All he could see before him was a sea of eyes, staring from the audience’s seats. Sadly, Dusty’s performance never got started, and his mother led him offstage, still petrified. Primrose approached the cowboy in shock, and tried to comfort him. “I’ll never have this guitar for my own,” he lamented. Regina rushed up and said, Primrose, you must get ready. As more acts followed, Prim asked her mother if she could keep the prize money. “Well of course! You can do whatever you want with it. I just want you to win!” Now Primrose decided for victory, not bomb. She would donate the money to Dusty so he could keep his guitar. Now she moved to inform the gang of the change, but her mother refused to let her go out there before her performance in costume. “Ok, well you tell the gang then. Tell them I have to WIN!” Regina edged out and told the gang Primrose has must win, batting her eyes at the boys. Al, smelled a rat and convinced them all it was a ruse, and they should stay the course to ruin Prim’s performance. Primrose peeked out and gave her gang the high sign, unfortunately misinterpreted by Al. “See there, she gave us the signal. Standby to open fire on my command!”


Meanwhile, the jealous Miles was wise to his crush’s scheme to donate her winnings to Dusty. Determined to top his country-western competitor, he would show his girlfriend exactly what he was made of. So, with a crinkle and a crumple, Miles wheeled his bike onto the stage. Those watching him, now realized his costume was made from an actual newspaper. Miles propped up his bike and began his poem, but there was terrible feedback from the audio system. He looked offstage at the MC, gesturing for him to step closer to the vintage ribbon microphone. Miles reached for the mic stand as he stepped forward. Unfortunately, he tripped on its cord and it toppled over, catching his shirt. With a loud RRRIIIPPPP!!!, his paper pullover was torn right off. Standing shirtless before the stunned audience, Miles felt the cool air circulate his bare upper body. He then witlessly bent at his waist, reaching for the mic. Another RRRIIIPPP!!! announced the shredding of his newsprint shorts. Miles looked out at the crowd with his torn trousers crumpled around his PRO-Keds and red tube knee socks. The audience began laughing as the young man was reduced to his sneakers and a too-small pair of bright white, cherry-patterned panties. Men in the audience laughed and more than a few women licked their lips at the sight of the near-naked boy. Regina stared at her daughter’s hottie, as he wiggled his smooth torso, sexy legs, and tight buns, fumbling with the remnants of his costume. Her panties moistened, her teats tightened, and she lightly bit her index finger.


Alexandra ran onto the stage shouting, “MILES! How ever did this happen, and WHY are you wearing your sister’s UNDERWEAR??” The tomato-faced Miles clutched a wad of paper against his barely covered, bulging manhood, and whined, “Mom, Gen says these panties always bring her luck.” “Well, that’s obviously not the case now, is it, young man?” “You get backstage and take off Genevieve’s underwear straightaway!” She took a hold of his ear and pulled him along in his sister’s lucky panties. Miles yelped as she tugged him through the part at the center of the curtain, and delivered a sharp spank to his cute, pantied butt. Off stage, his costume mended with tape, but now lacking any underwear, Miles felt barely less embarrassed. Alexandra announced crossly, “Since you now have no chance to win, I am going to keep signing you up for more performances until you can get it right.” “Mom, no, please get me out of here…Everyone just saw me in girl’s underwear!” “You stand right there, buddy-boy, and watch the rest of the show. When we get home, you’ll feel the sting of the razor strop in front of your sister and everyone else!”


Finally, it was time for Primrose to go on, the final act. Regina gave her a wave and a thumbs up. “Dominate this like a Dubois!” she barked with a toss of her beret-topped head toward the rest of the performers and their mothers backstage. Primrose clipped her cloak behind her, revealing her sexy costume for the first time. On her feet were a pair of Roman sandals, caligae. Her belt, or baltea, held the strips of leather covering the bottom of her short tunic as well as her scabbard. Around her chest was the lorica, an articulated breastplate providing protection and freedom of movement. On her head was her cassis, a visored helmet topped with a bristled crest, the crista. In one hand Primrose brandished her short sword, in the other, her shield. More than a few gasps were heard backstage as the sexy centurion-general strode onto the darkened stage. Primrose was completely confident she would win, but hesitated in the dimness. Disoriented, she tripped on her cloak and fell with a loud clatter. The audience gasped. The spot lights suddenly shone brightly to reveal Primrose flopping about onstage like a metallic fish, her detached cloak was d****d over her head. The audience began tittering and giggling watching the prostrate Primrose struggling in her armor to stand up and start her speech. Regina hissed at the grinning Rupert, giving him a sharp elbow strike, “You did that on purpose!”


Primrose eventually found her feet and tossing her cloak aside, stood up, straightened her helmet, and tried to look commanding despite her scanty costume. She began theatrically:

“Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears;
I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him.
The evil that men do lives after them;
The good is oft interred with their bones;
So let it be with Caesa…”

BRRAAAPPP!!! This line was followed by a salvo of spitballs fired by her gang. With a loud clatter, Primrose quickly raised her shield to fend off the pea-shooter barrage that followed. The audience and judges began laughing, assuming this was all part of her act. The gang continued their assault, with noisemakers, wadded up playbills, and whistles joining the fray. Regina shouted at Rupert, “I must get her off. Those miscreants are making a fool of her!” She tried to run onto the stage but the MC grabbed her arm. “You can’t go out there,” he insisted. Frustrated, Regina realized she had to find another way to rescue her Primrose from this mortifying moment and silence the audience’s laughter. With a flash of inspiration, Regina realized how to pull Primrose from the limelight. She shucked off her coordinated crimson cloak, grabbed a long, hooked ‘Vaudeville pole’ from backstage, and got down onto her knees just behind the combination curtain. This d**** combined guillotine and the tab curtains and could be opened horizontally along a center part, or raised vertically as a single panel. Tonight, it was configured in the latter style, with a series of hooks and grommets fastening the center part. Regina tried to peek through the closed gap as she fished along the stage floor with her hook. She missed Primrose, who was hopping about using her shield against the pea-shooters. Then Regina’s hook shattered a floor light on the edge of the stage. She tried again and felt her hook snag something. Regina tugged ferociously at what she thought was her daughter, but unfortunately it was something very different.


Regrettably, Regina was really ripping off the dowdy orchestra director’s unflattering black dress. Ms. Mildred stared down as her gown was split open from her neckline to her waist, revealing her enormous bustline held by her old-fashioned shape wear. She then looked up at the orchestra and audience beyond as the rent lengthened. Regina pulled her dress right off, across the stage, and away under the curtain. Ms. Bushyberry now stood on her pedestal in a white, full-length girdle, with a built-in brassiere on top and an open bottom below, gartered to a pair of nude, RHT stockings, clutching her plump thighs. Visible in the bright lighting, beneath her girdle, Millie, now-regrettably, had chosen a sexy pair of lace trimmed, purple, boy-short underpants patterned with musical notes. These strained to completely contain her ample assets. As nearly three thousand pairs of eyeballs stared in surprise, the response from the orchestra reached a crescendo. Not one of Ms. Bushyberry’s pupils dreamed she was such a hot, curvy, big beautiful woman. Someone from the percussion section shouted, “Holy cow! Look what Katie Did…I mean, look what she is wearing! Ms. B is one thicc chic I’d like to… …FRRaapppPP!!” A nearby snare drummer drowned out further ribald commentary. As the theater goers began to laugh and point, Mildred’s mouth fell open in shock as she blinked disbelievingly across the top of her eyeglasses, currently sliding down her nose. She dropped her baton, and clapped her arms across herself in the classic ENF pose as the audience erupted into laughter. This caused her huge breasts to bulge from their cups and stiffen in the cool air.


Meanwhile, Regina hauled in the ruined dress, looked at it for a moment, then threw it aside and resumed fishing for Primrose. Unfortunately, Regina next snagged Ms. Mildred’s luxurious permed mane, but when pulled on, it suddenly released, proving to be but a stylish wig. Completely flabbergasted, the humiliated Ms. Bushyberry clapped both hands to her pate, covered with a wig cap, her mousy locks pinned against her scalp beneath. Blushing furiously, she looked around at everyone laughing at her, now bald and stripped to her silly underwear. Ms. B decided to make a break for it. Unfortunately, she tripped and crashed headlong into the concert-size, pedal harp. She found herself caught, with her plump breasts pulled from their girdle’s bra cups and hopelessly tangled in the instrument’s strings. As Ms. Bushyberry shrieked in discomfiture, “Get me out of here!,” more than a few young players leapt to ‘assist.’ Her big boobies trembled like two piglets in a wire pen, as the many helping hands copped a squeeze and pinched to tease, raising her large nipples to an amazing length of extension. She then heard to her horror; “try unzipping this,” then, “pull hard on these,” and “twist smartly right there…” Ms. Bushyberry realized she was being stripped and nearly molested by her own musicians. “Whatever are you all doing? STOP UNDRESSING ME THIS INSTANT!” She felt her shaper unfastened and her gargantuan gazoombas massaged, or rather, manhandled from the strings of the harp. The heat from the spotlights added to her blush, spreading down her chest as her wondrous wombats wobbled in the brilliant illumination. Her girdle was pulled inside out, and slowly tugged off her sexy belly. She felt fingers unfastening her garters, and tracing further along her creamy thighs. Ms. Bushyberry’s eyes widened to feel her musical themed panties being pulled down, caught on her departing girdle. Both were soon summarily shucked off. “OH NO!” she gasped, but then was served another humiliation from her brass section, she loved to boss-about. They began to rub her bulging pink curves with their instrument’s valve oil. Ms. Bushyberry yipped and squealed as more than a few lubricant-laced digits delved near her most personal regions. Then a dozen drumsticks from the percussion section and the cowbell and triangle players, reddened her shiny, plump bottom cheeks. Abandoning decorum, she tried to crawl from the orchestra pit and onto the stage with her bare belly, slickened with lube, literally sliding on the boards. Her hot broad ass wriggled skyward, her plump boobs were squashed against the stage, and her high heels kicked the air wildly. Finally finding a friction point, Millie was able to get up on her knees and elbows just as Al launched a pointy paper plane, folded from a sheet of music. This landed directly between her parted, plump cheeks where it was firmly lodged. Ms. Bushyberry bellowed like an ass-shot hippopotamus as her glasses dangled from their silver chain, bouncing against her dueling melons, hanging down with her nipples brushing the floor planks. Thusly skewered, the denuded director leapt to her heels and grasped her oscillating ass cheeks, while her tits rocketed from her chest like twin rampant roes. Everyone was amazed to see her namesake berry was not bushy at all, but most well-trimmed and pruned in the shape of a bass clef, (after all, for Millie, it WAS all about the bass!) This embarrassing personal secret had now ‘gone public’ along with the large coda sign, tattooed on her plump left ass cheek.


Ms. Bushyberry minced on center stage as the spotlights followed her every jiggling turn, performing a nudie panic dance. She hopped about, shifting from heel to heel, turning this way and that, while unsuccessfully trying to cover two hugely tormented honkers, a shaved pussy topped with just a whisp of fur, a pair wobbly beaten buttocks fully bisected by a crisp leaf of Astroparche, and her bald head as she stared mortified into the laughing faces of the thousands of onlookers as well as the red-lighted cameras of WENF and reporters from the Expose. Students in the orchestra gawked in amazement at their frumpy, fastidious maestro now uncovered to be a MILFy sexpot; stripped, spanked, shined up, and musically pierced. She ran in small circles; like poetry in motion, her soft, oiled curves glistening in the spot lights. Rupert finally acted his role as MC and moved on stage toward the uncovered Millie K., offering her his coat. Sadly, the addled nudie, blinded by the light, and bolted in only her stockings and high heels. She ran for cover right up the center aisle of the full house, now roaring with laughter. She pushed her plump and glimmering nakedness through the crowded lobby, suffering more than a few painful pinches to her ample and trembling tasty cakes, proving to be unavoidable, tempting targets. Squealing with shame, the red-faced plump beauty dashed through the doors to the streets outside. She looked to and fro for refuge, clutching her naughty bits, while the penetrating paper plane wobbled to and fro, still fixed between the cheeks of her big bottom. Seeing none, Ms. Mildred K. Bushyberry scurried right down the middle of Fourth Avenue, screaming at the top of her lungs. Her utter humiliation rekindled a dormant volcano in her loins. As she ran, the sensation of her plump, stocking-sheathed thighs rubbing together, combined with one hand tweaking an enormous rock-hard nipple, and the other buried in her own cleft, all trumped by the taboo tingling, triggered by the turbo-jet, turned from tablature, tunneled tightly in her tushy, all totaled up for a most shameful supposition (wow). Ms. Bushyberry literally bayed at the moon as she publicly brought herself off, running bald and naked save for her heels, right in front of the Junior Electrical League, a group of school-aged geeks disembarking their bus in front of the radio station for a tour. Those students will never forget the sight of Ms. Bushyberry’s smooth, lily-white ass cheeks rolling to the click of her heels as she ran screaming down the rain-slicked street. Meanwhile, back at the theater, Al took advantage of the confusion and moved into the orchestra pit, recovered Millie’s dropped baton, and began to ‘conduct’ the orchestra.


Regina, not at all deterred by her shameful stripping of Ms. Bushyberry, continued to try to withdraw her derided daughter from the stage. By now, Primrose was taking fire from all fronts and her helmet’s visor had slammed shut, restricting her vision. The crowd bellowed at Primrose stumbling about on stage, trying to use her shield for protection against dozens of projectiles now hitting her exposed arms, legs, and bare midriff. Her amateur angling mom finally hit paydirt with her pole, when she hooked Prim’s sandals. She pulled back sharply and Primrose pitched forward and fell headlong on the stage, with a clang from her helmet. The orchestra, directed now by the deviant artist Al Roper, broke into an MGM bawdy favorite, Night Train, by David Rose & his Orchestra, as Regina slowly pulled off her daughter’s costume, piece by piece. Protesting in the prone, Primrose was determined the show must go on for her to salvage her act and win. She clutched the edge of the stage, and hung on like a trouper. Regina first pulled off her breastplate, then her belt, and finally Primrose’s entire tunic. Primrose found herself on stage wearing only her helmet and HER lucky undies; a sheer maroon sports bra and a matching thong panty, printed with a crested ‘SPQR’ across the minimal front panel. Realizing she was nearly naked, Primrose scrambled up and cowered, stage left, squatting behind her small shield, as she blinked owlishly at the rollicking audience and her shocked posse who finally ceased their antics.


Dusty, held a hand to his face and said, “What a disaster! Prim will never win now.” Rupert, responding to the roar of the crowd said, “Are you kidding? Listen! They love this! She’s the winner for sure!” Regina for all her reeling-in efforts, had been pulled onto the stage from beneath the curtain, still on her knees and elbows, bewildered at what she had just done. She stared at her daughter reduced to her undies in front of everyone. What Regina didn’t realize was, her stooped position strained her tight dress and she had popped off more than a few buttons fastening the front. Her gown had hiked up, along with her sheer slip, revealing her garter straps tightly fastened to her stocking tops, dimpling her mouthwatering upper thighs. Regina’s hook now comically connected with the broken stage light socket. More laughter ensued as Reg was summarily electrocuted. She was knocked back on her heels as she felt the current move through her metal-reinforced undergarments, causing a strange sensation as well as the scent of burning rubber. Looking literally shocked, bug-eyed Regina dropped the pole, shook her hands about, and inadvertently with her heels, opened the hook and grommet fastener which held the curtain halves together directly behind her. As the crowd continued to laugh, Dominique noticed the grommet hook dangling between her daughter’s parted legs, just below the hem of her dress, now hiked higher to reveal most of her big, panty-covered bottom, bulging beneath her straining, and now smoking girdle, clenched across the top of her big ass. Dominique smiled broadly, winked at Rupert, and moved toward the operating rail of the fly system to raise the curtain. Dominque shouted to everyone backstage watching Regina’s rearview wardrobe malfunction, “Here’s where we stop the show!”

Bravo! Truly a masterwork. The added bonus of the conductress' humiliation is a mere appetizer to what's to come. Great job as always - thanks!

Lacking Beginner's Luck, the Dubois Duo are Denuded, Fin
 

Lacking Beginner's Luck, the Dubois Duo are Denuded


*All characters are over 18 years old*

*I have taken generous liberties with this skit; I hope you enjoy it. I also want to credit A. Karsh and two unknown authors, from years ago, who made their cut at this classic. I employed some of their specific ideas here*

(1) "Beginner's Luck" | Little Rascals Shorts | FULL EPISODE - YouTube


Part Three, Fin


Dominique Ended the Show


Regina heard the roar of the crowd and looked away from Primrose, stripped to her smallclothes, to see what further havoc her hook had wrought. Still on her knees and with her efforts resulting in her being pulled halfway on stage through the curtain, she blinked in bewilderment to see the MILFy Mildred Bushyberry, naked and depilated, scampering up the center aisle with her plump cheeks, reddened by her own rhythm section, wobbling wondrously. The mean dean sneered, “Well, SHE got her just desserts! Serves the fat cow right, trying to be such a sexy fake.” Overhearing Regina, her mother Dominque peered at the unsecured hook dangling directly between her daughter’s parted legs. Stooped forward, Regina’s pencil dress was hiked up to flash her big pantied bottom bulging beneath her straining girdle. The shaper clenched across the top of her rump; the rear garter straps tightly fastened to her visible stocking tops. Mother quipped, “She should hardly talk! This heffer has been on a hiatus from her diet for months.” Then, with a flash of inspiration, Dominique smiled broadly, winked at the MC, and moved to the rail of the fly system used to operate the curtains. Dominique yelled, “Here’s where we stop the show!”


With a maniacal laugh, she hoisted the curtain skyward, its hook caught in the back of Regina’s dress. Sensing something was up, Regina glanced back and saw to her horror what was happening. She was being summarily separated from her designer attire. The lower front of her dress split open as buttons bounced off the stage right before her warming face, staring incredulously at her undoing. Her slip next debuted, while Regina struggled to hold her outfit together. Still on her knees, she shouted, “Hey! What the…, WHAA?? STOP! I’m caught here! Stop raising the curtain!” She shrieked as her gown was hauled up behind her and over her hips. Her efforts against the curtain’s counterweight mechanism were hopeless, and she felt her rich raiment raised from her waist, chest, and pulled over her head, and right off. Her beret remarkably remained in place. Regina stared skyward at her ruined dress, hanging from the raised curtain, then wide-eyed out at the rollicking audience. A silly look crossed her face as she screamed to herself, “How was she, a pillar of Puttyville, now in front of a full house of amused onlookers in only her new underwear? Expensive lingerie specially designed to contain her substantial curves… curves she now had, because she ignored her diet and exercise regimen!” Her secret was being slowly and literally revealed tonight. Suddenly jolted back to reality because at this moment, Al Roper, deviously directing the orchestra, kicked off another MGM fav, The Stripper, by David Rose & his Orchestra, as the crowd began clapping along.


Determined to stop her public humiliation and unplanned unveiling as tonight’s burlesque doll, Regina, in her slip, sprang to retrieve her clothing. She hopped up and down in her heels with her back to the crowd, her dress just out of reach. Under the strong stage lights, her sheer slip was quite transparent. As she bounced up and down, her hips wiggled against the tight fabric and it snagged on her girdle’s suspender straps. Along with her visible panty line and her printing brassiere, these little ridges and bumps ensured there was not a soft member among the males seated in the first five rows! Finally, Regina grasped her gown and pulled it down. As she looked at it, she realized it was ruined, all the buttons were scattered around her feet. She clutched it to her front, staring at the now-laughing spectators, as Dominique dropped the curtain too far down, directly on her daughter. Regina fell, buried in darkness beneath yards of heavy dark velvet. Struggling to extricate herself, the disoriented Regina low crawled toward the light and wriggled right out of her slip. As she pulled the last folds of the d****s from her flushed face, and crawled out on the theater side of the curtain, she was reduced to her sturdy brassiere (barely supporting her bouncing bounty), her high-waisted girdle, full-cut panties, silk stockings, and too-high heels. Primrose turned and taunted her, as camera flashes exploded from across the theater, “WOW, Mom… new undies? Tell me, are they making you feel more confident right about NOW??” Regina hissed her reply, “OF COURSE NOT, I’M MORTIFIED. No one was supposed to see them!”


Regina spun around and tunneled back through the heap of crumpled fabric for shelter backstage. Her mother raised the curtain again, and the heinous hook caught the back of Regina’s underpants. Dominique asked Rupert, “Let’s see how many curtain calls this cow will take, shall we?” Now the MC joined her to help hauled the curtain up a second time. As it rose to reveal Regina crawling for cover, her eyes popped open wide as she felt her panties wedge deeply into her full fanny. “OH NO! I’m caught again! MY PANTIES! Let me down,” Regina wailed as her heels left the floor. She was hauled upward center stage by her briefs. Regina howled for help as she hung, nearly bent double, and slowly oscillating in front of the laughing patrons in her fancy unmentionables. “Ow…Owie...OUCH, AAhh…haaa…oohhh…My ASS!” Her mother quickly tied off the line and joined the MC to watch the rest of the show. The dis-dressed dean dangled open-mouthed, screaming for help, her heels kicking the air, her beefy booty high, as her Grand Tetons strained her durable dumpling holder to its breaking point.



Miles Rose to the Occasion



Primrose looked up over her shoulder, happy for once to not be the sole focus of the crowd’s bawdy mirth. Her jaw dropped when she saw her mother suspended by her panties. Likewise, Miles, stared from the wings at both his bethonged girlfriend hiding behind her small shield, and her full-figured mother spinning in her shapewear while getting the wedgie of a lifetime, decided to act. He rushed up, crouched down, and grabbed his girlfriend. Startled, Primrose turned to face him, and clutched at his sleeve, ripping his shirt. Miles deftly but inadvertently popped open her bra strap and fumbling with the delicate garment, quite off Prim’s puppies, pushed his paper pants to her face where she immediately detected his erection. Prim yelled, “MILES!! You nincompoop! The only thing you’re good for is removing my clothing! Look at mother, help her first.” “I can’t go out there now, “he protested, “I’m hard as a rock!” “Get going, you idiot!” she shouted. He grabbed the pole and lunged for the 1950’s Pin-Up piñata Regina had become.


Regina was shouting so loudly; the crowd could hear everything. Even ridiculously suspended in her underwear before the whole theater, she still tried to maintain control. "You on the lights! Get them out of my eyes. Lower those spots this instant. I will not be made into a spectacle." Smirking, the light operator did just as she demanded. First, he lowered one spotlight so it was out of her eyes, and focused right on her ample bustline, bursting from her bullet bra. The other, he lowered just a bit further, and illuminated her girdled hips, stocking-clad gams, and her panties pulled far into her plump buttocks.


Reg yipped at the approaching Miles, feeling herself suddenly drop a foot. Her panties had ripped free but the hook was now caught on her girdle. She began bossing the boy as he waved the pole near her up-ended privates. “Be careful…carefully…AAAHHHGGG !!” His first thrust of the pole to detach his doubled-over dean, went right up through the open bottom of her girdle and out its top, along her back. It neatly released the 4-closure backstrap of her brassiere. She gawked at the hook, inches before her blushing face, holding her detached and still warm upper foundation. Alarmed, her moist unfettered hangers quivered in the cool air. “aaaAHH! What happened? My b-boob-boobies are out!” she cried clapping a hand atop each peak, capped by a hardening nipple. Miles saw what he had just done, and quickly pulled the pole out of Regina’s girdle but the hook caught her shredded underpants and hauled them off her big bum. “Whaa? I feel a breeze… GAAH... MY ASS IS EXPOSED!! Everyone is looking at my heinie,” Regina screeched. She slowly revolved above the stage, mooning everyone while clutching her huge hooters and clenching her chafed cleft. She kicked her stockinged legs in frustration, then lost a heel, as a large bead of sweat glided down her back and disappeared into her crack. Bent over, bare-bottomed, with her tits out, and blood rushing to her head, Regina’s face was the color of an eggplant. She felt her shapewear began to fail with a “pop..Pop..POPPING” sound, revealing the rest of her Rubenesque figure. She shrieked at Miles. “You idiot! Look what you have done! My Ass! Everyone can see my ass! Get me off this hook. GET ME OFF RIGHT NOW! DO YOU HEAR ME YOUNG MAN? GET ME OFF this instant!!


“Okay, okay! I’ll try again,” Miles shouted back while Regina continued to scream. Al ran up and said, “You need to cover this pole, so you don’t hurt Ms. Dubois. He then capped the pointed hook with a hot pink foam saxophone mute he borrowed from a girl in the orchestra. Thus sheathed, Mile thrust his pole directly between Regina’s derrière’s deliciously divided juicy double, and began inappropriately probing his department head. The delirious dean gulped air like a goldfish, as the ersatz phallus pressed home. Everyone watched in stunned silence as Miles enthused his muse, further chafing her sweet folds framed by her ripe tushy cheeks, her garter straps dimpling her backside, and her panties stretched between her thighs. Pierced by the prosthetic penis, Reg’s eyes rolled back in her head as she gurgled and began tweaking a nipple capable of cutting a diamond, while massaging her mound of Venus. Al chuckled from the pit, “Well, she DID say to GET HER OFF…”



Regina Stuck Her Landing



With waves of humiliation and pleasure overwhelming her, the penetrated provost began to see red, as her fingers feverously worked their magic. Regina squealed like a snared vixen, and began bucking her hips wildly in the air, on the cusp of the most explosive orgasm she ever had experienced. At this exact moment however, the hook tore through her girdle and she crashed down atop Miles. Her head cleared as she once again was robbed of an earth-moving release. Regina’s formidable figure knocked Miles right over, ripping off the last of his paper costume, leaving him completely naked save for his socks and high tops. The denuded provost found herself astride the supine school senior, his raging rod riding right between her plump butt cheeks recently liberated from her painful wedgie. Aghast at her situation, Regina threw herself forward, grabbing Miles by his shoulders, and crushing his startled face with her warm naked pillows. She was literally smothering the young man with her ripe melons while he motorboated with much more than a mouthful. Miles, after enjoying a few more yummy nibbles at those amazing nipples, heard the house tittering and realized he was naked on stage. He pushed Regina off and scrambled to his feet. Regina rolled over on her back and tried to pull what remained of her panties up, bulging her bosoms toward the hot spots glaring from above. The blushing knock-kneed student clutched his hands to his throbbing member and turned to flee, but stepping on several buttons from Regina’s dress, he comically tripped and fell directly atop her.


Now astride his schools dis-dressed Dean who was futilely slapping away his sausage bouncing on her girdled tummy, Miles sat upright. Then at the most inopportune time, Regina upthrust her hips, continuing to try and pull her shorn panties back up over her bushy scarlet sn*tch, triggering Miles to begin sliding down her angled torso. Regina stared cross-eyed as his pulsating pole bisected her magnificent creamy mounds. She looked to the side to see the cameras snapping and understood, she was reenacting a rude posture pictured in the pages of plastic wrapped magazines behind the drug counter. Regina’s mouth formed the perfect ‘O’ while Miles, still trying to extricate himself from this fabulous fail, slid down Regina’s sweat-sheened chest. He gasped as his tumescent tube-snake pushed between her opened lips and transversed her teeth. The astonished head-giving-head, stared cross-eyed at the wide wiener she was publicly devouring, as Miles looked at Prim hopelessly. He then met Reg’s saucer-sized gaze for a moment before a screech shattered this man-eating moment. Primrose cried “MILES!!! What are you doing back there!... With my MOM?????!!” Camera’s continued to flash as WENF zoomed in for what was to be the ‘money shot’ of the millennium, but it was not to be. Miles mercifully managed to not frost Regina’s face and pulled right out as he had been taught to do. The naked athlete sprang to his sneaks and gripping his enormous erect manhood, knocked over the advertisement placards stage right. He bolted through the backstage fire door and out into the alley, naked as a jay bird. His problems had just begun as he was a full three miles from home with a persistent hard-on, in only his court shoes.



Regina is Ruined Onstage



Regina in only girdle and stockings squatted awkwardly on one heel in shame, cupping each massive mammary while her ruby-tufted nether split winked at the hooting viewers. She screamed, “Lower the Curtain, LOWER THE CURTAIN!” and snapped her hands over her hoochie. Although her beret was still pinned on, much of her luscious strawberry hair had come undone and hung in red tendrils around her face, adding to her humiliated hue. “SOMEONE HELP ME!!” Regina barked backstage.


Dusty darted out pushing one of the damaged ad placards in front of the howling Regina. His choice could not have been better as this broken board was and advertisement for the local White Dog Café, and carried the venue’s trademark, a big dog sitting on its haunches. With the top of the placard depicting the canine’s head broken off, Regina’s bewildered tomato-red visage served as a riotous understudy. The assembly exploded at the spectacle Regina had become. Even Primrose, still cowering topless in only her tiny thong, looked over her shoulder and laughed at the scene her mongrel-of-a-mother was made into. She thought, “How apropos!” The beret-topped b*tch gawked out at the laughing crowd as she formed the ridiculous red face of this bi-fold. Dusty then moved to Primrose and helped her exit stage left with some dignity by trying to stand in front of her. At the curtain though, she got ahead of him and flashed her full and tightly thonged tush to everyone as she scampered away, kicking the Vaudeville hook-pole back into the live floor light socket.


The re-energized pole was currently something of a lightning rod between Regina’s splayed thighs. Her eyes flashed with disbelief as she felt the circuit closed with her cunny. She yowled like a hound as her electric orgasm began, the placard tipping over and falling flat. Blue bolts of St. Elmo’s fire played from the pole, to her clit ring, the metal in her girdle, the bars in her teats, bracelets, necklace, and earrings, and finally her hair clips and the pins holding her beret in place. Regina plopped back on her duff with an unladylike grunt as she discovered the pole had a T-handle, and well, you can guess where this was implanted. With a tremor shaking her entire torso, Regina experienced her most tit-waving and earth’s-axis-shifting orgasm, on Puttyville’s center stage, literally blowing her mind. As she bayed in a humiliating climax, she bounced her baking buns on the hot pole handle and wagged her naked knockers in syncopated sways, her glistening nipple bars circled in the spots, looking like a common stripper’s pasties. A loud crackle then sounded, followed by a blinding flash and a puff of smoke, temporarily obscuring our b*tch in heat. As a hush fell across the ozone-filled theater, Regina stared skyward to see her beret and her flaming girdle flung toward the rafters. The mute popped from her sopping snookie, flying far into the audience as her stockings were burned off her splayed legs to just tatters about her ankles. She squealed and stroked her slickened and now-smooth maidenhead in denial, grasping that her gorgeous red bush had been completely scorched off. Regina’s smoking hair comically stood on end, as she stared out, shaking with denial. With a loud ‘PLOP’ her smoldering girdle slapped down directly on her head, sealing itself to her scalp as it cooled, the two remaining garter straps hanging down past her ears on either side of her head. “OOOhhhh hot-HOT… oh oooowie OWIE!!” Literally hot-to-trot, Reg got to her knees and furiously fanned her glowing jewelry with a playbill, as the superheated nether pieces felt very vexatious. Genuinely concerned, Rupert grabbed the old class-C fire extinguisher backstage, and rushed to quench Regina’s fires. Being neglected and nearly empty, the canister merely belched and comically sprayed a few quarts of creamy white goo all over her face and tits. With a scream that did shatter some glass in the front row, Regina waved her hands in front of her frosted face and splattered shoulder boulders, looking less like a dean of students and more like an over-sized, sperm-soaked spaniel. She began to shuffle off stage on her knees, but stumbled and fell flat on her face. With her schmaltzy slammers squashed to the floor, Regina pulled her knees up, elevating her punished patootie. Everyone saw her globes were seared, bouncing up and down against the scorching pole. It had comically branded two large # patterns, one centered on each of her smoking dumplings, trembling in the limelight.


Puttyville’s airwaves crackled with the likes of:


#OneSmokinHotAss

“Ms. Bushyberry is not our only teach with a hot ass with a tramp stamp.

“Don’t forget, film at eleven!


Ushers finally helped Regina off stage, and she hobbled toward the medical team just on the scene. The orderlies positioned the barefoot Regina on her belly with a soft pillow under her hips. A thin sheet was d****d over her backside, but when she pulled it up to hide her side boob, her charred globes were exposed, jiggling delightfully. Her clit ring glistened from her pussy peeking from her upthrust crimson backside, and just above, jutted the pole’s T-handle, unsoldered by the current, firmly plugging the provost. What remained of her glamorous red locks were only creamy ropes, hanging beneath her molten girdle, now resembling a period swimming cap, fused to her vermillion noggin. She blubbered through her foamed face, to the approaching reporter from WENF, followed closely by the camera crew, “DON’T LOOK AT ME! I… I was stripped of my beautiful dress, everyone…saw my secret undies, and then that miscreant Miles ripped off my bra and pulled my panties down on stage, and then…sob! I devoured his manhood in front of everyone, more sobs…and THEN I cummed a gusher right there, onstage in front of the whole town!” She implored on camera, “How in the world could this EVER happen?”


Al then answered from the pit, “BEGINNER’S LUCK of course!” He, Rupert, and Dominique got on stage and took a bow to thunderous applause. Regina exploded into tears as she was wheeled away, fanny first, up the aisle.



Epilogue



Ms. Bushyberry clicked on her heels, naked and chilly, along the rainy streets, trying to cover all her wobbling naughty bits with futility, as well as her bald head. She ran to the theater carpark, but sadly found her car locked. She spent the rest of the evening squealing in embarrassment and dodging for cover amongst the wet vehicles, when dozens of departing theater-goers discovered her.


Primrose wrapped in her cloak, ducked in, and told the MC to give Dusty all her winnings, and she went to look for her buck-naked boyfriend.


The naked Miles did make it home, but then found himself across the lap of his mother Alexandra, getting a rather severe spanking in front of his sister Genevieve, as well as numerous female cousins and neighbors, all over for ‘Movie Night.’ He gasped to feel his boner firmly pinched between his mother’s nylon-sheathed thighs as the girls enjoyed their popcorn and laughed at his embarrassing nude admonishment.


Dusty was able to buy his guitar and with it proved very successful as an amateur musician. He played frequently at open mic nights around town.


Regina, after arriving at the hospital, was sadly informed removing her rubberized girdle stuck to her scalp, would require her to lose ALL her beautiful red hair. The scorch marks on her plush money-maker would be months healing, and her shock-shaven snapper would be bald for a year! Despite the numerous humiliations heaped on her tonight, I’m convinced Regina Dubois will again try to push her daughter into doing something silly, only to bask in the attention sure to follow.


‘Forward, into the past’ or ‘Back to the Future!’ depending on your age.


Cheers, tomb125!

CHASMO IS BACK!
 

Welcome back!

Irish I Wasn't Naked.
 

Irish I Wasn't Naked. Part 1


The Boardroom of the Bastermats Chemical Company


The company executives sat around a gleaming mahogany table headed by the elderly president, Ernest Bastermats. “I called you here today to discuss our company's entry in Puttyville’s annual Saint Patrick’s Day parade.” He continued, “As you know, our company has a reputation of fielding one of the best floats, and have won first prize the last three years running.” “Ahem,” Primrose Dubois interrupted, “Sir, we actually have been discussing our entry this year amongst ourselves, and with your permission, feel Bastermats Chemical needs a new image. We want to be more authentic and promote the real history of Ireland.” Brooke Broadsheets chimed in, “Yes, Mr. B, we in marketing believe this would be a good choice to move the company in a more dignified direction. A more serious, mature celebration, highlighting Ireland’s true historical themes, and a departure from the typical drunken hooley of inebriated fools prancing about with their hackneyed rainbows, shamrocks, pots of gold, and silly leprechauns.” Then Edward French added, “We would also eschew the overeating, whiskey shots, green beer guzzling, and similar booze-besotted ribaldry. I’ve run the numbers, and doing so will drastically reduce our expensive insurance costs this spring.” Ernest thought for a moment, and understood the parade had been becoming more of a party for the Ivy Industrial Institute’s boisterous students. Still, he did not think the celebration was necessarily devolving as badly as his board claimed. He said, “Alright, we’ll shake things up this year and try something different. I assume you all have a design planned?” All three nodded in agreement and Primrose produced a glossy set of drawings to illustrate their ideas placing them before her very interested company president.


The Parade


It was a dazzlingly beautiful spring day. At the lineup, the Parade marshals were busy organizing the various floats, marchers, dancers, and bands at the parade’s start point. Hundreds of Puttyville’s citizens lined the streets along the parade route, nearly two miles long. Nearby were various open-air temporary venues staffed by the town’s many bars and restaurants featuring Irish food and beverages. McGillin’s, a local pub, had an enormous pint glass filled with green beer with a series of taps all around to pour for parched paraders.


The Bastermats float was far up front, behind the Veteran’s of Foreign Wars Color Guard, a group of lively Irish step-dancers, and the Institute’s marching band. It was a marvelous creation featuring a field of green, a castle ruin, and pierced by a series of rocks serving as a platform for the company reenactors to stand on. Each was fitted with a T-shaped rail the player could lean against for stability as the float moved along the route. In front was Primrose Dubois, portraying Brigid of Kildare, patroness saint of Ireland. She wore a crested golden halo atop her matching coifed blonde locks. Prim was clothed in an elaborate green hooded cloak atop a plain white linen shift. Wearing substantial heels hidden beneath her robes, the crowned Primrose stood well over six feet tall and graced the front of the float majestically, just as she had planned. She fidgeted a bit as she felt the coarse linen of her shift rub against her silk-covered bottom. She had foolishly forgone a slip and wore only a matching set of naughty undies underneath today as a treat for her crush Edward after they won best float in the parade. Her gown’s décolleté was somewhat scandalous for such a saint, but since the outfit obscured most of her curves, Primrose felt the need to bare just a bit of her bosom as bait for the soon-to-be-drooling judges. Unfortunately, she skipped the dressmaker’s final fitting session and today her neckline was pushing the limits of decency. Primrose glimmered like an emerald and her breasts jostled deliciously as the float rocked along.


Next was Brooke Broadsheets dressed as Queen Maeve, or Medb in old Irish, the powerful ruler of ancient Ireland. She wore a studded warrior headpiece atop her wavy, auburn hair, a brown leather corset top, silver upper arm cuffs, a matching leather skirt, nude hose, and black leather over-knee boots. In addition, she sported gauntlets, leather shoulder pads, and a fancy wide belt with a silver buckle. Brooke clutched a two-handed bastard sword and looked like she was most ready to deal with any of the Emerald Isle’s adversaries. She appeared to be one tough cookie!


Next to Brooke was Edward, portraying Columba, an Irish abbot and missionary evangelist. His costume was nothing more than a short fur robe, belted by a rope. This simple ensemble revealed his muscular chest as well as his legs, to the delight of all female parade watchers. The cool breeze caused Edward a slight arousal as he had forgone wearing the silly fur pants, and was inadvisably swinging free.


At the rear of the company float was Mr. B, resplendent as Saint Patrick. He wore a brilliant green cassock, a mitre, and wielded a shepherd’s crook. Hissing and snapping about his feet were a dozen mechanical snakes, several being three meters in length. Behind his beard, he waved to the cheering crowd and pretended to drive the recoiling serpents from his beloved Ireland.


Finally, behind the extravagant and automated float, trudged Annie. She was outfitted as a ludicrous leprechaun, pulling a wagon holding a ‘pot of gold,’ filled with chocolate gold coins, and other treats she tossed to the kiddies along the parade route as she followed the big green show in front of her. Annie overheard the three VPs complaining about the crowd being uncouth, uneducated, and underwhelmed by their new company float. She ground her teeth and hoped some comeuppance would be forthcoming very soon.

Irish I Wasn't Naked, Part 2 Fin
 

Irish I Wasn’t Naked, Part 2, Fin


*All characters are over 18 years old & thanks obo!*



The beautiful Bastermats float moved slowly along the parade route. Up front, Primrose, Brooke, and Edward, all richly robed as famous Irish legends, stood with arrogant reservation and haughty expressions, ignoring the cheering, and waving crowd. They were literally looking down their noses at all Puttyville.

To the rear of the float, Ernest Bastermats was having a field day pretending to drive off the many hissing and writhing animated snakes. In contrast to his company’s officers, he waved and smiled. Likewise, Annie followed the float in her ridiculous leprechaun costume, laughing and tossing candy to the children and handing out other themed trinkets and gifts from her cart to bystanders. She was determined not to let those prudes ahead ruin the day.

From her elevated position atop the float, Primrose spied her scout Buster Thompson nipping from a pint of green beer. She broke character and shouted while pointing at him, “Buster, I see you!”

He was so startled; he nearly dropped his glass.

“I KNOW your mother would be very unhappy to hear you’re drinking beer, so pour it out this instant. Otherwise, I’ll report you, and your mom will whoop you, butt-good!”

“Yes Ma’am” he replied, staring at his shoes. Suddenly, he looked up with an impish grin, and unceremoniously dumped his beer all over the float’s robotic control panel at the rear of the vehicle.

Primrose gasped to see a shower of sparks followed by a puff of gray smoke. The driverless Bastermats’s float started to malfunction badly, accelerating, and careening down the street. Prim and Brooke screamed in alarm as they clutched the safety rails at their positions.

Edward watched as the mechanical snakes suddenly became more aggressive and surrounded Saint Patrick. The serpents snapped and lunged at the elderly Mr. B who tried to use his crook to keep them at bay. One large snake coiled around the old man’s arm and he dropped his shillelagh. Determined to act, Edward leapt from his position to come to his company president's aide. Unfortunately, for all his bravado, he found himself tangled in a tugging match with a large snake chewing on his short fur costume while another wrapped around his leg.

The unguided float veered back and forth down the street. Nearby stood several groups of scouts who served as road guards to block traffic intersecting the route.

The rearmost Irish dancers stared over their shoulders, and remarked, “Hey, they're coming up pretty fast.”

Primrose, her stoic composure evaporating, screamed in panic as she wobbled while reaching for Brooke.

Brooke yelled, “Primrose, hold on!”

Primrose lost her balance and let go of her rail. Brooke leaned over to help steady Primrose, but only managed to grab ahold of her costume. Despite the chaos, everyone heard a loud ‘RRRIIIPPPING’ sound, which hushed the audience.

Brooke stared down disbelievingly at the garment in her grip, then at her falling fellow female company foil, flung from the float wearing only her crown, heels, and bright green undies.

Saint Primrose Dubois was defrocked!

Fortunately, before closing nearer to the dancers, the Bastermats float collided with a street lamp and lurched to a halt.

Brooke flew from the float minus her costume’s skirt, sadly snagged on the safety rail. She landed atop a series of large wooden tables in the Irish food court, face first in an enormous shepherd’s pie.

As she struggled up on all fours, she stared out at a sea of astonished expressions staring right back. Her face and whole front were covered in pie and gravy, her hair clotted with mashed potatoes.

“I see she found the food court,” a comedian dryly observed. Brooke’s mouth hung open in shock, as she realized she was now wearing only her sheer pantyhose, boots, and corset top.

She squealed when she felt a sharp spank suddenly land on her tight, upturned, nylon-encased tushy. Surrounded by dozens of inebriated festival fanatics growing hornier by the second, she protested, “Now lads, don’t get the wrong idea…”

But someone bellowed, “Let’s fatten her up!”

Another piped in, “Aye, with some fav comestibles from Eire!”

Brooke squirmed as she felt rough hands tugging on her costume, unlacing her corset top. In a wink, her perky tits were right out.

She spluttered, “Unhand me you cads! Get me out of this mess! Do you not hear what I am ….”

She was cut off with, “Hush and have a banger, missy!”

Brooke stared down in disbelief as a large sausage was pushed between her parted protesting lips, deep inside her mouth. She instinctively swallowed, and before she knew it, she gobbled up two more big bangers. Hauled up on her knees and feeling the pressure of many hands groping her, Brooke hiccupped while trying to scream for help. This was followed by a loud and most unlady-like belch.

Brooke gasped as someone tweaked her nipples, and as she tried to slap the hands away, she felt a sudden draft. Her hose had been hauled back and everyone cheered to see her firm, bronzed cheeks divided by the strand of an emerald G-string buried deep in her cleft.

“HEY…, WTF do you think you are doiniiii…? AAAHHH!”

The offending reprobate poured his Irish coffee down over her tush, shaking the whipped cream between her glutes before releasing her hose to ‘SNAP’ back into place.

Brooke whinnied and arched her back as another bounder rubbed the mess deeply into her scalded ass. She leapt to her heels and hopped about shaking her bottom as she slapped her flanks, yipping in humiliation, “HOT…HOT…HOT!” while her rock-hard nut-brown nipples danced in the open air

Brooke screamed to herself, “I’ve GOT to get outta here!”

She turned to flee, but just as she bolted, her brazen barista insisted, “Let’s make an adjustment” and hauled her hose off her hips and down to her knees, effectively hobbling her.

Brooke then “MEEEEPed loudly,” shocked to feel an ice-cold key lime pie splattered against her bare backside, the frosty foam coating the insides of her thighs. She howled to be so undone, sploshed like a strumpet, fore and aft, wearing only her heels.
Brooke clapped a small cabbage leaf to her creamed crotch in a laughable attempt to obscure her brunette sn*tch from the laughing parade-goers. Her long, tanned legs made her embarrassment more acute as her knees knocked together and her toes pointed inward in a don’t-look-at-me-posture, attempting to hide her sex from the lustful stares from all sides.

With her free hand, Brooke tried to hide her boobies, bouncing enthusiastically with pointy nipples leading the way. These wobbled free in the sun as she frequently had to wave her arm about to maintain her balance as she minced along.

With a miserable expression on her face dripping gravy and her shapely bare bottom cheeks smeared with pie, and completely exposed above her lowered hose, Brooke drew the crowd to hysterics as her bum jiggled and shook with the sway of her hips and the bounce of her step. The crowd hooted and whistled as they made out the writing on the front panel of her G-string now at half-mast. It read, They’re Magically Delicious!

Brooke saw Edward French ahead on the route and realizing she was going to have to run naked, shrieked, “Oh, OH NO, No no NOOO! EDWAARRRD!! Wait for me!” as she hurriedly clicked after him to the delight of the everyone.

Edward however, was not only similarly dis-dressed, he was experiencing a more mordant mortification.

The snarky snakes had stripped him of his fur cloak and now completely naked save for his socks and shoes, he fled down the street waving one hand in front of him and the other trying to cover his bubbly bare buns. While all the girls laughed and pointed, the menfolk winced and tried not to look.

Edward screeched a soprano much higher than his normal baritone, because a sinister cyan cyborg culebra was painfully clamped on his thick pink snake. He tried to pull it off, but it proved too painful for his erect penis.

Beside himself with humiliation, he ran screaming while the malicious mamba munched on his maximized member.

The opportunity this denuded hunk presented for the dozens of women watching was not lost on any of them for a second.

They quickly surrounded the dishy, priapic Eros and shouted, “What’s this, no green, laddie?” “Ahhrrgg…Huh?”

Edward wondered; his eyes filled with apprehension.

“The snake doesn’t count, sweet buns!”

He spun about, but women surrounded him on all sides. Before he could protest, they mobbed the embarrassed naked executive.

Many young women, MILFs, a few grandmamas, and some certain males, all reached out and provided the prescribed painful posterior pinches for not being in the prescribed verdigris vestige of the day.

From within the female flesh pile, Edward howled, bayed, and yelped like a banshee. He felt female fingers everywhere; in his hair, ears, mouth, chest, arms, legs, nipples, between his cheeks, and all over his boner.

He finally managed to break free, and staggered out, gulping for air. The nude sweat-sheened Adonis was covered in lipstick marks, his hair was mussed, and his bubble butt had been pinched so much it was the same tomato color as his hot face.

While the snake had been removed, the hands of three females now replicated its death grip on his engorged manhood. Slowly as many cameras flashed, Eddie wrested each woman’s digits from his dingus.

He looked up and saw the crowd laughing at him, so he clapped his hands against his throbbing wiener and ran away up the street like a madman, drawing away from the approaching Brooke.

She screamed to no avail for him to wait, and had to settle for the image of his marvelous reddened ass bouncing away. Despite her matching mortification, Brooke was further ashamed to be so aroused while naked in public. She felt her teats tighten and the cabbage leaf rubbed now against her sopping wet snookie between her legs as she raced after Edward’s marvelous spanked ass.

As for Primrose, her fall was fortunately arrested by a group of scouts near the float. They caught their airborne leader in their arms using the six-scout cradle rescue carry they recently learned working on their lifesaving badge. Their scout master was reduced to a scandalous bright green demi-bra, a matching garter belt topped with a pair of hipster bikini panties, nude stockings, and matching green heels.

Primrose looked around to see a half dozen youthful grinning faces mere inches from her unmentionables. She screaked in shock to see them staring at her shapely legs, stocking tops, bare thighs, panties, then up to her blushing face, then back down at her jiggling tits.

Prim’s eyes popped open and her jaw dropped forming a large O as she suddenly felt the formerly secure, helping hands, begin to roam her naked flesh.

The scouts began to explore their scoutmaster much to her astonishment.

“I’m being FELT UP!” she screamed to herself.

Hands caressed her bottom and cupped her brimming bra cups. She felt fingers pluck her delicate brassiere and garter straps and snap them back against her quivering flesh.

Primrose barked, “Unhand me this instant! Put me down immediately!”

The patrol leader replied, “As you wish, ma’am,” but one scout’s neckerchief slide caught Prim’s panties and unfortunately gave her a snuggie.

“AHHHHhh!” She wailed as the entire back panel of her bikini panties was quickly buried deeply in her butt crack.

She clicked around in a circle on her heels, showing everyone her stuffed cleft and the globes of her creamy lush bottom as she publicly picked her wedgie free. In doing so, she mooned her bare ass around back and most of her brown bush up front.

A rude observer loudly announced, “Well, the curtains certainly don’t match the d****s, do they?”

Now completely red-faced, Primrose wrapped her arms around her breasts bulging from her brassiere and bolted from the groping spectators along the parade route in her undies, shrieking in shame.

Pursued by the horny mob, Primrose deftly climbed atop a platform to escape.

Alarmed to see them jump up after her, she shimmied up the neck of a large golden harp mounted on this stand.

Sitting on top of the harp and now beyond the reach of the leches, Primrose squirmed, now nearly naked as her lingerie was not meant for such gymnastics. Prim’s tatas were hanging out of the cups of her demi-bra and her panties were bunched up around the tops of her thighs, mercifully half-hiding her non-blonde bush, but the globes of her bare pink ass, bisected by the harp, trembled deliciously in the morning sun.

She squealed in despair as she was forced to hold on with both hands, completely unable to conceal her tits and ass. Then, her heels fell from her feet and her crown slid down over her eyes effectively blindfolding her.

The loosened harp began to rock about. Now Primrose was high above the cheering crowd, and like a gone-wild spring-breaker on a mechanical bull, she bucked wildly around with her plump ass shaking and her big tits thrusting upward to the cheers of the spectators.

Primrose was finally pitched off but unfortunately splashed into the giant pint of green beer, plunging through the bright jade-colored head, head first.

Thrashing in the see-through dunk tank the vessel had suddenly become, Primrose gasped as she felt her nearly bare body immersed in the icy ale.

A poor swimmer, Prim frantically dog-paddled, her bra ripped and drooped down around her waist, while her panties slithered off her hips, down her thighs, and right off her feet.

Screaming like a siren, she bumped the rim of the pint and unknowingly pressed her big bare fanny against the glass triggering a round of cheers. She then turned around, and mashed her fat hooters against the glass.

Exhausted, Primrose threw her arms over the lip of the glass and spewed out green beer coupled with a coughing fit.

While some wanted to help her, they were mesmerized by her topless tits under glass, her plump stockinged and gartered thighs, and her green bush waving like seaweed.

She finally came to her senses, and screamed, “Don’t just stand there grinning! GET ME OUT OF HERE!”

A dozen eager volunteers jumped to pull her from her lime-colored bath.

Primrose now stood dazed and burping in only her soaked hose and garter belt. Her spluttering face was flecked with green foam and the silly crown askew gave her not the dignified look of a matriarch, but rather the visage of an Gorean silk girl, sprayed with an extraterrestrial’s aquamarine essence.

Slowly, she lifted the crown from her eyes and looked down.

Primrose eyes widened to see her heaving bare breasts were no longer a rosy pink, but now were a faint beryl hue, stained by the dyed beer. Further down, below her sexy belly pressing deliciously against the garter belt, she saw her subtle auburn panty hamster was now a bushy bright verdigris Vee.

Horrified, she realized what must have happened and shrieked even louder as she pulled the soaking ropes that formerly comprised her blonde coiffure fit for a queen, before her eyes and saw her treasured tresses were now bright green as well. Primrose screamed so loudly the pint began to crack.

Sobbing, she climbed down from the float, giving everyone a great parting shot of the frog hair between her trembling green thighs, and heard a drunk slurring, “Bravo! Those d****s now match that carpet!”

With an “EEEK,” she quickly clamped her wet legs together with a delightful smack, thrust one hand across her now-mossy mound, and threw her other arm across her chest, marvelously squeezing her green melons.

Trying to make herself small, Prim foolishly stooped forward. Her broad booty pressed outward quivering, as she awkwardly shifted from foot to foot, oscillating her plump moist globes, looking at the amused onlookers, not sure what to do next.

Highlighted by the green foam dripping from her face, Primrose blushed green-purple like a ripe avocado as her lower lip trembled with trepidation.

With the flash from a camera, Primrose snapped back for a moment to regain her composure despite the multiple indignities she was experiencing.

“I look like a fu**ing MARTIAN!!” she screamed.

“Someone cover me this instant!”

Just then Annie walked up pulling her cart.

“Allow me, my dear Primmy!” she quipped with a wink and a smile. She took from her wagon of Gaeilge giveaways and offered the drenched and denuded Dubois, a small bouquet of flowering primroses.

“Your namesake holds a unique place among Ireland’s native flowers and in the country’s folktales. It was considered a talisman for safety and protection.” “Let’s see how it works hiding your dyed hoochie.”

Primrose scowled and sn*tched the small plant against her permed pussy, now resembling a green tribble. In doing so, she pushed her magnificent mammaries right out like lush green hillocks, capped with scrumptious hardening lime nipples.

“Let’s see to these, shall we?” Annie continued, pulling Prim’s free arm back, then securing it behind her with her ruined bra.

As Primrose stared at her outthrust boobies cross-eyed in astonishment and shook her head in denial, Annie carefully fastened two small shamrock appliqués atop each of Prim’s pointed trembling teats.

“No Annie, don’t be such a naughty bitc*, this is not what I meant…. Listen, please, give me your jacket.”

Annie smiled and shook her head.

“STOP IT ANNIE, I demand you give me your jacket right now!”

When Annie continued coyly, Primrose roared, “THAT’S AN ORDER… ARRGgggHHHh.”

Annie cut her boss’s rant short, “You are NOT in the position to be giving orders.”

She produced and pushed a large green bar of Irish Spring soap between Prim’s pursed lips.

“A bit manly, but I like it too, so they say.”

Primrose could only gurgle her outrage as Annie spun her around and pushed her over to access her lush bottom. Primrose’s eyes nearly popped from her head when Annie thrust a large, stale, slice of Irish soda bread between the cheeks of her plump rounded tushy.

Primrose grunted at the uncomfortable abrasive intrusion.

“Alright, lassie, you are all covered as you demanded. Now get going, you've got a parade to win!” And with that, Annie drew back and delivered a resounding smack to the glistening green right glute of Primrose’s bulging buttocks.

Primrose, with muffled squeals of shame, hopped down the street as Annie ordered, now sporting a green-purple handprint that glowed on her fat ass.

She sucked on the green soap and swallowed scads of suds as she clenched the prickly primroses to her pussy with one hand while the other was pinned uselessly to her back.

Her heavenly breasts bounced in time to the blossoms as she scampered along pigeon-toed, slipping on the soapy mess dripping down her chest to the road, causing her to pitch forward flashing her green-tufted nether lips, then back, her orbs oscillating skyward, repeatedly.

With her teats topped by the silly shamrock stickers and her ruined mop of clownish bright green hair plastered to her head, Primrose looked utterly foolish, yet as one scout observed, “She’s kinda hot!”

As she slowly shimmied by the hundreds of spectators lining the streets, they all clapped, cheered, and raised their glasses to see Prim’s delectable derrière divided by the big piece of Irish toast, chafing the tender area between her cheeks. The crusty bread slice bobbed with the roll of Prim’s plump derrière as she tried to catch up to Brooke and Edward far ahead.

Needless to say, and after each of the mortified naked executives ran past the judges in the reviewing stand, the Bastermats Chemical Company won the grand prize for best float this year yet again by a huge margin.

As the president along with Annie stepped up to be recognized by the mayor of Puttyville, Mr. B wondered aloud. “How in the world could we have won with a disaster like that, Annie?”

Annie shouted in response, “With the luck of the Irish of Course! Erin go brách!” She and Mr. B exchanged high fives to the crowd's thunderous applause.

The Spy Who Came in From the Cold, Naked, Part 1
 

A bit late...

The Spy Who Came in From the Cold, Naked, Part 1

I recently wrote this commissioned story for the winner of my ENF/EUF reference contest, featured in Primrose had Beginner's Luck, but Regina was Undone. The winner requested the clever plot for this fiction, and I believe we were both pleased with how it developed. The front-runner also graciously allowed me to share it with you all.

“…And if words cannot repay the debt we owe these men (and women), surely with our actions we must strive to keep faith with them and with the vision that led them to battle and to final sacrifice."

Please enjoy Memorial Day.

Cheers, tomb125!


*All characters are over 18 years old*


Daydreaming in the Boardroom



On a dreary fall morning in Puttyville, vice president Primrose Dubois, and other company officers attend a hurriedly prepared board meeting. At the end of a glistening mahogany table, the company president, Ernest Bastermats, rose from his seat.


“I have called you all here today to discuss my family’s concern about our regional rival, the Axis Chemical Company, and their advances into our market share.”


The foreign-owned competitor was rumored to be researching a new type of adhesive, and recently released a press statement indicating Axis would soon launch the product.


Ernest continued, “Ladies and gentlemen, we need to step up our efforts in all areas; Operations, Marketing, and Finance,” with a nod respectively to each functional area V.P. seated around the room. First to Primrose of Operations and Training, then to Finance and Edward French, and finally to Brooke Broadsheets, of Marketing.


“It is of paramount importance, that we as a company, form a united front, and hold the line against…”
As Mr. B droned on, Primrose found herself daydreaming. Currently, she was focused on spy novels and movies. Now, what her company president was talking about fueled her imagination. Her mind floated back to clandestine struggles, many reminiscent of the Cold War.


What she heard was: “Such times are when we need more than one (Third) Man” and “Today, we must not be (The) Quiet American(s)! We will press on to remote locations, to follow the (Icarus) Agenda to discover our real (Bourne) Identity!”


Her espionage-obsessed mind drifted first to an iconic European train station, like Keleti Pályaudva, in Budapest. Next, to post-war Vienna, the Riesenrad, followed by the nuclear submarine USS Tigerfish’s conning tower penetrating the polar pack near Ice Station Zebra, then a French steam locomotive puffing across the Perfume River, followed by the sultan of Oman, and finally to a jackal. These were all classic spy images and romantic Film Noir settings Primrose was so familiar with.


On she dreamed, recalling her classic spy thrillers. She imagined using covert methods to develop an informer at Axis. She would then arrange for an exchange to secure their rival’s secret glue formula. After such a coup, she could easily finagle Mr. B, take all credit, and get a big bonus. Bastermats Chemicals would be back on top. She then imagined being on top of her hunky flame, Edward, in only a fedora, stockings, and heels. Primrose felt her nipples stiffen and her panties moisten.


“That is correct Ms. Dubois, right… Primrose? Prim?”


Mr. B’s question roused her from her arousing reverie and back to the board room. She nearly bit off the end of the pencil in her mouth and crossed her legs to minimize the warm tingling between them.


“OH! Ahh… Uumm well… yes, sir…, of course…” the flustered and dry-mouthed Primrose babbled in concurrence to the conversation she was not following. An adept manager, Primrose quickly recovered, but regrettably realized she had just agreed to chair a stupid steering committee.



Primrose the Agent Provocateur



Back in her office, Primrose was unsure how to begin. Annie, seeing her boss perplexed, offered her assistance. Primrose waivered, but realizing she needed help with her plot, quickly revealed everything she was planning to her assistant.

She complained, “Oh, Annie…I just don’t know how to develop my contact at Axis.”


Annie thought for a moment then replied with a shout. “I’ve got it! Phishing…, no better yet, Whaling! I remember from our cyber security training. I’ll send out an email advertising a bogus engineering conference to get the traitor on the hook. Then, I’ll arrange for a clandestine correspondence via the classifieds in the Puttyville paper, The Exposé & News Fusion.”


“Miss Dubois, the logo for Axis Chemicals is a red bird, correct?” Annie asked.


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


Three days later, Annie breathlessly brought Prim’s attention to a curious classified advertisement in the paper. Together they determined it to be a type of code.


Primrose immediately identified it as a simple Caesar's cipher she had read about. She quickly showed Annie how to decode the message.


It read: the crimson canary sings for the jay by the waterfront on south street, tomorrow at midnight-meet me alone on south street by the river-bring ten grand in c-notes and don’t be late-no double crosses!


Annie shouted, “We did it! I suggested a tryst down by the docks, and our “whale” took the bait! Okay, here’s what comes next…”


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


Primrose told Annie to pick up her dry cleaning tomorrow and arrange for her to draw $10,000.00 in cash from the company’s discretionary fund, conveniently overseen by her dishy boyfriend Edward French, who wouldn’t raise an objection. She could not believe her plan was coming together so splendidly. Primmy smiled at Annie wickedly.


Annie smiled back and said, with her fingers crossed behind her back, “Primrose, I do hope you can keep this caper under wraps. I cannot imagine your compromised position if you were to be exposed.”

The Spy Who Came in From the Cold, Naked. Part 2
 

The Spy Who Came in From the Cold, Naked. Part 2


Part Two of the contest commission. Please enjoy!

*All characters are over 18 years old*



The Risqué Rendezvous


Prim’s cab came to a stop by the waterfront. The driver helped Primrose from the car, holding her door. With practiced grace, she took his hand and swiveled her hips to smoothly exit. A pair of shapely silk-clad gams emerged in the cool night air. As she dipped her head to clear the cab door, she flashed the cabbie a brief glimpse of her stocking tops and bare leg. Her silken thighs whispered, rubbing together as she rose. Primrose silently smiled to see the driver agog, nearly drooling, fumbling to close her door.

She buckled her coat as she thought to herself, “Men… How easy it was to manipulate them with just a little tease.”

Prim imagined with a giggle, “I’m sure I can dazzle my contact at Axis just as easily as this cabbie, and wheedle a little something extra and unpaid for…”

“Ma’am,” the cabbie interrupted, “The meter reads $21.75.”

“Here you are, my man, and keep the change.” Primrose handed him a fifty-dollar bill. “Remember, be back here in thirty minutes, and wait if you must.”

He touched his cap in acknowledgement and watched her cross the wet street, surrounded by mist. Even in her trench coat, Primrose’s curves made a delightful rear view as her stilettos clicked on the pavement. The cabbie departed with a soft-but-sly wolf whistle, as his passenger was obscured in wisps of fog.

Tonight, Primrose imagined herself a sexy spy, and had certainly dressed the part; with a dark Burberry raincoat, silk scarf, fedora, Manolo heels and black, seamed silk stockings. She also wore a sexy ensemble of unmentionables, as she planned to ‘pop’ in on Edward French later tonight. One liaison following another, for an intimate tête-à-tête.

She saw a slight figure smoking and reading a newspaper under the streetlight. The man was wearing a slouch hat, scarf, khaki trench coat, and dark trousers.

Primrose approached and looked at her watch. She was right on time.

“Does ‘Canary’ still want to sing for ‘Jay’ on the waterfront tonight?” Primrose asked, avoiding eye contact.

After a pause, the man put out the cigarette and answered, “Yes, the Canary will sing if all Jay’s C-notes add up.”

“Aha!” Primrose exclaimed, stepping back, and staring at Canary. The man had a curious tenor voice, at odds with his pencil-thin mustache, pointed beard, and dark glasses.

“Do you have the money?” he asked, regarding her cautiously.

Primrose produced a fat security envelope and countered, “Yes, and you have the formula for the adhesive?”

“Microfilm,” he said with a raised eyebrow, as he took a small package from his satchel. It was open on one end and she could see the tiny inside.

“Of course,” she said, “Now hand me the microfilm first.”

“Not quite!” Canary protested.

There was a short stalemate where each clutched their parcels and hesitated.

“Let’s do this,” Prim suggested. “You put yours on the window ledge behind you, and I will put mine on this bench. We then return to the streetlight, shake hands, and then we retrieve our respective packages.”

“Very clever..., You must be a pretty good spy,” Canary declared. “Right, here we go, but no funny business!”

They simultaneously positioned their packages, returned, shook hands, and hurried to secure their packets. As they both examined the contents of their parcels, they slowly drifted back together under the light pole.

The Canary opened Prim’s envelope and counted the money with the speed of a cashier, quietly tallying to himself as Prim held the film to the light and examined it for authenticity.

Satisfied, Primrose touched her finger to her hat in a parting salute, and said, “It has been a pleasure doing business with you.”

“Wait!” Canary chirped. “You are three-hundred dollars short!” He sn*tched the microfilm back from Primrose and shoved it in his pocket.

“Canary, you cannot be serious. What is a mere $300.00 compared to TEN GRAND?”

He replied stone faced, “A deal is a deal! You still owe me three C-notes.”

Prim checked her purse but found no money left. She winced with regret at having overtipped her cabbie just a few minutes earlier.

“Alright, I’ll write you a check,” she announced.

“Are you kidding?” he whispered. He crossed his arms and said, “I am not about to accept a check from you. The deal is off. I am going to keep these five bills for my inconvenience.” He removed $500.00 and tried to hand the balance back, but Primrose objected with a splutter.

“Let’s not be too hasty, please…, I uh..., I really need this deal to go down, Canary. You see, I’m, umm, well this bird is a bit out on a limb here, so to speak.”

Canary paused, sensing his advantage, and countered, “What do you have…, for trade, to settle the score?”

“Well, let me see, uh…” Prim muttered nervously as she opened her coat to rifle through the interior pockets, revealing her closely tailored grey suit jacket with its matching pencil skirt.

Primrose found nothing in her pockets, and flashed Canary a nervous smile. “I uuhhmm... I didn’t realize I would be forfeiting my personal belongings tonight...to pay the balance so to speak.”

As the befuddled Primrose stalled for time, the canary said, “Let’s start with these pearls,” as he hooked a finger in the rope around Primrose’s neck.

“Unhand the strand, you masher! You are NOT getting my pearl necklace!” she snapped.

“Then what else are you offering, Jay?” Canary demanded
Prim held up her purse and smiled sheepishly.

“Nice try. Go on!”

“Ok, well what about this?” Primrose asked, handing over her watch. “It’s a Cartier.”

Canary regarded it closely and responded, “This is a fake, but a very good one. I’ll credit you $100.00 for this watch.”

The flustered Primrose breathed a sigh of relief to realize she was moving her debt in the right direction.

“What say you for this bracelet?” Primrose asked.

“Only $50.00.” Canary said.

“You have got to be kidding. It is a genuine Tiffany!”

“I stand firm, those are all over the resale market today. Besides, my lady friend has more subtle taste and would not wear something like that.”

“Huff,” Prim muttered, handing over the jewelry. “I don’t suppose you want anything else?”

Canary said, “As a matter of fact, I do. I’ll spot you $25.00 for those earrings.”

“Ok, here...” Primrose said as she unfastened and handed them over. “You just take them then, and I will consider my debt paid.”

Canary regarded her without emotion.

“Aren’t we close enough? I’m over half way...”

Canary chided, “You still owe me money, and you are going to pay”

“Okay, okay, you sound like some pool hustler I saw in a movie.” Primrose asked, “$125.00 is it?”

Canary nodded.

Prim continued, opening her trench coat. “How much for my coat? It is a Burberry and surely worth the remaining balance!”

He parried, “It is a very used Burberry, and I will only give you $50.00 for it.”

“What will you give me for…,” she stammered, fingering her expensive skirt. “Please work with me here and help a girl out.”

Canary shrugged without a reply.

“How about this Gucci suit jacket?”

Canary did not immediately respond, so Prim added, “I’ll throw in the scarf!”

Canary held up two fingers and stuffed the jacket and scarf into his satchel and said, “What’s next?”

“Next? What do you mean next?” Primrose stammered as she began to redden. “We’re good now, aren't we?”

“Oh no we are not. Your bill is still $105.00.” Canary answered firmly.

“I don’t have anything left to give you. I mean... Otherwise, I would likely be left only in my lingerie and that would be most inappropriate… and very uncomfortable for me.”

How about the hat then? He asked, feeling the brim.

Understanding her unpreventable upcoming uncovering, Prim protested, “Not happening, I need this hat to maintain my…. well, if not my dignity, then certainly my anonymity.”

Primrose did some quick addition in her head and arrived on a clever plan. “Let’s try something different,” she said with a forced smile as she opened her coat like a flasher. “Do you see anything you like?”

He said, “I rather like that blouse; I will give you $25.00 for it.”

“Really? For my blouse? Oh, well, I’ll be out of here soon enough.” Prim thought as she unfastened the round buttons and peeled the shirt from her shoulders, revealing her full breasts barely concealed by a delectably sheer black demi-bra. With a mouthwatering wobble of her creamy mounds, she removed her shirt with dexterity while still covered by her overcoat.

“Will you hurry up! I haven’t got all night, JAY!” He rushed her, despite grinning at her near toplessness.

Primrose spat, “Well, it’s just that, well... we’re out here in the street, and umm... a car could come by… and it’s a bit awkward stripping off in public TO SAY THE LEAST!”

“I’ll remind you this was ALL your idea, Jay.”

“Yeah, well, I would not have chosen such a public place if I knew I would be FORFEITING my clothes!” said the blushing Primrose.

“You are the one who showed up short, now come on with it. We are at $80.00 and you’re still very much in the... umm... RED.” he said with a chuckle, looking at her frowning flushed face.

Primrose pleaded, “$80.00, really! Is it only eighty dollars?”

Canary admonished her, “This is simply business and don’t you pride yourself on being a professional business woman?”

“Of course, yes, of course. But what type of professional business woman is undressing on a street corner by the docks?”

Canary retorted, “I risked everything stealing these company secrets. Your risqué review here hardly compares.”

“Very funny!” Primrose sneered, as she flashed another fake smile. “Maybe you could cut the microfilm, and retain, say three quarters. I could then pay for the rest later?”

“Ha HA! Very thoughtful, but no dice!”

Primrose stamped her heel in frustration, her hands hugging her chilly upper arms pushing her spectacular tits up and out from her open coat. Canary noticed her nipples printing spectacularly against her see-thru brassiere and smiled.

Prim gasped to see him gawking and hauled her coat closed around her body. “What do you suggest then?” she hissed.

“Well, how about $30.00 for your skirt?”

Primrose blinked with a red face as she thought to herself, “Okay, I AM wearing underwear tonight, and I do have my coat... Still, I could be flirting with disaster...” as she fingered the full vent in the back of her raincoat. “My stocking tops will be visible.” Primrose steeled herself and turned her back to him, “I guess I could part with it.”

Primrose slowly lowered the zipper of the tight skirt, and shimmied her plump buns and full hips from the garment. Her jacket slipped from her shoulders, falling to her elbows, and revealing her reveal. First to peek out was the top of Prim’s black garter belt, snuggly fastened about the top of her hips, indenting her flesh so slightly. Next, below a pair of scrumptious dimples where her glutes began, was the low waistband of a tiny sheer black pair of hipster bikini panties. These shook in the street light, struggling to cover her ample ass, now trembling, along with her tatas, tottering with her efforts. As Prim tugged the tight skirt down, it caught her knickers and they rolled right off her hips.

“No Oh, no, No NO, EEEP!” she protested as her plump ass was fully-exposed and nearly half her pruned brunette shrubbery emerged. Her rock-hard nipples escaped her bra with a near-audible “SPROING,” as she stooped to grab her lowered panties, now dragged atop her taut garters gripping her stockings. She tried to pull her panties up, to quickly restore her modesty, but sadly they were rolled into a tangle. Canary laughed out loud at the humorous sight, as Primrose tried to re-cover her brunette landing strip and her big bottom and its heavenly cleft with the tiny garment. Primrose whimpered in frustration, turning in circles, as she glared to see him watching intently.

“I like your choice of lingerie.” he said, licking his lips.

Primrose pleaded, “Could you please STOP LEERING AT ME???”

“I could, but it’s all part of the transaction. Besides, I’m not surprised to know you’re a fake blonde after all!” he laughed.

She scowled in response, finally managing to realign her panties to cover her naughty bits, but only just barely. As she worked to pull her coat back on, he leaned in and groped her.

“You don’t have any cash stashed in there, do you?” he snarked, feeling her firm, plump breast, escaped from her flimsy brassiere.

“MEEEP” Prim squealed as her tweaked nipple hardened even further in the cool night air. “My B... b... boobie! How dare you, sir? Only a street walker would stash cash in there!”

“Well, you ARE walking the streets tonight, so to speak! Well, how about down here?” Canary deftly hooked his delicate finger into the thin waistband of Prim’s panties, and began to haul them off her loins.

GARRRHhh… Prim cried as she quickly arrested tonight’s second panty lowering by clutching her undie’s front panel and holding it fast against her muff. “Just WHAT are you doing, SIR?”

“I AM TRYING TO GET PAID! Do I need to remind you again? $20.00 for your bra!” as he released her knicks and deftly unfastened and removed her front-loading brasserie.

Whaah? How am I supposed to… I need the support, otherwise I’ll be bouncing… out here... like some kind of wanton stripper!” Prim protested as her lower lip trembled and her perfectly formed melons quivered completely unfettered, each capped by a pair of tightened pink teats reaching for the murky skies above.

“You’ll manage just fine, dearie...” Canary declared as he shoved her delicate, still-warm, hooter hammock into his satchel, now bulging with nearly all Primrose’s wardrobe.

Primrose regarded the grinning Canary, then down to see all her clothes stuffed in his bag instead of on her body, and squealed in protest, “$30.00 more? ...”

“Correct, thirty dollars. I take $30.00 for your panties.”

WHATT?? You have got to be kidding!

They match the bra, and I could sell them all together

“Oh, I’m not sure... Are you sure you are the real Canary? I… this is really, sooo... so embarrassing!”

“Chop, chop! I must get going soon.”

Primrose slowly tugged the tiny sides of her bikini panties down. She first revealed the top of her nether fur, then she spun around to show her scanty undies rolled halfway down off her robust, yet most round derrière. As she awkwardly stooped over and carefully plucked her knickers from her heels, Canary decided to test out a rude thought. With an audible “plunk,” a shiny 10¢ piece snapped hard against Primrose's ass, leaving a red welt, and then tinkled to the pavement below, before rolling into the storm drain.

“OUCH!” Primmy squealed, rubbing her offended bare backside. “What the heck was that?”

“I just wondered if I could really bounce a dime off that… I mean your tight ass... Uhh and well, I guess I have proven my theory...”

“HOW DARE YOU, SIR?!”

“I apologize, Jay. That WAS a bit rude.”

“Yuh think?” Primrose added, blinking in fury as she handed over her panties. Despite her anger, she realized her undies were rather moist in her hand and the embarrassing shock of her arousal immediately disarmed her.

She stammered, “I, c, can, cannot, say, why, I mean… with all this dampness tonight…, it is all from the fog…out here, it's not at all like I ENJOY being naked in public…YOU KNOW!”

He took a moment to examine her delicate unmentionable and held the fine garment to his nose, while he inhaled deeply.

“Ah...yes... still as fresh as a daisy...err... I mean a primrose...” He corrected, watching the flower’s namesake glowering at him, her face the color of an aubergine. Prim tried to hide her plump hooters and her non-blonde sn*tch from his gaze, and stared as he tucked her moist panties into his coat pocket and handed over the envelope with the microfilm inside.

“Paid in full. Here you are, Jay.” Canary announced.

Primrose, still blushing hotly as she nervously released her big hooters to freely sway as she took the microfilm. Primrose smirked with a sneer at Canary, as she clapped the envelope across her wriggling panty hamster.

With an “OHHhh…oooh,” she threw her raincoat around her naked body. Primrose quipped; “I DO HOPE YOU HAVE HAD YOUR JOLLIES TONIGHT, ALL AT MY EXPENSE...AND UTMOST MORTIFICATION!” Her voice dripped with sarcasm.

She spun on her heel and turned to move toward her cab that she just noticed arrived.

Canary halted her in her tracks, as her marvelous denuded glutes, peeking from the vent in her coat, clenched with her arrested halt.

“Jay, I have another secret to sell…that is… if you are interested…, but it will set you back another $500.00.”

“Whoa,” Primrose stammered, stunned. “How can I do that? I have nothing left to offer besides my cab fare!” she protested.

“Well… There is still your coat...”

She cut him off and nearly screamed, “YOU ALREADY SAID this coat was only worth $50.00!”

“Not so fast, my maroon-faced mark, stunningly standing here nearly starkers.”

“MARK? What do you mean? Are you saying I have been ‘played’?” “YOU PLAYED ME?”

The canary continued with a wink and a sly smile, “Your coat..., and some PICTURES!”

“PICTURES??” Primrose screeched with alarm.

With an evil grin, Canary produced a tiny spy camera, equipped with a flash.

“If I trade my coat, I’ll be…naked!”

“Yes, indeed you will. But you better hurry and decide because I need to leave very soon.”

“YOU MONSTER!! You knew I was in over my head from the beginning! You took advantage of... of me… a silly girl... obsessed with spy novels…, who is about to be nude in front of you!

“SHHH,” he interrupted, putting an oddly slender and manicured finger to her objecting lips. “Again, I remind you whose brainchild this catastrophe was in the first place.

You cannot possibly be serious?”

Canary nodded emphatically.

“You CAD! “Oh, very well! You win! OHHHH OMG it’s freezing!” as she slowly removed her coat and handed it over.

Primrose clamped her palms against her tightened teats, crossed her legs, and wrinkled her nose in disgust, as Canary focused his camera.

The Spy Who Came in From the Cold, Naked. Fin
 

The Spy Who Came in From the Cold, Naked. Fin


*All characters are over 18 years old*




A Discomfiting Dénouement



After a full five-minutes performing for the lens in flagrante, complete with dozens of shots of better-than-amateur nudie pole work, against the very chilly street lamp, Canary shuttered his camera and put it away.

“Bravo, and well done! I must say…” With a broad smile he regarded his destitute and denuded dupe, now sheened with sweat and squatting breathless on her hams with one arm squashed across her boobs, and the other thrust into her fluffy auburn crotch, clamped against her pulsating womanhood.

“Now that you are indeed as naked as a Jay, it is I, who must bid you, adieu.” Canary handed her a small cardboard tube containing the additional secrets, picked up his satchel with all Prim’s clothes and turned to leave.

“WAIT… please, I uh. I forgot; My cab fare is still in my coat…” as she saw the lights of her hack waiting across the foggy street. “I have no way home.”

“No, I guess you don’t,” he said.

“Tell you what... Since I’ll be taking your cab, I won't be needing this bus transfer anymore. You can have it.” He chuckled as he held up the thin strip of paper. She clutched the tube against her mammaries with one hand, and with the other still grasping her hot muffin and the microfilm. Primrose awkwardly approached knock-kneed on her ridiculous high heels, her naked form still glistening with perspiration. She was careful to not flash him when she took the proffered pass. As if handing a crust to a bird, he placed the transfer between her trembling ruby lips, matching her flaming cheeks, while she watched in disbelief, her eyes comically crossed.

“The bus stop is right over there at the next light. You have about one minute till it arrives.”

She looked despondent as she nervously shifted her weight from foot to foot, heels clicking, as she held the envelope against her twitching muff and the tube mashed against her protruding breasts while the stand of chilly pearls danced about her sweat-sheened mounds. Despondently she discovered, she couldn’t cover everything and hold on to her dearly bought gains.

In her mind’s eye, she could see how foolish she looked. Shaking and squirming, with the bus transfer in her mouth, her silken thighs rubbing audibly together and the garter belt cinched tight around her narrow waist. The sturdy tabs of which tugged firmly on her stocking tops fore and aft, and splendidly framed her mons of Venus and her undulating bare ass cheeks. Oddly, she felt more naked than so mortifyingly minimally attired.

She “MEEPED” as she saw him still leering. Primrose spun about, tomato-faced, and said between her teeth, “Youf fertainly guft duh vetter end of thif deel!”

She turned away from Canary to leave.

“And speaking of better ends…” he stated, noticing her jutting ample ass. “Congratulations, you're in the black,” he ordered. “Now SCOOT!” as he delivered a sharp swat to Primrose’s bare buns.

“EEEeeff!” She yelped, as her plump ass cheeks quivered in response to his degrading spank. She could only slowly cross the street toward the bus stop with mincing, pigeon-toed steps. Prim’s bottom rolled deliciously, framed by her snug garter belt stretched across her delicious rump. For a moment, she bared her plump tits to grasp the bus transfer in her fingers but she sadly dropped the microfilm. The reel unrolled on the street and Primrose comically chased after it in her heels.

Knock-kneed, with a marvelous upthrust ass and her dewy nether lips winking for additional pictures, she secured the secrets unrolling, and clutched the tangle against her bronze bush with both hands. With wambas wobbling wonderfully uncovered, she squealed in frustration as Canary took a few more flash photos. She stared back at him with a miserable expression as her bare ass wagged to and fro in the night air.



Naked as a Jay



Trembling, Primrose clutched the small envelope and tube against her still-moist puppies and sn*tch as she clicked across the street in only her hat, garter belt, stockings, and heels. She quickly pulled the hat low across her face when through the mist, she caught sight of two people just ahead at the bus stop. Mustering the shreds remaining of her dignity, she tried to approach them nonchalantly, though absurdly naked.

As Primrose arrived at the stop, she saw a man and a woman, both unclad like she, cowering in shame as they waited for the bus. With a jolt, she suddenly stopped. Directly in front of her, in only their underwear, were her two colleagues, Edward French and Brooke Broadsheets.

Her blushing crush, Edward French, wore only a tiny yellow thong, along with his shoes and socks, gartered around his calves. He crouched and clutched a parcel against his sizable bulge, now beginning to grow, as he watched his girly’s familiar naked form trot from the mist, all a-wobble.

Primrose then stared at Brooke Broadsheets, standing close by but facing the opposite direction from Eddie. The red-faced Brooke was wearing a sheer, baby blue teddy, snug against her svelte curves. Brooke wore a pair of nude-colored hold up stockings and a stylish pair of designer heels, but little else. Primrose, her face still concealed by the brim of her hat, nearly smiled to see her rival, covered in goose pimples, her ruddy nipples hard as garnets, holding a file folder against her bare bum, deliciously divided by a string of blue beads, comprising the strand in her teddy’s G-string back.

From her vantage point, Primrose stared at Edward’s tight buns for a moment, then back at Brooke as she cocked her fedora back.

“Primrose! It’s you! Whatever are you doing here?” Brooke spluttered.

Primrose quickly clamped her hand back on her bits, and regarded Brooke who was not quite so naked as she was. Edward spun around and Primrose lowered her eyes to his growing manhood. Prim fake smiled at Brooke, who queried with a chuckle, “Well we all seem to be out of the frying pan and in the fire, although it seems you have lost ALL of your small clothes.” Primrose scowled at Brooke, her lower lip trembling.

Edward asked, “Primmy, did someone spank your ass?”

Primrose looked over her shoulder to see a small, but very distinct, red handprint on her butt. She then looked up and pouted to see the smiling faces of Brooke and Edward watching her reddened buns quiver.

“I came here tonight to conduct a business transaction, but sadly did not bring enough money.” She sniffled.

“SO DID WE!” They both clamored. “An awful Canary relieved us of our clothes! It was SO HUMILIATING, but WE were allowed to keep our undies!” Brooke managed to giggle.

“Well, yes, I certainly see that…. Whatever are we going to do now?” Prim asked. “We cannot board the bus like this!”


————————————————————————————-


Back at the street light, Canary, disconnected the electronic voice disguiser and peeled off the fake beard and mustache. Canary, aka Annie, laughed in triumph as she ditched the dark glasses, shook out her lovely, real blonde hair from beneath her slouch hat, patted her fat purse and bulging satchel, and hopped into the warm cab Primrose had conveniently arranged earlier.



An Embarrassing Exeunt



Before the near-naked trio could commiserate further, the trolley bus arrived, on its last run of the night. The three undressed executives slowly boarded, only to find the vehicle filled with the departing second shift from the nearby Naked White Bread Bakery.

Both Brooke and Edward hung onto the overhead straps, which limited their ability to cover their bodies while holding their packages.

Primrose, clutching her cunny and her parcels with one hand and holding a single, bare breast with the other, turned in circles, nearly hyperventilating, as her plump bottom cheeks jostled and pressed against the standing-room-only crowd. Two of her senior scouts, working at the bakery, whom she now unhappily recognized, moved apart, and offered her a seat between them. Primrose quickly accepted and plopped her bare buns down on the cold plastic seat. She crossed her legs and clenched her arms atop her boobs with her secrets, and pouted straight ahead, tomato-faced.

Unfortunately, Prim’s scouts took considerable licentious license, as the trolley bus passed under many bridges and through dozens of dark tunnels, which vibrated the line’s catenary, causing the vehicle’s interior lights to frequently flicker out. She squealed and yipped as their roaming hands furtively fingered her naked figure in the darkness, repeatedly.

The bus finally reached the stop at the company carpark. The three exposed executives scampered off, bare buns bouncing, bolting to their respective rides. Primrose, rubbing her pinched and spanked parts, realized only now, she had left her keys in her coat. As she sadly watched Brooke speed away in her sports car, the thong-clad Edward rolled up on his Vespa. He nodded at Primrose. She starred back, with the classic ENF pose, realizing he was the only port in her mortifying storm. She slowly swung a stockinged led across the scooter’s rear saddle and sank her still-warm womanhood against the chilly leather. She bit her lip in shock as her lovely ass was deliciously parted by the narrow scooter seat. Prim gasped at the shameful sight she now presented, and gripped Edward around his naked torso. He sped off through the darkness, delighted to feel Primrose’s full breasts pressed warmly against his bare back, topped with her throbbing nipples. Prim dropped one arm a bit lower and secured his rock-hard member. Both of their red-hot faces broke into a smile, despite their dis-dressed situation.



Epilogue



First thing the next morning, the three shamed execs had to secretly reimburse their company when they discovered each of the trade secrets, they purchased so dearly with their dignity, turned out to be clever fakes, completely worthless.

In Primrose’s office, Annie brought her boss both the paper and her coffee.

The Exposé & News Fusion, reported a fire destroyed the Axis Chemical Company skunkworks and with it, all work on their new product line. Their progress on the new adhesive would be delayed indefinitely. Reading through the article about Axis, Primrose understood her complete humiliation was for naught, and she was out ten grand. She held the pages, trembling with rage, and silently cursed herself for being so foolish.

Annie, seeing her boss upset, piped up, “Ms. Primrose, this will make you laugh.”

Anne turned the paper over to the back page where the publishers always placed the comics and a humorous photo.

There, in black and white, beneath the caption: "Where is this denuded trio hiding their bus fare? " was a picture of Edward, Brooke, and Primrose clambering aboard without their clothes. Shot from the street, their faces were mercifully obscured, but their butts, completely bare, were prominently depicted.

“Isn’t it funny?” Annie asked.

Primrose could only gasp as she hastily put her saucer over the picture. Crimson-faced, she replied tersely with a smirk, “HYSTERICAL!”

Primrose shortly composed herself and rang Edward to ask him to join her for lunch. On her way to meet Eddie, Primrose noticed a commotion outside the employee cafeteria, around the company bulletin board. Curious, she approached the crowd and peered in to see what was so interesting.

On the board were tacked several 8 x10 glossies of Primrose Dubois, in what could only be described as, the most compromising of poses. The company Veep was pictured performing a pole dance with a street lamp, in only her hat, heels, silk stockings, and garter belt.

With a shriek of embarrassed disbelief, Primrose sn*tched them from the board and ran to the ladies’ washroom, where everyone heard her bawling. Annie smiled at the crowd, and with a knowing wink, went inside after her ridiculously ruined superior.

Catastrophic Calamities at the County Fair, Part 1
 

Catastrophic Calamities at the County Fair, Part 1


*All characters are over 18 years old*

Credits to Ray Bradbury



Part 1, Arrival at the Fair


The sun shone brightly on a beautiful August day, as the school bus turned off the main road and proceeded down the rather bumpy gravel track leading to the parking lot of the country fairgrounds. The bus was filled with students from Puttyville’s Ivy Industrial Institute on their way to the Annual County Fair. Excitement about the field trip buzzed through the bus as everyone finished their sack lunches. Despite all the bus’s windows being rolled down, it was quite warm aboard the vehicle.


Right up front, fanning herself with the fair program, sat Regina Dubois, the school’s Provost, and Dean of Students, growing more uncomfortable by the minute. Fully six feet and two inches in her heels, statuesque was an understatement when describing Regina. Her height and shapely legs made her full bosom and broad hips seem more proportional than a straining 39-inch tape measure might indicate.


With a haughty “Hrrrumph!” she brushed a fiery lock of her red hair from her flushed face, sheened with droplets of perspiration. Today she planned to be far away from this banal annual tradition, but that was before the silly Miss Dilby fell and sprained her ankle. Only this morning, after she was dressed and heading for the art museum, had the crotchety Ms. Cordelia Cockfoster, president of the Institute, rang and re-routed Regina, to be relegated to a school field trip chaperone.


While the students chatted with bubbly excitement, Regina superciliously stewed about having to babysit a group of boisterous students running about at a ‘rinky-dink’ carnival. She was furious at Cordelia.


“Really?” Regina thought bitterly to herself. “The Dean of Students demoted to serve as a child minder?” “How could the Cockfoster be so cruel?” She hated riding on the filthy bus, lacking air conditioning. She was also disgusted by the provided cafeteria food smelling up the vehicle. She fanned her face faster as she was completely overdressed and already hot and very bothered.


She continued complaining, “Of all days for this to occur!” Regina was supposed to be attending a spectacular unveiling at the art gallery today and was completely crestfallen when Cordelia called and asked her to cover for a lowly teaching assistant injured this morning. She should be sipping sherry and enjoying a canapé right now, while admiring the well-muscled nude male statues chiseled from stone and sizing up the well-heeled males in attendance for comparison. Instead, here she was; bouncing and sweating on a vinyl bus seat, pressed against the moist, full-figured band leader, Ms. Mildred Bushyberry!


Today for the art show, Regina had carefully selected and purchased a special outfit as well as a new ensemble of classic underpinnings. She wore a rich red 1960-era short sleeved sheath dress with a deeply scooped neckline, magnificently showcasing her luscious, curvy breasts, upthrust and well-fettered. Her luxurious red hair was perfectly styled and pinned up in a most elegant fashion. Regina’s toned arms were decorated with a pearl bracelet and a Cartier watch. She also carried a matching leather handbag.


True to form, she carefully selected very special undies for today, but more on those later. Her boned underwear provided a gentle foundation to her chest, waist, and hips, and presented a splendid overall shape. From the rear, her black seamed RHT silk stockings encased her lovely gams from her four-inch scarlet heels, skyward for seemingly miles, until vanishing beneath the daring vent in the back of her tight dress. Instead of full-cut sheer panties, today she had chosen something a bit more daring for the day-a saucy pair that hugged the hips, revealing quite a peek of cheek on the backside, despite her misgivings as to the risk. Even now, as she squirmed a bit, she felt a sexy snuggie as the silk worked its way between the cheeks of her full, rounded bottom. She slyly smiled as she wiggled her ass gently on the seat, so Mildred would not notice.


She looked down while seated and saw to her discomfiture, just below her considerable trembling bare breast-tops, that despite her slip, she could see her garters and their metal clips printing on her dress, across her thighs.


She thought to herself, suddenly very self-conscious, “I just knew this was too snug! People will think I’m wearing a wiggle dress...and it’s sooo hot today!”


With a particularly rough ‘BUMP!’ Regina was jolted back to the present. She realized here she was, sweating and miserable, forced to eat this revolting school lunch to avoid becoming lightheaded and perilously close to being embarrassingly un-in-charge.


Regina frowned and looked askance at Millie chewing a mouthful and asked, “Mildred, how can you eat that disgusting tuna sandwich?”


“It’s not so bad, Reg, they also had ham. I traded with Primrose earlier because tuna salad upsets my stomach. Here, won’t you please try this half of my ham sandwich?”


“Well...okay...” Regina muttered, as she slowly bit into it with a wrinkled nose. She just managed to eat it all up as the bus began to slow. Regina waited, as she watched her bench-seat buddy with disdain, the jigglepotumus Ms. Bushyberry, munching on her cookie. The pair of perspiring faculty professors were both full figured women and filled their seats most snugly. Their silk stocking-sheathed thighs rubbed together while their torsos and sweat-flecked arms occasionally brushed against each other. Regina was disgusted with this travel situation.


The truth be known, to call Bushyberry fat was not correct. While certainly not statuesque, at 66 inches tall and sporting 37-27-37” marks, Millicent was unquestionably Rubenesque. Today she looked striking. Millie wore a special ensemble; a snug and short black sleeveless sheath dress decorated with red side panels. The garment embodied the I3 school colors, as well as coordinated with her band’s uniforms, they would be wearing at the performance today. Her lush head of dark hair was permed into ringlets surrounding her smiling flushed face. She was determined to lead her orchestra to victory in the fair’s ‘Battle of the Bands.’ Beneath her dress, Millie was fully fastened. She sensibly wore a full black slip atop a longline girdle; its garters firmly anchoring her nude, RHT silk stockings. Her girdle was coupled with sturdy control top panties, and a heavy-duty bra that could well-secure her Guns of Navarone-sized boobs!


Millie whistled her band's big number, while Regina unhappily wriggled closer due to the lurching of the bus, grinding to a stop.


-----------


Further back in the bus, sat Primrose and her crush Miles, sadly separated by the aisle. Prim wore a fetching pair of tight white athletic short shorts, coupled with a pink tube top and matching sneakers. Miles, wore a zip-neck polyester shirt, Bermuda shorts, and loafers.


Recently, things had not been completely rosy between the two lovebirds. Prim had been teasing Miles unmercifully with the promise of some fantastic fellatio but she unfalteringly failed to follow through. Even now, as he watched her drinking her soda pop, Primrose caught his eye. She licked the neck of the bottle most suggestively, then darted her pink tongue down its throat. She winked coyly at Miles, and giggled loudly.


This flirting was not lost on a mother who delivered a sharp snap to Miles’s head. She snipped, “Miles, keep your eyes forward.”


“OWIE!” he yelped. Right beside Miles, sat another chaperone and his domineering mother, Alexandra Jameson. She was determined to stifle any hanky-panky on this outing. She wore a sleeveless white denim shirtdress, fastened with brass buttons all up the front, a narrow leather belt, and strappy heeled sandals.


Behind Prim and Miles, were Genevive Jameson and Beth Modiste. They were bickering about the latest cheerleading angst and batting each other with their empty paper lunch sacks. Beth had on a tie-front crop top, tight capri pants and Doc Martins with pink laces. Gen wore a light green jersey top, and hip-hugging cutoffs, coupled with platform slides.


In the back of the bus, sat Al Roper Jr., wearing bib overalls without a shirt, a feed cap, and brogans. Right next to Al was Annie Andreson. She was dressed in an electric blue terry cloth romper suit, sleeveless and legless, as well as a pair of wedged heels. Annie was showing a lot of sun-tanned skin, beautifully complimenting her long blonde hair.


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


The bus rumbled to a stop and the doors opened. Just as everyone stood up to bolt out, Regina rose to her imposing, high heeled-height, and blocked the aisle, effectively arresting everyone’s exit. She towered over the anxious undergraduates as a hush fell over the bus.


Regina barked, “Now listen up, all my students. I well know that when you are unsupervised by your faculty, the entire school erupts into a shameless display of adolescent abandon! Today, I am well supported by a host of chaperones. I expect everyone to behave, represent our school in a most favorable light, and practice the very picture of protocol, decency, and decorum. There are to be no public displays of affection and absolutely NO ribald behavior. Violators will be given demerits and returned to wait with the bus in this hot parking lot. "AM I BEING CLEAR?” A pregnant pause ensued as Regina’s chin rose in approval to see her chaperone, Alexandra Jameson, sitting very straight and nodding in agreement, while looking very sternly at Miles and Primrose.


"Yes ma'am!," the students responded loudly.


Regina continued, “Now, we will orderly and quietly exi...”


“BRRRIIINNNGG!” Just then, the rear emergency escape door burst open, and the alarm bell sounded, drowning out Regina. Her eyes flashed with fury to be so interrupted. She saw Al and Annie jump out the back before she finished her instructions. This sudden exit triggered the rest of the students who all stood and bolted past Regina with such a start, the dean was knocked back on her duff, right atop Millie who shrieked with surprise. Regina’s legs flew up as her skirt drooped, exposing her gartered stocking tops, as well as a bright red panty peek to the flood of outrushing students. Mildred’s dress also rode up and her girdle gripping her plump thighs was prominently displayed.


Once the bus was empty; the tangled twosome managed to sit upright. Millie helped Regina back into her seat and the ladies tugged their dresses back into place. Embarrassed, the two looked away from each other as they then stood up at the same time, comically colliding with each other.


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


Shaking her head in disgust, Regina exited the bus followed by Millie Bushyberry. Right at the bottom of the bus door steps, waited Ms. Cordelia Cockfoster and Mr. Ernest Bastermats, whose family chemical company was sponsoring the fun fair this year. Cordelia fumed and stared daggers as she shook Regina’s and Millie’s hands.


She said icily, “Ladies, I see you managed to get the students here in one piece, albeit not without a lapse of discipline and more or less a Moriarty upskirt upon arrival!”


Regina blustered, “It was that miscreant Al Roper and his girl Annie! They ruined my cautionary address and ....”


“Reg,” Cordelia countered, “You cannot continuously blame the kids for your shortcomings. You must get control of yourself...and your clothing...and behave like a proper provost of our beloved Institute!”


“B...B... But I was...” Ernest cut off the protesting Regina, and declared, “I think everyone made it just fine and we should go in and enjoy the carnival! Ladies, right this way. There is someone I want you to meet.”


The foursome moved to the ticketing area and entrance to the fair. After Ernest gave everyone a ticket, each of the adult fairgoers moved through the rusty, old-fashioned, iron turnstile, operated by a rather crusty carny and a clown. While all the kids clicked through with speed, the process slowed as the more mature and comelier customers’ approached.


The carny said, “A lady always waits for her gentleman to hold the gate for her... Please, ma’am, one at a time.”


Regina smirked to see Bushyberry squeeze through the turnstile. It was tight fit and only with considerable pressure was Millie able to get through. As the clown approached, the carny pushed on her plump ass cheeks with both hands, getting a most good grip before guiding the aghast Millie in.


“Why was it turning so slowly?” Regina wondered. Then it was her turn. The carny gave her butt a firm pat as she moved through the turning bars. She gasped in alarm and felt the bars lock up before she could pass through. The clown pretended to assist, but only managed to feel Regina up as she squealed in protest. The horny harlequin got quite a handful of her hooters before Ernest interceded and helped Regina out of the barrier. Regina flushed and flashed her eyes angrily at the clown and carny as more than a few chuckles sounded from watching fairgoers.


Once in the fairgrounds proper, both man-handled matrons looked back at the entrance with incredulity as they both patted their dresses, their hands moving all about their recently groped goodies with disbelief as to what had just happened.


The sunny fairgrounds were divided into various sections. Immediately across from the entrance was the Midway with a plethora of amusements. Then followed the rides section, food fair, and finally the bandshell and animal exhibits.

Something Shameful Surely Will Ensue
 

Something Shameful Surely Will Ensue


*All characters are over 18 years old*

Credit to Ray Bradbury


A Bus Load of Bouncing Beauties



The sun shone brightly on a beautifully warm October day, as the school bus turned off the main road and proceeded down the rather bumpy gravel track leading to the parking lot of the country fairgrounds. The bus was filled with students from Puttyville’s Ivy Industrial Institute on their way to the Annual County Fair. Excitement about the field trip buzzed through the bus as everyone finished their sack lunches. Despite all the bus’s windows being rolled down, it was quite warm aboard the vehicle.


Right up front, fanning herself with the fair program, sat Regina Dubois, the school’s Provost, and Dean of Students, growing more uncomfortable by the minute. Fully six feet and two inches in her towering heels, statuesque was an understatement when describing Regina. Her height and shapely legs made her full bosom and broad hips seem more proportional than a straining 39-inch tape measure might indicate.


With a haughty “Hrrrumph!” she brushed a fiery lock of her red hair from her flushed face, sheened with droplets of perspiration. Today she planned to be far away from this banal annual tradition, but that was before the silly Miss Dilby fell and sprained her ankle. Only this morning, after she was dressed and heading for the art museum, had the crotchety Ms. Cordelia Cockfoster, president of the Institute, rang and re-routed Regina, to be relegated to a school field trip chaperone.


While the students chatted with bubbly excitement, Regina superciliously stewed about having to babysit a group of boisterous students running about at a ‘rinky-dink’ carnival. This year’s was very different, held in the autumn, after the school year had started, most curious. Reg was furious at Cordelia.


“Really?” Regina thought bitterly to herself. “The Dean of Students demoted to serve as a child minder?” “How could the Cockfoster be so cruel?” She hated riding on the filthy bus, lacking air conditioning. She was also disgusted by the provided cafeteria food smelling up the vehicle. She fanned her face faster as she was completely overdressed and already hot and very bothered.


She continued complaining, “Of all days for this to occur!” Regina was supposed to be attending a spectacular unveiling at the art gallery today and was completely crestfallen when Cordelia called and asked her to cover for a lowly teaching assistant injured this morning. She should be sipping sherry and enjoying a canapé right now, while admiring the well-muscled nude male statues chiseled from stone and sizing up the well-heeled males in attendance for comparison. Instead, here she was; bouncing and sweating up a vinyl bus seat, pressed against the moist, full-figured band leader, Ms. Mildred Bushyberry!


“What a cow!” Regina thought to herself.


Today for the art show, Regina had carefully selected and purchased a special outfit as well as a new ensemble of classic underpinnings. She wore a rich red 1960-era short sleeved sheath dress with a deeply scooped neckline, magnificently showcasing her luscious, curvy breasts, upthrust and well-fettered. Her luxurious red hair was perfectly styled and pinned up in a most elegant fashion. Regina’s toned arms were decorated with a pearl bracelet and a Cartier watch. She also carried a matching leather handbag.


True to form, she carefully selected very special undies for today, but more on those later. Her boned underwear provided a gentle foundation to her chest, waist, and hips, and presented a splendid overall shape. From the rear, her black seamed RHT silk stockings encased her lovely gams from her four-inch scarlet heels, skyward for seemingly miles, until vanishing beneath the daring vent in the back of her tight dress. Instead of full-cut sheer panties, today she had chosen something a bit more daring for the day-a saucy pair that hugged the hips, revealing quite a peek of cheek on the backside, despite her misgivings as to the risk. Even now, as she squirmed a bit, she felt a sexy snuggie as the silk worked its way between the cheeks of her full, rounded bottom. She slyly smiled as she wiggled her ass gently on the seat, careful that Mildred would not notice.


She looked down while seated and saw to her discomfiture, just below her considerable trembling bare breast-tops, that despite her slip, she could see her garters and their metal clips printing against her dress, across her thighs.


She thought to herself, suddenly very self-conscious, “I just knew this was too snug! People will think I’m wearing a wiggle dress...and it’s sooo hot today!”


With a particularly rough ‘BUMP!’ Regina was jolted back to the present. She realized here she was, sweating and miserable, forced to eat this revolting school lunch to avoid becoming lightheaded and perilously close to being embarrassingly un-in-charge.



Regina frowned and looked askance at Millie chewing a mouthful and asked, “Mildred, how can you eat that disgusting tuna sandwich?”


“It’s not so bad, Reg, and this one is ham. I traded with Primrose earlier because tuna salad upsets my stomach. Here, won’t you please try this half of her sandwich?”


“Well...okay...” Regina muttered, as she slowly bit into it with a wrinkled nose. She just managed to eat it all up as the bus began to slow. Regina waited, as she watched her bench-seat buddy with disdain, the jigglepotumus Ms. Bushyberry, munching on her cookie. The pair of perspiring faculty professors were both full figured women and filled their seats most snugly. Their silk stocking-sheathed thighs rubbed together while their torsos and sweat-flecked arms occasionally brushed against each other. This travel situ was unbearable!


The truth be known, to call Bushyberry fat was not correct. While certainly not statuesque, at 66 inches tall and sporting 37-27-37” marks, Millicent was unquestionably Rubenesque. Today she looked striking. Millie wore a special ensemble; a snug and short black sleeveless sheath dress decorated with red side panels. The garment embodied the I3 school colors, as well as coordinated with her band’s uniforms, they would be wearing at the performance today. Her lush head of dark hair was permed into ringlets surrounding her smiling flushed face. She was determined to lead her orchestra to victory in the fair’s ‘Battle of the Bands.’ Beneath her dress, Millie was fully fastened. She sensibly wore a full black slip atop a shaper girdle; its garters firmly anchoring her nude, RHT silk stockings. Her girdle was coupled with sturdy control top panties, and a heavy-duty bra that could well-secure her Guns of Navarone-sized boobs!


Millie whistled her band's big number, while Regina unhappily was pushed closer due to the lurching of the bus, until it finally ground to a stop.



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




Further back in the bus, sat Primrose and her crush Miles, sadly separated by the aisle. Prim wore a fetching pair of tight white athletic short shorts, coupled with a pink tube top and matching sneakers. Her blonde hair was pulled in top a ponytail. Miles, wore a zip-neck polyester shirt, Bermuda shorts, and loafers.


Recently, things had not been completely rosy between the two lovebirds. Prim had been teasing Miles unmercifully with the promise of some fantastic fellatio but she unfalteringly failed to follow through. Even now, as he watched her drinking her soda pop, Primrose caught his eye. She licked the neck of the bottle most suggestively, then darted her pink tongue down its throat. She winked coyly at Miles, and giggled loudly.


This flirting was not lost on a mother who delivered a sharp snap to Miles’s head. She snipped, “Miles, keep your eyes forward.”


“OWIE! Mom, take it easy.” he yelped. Right behind Miles, sat his domineering mother, another chaperone, Alexandra Jameson. She was determined to stifle any hanky-panky on this outing. She wore a sleeveless, white linen shirtdress, fastened with brass buttons all up the front, a narrow leather belt, and strappy high-heeled sandals.


Behind Prim and Miles, were Genevieve Jameson and Beth Modiste. They were bickering about the latest cheerleading angst and batting each other with their empty paper lunch sacks. Beth had on a tie-front crop top, tight capri pants and Doc Martins with pink laces. Gen wore a light green jersey top, and hip-hugging cutoffs, coupled with platform slides.


In the back of the bus, sat Al Roper Jr., wearing bib overalls without a shirt, a feed cap, and brogans. Right next to Al was Annie Anderssen. She was dressed in an electric blue terry cloth romper suit, sleeveless and legless, as well as a pair of wedged heels. Annie was showing a lot of sun-tanned skin, beautifully complimenting her long, blonde hair, waving in the fall sun.



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



The bus rumbled to a stop and the doors opened. Just as everyone stood up to bolt out, Regina rose to her imposing, sky-high heeled height, and blocked the aisle, effectively arresting everyone’s exit. She towered over the anxious undergraduates as a hush fell over the bus.


Regina barked, “Now listen up,... YOU, all my STUDENTS! I well know that when you are unsupervised by your faculty, the entire school erupts into a shameless display of adolescent abandon! Today, I am well supported by a host of chaperones. I expect everyone to behave, represent our school in a most favorable light, and practice the very picture of protocol, decency, and decorum. There are to be no public displays of affection and NO ribald behavior. Violators will be given demerits and returned to wait with the bus in this hot parking lot. AM I BEING CLEAR?” A pregnant pause followed as Regina’s chin rose in approval to see her chaperone, Alexandra Jameson, sitting very straight and nodding in agreement, while looking very sternly at Miles and Primrose.


"Yes Ma’am!" the students responded loudly.


Regina continued, “Now, we will orderly and quietly exi...”


“BRRRIIINNNGG!” Just then, the rear emergency escape door burst open, and the alarm bell sounded, drowning out Regina. Her eyes flashed with anger to be so interrupted. She saw Al and Annie jump out the back before she finished her instructions. This sudden exit triggered the rest of the students, who all stood and bolted past Regina with such a start, the dean was knocked back on her duff, right atop Millie who shrieked with surprise. Regina’s legs flew up as her outfit hiked-up, exposing her gartered stocking tops, as well as a bright red panty peek to the flood of outrushing students. Mildred’s dress also flew up and her girdle gripping her plump thighs was prominently displayed.


Once the bus was empty, save for the driver, a mister Fred Scuttle who would remain aboard to check the fluids and pressures of his vehicle. He has been looking in the rear mirror at the tangled twosome with their dresses above their garters, who just managed to sit upright. Millie helped Regina back into her seat and the ladies tugged their dresses back into place, while glaring at the driver, grinning in the mirror. Embarrassed, the two looked away from each other as they then stood up at the same time, comically colliding with each other.



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



Shaking her head in disgust, Regina exited the bus followed by Ms. Mildred Bushyberry. Right at the bottom of the bus door steps, waited the school president, Ms. Cordelia Cockfoster and Mr. Ernest Bastermats, whose family’s chemical company sponsored the fun-fair this year. Cordelia fumed, her eyes filled with anger, as she shook Regina’s and Millie’s gloved hands in respect to formality.


Cordelia remarked icily, “Ladies, I see you managed to get the students here in one piece, albeit not without a lapse of discipline and quite a bit of a Moriarty upskirt show upon arrival. What have you two to say?”


Regina blustered, “It was that miscreant Al Roper and his girl Annie! They ruined my opening cautionary address and then they....”


“Regina,” Cordelia cut in, “You cannot continuously blame the students for your shortcomings. You must get control of yourself...and your wardrobe...and behave like a proper Provost, and the Dean of Students, of our beloved Institute! You should always set an example for these students to emulate!”


“B...B... But I was...” Ernest cut off the protesting Regina, and declared, “I think everyone made it just fine and we should go in and enjoy the carnival! Ladies, right this way. There is someone I want you to meet.”


The foursome moved to the ticketing area and entrance to the fair. After Ernest gave everyone a ticket, each of the adult fairgoers moved through the rusty, old-fashioned, iron turnstile, operated by a rather crusty carny and a clown, both equipped with elevator eyes, apparent as they drooled at the sexy-looking chaperones. While all the kids clicked through with speed, the process slowed as the more mature and comelier customers’ approached.


The carny said, “A lady always waits for her gentleman to hold the gate for her... Please, ma’am, one at a time.”


Regina smirked to see Bushyberry squeeze through the turnstile. It was tight fit and only with considerable pressure was Millie able to get through. As the clown approached, the carny pushed on her plump ass cheeks with both hands, getting a most good grip before guiding the aghast Millie through.


“Why was it turning so slowly?” Regina wondered. Then it was her turn. The carny gave her butt a firm pat as she moved through the turning bars. She gasped in alarm and felt the bars lock up before she could pass through. The clown pretended to assist, but only managed to feel Regina up as she whinnied in protest. The horny harlequin got quite a handful of her hooters before Ernest interceded and helped Regina out of the barrier and into the park. Regina flushed and flashed her eyes angrily at the clown and carny as more than a few chuckles sounded from watching fairgoers.


“You naughty masher!” Regina scolded.


Once in the fairgrounds proper, both man-handled matrons looked back at the entrance with incredulity as they both patted their dresses, their hands moving all about their recently groped goodies with disbelief as to what had just happened.


The sunny fairgrounds were divided into various sections. Immediately across from the entrance was the midway with an array of amusements. Then followed the rides, food fair, the bandshell, and the animal exhibits.



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



Inappropriate Introductions


As the students hurried excitedly for the midway ahead, the adults followed more slowly, at a distance. They moved through a low area, and suddenly, as the morning mist burned off, a most peculiar procession approached. There were clowns, freaks, animals, dancers, and musicians, all dressed in vibrantly colored costumes and performing enroute. At the head of the parade, walked a tall man, smartly dressed in black formalwear, complete with a cane and top hat.


“Ahhh... Good morning, sir!” Mr. Bastermats greeted him. “Please allow me to introduce these distinguished faculty members from our Ivy Industrial Institute; first I present President Cordelia Cockfoster, then Provost Regina Dubois, and finally Professor Mildred Bushyberry.”


“Ladies,” he continued, “Please join me in welcoming Mr. E.N. Fogler and the entire cast of his Ludicrous Kerfuffle Karnival to our community!”


As all shook hands and exchanged pleasantries, a dwarf clown stepped up and offered his small hand to Regina. She smiled condescendingly, and stooped to oblige, when she suddenly froze, hearing a loud series of pops. Her mouth formed a small ‘o’ as she realized her stylish dress was far too snug to allow her to perform such a stooped-over maneuver. The clown wagged his and her proffered hands with impatience while Regina’s cheeks blushed with an awkward glance about to see everyone watching her. She would certainly now have to improvise. She slowly tugged her dress up her thighs, and with a rueful smile as the dark welts of her stocking tops and garter fastenings basked in the late morning sunlight. Thusly leaned over, with her creamy breast mounds threatening to debut, and the luscious lengths of her gorgeous gams on display, Regina reddened hotly in alarm as the grinning clown pumped her hand for a long minute. Everyone watched her plump breasts nearly bobble free from the top of her dress as well as her stocking tops quiver as she clicked her heels in disbelief. Then, the sound of the popping of her outfits' back seam announced the emergence of her large rear end, barely pantied, blossoming from the back of her tight dress.


Several nearby cameras flashed, clearly capturing the puffy areolas of her breasts peeking over the top of her gown like a sunburst, triggering her to react just before her nipples and derriere joined the photo op. As Reg reached to secure her descending neckline, her stuck-up confederate Alexandra, gasped in astonishment and grabbed Regina’s shoulder. This was just enough to permit a very pink, and perky nipple from Regina’s left breast to pop out, hardening in the cool mist. Reg gasped and rapidly broke contact from the midget, stood up, and tugged her dress up over her tits. She looked around with a squeal, and touched her hair with apprehension, then threw a hand around her bottom generating a delightful self-swat. She quickly concealed inches of ass crack peeking above her too-small, hot pink, bikini panties, just as the back seam of her tight dress parted.


Regina, her face now very hot, saw with surprise, every mouth of her ad hoc audience, hanging open, with anticipation to see more of her charms.


To draw everyone’s attention from the disconcerted and distraught Regina, Ms. Bushyberry turned to Mr. Fogler and asked, “What a curious name... what is the origin?”


“Yes, as my name suggests, I love to watch, but all the players own the carnival. I am only their spokesman.”


Millie’s face flushed to see his gloved hands holding a cane topped with an ivory head, remarkably resembling the full buttocks of a woman.


Mr. Fogler then said, “Please excuse me, I must be going. Do enjoy yourselves, my lovelies.” With a flourish and practiced sleight of hand, two bright yellow tickets appeared in his gloved hand.


He asserted, “Here are some free passes, ladies. One for our Timeless Carousel and the other, our Amazing Maze of Mirrors. Please take them and enjoy.”


Both Bushyberry and the barely composed provost were bowled over by his debonair manner. They readily took the tickets from his hand with less-than-ladylike-giggles.


“We better catch up to the students…, thank you so much, SIR,…and… well, much thanks for having us here today.”


Departing, he added over his shoulder, “And please remember ladies...you’re chaperones today..., as you are charged, here at my carnival, the choice to join in, will be completely the individual’s. Please take care, as poor choices could lead to...ahem, sadness, humiliation, fear, and maybe agony... for our carnival to breakfast on today.”


As the faculty members turned to catch up to their students far ahead, a loud ‘CRACK’ was audible. Millie, Regina, and Alexandra jumped upright, all with a high-pitched yelp. Everyone stopped in alarm, to see what had happened. The three ladies were clutching their hindquarters and experiencing what felt a sharp strike impact across each of their bubbly bottoms, simultaneously administered. Each of the teachers' twin cheeks stung smartly as they looked around at their bottoms to see a phosphorescent red line slowly fading from across their assaulted asses. Alexandra oddly smiled with a wince, while Millie and Regina were completely taken aback by their rude spanking. None saw a culprit. In fact, there was nothing at all. All traces of the retinue, as well as the obscuring mist, had oddly and vanished.



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



Many Mortifying Moments on the Midway


The adults, delayed by having to wait while Mildred Bushyberry repaired Regina’s dress with her ever-present sewing kit, finally approached the students at the “Rings the Bell” attraction, where many undergraduates were gathered.


“Oh Cordelia, this should be fun!” gushed Regina.


“Yes, MRS. DUBOIS,” the Cockfoster upbraided, correcting Regina’s informality. Then she added stingingly: “By the tingling in my pointed shoes, something shameful will ensue.”


Up ahead, Primrose pined for a big pink teddy bear hanging from the prize rack and she was letting all the boys know about it.


“Looks easy, son? Well, step right up.” The barker barked. Miles stepped right up, determined to win his crush the bear. Primmy performed a rather sexy cheer right next to the bell to motivate her boyfriend. Miles hefted the mallet and then swung it down with all his strength. The ringer flew upward but snagged on Prim’s tube top, pulling the pink bandeau up, and right off her body. While Miles didn’t exactly ring the bell, the effect was equally alarming. As Primrose gasped and stared down at her incredibly perky puppies, perfectly protruding from her bouncing torso.


“EEEKKK she shrieked as she looked with disbelief at her state of dishabille. Her eyes blinked as her cheeks reddened with embarrassment when she looked up at all the geeks gawking at her. Quick as a whistle, a camera flashed, Miles tented his shorts, and the crowd exploded in cheers to see Prim’s two glorious pink breasts wag up and down as everyone watched a pair of rosy nipples begin to harden in the fall air.


With a delightful squeal, Primrose clapped her hands across her bare breasts and screamed at her squeeze, now sporting a significant stiffy, “Miles, you idiot! You stripped me topless in public!”


Miles turned around, stooping, to hide his rising to the occasion, so to speak, and protested, “I… I just wanted to win you the bear.”


With a chuckle, the carney operator said, “Nice try sonny! You didn’t win the bear, but you did bare your babe’s beautiful boobs, and for that, I’ll give you this little bear as a consolation prize. Thanks for a glorious show today.”


The carny then retrieved Primrose's tube top with a stick and handed it back to the blushing Primrose, who scowled at her ad hoc audience as well as Miles.


The approaching Regina’s eyes widened at was happening and tried to turn Cordelia Cockfoster and Mr. B away, but it was too late. Both saw her daughter Primrose, with her plump tits out in public.


“Regina! What in the world is your daughter doing???” Cordelia barked.


Ernest added with a nod to Regina’s ample bustline, “I think the young lady is displaying a beautiful pair of family heirlooms, she’s obviously inherited from her mother here.”


“I... Uhh...have no idea, but I’m going to find out!” Regina fumed with a flushed face, sharing her daughter's embarrassment.


Before Regina charged up, Primrose tugged her top back into place and hissed at Miles, “Just get me outta here-NOW!”


Miles took her arm and escorted her away, but they both heard the bell ring, announcing Al’s stroke ensured Prim’s rival, Annie, now had her bear. Primrose, looked back, wrinkling her nose in frustration her boyfriend was bested by that rube, Al.


Pretending to not hear Regina’s shouting, Miles and Primrose hurried along. They passed The Ring-Toss game where Miles spotted an identical big teddy bear prize hanging from the wire above the booth.


Not watching, he poked his Primrose in the bottom with his erection.


“Hey! What’s wrong with you?”


Before he could answer, Primrose was interrupted by the carny.


“Feeling lucky, school boy?”


Miles spun about to see a very cute female vendor, suggestively spinning a rainbow-colored ring around her finger, hailing him. He paused, and looked at Primrose as if to suggest he try again, but she cut him off.


“Everyone knows those games are all rigged! Let’s keep moving!” Primrose declared.


Primrose pushed him on past, just as the vendor winked at Miles, and nodded with a sly smile at his still-full shorts! He thanked his lucky stars Primrose did not notice, as they moved away, but a final glance back caused Miles to stumble and pitch forward, and collide with his crush, nearly bisecting her bottom.


“WHAAEEiii???” Primrose startled, as she was nearly rogered by his rampant erection. “Why in the world are you...so excited?”


“I can’t control it! It has been rock-hard all morning. I mean... I... It’s been ages...since we...well we...or you...haven’t...” he mumbled awkwardly, digging himself into a pit.


Primrose retorted with a roar: “Nor will I buddy-boy! I’m not in the mood and I am mad as heck with you right now! For all I care, you can pass out from your blue balls, because I am NOT ABOUT to DO ANYTHING to relieve you...from...your...your deplorable CONDITION! ... Read my Lips... THERE ARE NO BLOW JOBS IN YOUR FORESEEABLE FUTURE nor any other CARNAL COUPLING your blood-starved brain could imagine!”



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



Regina could hear her daughter shouting up ahead, but she was anxious to steer Ernest Bastermats and Ms. Cockfoster away from her recently topless daughter. She guided the adults down a branch of the Midway, hoping to restore a modicum of decency to the devolving outing she was supposed to be supervising.


“Ah look here, our very own Beth Modiste and Genevieve Jameson, in a friendly competition at the Ladder Climb Challenge,” Regina exclaimed.


Unfortunately, just as everyone gathered to watch, the good-intentioned rivalry rapidly regressed into a rather regrettable raunchy ribaldry. With both red-blooded girls intent to win, they each scrambled up the teetering rope ladders with remarkable speed toward the flag at the top. Just as Gen reached for the flag, Beth leaned over and tried to shove Genevieve off, but lost her balance and spun around, upside down. Gen then leapt onto Beth’s ladder and the two began an aerial affray as more spectators gathered to watch the girls loudly catfighting from either side of the spinning rope ladder.


To Regina’s chagrin, the crush of the growing crowd pushed her, Cordelia, and Mr. B. right to the front of the booth, where Regina triggered a facepalm at the next NC-17 rated student disaster about to occur before everyone.


“OUCH! You b*tch!” screamed Beth, as Genevieve pulled open her crop top, freed her foe’s lovely pink breasts, and pinched her taut nipples with both hands. Beth then doubled upward, pushing her full breasts through rope as the seat of her capri pants burst open with a loud “RRRIIIIPP!!”


“GAAAHH” Beth gurgled, craning her blushing face around to see her bright yellow panties, printed with colorful clown faces, on display to the crowd. Everyone was delighted to see her peachy bottom bulging around her tight cotton briefs, decidedly a few sizes too small.


Genevieve laughed and let go of Beth’s teats, “Looks like today is wash day!”


Beth, furious, bared her teeth with determination and rocked the ladder about so she was now on top, stifling Genevieve’s smart remarks with her soft boobies.


Gen started to protest, “Hey, wai...arrrgrrrmph” as she felt the rope ladder snag her cutoffs and haul them right off her hips and to mid-thigh, rolling her pink panties right down with her shorts. With her arms and feet wrapped around the rungs, she hung with her bare bottom wagging just above the mats below as her slides fell from her feet.


As applause began to fill the booth, Cordelia bellowed at Regina, “Ms. Dubois, Dean of Students, and your bloody chaperones had better DO SOMETHING IMMEDIATELY!” She scowled at the grinning Mr. Bastermats, who was adding to the cheering crowd.


By the time Regina, Ms. Bushyberry, and Alexandra wobbled over the mats and foam blocks in their high heels to reach the fighting students, Beth and Genevieve were completely entangled in the ropes and rungs and so that they were tightly bound. Each girl was secured with a ladder rung gagging their gurgling mouths, their bare breasts free and pushing through the ropes and hanging like ripe melons as the ladder spun around. The vexed vixens faced the other, angry as wet cats. Their hot, sweaty boobs rubbed together delightfully; the four mounds capped with nipples pointed like pencil erasers. Beth’s left knee was pushed between Genevieve’s legs, slightly spreading her bare bottom for the amusement of the closely watching fair-goers. Fortunately for her admiring impromptu audience snapping dozens of pictures, Gen presented a freshly shaved and waxed sn*tch, although from her muffled screams, she hardly seemed happy about it. Beth’s tired panties had, like Gen’s, glided down off her glutes, providing a scrumptious slice of crack for the crowd’s remembrance and countless photos.


The chaperones tried to grab ahold where they could, but they just added to the hilarity by pinching young breasts, grabbing tight buns, and occasionally inserting their fingers into their students more intimate openings to the howls of gagged outrage.


Two clowns soon arrived and relieved the flummoxed female faculty. They wrapped the sweat-sheened and squealing students in a shiny pink space blanket and carried them away for a very hands-on detangling back stage.


Curiously, all three of the breathless teachers felt a warmth linger in their loins after handling their nearly nude, hottie charges. They were then suddenly shaken from their moist moment by the cry of the Cockfoster.


“Chaperones indeed! Can’t you three see what is happening up ahead there? Get you fat-asses in high gear and shut that deviant morality down this instant!”


The chastised trio hustled up the midway to catch up to a large crowd of boys gathered around a very adult attraction, the titillating ‘Temple of Temptation.’ The breathless Mildred was astounded to see a bright banner across the front reading “Explore the Isle of Lesbos” and another, “Hurry Inside to Have a View of the Hareem!” All about the attraction, girls barely dressed, in what could only be described as scandalous underpinnings, in shockingly immodest colors, gyrated, shimmied, and shook to the delight of all the young males watching.


Before Cordelia could catch up, the three chaperones teachers shooed the testosterone-fueled formation away, despite the amorous sensation they were experiencing from the, well, the experience. Unimaginably, Mildred, Regina, and Alex were all feeling a heightened state of stimulation from their last stop on this midway. Partially to blame was the fact each wore a tight dress, causing their silk-sheathed thighs to slightly abrade during the arduous work of running about at Cordelia’s direction. This silken friction accelerating each of our ladies alarming amounts of arousal. As a result, as they drove the young men away, they each were transfixed by the lovely ladies in the most licentious lingerie, serving as lures for this lewd allurement. Millie, Regina, and Alexandra blushed hotly and looked at each other, knowing full well what the other was experiencing, but were unable to look away or make any sense of their erotic experience. Still, as Institute faculty and chaperones for these young students, they were incredulous about such a scandalous show at their local school carnival.




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




Miles and Primrose approached the fair food court and Miles asked, “Primrose, how about some salt-water taffy?”


“Yuck! That stuff is gross!” she snapped. “I wouldn’t eat it, even if you put it in my mouth.” She dismissively turned, and with a flip of her ponytail, walked ahead toward the rides with the other students.


Crestfallen, Miles stared at his shoes, and noticed he still had a boner despite being consistently rebuffed by his icy crush.


Just then, the chaperones arrived along with Annie and Al. Miles tried again, “Anyone want to try some fair food? There are fudge bananas, chocolate frisbees, fried twinkies, yummy churros, and corn dogs!”


Regina turned to Millie and Alexandra and announced: “I for one, am NOT ABOUT to bite a fudge-banana, tongue a twinkie, chomp on a churro, or cock-gobble a corndog…. With all these students and their instant cameras all around. They would make a laughingstock of me in moments!”


Millie giggled at Regina’s crude verbiage, drawing a scowl from the accompanying Cordelia.


Miles took Al aside and whispered, “Did you manage to spike Prim’s lunch with the love dust I gave you?”


Al hissed back, “Of course! I loaded her ham-on-wheat with enough of your aphrodisiac to make a whole host of hippos horny!”


Miles responded, “I don’t understand it... I took only one dose this morning with my breakfast, and I’ve had morning wood and afternoon wood ever since. Primrose should be feeling way more turned on than she is right now! The only thing of interest to her today, seems to be that stupid stuffed bear I can’t seem to win.”


Al and Miles were interrupted by a loud female scream. When they looked over, they saw a very wet Alexandra yelling at the carny operating the Spray-Gun Balloon Race game.


“Ma’am, I’m so sorry, ... It must have been a loose connection…but I…uuhh… I think if you would calm down and take stock of your dress…uhhh,…I mean, just look down and you’ll see for yourself ….”


“Whatever are you talking about!” Alexandra screeched as she pushed her soaking wet hair from her face.


“Your dress…it’s…” he continued, pointing at her as a lecherous smile appeared on his face.


Alexandra looked down and wailed, “GAAHHHH!!!! My dress!!! It’s completely transparent!!!” To the delight of the fair goers watching, indeed it was. Miles’s mother’s linen dress was sheer as a sheet of Saran Wrap, revealing her choice of underwear today, or rather lack thereof... Alexandra obviously wore no brassiere and her pert breasts topped with dark, extended nipples, bounced about freely, under her soaked dress. Further down, it was apparent she was wearing a most sexy white garter belt, attached to a pair of sheer nude-colored silk stockings, without the hint of panties girding her firm loins.


Alexandra continued screaming, which drew more attention to the impromptu sideshow she was putting on, as she frantically turned about on one heel, then the other, trying to reduce her exposure. She plucked at her dress to try and hold it away from her moist body, but this only caused a barrage of brass buttons to pop off as the garment parted, creating more material for the camera crew on site filming “Game for a Flash!” to tape.


This all resulted in a cheer from Alexandra’s audience, composed of dozens of Ivy Industrial Institute students, who all could clearly see her skimpy lingerie was neither nylon, cotton, nor silk, but white leather. Their disciplinary docent decidedly had a dominatrix kink!


Miles could only stare, open mouthed as Al and Annie roared with laughter along with everyone else watching. Alexandra howled with embarrassment as she noticed Cordelia and Ernest approach, both astonished at her near nudity. Her nipples and her sable sn*tch, impeccably groomed, were most apparent too all.


Yelping as she clutched her rent-open wet dress around her, Alex doubled over and ran for the cover of their bus in the parking lot. The last everyone saw of Alexandra were the globes of her tight ass, fantastically framed by the tight straps of her garter belt, rolling under the transparent wet linen of her sopping dress, as she scampered down the midway.


Cordelia huffed at the sight, and said, “I think we have seen quite enough here, Ernest, let’s get a snack.” She took his arm and marched away.


As the fleeing Alexandra bolted past Regina and Millie, the two tittered at her travesty. Regina said loudly, “Mildred, did you have any idea Miles’s mother was an exhibitionist?” Millie shook her head, “No, not at all,” and laughed at her compromised colleague, caterwauling, and clutching her exposed tits and puss in a futile attempt to restore her modesty.




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




“Say Millie, why don’t you and I try this one over here, for a bit of sport” Regina asked.


“Oohh Regina, a genuine Ferris Wheel! What a splendid idea. We must ride right now, my dear Reg.” Millie took Regina’s gloved hand in hers and the two sat on the small seat of the creaking ride. As the wheel slowly rotated, loading other riders, the pair exchanged small talk, then spoke of their respective challenges at school. Suddenly, just as their car stopped at the top of the wheel, Regina leaned and put a gloved finger to Millie’s lips, as she simultaneously squeezed the band leader’s formidable left breast with her other hand.



Mildred immediately bit down on Regina’s finger and held it between her lips. She then thrust her hand right up Regina’s dress and began to tickle her superior’s fancy. Regina leaned back and opened her legs to this intrusion, gulping air like a goldfish, while Millie mouthed her lips along with the inserted leathered digit, all while rocking high in the air.



After a moment of intimate intrusion, Regina announced, “I’m driving! Get that fantastic ass of yours on my lap right now!” Millie wasted no time stretching across the seated Regina who pulled the band leader’s dress up over her hips as she wriggled her bottom to assist. Regina stared down nearly breathless at an ivory shaper girdle; atop the full-cut, bright red panties her colleague wore.



“Millie, you minx! Red panties, just like mine!” Regina declared as she delivered a hard smack across the rosy panty covered bottom presented before her on the Ferris Wheel. One by one, Regina unclasped Millie’s girdle’s garters from her seamed, RHT stockings. Millie then squealed as Regina began tugging her girdle up, up over and off her plump ass cheeks. Once her shaper was around the Bushyberry’s waist, Regina lost no time tugging her panties down to Mildred’s mid-thigh.



“Whatever are you going to do now Regina?” murmured Millie.



“Just what you have always been asking for, Mildred!” Regina responded.



Now it was time for Mildred to gulp air like a goldfish as Regina began spanking her friend’s rotund and upthrust big bare ass, rapidly changing its color from creamy white to crimson, as the elder Dubois’s leather-gloved hand applied scores of stinging swats to her sit spot to sound of much “MEEPing” from Mildred. Regina then rubbed Bushyberry’s well beaten bottom to the sounds of cooing and sighing, especially when Regina’s lingering fingers, delving between Millie’s glowing plump cheeks, probed the her most intimate regions with penetrating persuasiveness.



But just then, Mildred swiveled about and pulling her upthrust dress right off her head, and straddled her surprised provost, ensuring her enormous breasts were completely hauled from her sturdy bullet bra, and mashed against Mrs. Dubois mouth.



“Whaahhhh...blub blub bll…” Regina burbled, motor-boating on Millie's amazing milkers.



“Regina, I need you to...my breasts, I need you suck my...my tits...!”



Millie sat nearly naked aside Regia, with her dress off, bra pulled down, her girdle, hauled up over her hips, and her soaked panties tangled about her ankles. Regina tried to say something in protest, but Millie grabbed her superior by her luscious red locks and pulled Regina up for a full, tongue-in, lingering kiss.



Regina, now aroused and feeling very frisky having been French kissed by her former foil for five minutes, could not resist grabbing Millie’s hot and swollen bottom with both hands and bouncing Mildred’s moistened mound topped by a trimmed bush against her very own stockinged leg, exposed by her own dress riding way up.



Just as her fingers moved closer to push all Bushyberry’s buttons, the wheel began to slowly creak free and rotate, wresting them from their reverie with the terrifying thought they may get caught.



“OMG! We’re moving…. Quickly! Mm..m…My dress… Help me with my bra! Where are my panties???”



In a flurry of flapping clothing, squeaking, and jostling, by the time the wheel began it normal movement, the two recalcitrant women were reasonably recomposed, though hot-cheeked, breathless, disheveled, and now wearing each other’s lipstick AND each other's panties.





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





Meanwhile, down below, at ground level...



With the chaperones absent, Miles slipped away back to the Ring Toss game and tried his luck with the cute operator. Soon however he was out of money, and he appealed to the comely carny for help.



“You see, my girlfriend REALLY wants that bear, and well, I uhh…was…hoping you could help me out.”



She wasn’t about to give in and countered, “Tell you what. You're kinda cute so I’ll make you an offer. For every two items of your clothing, I’ll give you a complimentary toss.”



He paused for a moment, thinking how close he had come just minutes earlier. Besides, he had his basketball uniform in his gym bag, back on the bus. “What the heck, he was sure to win the bear.” he told himself.



A pair of shoes and socks, and a shirt and undershirt later, Miles stood blushing uncomfortably in front of the grinning girl who was biting her thumbnail in anticipation. Miles, in only his Bermuda shorts, was something she was very happy to behold. His smoothed, long-muscled, and tan physique was most dishy she decided.



“Well, that’s it…I certainly can’t afford to go on…” Miles complained.



The Carny piped up, “Since you have been such a good sport and I am DYING to see what you’re wearing under those shorts, I’ll give you one last chance toss for the pair.”



Miles looked around. Currently no one around the booth to see him bet his Bermudas. She patted the pile of his clothes she had on her counter, and prompted him, “Let’s go big boy, get ‘em off.”



Miles slowly shucked off his shorts, and handed them over. She laughed out loud and clapped her hands. “He really did it!” she giggled to herself. She licked her lips to see him wearing a truly brief pair of briefs, bright yellow with white flowers, in honor of his crush’s namesake. Miles trembled, tomato faced, barefoot and knock-kneed, as she handed him his last ring.



Staring at his considerable bulge, she said in a husky voice, “You certainly seem to be well equipped, and rather… excited.” He blushed furiously and trying to ignore her, turned to face the bottles. “Heyeeee” he squeaked as the girl gripped his hot buns, barely covered by the near T-back of his Y-fronts.



Startled, he complained, “Hey, no grabbing, okay?”



“Sure, kid.” She lied, and as Miles leaned over and prepared to toss, she wound up to warm his buns smartly and properly, but her assault was suddenly arrested.



Just then, there came a very loud and very familiar and very adult female voice, that instantly turned Miles’s blood to ice.



“MILES!!! What-are-you-doing?” “Why are you parading before this…girl… in only your UNDERWEAR?”



Before he could answer, his toss went wild, and he clutched his hands over his crotch, as he faced his furious mother. She had dried off her dress, brushed her hair, and replaced many missing brass buttons with safety pins. Her screams were drawing a lot of attention from fairgoers and the red-faced Miles blinked back at many astonished faces now peering at him, in his undressed state, with curiosity.



“Mom, I can explain, I was trying to win this bear for Primrose, and I…”



Alex snapped, “Right, you stripped off your clothes in front of this little tramp, to win your decent, proper girlfriend a teddy bear?” “Get over here young man,” taking hold of his arm and pulling him to her. “We are leaving RIGHT NOW!”



“Wait, Mom…my clothes,” he whined. “Let me get dressed, pleeease.”



“You should have thought about that earlier, now let’s GO!”



During his dressing down by his mother, the affronted carny surreptitiously snagged Miles’s miniscule manties on a nail protruding from the rail for a more drastic dressing down.



As Alex hauled him away from the booth, Miles felt his briefs being pulled off as he struggled to keep his mother from increasing his growing exposure. “Mom, hold on…a second…STOP…”



Alexandra looked back at the carny who was laughing hysterically and snapping pictures of Miles, and joined by a half-dozen other girls giggling and pointing as his underpants were pulled off.



“Miles, whatever are you stopping for?” was followed by a loud “RIIIPPP” then,

Ooohhh Noooo…MOM…!”



Alexandra turned and screamed, “MILES!!! WHY ARE YOU NAKED?”



Suddenly, from the booth, flew an expertly tossed rainbow colored ring, and to everyone’s astonishment, it landed right on Miles's erection, sliding down his shaft to form an impromptu cock ring. Miles yelped and yipped, but was unable to remove it, as he grew even larger from this latest humiliation.



Everyone laughed as the Carny girl shouted, “I get lots of practice. Wear it with pride!”



Alex shook her head in disgust and dragged him along by his ear, forcing him to walk stooped over, using one hand to cover his bum, and the other to clutch his rock-hard ringed member. As the befuddled youth stumbled along, his mother spanked his bare bottom over and over to the delight of everyone watching. The miserable Miles stared slack-jawed to see many of his classmates watching his undoing, including the entire female basketball team, all taking pictures and laughing at the embarrassed naked boy being hauled off and spanked by his mother.



Adding to their hilarity, Alexandra’s hastily repaired dress malfunctioned again and

Soon she was flashing stocking tops, creamy thighs, glimpses of garter, and lots of boobage to her audience. When she reached the riding arena, she sat down on a bale of hay, hauled the denuded dupe, over her lap, and began further reddening Miles’s bottom with her hairbrush as he kicked and cried in protest.



Alexandra then heard someone say, “Hey sister, hold on just a minute…”



The Bridle, Tack, and Reins team gathered round her.

“Why don’t you mind your own business you frea…?” was all she got out before they mobbed her and bundled Alexandra away.



Miles sprang to his feet and abandoning modesty, rubbed his burning buns with both hands as he bolted for the bus and his gym bag, his big boner bobbing.





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




Many Mortifying Moments on the Midway



A short while later, Ernest Bastermats suggested to Primrose and Cordelia, “Let’s ride the Steeple Chase and explore the Insanitarium! It looks like the weather may be changing and it may be a good idea to finish up the rides soon.”



Cordelia nodded in agreement as she watched many students heading in that direction. In front of the attraction a large sign read: Don’t be a Gloomster, be a Steeple Chaser! The Chase’s Hills are Full of Thrills! Satisfaction Guaranteed by Builder, A. Frahm. There was also a scary visage a man grinning from ear to ear.



Just then, Mildred and Regina hurried up to join the adults and Primrose. Cordelia crossly asked, “Where have you two been?”



“We...uuhh...wuuh we were riding the Ferris Wheel.” they both blurted to their boss, standing at attention with their hands behind their back, like naughty schoolgirls caught misbehaving.



The Cockfoster barked, “Hah! “By the looks of your clothes, hair, and makeup, you two look like you have been wrestling with that trained bear back there.”



Both blushed furiously as their hands brushed their bobs, tugged at their dresses, and felt their flanks, patting down the other’s panties, their own now around the other’s bottom. This sensation served to remind them of their lewdly licentious lesbian behavior, stuck atop the wheel, just minutes ago. Millie fidgeted to realize Dubois’s too-small unmentionables were uncomfortably bound tightly up between her plump cheeks, while Regina’s eyes bugged with the realization Millie’s plus-size underpants were at approaching half-mast, completely below the globes of her rump’s glutes.



As if on que to break the tension of this awkward silence, Miles ran up and took Primrose’s hand. He was now dressed in his school basketball uniform.



She asked him, “Miles! I’ve missed you. We thought you were lost. Where have you been and why did you change clothes?”



“I umm… I just wanted to show some school spirit, I guess.” He mumbled, dodging her question. He thought to himself, “Why was she acting so receptive now?” He hoped he could get the ring off his raging rod before she found it. At least the athletic supporter he now wore under his shorts, was somewhat securing his unstoppable Soldier-standing-at-attention.



“Well,” Primrose announced, reading the sign before the Steeple Chase, “Miles and I are going to ride the Sky Chair Lift, because we need to talk some things out (‘wink-wink’ at her boyfriend) and this looks like it might make me queasy.” She then led Miles away.



Cordelia concurred with Primrose assessment of the Steeple Chase, and said to Millie, “Mrs. Bushyberry, let’s ride this fair’s famous carousel.” Mildred responded, “Yes, of course! I have free pass from Mr. Fogler!” Their departure left Mr. Bastermats and Regina with only Al and Annie.



“What do you say Mrs. Dubois, up for a wild horsey ride?”



“Why, thank you, Ernest, but I do hope it is not too scary!” Regina offered him her arm and they walked together up the wooden ramps, leading to the ride.



Once they were at the head of the line, ready to start, a scary looking attendant with a mischievous grin and chomping a cigar, barked, “Everyone rides tandem today. Double up on your ponies.”



Al and Annie rushed for the last steed in the back to experience the most thrills, leaving the first horse for Mr. B and the provost to mount. Once he was seated, Regina approached the pony apprehensively. Worried about her tight dress with its low neckline, Regina now regrettably realized Millie's mixed up panties were suddenly heading south. Just as she reached to tug them up, the attendant appeared and with a leering smile, grabbed the shocked provost around her trim waist and manhandled her full figure, sidesaddle, in front of Ernest. She gasped to feel his warm breath, with a hint of tobacco, waft across her bulging bosom as she leaned into him. Fuming, she pushed the carny away, took the reins, and leaned back against Ernest. One by one, the ponies were released, and began to slide down the rails and pick up speed. The flying horses ‘jumped’ over hedges, ditches, fences, and even a small steam along the way as everyone screamed and held their hands in the air.



Regina, seated as she was, began to lose her balance and yelled, “Ernest, sir, ...I must ask you to...to steady my....”



“Of course, my dear.” he said as he gripped her hips, then her waist.



“OHhh My...I’m surely going to fall...” she cried, while he moved his hands higher to get a better grip as the ride violently pitched their speeding mount to and fro as she rose high in her saddle.



Bits of turf flew about, as splashes of water to simulate an authentic steeplechase while the rides raced through a tunnel, then strobe lights, before slowing at the finish line decorated with dozens of colorful pennants and a replica church steeple.



As the ride came to stop, everyone waiting to board stared in shock at the spectacle at the head end of the hitch-up.



There in shock, sat Ms. Regina Dubois, wide-eyed and bolt upright, still clutching the reins. Her dress had ridden up to her hips so there was plenty of stocking top, garter straps, and creamy bare thigh to be seen. Between her slightly parted knees were stretched Bushyberry’s oversized red polka-dotted panties, prominently now on display. Best of all, however, was the sight of Regina’s cracking rack, bouncing in the afternoon air. Her moist and massive, barely demi-brassiered boobs, both out from the top of her dress, were securely in the hands of her fellow gentlemanly rider, seated behind her. Regina’s eraser-sized nipples were just covered by her bra’s creamy lace trim, but her rosy areoles were clearly visible, resembling twin rising suns emerging against a field of white, like the flag of Japan’s navy.



A few camera flashes and the murmuring of the que, brought Regina back to the moment. She slowly looked down and took stock of her dishabille she was presenting. Her eyes opened even further, as she gasped for breath, dropped the reins, and waved her hands above her cool handled hooters. “Err....Ernest, Mr...B... we have stopped and you can now please... unhand..., let go of my t...”



As she yipped at the spectacle of her undressed breasts, Regina saw, along with everyone else, a sticky blotch of mud on her dewy decollete, just begging to be wiped off. There was a flurry of handkerchiefs waving at the opportunity, but Mr. Fogler suddenly appeared and did the honors, visibly stiffening her nipples in the process. She could only stare down in open mouth disbelief when with a near-audible ‘SPRONG,’ both her rock-hard nipples popped into view. As the crowd hushed, Mr. Fogler deftly tucked her teats back in, while Regina gasped at the feel of his icy fingers touching the tips of her two tremendous tits. He then gently guided Regina off her steed and helped her to her heels. She later swore she felt his cool hands everywhere at once; copping a feel, clutching her bare bottom, delving into her damp scarlet-furred cleft, brazenly brushing between her upper thighs above her stocking stops, before finally stealing a full kiss from the fully felt-up, flush cheeked, and flummoxed faculty head, as Mildred’s panties drifted slowly to her four-inch designer heels.



Regina gasped as they passed the photo booth, to see herself red-faced on the ride with her tits out, mouth open in shock, and panties around her knees. She blushed furiously when people recognized her from the pictures and said, “There she is! It must be some kind of stunt.”



Regina squawked at her gawkers, laughing at her, and taking more pictures, “stop looking at me” as she clamped her arms over her boobs, stooped forward, and shuffled slowly to the ladies loo, complaining, “THIS IS SO UNDIGNIFIED! Mrs. Cockfoster is surely going to pay for this.”





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





Curiously, at the exact same time, but across the fairgrounds, as the sky darkened, Mr. Fogler guided Cordelia and Mildred toward the timeless carousel. They noticed this curious attraction was much more somber than other merry-go-rounds they had seen before. It was painted in darker colors, and featured scary night beasts, suspended midgallop, as well as benches decorated with bats, cats, and other curious nocturnal creatures.



“This ride is the favorite of our Pandemonium Shadow Show!” Mr. Fogler cried above the wind. “Let me help you aboard.” Both ladies noticed they were the only riders embarking, but were too excited to care, as they hurried along.



Mildred noticed a sign reading, ‘Out of Order, KEEP OFF!’ and looked concerned.



Mr. Fogler read her mind and assured them both, “No worries, ladies, it has just been repaired.”

He then helped them select their mounts, though they were the only riders.



Mildred Bushyberry mounted a rampant black stallion, as Mr. Fogler assisted her and ensured her snug dress was hiked up well above around her bulging but well-girdled midsection, so she could “best experience the ride” he added with a chuckle. Cordelia noticed Mildred was NOT wearing her usual conservative underwear, but rather a bright pair of bright red panties, far too small, and now stretched into a genuine G-string, completely on display and her uncovered plump bottom bounced on her horse’s matching bare back. Bushyberry, bubbly with excitement, shouted, “Don’t dally, Delia, hurry up and get on!”



Cordelia then felt their mysterious host hoist her atop a leaping panther and get her seated. She began to protest as she felt her skirt raise, but strangely could say nothing. Her legs, covered in old-fashioned roll-up white stockings, secured with elastic garter bands of yesteryear topped with pink rosettes, were fully exposed and surprisingly still attractive. She shuddered as she gripped the fierce feline’s flanks, brazenly bare, but thankful no one else was around to see her immodest exhibit.



A peculiar looking carney stepped up as operator, and pulled the knife-switch handle. The control box spat, as arcs of electricity flew around the carousel, then subsided as the amusement began to move; but in reverse!



Both women yelped in alarm as the carousel lurched, began to spin slowly then very quickly, and the calliope screeched a very disconcerting tune. Mildred, with her musical training, thought she could recognize it as a work of Chopin, but it was being played backwards!



As the ride swirled madly, both ladies could see the carney grinning next to Mr. Fogler, who was staring at them very intently.



As they bounced up and down on their rapidly revolving, pole-mounted mounts, they pitched forward to clutch the neck of their respective beasts to keep from falling off. Both were suddenly covered in St. Elmo’s fire and to scream, although they were not being harmed, but rather changed.



The two faculty members began to feel oddly aroused as they spun around, dresses billowed up and out, their bottoms bouncing, and mons of Venus mashed against the charged polished poles moving up and down by the oscillating crank rods sliding up and down, above. While they could only see the other across from them, they witnessed with each reversed revolution of the carousel, they were both becoming more youthful.



“Yes, ladies, your seeing is believing. Our carousel can rewind the clock of time!” Mr. Fogler shouted over the din.



His comment, however, did little to halt their hysteria. As they howled, static electricity continued to crackle and pop against their bounding bare hindquarters. They both stood in their stirrups whooping with arousal as the blue flashes of energy danced around their nether regions for what seemed an eternity.



Finally, the contraption slowed and jerked to a stop with a loud hiss, then silence.



The women were able to sit back down in their saddles, and with a plop and gasp that generated a puff of smoke from each of their astonished mouths, Cordelia and Bushyberry each slowly began to take stock of their situation. They each dismounted and stared at their altered states in the mirrored panels at the center of the carousels, alternating with mysterious scenic sections.



Mildred saw herself now a youthful, yet plump, young female of senior student age, like when she herself was an I3 band member. Open mouthed in stunned shock, she ran her hands first through her mane of luxurious blonde hair, then felt her sumptuous firm and full sweater pies, before cupping the cheeks of her full and high thrusting, broad bottom. Her clothing had transformed and her dress was still very snug, and her underpinnings tight girdling her plump loins.



Cordelia stared, mouth agog, to see reflected was an incredibly attractive middle-aged woman. She had morphed back in time to be the mouth-wateringly MILFy hot body, I3 teacher she once had been. Gob smacked; she gawked at her transformation. The Cockfoster had returned to her namesake, a luscious, lithe, long-legged lass with perky tits and an ass so tight you could bounce a dime off it. As she spun around, mystified, yet unable to look away from her reheated, hot ass image from yesteryear.



“What do you make of this, teach?” Mildred asked.



“It must be some strange illusion, a trick.” Cordelia murmured, still stunned, and staring at her reflection.



Mr. Fogler then took each lady’s hand and shouted above the coming storm, “Time is short, my lovelies, we must now hurry to rejoin the others.” They headed for the Insanitarium.





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





Far above the chaos below, rode Primrose and Miles, seated on the Sky Chair, and distracted as the lovebirds now were, not paying much attention to the deteriorating weather around them.



Miles asked his girl, “Primmy, are you feeling okay today?



I’m fine Miles, why do you ask?”



Well, it just seems you have been rather frosty with me today.... Did something in your box lunch upset your stomach?”



“Of course not! I traded Ms. Bushyberry my ham for her tuna anyway, and she shared it with the Cockfoster.



Miles winced to think the school’s biggest prudes had consumed a quadruple dose of Don Brew-Haha’s Vestal Virgin Pushover Paste! Even those two must be feeling hot-to-trot by now.



Primrose whispered, “I was getting turned on being your prick tease, kinky being b*tchy. It’s all good. Now, come closer big boy.”



In the blink of an eye, they were up to some serious necking on the elevated ride, perfect to avoid prying eyes of the supercilious chaperones as well as Prim’s overbearing mother, Regina.



Earlier, when boarding, they were confused why the attendant made them pass up three empty chairs before he seated them, but they also failed to notice him whisk the ‘WET VARNISH’ sign from the chair and hastily discard it.





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





While smooching and during a lot of heavy petting, Miles wasted no time lifting Prim’s tube top and getting his hands all over his crush’s renowned pink and perfectly plump pair. No slacker herself, Primrose had deftly fished into Miles’s uniform shorts and was busy getting her hands inside his jock strap, determined to steal third base.



Miles moved to tug her shorts down, but found they were adhered to the seat.



“Primrose, you’re stuck!”



“Whaa??” She replied, tugging his tumescent torpedo out of his jock and into the breeze.



Just then, the ride jolted to a sudden stop, flinging both hot and bothered riders from their seats. Miles pitched right out and would have fallen headlong to the ground, had not his uniform shorts, glued to the chair lift, become tangled with his Pro-Keds. He now hung inverted by his feet from the ride, wearing only his jockstrap and jersey. As the youth bellowed with fear and his arms flailed, his loose jersey slid off his toned torso and dropped to the ground. He screamed as his face turned the color of an eggplant, frantically trying to cover his bare bottom and wiener wagging at everyone watching.



Primrose fell from her seat upright, but her stuck short-shorts and panties, were hauled into a dreadful double wedgie. Her tube top was tugged up over her face, covering her eyes. She now hung right along her upside-down almost nude crush, shouting in blind alarm and acute discomfort, her legs, kicking wildly in protest. Her magnificent melons, tipped with rosy, tight nipples, wagged to the cheering fair goers below, watching the stripping spectacle unfold.



“What’s going on, I can’t see! OOOOhhh, Ouchy...My shorts...MILES!!! They’re ALL UP IN MY ASS!!!” “MILES? Where are you? What are you doing...? Oh, there you are...” she shouted as she grasped the waistband of his athletic supporter. “Oh, there he is, my little-big guy...”



“Prim, what are doing? STOP!!” He screamed, looking up at her to witness her blindly fumbling with his erection and his last bit of clothing.



A loud ‘ZZZRRRAAZZZZ!!!’ announced the shredding of Primrose’s shorts and she suddenly dropped another two feet lower, but thankfully, her panties now arrested her descent. She humorously still held on to Miles’s jock, now down about his knees. This jolt comically caused a series of unfortunate events that further humiliated our lovebirds. Prim’s top finally fell from her eyes and her peepers popped wide while her mouth dropped open in shock to be up close and personal, wedged in public and in close proximity to her preferred prick. With a sudden a rock of the chair, Miles’s penis popped right into his Prim’s mouth.



“GAHHRRRGGGGG!” Prim gasped as she mouthed Miles’s member.



Wide-eyed with the realization she was completely deep-throating Miles’s over-developed, downside-up, dingus. She burbled in disbelief as his mouth collided with her bare but mismatched sn*tch, frightfully bisected by the stretched gusset of her cotton panties. Miles tried to say something, but his tongue did the talking to his crush, while she slurped on his serpent.



Miles reached the boiling point as his rainbow-colored cock ring shattered and his jock strap fell to the ground.



Despite the feeling of being cut her in half by her staining panties, Miles’s munching on her mahogany mound, was generating a very different effect. She squirmed against her denuded boyfriend’s athletic-toned body as her eyes began to roll back. She was on the cusp of ecstasy, when the overtaxed Miles exploded early. Primrose’s eyes bugged wide as her cheeks comically bulged while she simultaneously stared cross-eyed at his cannoli filling her mouth as flashes popped and cameras clicked.



Her orgasm ruined, the Dubois daughter, now gagging and head-wagging in disgust, managed to finally withdraw from his wiener, only to experience another burst from her denuded Miles, dangling now by only his shoe laces. He fully frosted her disbelieving face, generating more cheers from their adoring audience, immensely enjoying their impromptu oral sex show.



Finally with a snap of her knickers, Primrose fell, naked, save for her sneaks, graciously ending their inverted 69. Five seconds later, with the snapping of strings, the completely nude Miles Jameson plummeted headfirst after her.



Primrose dropped onto the salt water taffy stand, where she landed rather gently in a fluffy batch of yellow, cream-filled taffy, but had her tits tangled in the automated taffy pullers. She wildly shrieked as the vendors rushed to shut down the machine, and helped haul the naked, messy girl from the hopper, but not before the robotic hoses crammed her cavities full of clotted cream. Prim was plopped on the pavement, a blob of yellow and white, while the vendors, fairgoers, and a few dogs and cats, ran over and began trying to remove the yummy cream and taffy with spoons and tongues.



Miles landed ass first into the ‘Polar Pips Ice Cream’ booth. Polar Pips used liquid nitrogen to super cool their confection to –40 °F. Miles sadly not only had his bubbly buns flash frozen and beaten bright red by the paddle mixers, his leviathan lodged in the container’s auto extruder. He howled in agony as his tube snake was sucked through the icy dispensing cylinder. The operators were only able to disconnect the tube from their machine leaving the collar frozen around Miles’s wacked-about member. A clown dressed as a doctor, ‘helped’ the distraught naked boy by applying a deep heating balm all over his blistered buns, then on the tip of his maligned member.



Primrose staggered out from the stand, covered in goo, but now with her yummy bits licked clean, ran screaming for the bus. Miles followed howling in high pitch, holding his frozen collared honker with one hand, and clutching his bright red, baboon-like bottom, with the other, his hair a frozen shock.





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





Back at the ramshackle tented structure making up the Insanitarium, Mr. Fogler appeared with Alexandra Jameson. “Look who I found.” He announced.



Everyone was on a bench enjoying snack. All smiles, Mildred asked, “Alex! Where have you been? Please come have a seat and some of my ‘Cracker Jack.’”



“No, thank you, Millie, I really prefer to stand. I went back to dry off, and was… waylaid so to speak.”



“Just as I promised, I have returned you all to your students.” Mr. Fogler declared. “Please follow me,” he continued.



Annie ribbed Al with her elbow and whispered, “Psssttt, Ali... it’s the COCFOSTER and the BUSHYBERRY! They are young again.”



“Oh, Annie. What in the world are you....” he hushed back.



Annie insisted, “I recognize them from old photos on the walls at the Institute.”



The two stared in disbelief as the ‘adults’ moved through the entrance with the other chaperones, passing the elaborate sign reading: Experience the Insanitarium at your own Risk! Brave the Blow-Hole, and Falter thru the Follies for Everyone’s Unmentionables Fun for All!



None noticed the exit of the attraction was filled with seated spectators, seemingly waiting to see some kind of show.





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





Inside, Mr. Fogler escorted the group through a host of bizarre exhibits including the exotic, the occult, fetish, and downright weird. They saw the freak show, shrunken heads, a real cannibal, a nude woman floating in liquid, the completely pierced human pincushion, an alligator man, Siamese twins, the skeleton man, the talking head, and a bearded lady. As the entourage progressed, peculiar aromatics from braziers at every stop became more pronounced and soon everyone began to feel lightheaded. Suddenly an old dark man in a loincloth jumped in front of them and exhaled a stream of green gas. Clouds of the gas billowed, filling their chamber. Everyone became disoriented, as Mr. Fogler tried to restore order, muttering, “I should have ditched that darned djinn at the fair’s last stop...”



He announced, “This way everyone, to the exit”





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





In the fog, Regina became separated from the rest and when she waved her ticket before a clown, she was detoured into the Amazing Mirror Maze. Regina walked between, then through the looking glasses and was bedazzled at the light show before her. She stared at a sexy scene before her, played by ladies from the Temple of Temptation, dressed in only swaths of rich fabric. One remarkable lady beckoned and Regina approached her.



“Join us dear, on the Isle of Lesbos.” the woman said softly.



Regina became aroused, as she walked closer, entranced, until she stood before the woman.



“I’m Sappho,” the woman whispered as she leaned over and kissed Regina on the lips.



Startled by her amorous advance, Regina detected the scent of anise as she stepped back and touched her lips. Then the most erotic music began to play. Reg thought she recognized Nikki Idol’s The Devil in I.



Mesmerized and feeling sassy, she mounted a small stage around a pole, surrounded by mirrors. She ran her hands down her close-fitting dress, cupped her breasts thrust her gloved fingertips between her clenched thighs, and began to slowly sway with the song. Regina looked longingly at the ladies surrounding her stage of sorts, as they licked their lips in anticipation.



Regina, getting into the groove, bit her finger and pulled off her left glove, followed by the right one. She then squatted down on her heels, knees together, and presented her backside to Sappho.

Sappho’s delicate fingers barely touched the top of Regina’s zip before the whole straining closure burst wide open. Her bare backside was bisected only by her straining bra strap and her matching garter belt, delightfully framing her plump, pink, and unpantied bottom, deliciously on display. Regina gasped and slowly stood up, allowing her dress to drop. She cupped her massive mammaries and popped them from her overtaxed shelf bra, and stared down to see each nipple was now covered by a tasseled pastie.



“Go ahead my dear,” Sappho coaxed.



Regina, now wearing only her garter belt, heels, hose, and jewelry, began to caress her ass as she waved her chest and amazingly, the tassels began turning. Soon, they were spinning, and rapidly counter-rotating like the props of a Fairey Gannet, powered by an Armstrong-Siddeley Double Mamba! (Sorry, I couldn’t resist).



Regina began to stroke her now-sopping ruby-clad sn*tch rudely against the pole, lost moaning in her moment.



Just then though, she glimpsed through a gap in the reflecting panels, and Regina saw the smiling face of Al Roper, staring directly at her.



Regina’s near-boiling blood instantly turned to ice, as she screamed loud enough to break glass. Sadly, shattering glass is exactly what her shrieking did. With a CRASH! The entire wall collapsed in a shower of shards, and Regina Dubois was revealed in her glorious state of undress. Her stage was positioned right on the midway, a meter above ground. Dozens of fairgoers that had been watching her artfully obscured performance behind the smoked glass, stared with delight at her riotous reveal, now in the right there in the raw.



Regina could only muster a squeak as she stood frozen before her stunned audience. Everyone began to giggle to hear the audible series of ‘SLAPS’ as Regina’s hands flew about her ripe, knock-kneed nude body in a futile attempt to cover her tits, bush, and ass while she turned one way, then another. Her mouth formed a perfect ‘O’ as she stooped forward, knees still locked together, heels apart and toes pointed inward. She comically clutched her bulging boobs while her magnificent bare backside was pushed up and out, wriggling like poetry in motion. The audience exploded with a roar of approval!



As she looked about open-mouthed and dumbfounded, Regina never saw Sappho approach with a sly smile, wind up with her hand, while a clown simulated silent drum roll, and deliver a toe-curling spank on Reg’s trembling bare tushy. Her eyes bulged as her globes strained her garter belt’s straps, framing her magnificent derrière.



Regina yelped in shock and sprang forward, right off her dais to land hilariously astride the fair’s prize-winning butter cow, the centerpiece of the midway. Regina, literally riding bareback, gasped as her sizzling crimson cookie’s coiffure collided against the chilly unsalted creamery. She then reared back as her stimulated nipples SPROiiiNGed and launched their tassels halfway across the midway.



Reg stared at her stiffening bare nipples, then rocked forward and clutched her sweet cream steed’s neck, sensing an earth-shattering orgasm on her near-planning horizon, as her swollen tits slapped against the ice-cold butter, further stimulating her engorged teats.



It must have been all the cheering students and their camera flashes that released the provost from her second ribald reverie. She looked up in shock, realizing the decadent display she was delivering, shamelessly humping her buttery mount naked in front of everyone.



Abandoning her motto: Discretion is the better part of valor, the ruined provost decided to make a run for it. She let go and slid off with a shriek and a small squirt, as she gulped the fall air with one hand on her slippery red velvet crumpet, and the other arm squashed across her boobs, beat a hasty retreat for the gate. Her marvelous big, bare, greasy bottom, rolled in syncopation to the clicks her heels on the pavement as everyone waved farewell and took pictures of her well-gartered stockings rubbing, as she tried to keep her thighs clamped together tightly, while in flight.





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As everyone began to exit the Insanitarium, they passed a sign for the Blowhole Theater.



“I wonder what that is all about?” asked Millie, pointing at the seated audience, plus many Institute students standing around, as well as a camera crew from WENF.



Al and Annie led Mr. B over to the student section. “You’ll have a great view from here, sir.”



“A view of what?” he asked.



Cordelia shouted back, “It’s an old gag from Coney Island. Hold onto to your hemlines ladies, and follow me!” She was determined not to fall victim to this sophomoric humor and strode purposefully, hem in hand, toward the exit. Crazy calliope music filled the air, and a clown ran up and touched her tush with a shock rod. Jolted and disoriented, a sliding panel in the floor suddenly shifted and Cordelia lost her balance. Reaching for the railing to steady herself, she found the rail not fastened down, it wobbled wildly to and fro. Another shift of the floorboards caused her high heels to fly up from under her, and Cordelia demonstrated a classic Vaudevillian pratfall, as the watching audience clapped. She kicked her legs in the air, revealing under her hiked-up dress, a long-line pink panty girdle with lace leg cuffs, her silk stockings firmly gartered just above her knee



Screaming, “Do you know who I am?” Cordelia rolled over and clambered on all fours.



The dwarf scampered over and hauled her dress up and over her head, trying to pull it right off. Cordelia held on; her screams muffled by her dress. Remarkably, the agile and youthful Cordelia got back on her heels with the dwarf still tugging her dress off. They circled round and round, with the president beginning to get the upper hand.



The accomplice clown, slyly approached the stooped Delia, twisted in her own clothes, from the rear. He waved and smiled at the crowd mimicking spanking her with his prod. The crowd roared with approval. The clown stepped back and started to deliver swats to Cordelia’s panty girdled bottom. She yelped with rage at each blow, trying to turn away, but as she couldn't see, the clown simply danced around and delivered another spank.



By now, the dwarf had Cordelia’s dress off her back and bunched around her shoulders. Everyone giggled to see she wore a matching pink 1950s bullet bra.



Now the clown produced a huge pair of scissors and snipped them comically around Delia’s derrière to the delight of the crowd.



“What is he doing? Why is everyone laughing?” Cordelia squeaked; her head covered with her dress.



Her heart jumped into her throat, when she felt him take ahold of her panty girdle and unbutton the back flap of her drawers, baring her bottom.



“GAAAAHHHHH!!” she gurgled as the clown, with a “snip, snip, SNIP!” cut the entire seat out of her bottoms.



The Cockfoster's fit fanny, framing her delicious raw umber fur burger, was completely exposed while the clown waved at the audience and resumed her spanking.



The audience began to clap in time, while Cordelia shrieked, as the clown reddened her bare bottom.



Finally, her dress ripped free and the dwarf ran off with his prize. The mistreated school matron whipped around and stood up to see her assailant. She clutched her hands on her exposed and well-spanked buttocks, staring daggers at the clown, now wearing a sheepish grin.



Unbeknownst to her, the Dwarf motioned ‘quiet’ to the audience with his finger to his lips. As he crept up, and grabbed the back strap of Cordelia’s bra. “You wicked imp! Release me this instant!” she ordered, straining to watch him over her shoulder, as she was not about to turn her back on the clown!



“SNAP!” her front-loading brassiere broke and its cups popped apart revealing the most magnificent pair of breasts .... Cordelia stared down cross-eyed at her chest and gasped in disbelief to see her perky, youthful tits on display.



“Oh my! My... my Boobies!” but she couldn’t react because the dwarf, quick as a whistle, tied Cordelia’s hands behind her back while she still clutched her bare ass.



“As the school leader in charge here today, I demand you.............. Cordelia was cut off abruptly when the clown stuffed the seat of her panty girdle into her mouth and said, “You’re not in charge of anything anymore!”



Cordelia, bound, gagged, and ridiculed, with her tits and ass on display, shook her head in denial.



The clown then handed his shock prod to the dwarf and pulled off his bright reg clown nose. He inserted the nose between Cordelia’s protesting lips and sealed her mouth closed.



With a hilarious wind-up pantomime, the dwarf set the electric prod on ‘auto’ and shoved the stick between the lady president’s well presented, tight bared buns.



Unable to scream, Cordelia sprang straight up and gurgled as her tomato-face darkened to match the crimson ball gag stoppering her gob.



Cordelia elegantly restrained by her own bra and silenced with her own panty girdle, began running topless and bare bottomed, jumping wildly every fifteen seconds, when the rudely intruding shaft buzzed her keister. She herky-jerked from the Insanitarium, dancing like Saint Vidas, the penetrating prod bouncing behind her like a tail.



Millie rushed to help, but a jet of air from the floor blasted up directly beneath her heels not only arrested her movement, but caused her the shriek in alarm and throw her arms up in shock. The mischievous breezes caressed her nether regions, then propelled her dress, now looser fitting, skyward. The garment slithered up and right off the band leader, taking her brassiere with it, before landing in the hands of Al Roper. The stunned student stared at the dress in his hands, then looked over at the equally stunned Mildred Bushberry, standing center stage in her comical underwear. Millie wobbled on the shifting floor panels, struggling to maintain her balance on her tottering high heels, arms waving wildly. Atop her heels, her legs were clad in black RHT stockings with wide tops gripping Millie’s plump thighs. Her hosiery was held high by garter straps stretching from her black shaper girdle. This rode high on her full hips, and open bottomed, it was cut in the front to fantastically frame the top of her bushy blonde Beggin-Strip®. Around back, it cupped the curves of her bottom, but ended mid-cheek, leaving most of her ass uncovered, and free to wobble delightfully as she hopped about the Blow-Hole Theater. Sadly, Regina’s sheer now-overstretched panties were tangled around her thighs, leaving everything in the wind, so to say.



Everyone laughed to see her creamy bare tits flopping in the slipstream with her undone streaming hair, along with her bare bottom, straining garters, creamy thighs above her stocking tops, as well as her golden, woolly womanhood. Screaming in alarm, the Bushyberry tried with futility to cover her bare bits with her small hands. The floor stopped moving and she clamped a hand over her hooters, and another between her thighs. Mildred tried to flee, but a clown rushed up and pushed the electric prod against her unprotected posterior with a “zzZAP!” She howled and pitched forward, falling on her face. The camera from WENF zoomed in to see Mildred, mouth open in shock, with her tits pressing the floor planks. She then swung around to frame her elevated ass, all the way up, wriggling while her heels kicked the stage in frustration. In this humiliating humble position, she crawled from the theater, sobbing to see so many cheering the sight of her tipped up, tumescent tushy, pulsating and parted, and the fair-haired wet wonder glistening between her cheeks.



Alexandra began to lose her dress in a shower of buttons, with the garment billowing above her waist while she struggled to pull it down with one hand while the other held onto the bodice for dear life. With her lower half on display, everyone gasped to see her teeny bikini panties, atop her garter belt, white as snow, contrasting sharply with most of her bottom, not covered by the small triangular seat, a bright red color.



“What happened to you, Miss Jameson?” Annie shouted above the din.



“Let’s just say I was corrected...” Those wicked b*tches at the bridle club made me their pony girl for the whole afternoon, and horse-whipped my booty…. AAAHHHHAAAHHHH!!”



The clown had struck with his shock stick. She threw her hands up, and the remainders of her dress sailed skyward, dropping over a rafter, out of reach. Alex stared dumbly up for a moment, the deviant dwarf pulled her panties down to her stockinged knees. She gawked at her smiling students as she hunched forward and clapped her fingers over her pointed, bare breasts, nut-brown nipples, growing perkier by the moment.



Alex looked around, miserably hoping the floor would open and swallow her up, but her humiliation today was heading for new heights. While everyone hooted with laughter watching her sore buttocks, starkly framed by a brilliant white leather garter belt, straps straining across and imprinting her upthrust crimson cheeks. Her lower lip began to tremble, but before bursting into tears, Alexandra yelped as the dwarf smacked her blistered bottom squarely with a cream pie and screamed, “This should cool off your heated seat, honey!”



Alexandra gasped in shock to feel the icy confection was splattered all over, into, and between, her red hot hiney! The little man rubbed it all in for good measure, as she shrieked through a torrent of tears, “You horrible mini-monster... HOW DARE YOU?



As she stood there screaming at him, allowing everyone to point at her ebony panty hamster, tipped in icy cream that was plastered between her thighs and all through her crotch, she suddenly heard a voice that drained her fury like water draining from a sluice.



“Hey Mrs. Jameson, NICE FROSTED FUR PIE!”



Hysterical with embarrassment, she ran for the exit, still hugging her tits with both hands, her heels clicking. The crew from WENF getting tremendous footage of her hobbled stockinged legs shuffling awkwardly on her high heels due to her panties still around her knees. Her marvelous cheeks, painfully punished and plastered with pie, wobbled wondrously like peaches and cream in motion.



“Film at eleven!” Quipped the lead from WENF.





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When the last of the shamed chaperones shuffled away, the audience rushed after them, hoping the show was not over. Once outside, the weather had deteriorated into a very strange storm. Fair goers saw lightning flashing and heard thunder booming, as the violent winds shifted into rotation.



The pursuing student crowd cheered, despite the ominous weather, to see their school leaders looking so ridiculous:



First, they stared at their Dean of Students, Regina Dubois. Her statuesque and nearly nude figure glistened with butter. Expensive hairstyle ruined, she now ran gracelessly on her heels with her flaming red hair swinging in greasy ropes, slapping her face, tits, and shoulders. Her massive bare boobs jostled in syncopation with the generous globes of her broad bottom, set off so well by her garter belt. Its back strap and rear stocking straps dimpling her fleshy midsection as they strained to hold up her stockings. Up front, her neatly trimmed scarlet question mark of pubic fur was similarly slickened with oleo, as well her own personal emulsification, generated by this public humiliation. Regina howled above the storm as she slipped on her heels and crashed into the ‘Feed the Monkey’ booth. She regained her footing and continued to toward the exit, but now with a pair of jumbo bananas added to her ensemble; one shoved into her open mouth, the other wedged in her fiery womanhood, causing a series of sensuous sensations, Reg was long-longing for.



Next, they watched Miles’s mother, the domineering Alexandra running awkwardly, clutching her lowered panties around her knees, and with the other hand, grasping one bare breast. She bounced her bare bits to her audience’s delight in only her white garter belt, heels, and stockings. Alex then flashed her well-beaten bottom, dripping cream pie, as she fled the fair.



Millie sadly lost Regina’s panties, and ran for cover in only her girdle, hose, and heels. Her plump puppies and nearly-fat ass, rolled with the rhythm of the storm, as her arms pumped with her effort to escape her shameful situ.



Lastly, the students saw Cordelia, their now youthful, and not-so-feared school president, bounding, practically naked, hopping up with regularity. Despite her arms bound behind her back, Delia’s firm, and mouthwatering baseball-sized boobs barely wobbled while she ran. Likewise, her taught ass cheeks only jiggled when jolted by the probe penetrating her, discharging a blue flash.





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As everyone ran for the exit, the wind began whipping up skirts, dresses, and tugging at student clothing. The tempest soon divested all the Ivy Institute under graduates. Screams and shouting added to the storm as all were reduced to their regulation underwear. The girls skreiched to discover they were bouncing about in their uniform white bras and full-cut cotton panties, while the boys yelped, scampering for sanctuary in only their school-issue, white Y-front briefs.



Sheets of rain pelted the fleeing and nearly-naked fairgoers, as the cold droplets turned the students’ thin cotton undies semi-transparent; as well as tightened teats, and minimalized male members.



The all silently screamed, “We’ve GOT to GET OUT OF HERE! Back to the bus!



With the parking lot in sight, a panicked crush developed at the antique turnstile. As the wet, shivering students, wearing only their shoes and see-thru small clothes, pressed into the chutes of the exit area, the screaming of the embarrassed underwear-ing females and males intensified. All the exposed pupils found themselves rubbing together in a feverously rain-slicked, sexy crush. Embarrassed underwear-clad college kids howled to find themselves in a mortifying mosh pit, to the delight of the WENF crew hustling up from behind.



This ribald jam was generated by our four even more indecent instructors trying to push through the rusty turnstile all at once. The creaky gate had jammed, effectively caging the four near-naked female chaperones, in front of everyone trying to get out.



“Hey, ONE-AT-A-TIME!” Regina screamed, gurgling around the banana filling her mouth, finding herself wedged with Cordelia, while Mildred was stuck with up against Alexandra in the devious departure device. All four full-figured females were compressed into a space for one, as the rain ruined their makeup and what was left of their hairstyles. The cold metal bars pressed on naked torsos, thighs, legs, and shoulders, allowing breasts to wobble above and below, bare bottoms to wriggle in between, and furry fun spots to be delightfully displayed.



With a “SNAP, CRACKLE and POP,” the shock rod rogering Cordelia contacted the turnstile, electrifying the bars of the lady birds' ersatz cage.


Sparks arced across all their erroneous zones , generating a series of squeals, gasps, moans, and grunts, as the entangled and well lubricated lecturers began to rub themselves into an erotic fantastic foursome. Writhing within the bars, Regina pushed the banana in her mouth directly into Mildred’s gasping gob. Their widely parted lips met as they stared at the other, wide-eyed in shock, both devouring the phallic fruit.


Alexandra’s pied and punished bottom lined up and pressed against Regina’s lower wedged banana. Alex shook her head in refusal, realizing what was about to happen, then emitted a high-pitched squeal as the firm fruit was forced in. Alex gulped for air, then mouthed a bar of the turnstile to feel so inadvertently violated, and now spit-roasted. Alexandra gurgled as she cummed a gusher right there.


Cordelia squirmed then shifted, as the free end of the rod rogering her, popped between Millie’s plump cheeks. Mildred’s mouth popped open in surprise, and with a final ‘ZAP,’ the rod released its last load. Cordelia’s eyes bugged above her ball gag to feel the rod drive deeper home, and Millie’s warm plump cheeks press against her own chilled, bisected bottom. Both orgasmed loudly as Cordelia gasped through her gag in denial, “I am NOT a LESBIAN!”


Far too late, Ernest Bastermats pushed his way to the front and began to ‘assist’ the dewy, dis-dressed dames. Unfortunately, his clumsy efforts only resulted in only more bawdy chaos for the brought-off beauties. As the four shrieked, Mr. B managed to pinch both of Cordelia’s beckoning rock-hard nipples, run his fingers through the creamy pie filling Alexandra’s cleft, and then plant them in her mouth, gulping in protest, while his other hand clutched Regina’s moist sex.


A team of clowns arrived to assist the carneys with the coital clog. They rudely pushed and prodded to no effect before screaming, “MORE LUBE!” In response, a carney ran up with a wagon grease bucket with a large brush from a circus trailer. He began scrubbing all the undone instructors with stiff bristles; daubing tightened teats, lubing furred sn*tches, and gliding right up the cracks of plump bottoms, before plunging the entire brush head into each of their spluttering mouths.




Back on the Bus




The turnstile groaned, then whirled free, flinging the naked teachers and administrators right out into the parking lot. As they stumbled about in the storm, students streamed to the shelter of the bus. After the moshing, some of the bustier babes were missing their brassieres, others girls had their panties removed, and more than a few well-endowed boys were completely naked, save for their shoes.


With an enormous crashing noise, the entire carnival was torn apart and pulled up into the enormous funnel cloud swirling above.


The bus driver, Mr. Scuttle, fired up the engine as the soaked students, both excited and embarrassed, filled the seats. The goo-covered Primrose and flash-frozen Miles were loaded prostrate in the back, through the emergency exit, each filling a whole seat each.


Everyone else, despite being stripped to their undies or even less, laughed to see their stuffy-now-shamed chaperones, forced to stand in the front of the bus.


Mildred clutched her now-naked and ball-gagged matron, Cordelia, firmly around her tight ass, their four boobs crushed together, as they both blinked owlishly at their students, bewildered by their debasement.


Alexandra, who couldn’t dream of sitting for a week, rubbed her raw bottom with both hands as she hopped up and down, while her boobies bounced freely and her fur pie and ice cream jiggled just like a proper dessert should.


Regina’s lips, upper and nether, still mouthed the two well-lodged bananas, as she squashed her marvelous melons with one hand, and cupped her skewered scarlet sn*tch with the other. Her bass-size dimpled derriere quivered. She could only peer at her pupils despondently, blinking and so wishing the ground would open and swallow her up, at the smiling faces staring, laughing, and pointing at her.


Fred popped the vehicle into gear, and headed out of the lot, as the drenched regent riders, standing starkers up front, were forced give another treasure for the oglers to glimpse, in order to grasp the straps hanging from the roof and keep their wet high-heeled footing.


Al and Annie cleverly observed and shouted, “Look everyone, a cooter in every color!”


Eight boobies wobbled, four bottoms shivered, and two bananas bobbed, as the miserable and mortified missuses managed with their only free hands to clamp their calescent clams, covered in bushes of bronze, black, blonde, and blaze orange!




Epilogue




Miles Jameson, now known as the planked Priapus, was carried to the bus on a board, with his frozen phallus pointed skyward. For weeks he could not have an erection without experiencing excruciating pain. This was unfortunate, because he would typically pop a boner at the flip of a cheerleader’s skirt.


Primrose Dubois had to undergo the tortuous taffy pulling treatment. Every follicle of hair the poor girl had, was painfully plucked and her skin was dyed a bright yellow. When she then saw herself nude in the hospital mirrors, she screamed: “OMG!!!! I look like a freaking alien!!!”


Mildred Bushyberry couldn’t convince the band members she was their transformed teacher and had to suffer the silly initiations, endured by freshmen band members, at the hands of upperclassmen. The first test was fifty spanks across her bare fat bootie cheeks with the band leader’s mace, while she was mic’d up, on the fifty-yard line during homecoming’s halftime!


Alexandra Jameson, was forced to twice-daily, lie across the lap of her school-age daughter Genevieve, bottom bared, while Gen applied liniment to her mom’s maligned moons. Miles would frequently peep in through the door’s keyhole and giggle at the spectacle, while Alex bit her lip.


Cordelia Cockfoster finally had her ball and panty gag removed by Millie aboard the bus, but could not restore order, as she was still bound topless and bottomless on her heels, mincing in frustration in her old fashioned stockings.


Although Regina Dubois didn’t exactly chomp on a churro, she did bite a pair of big bananas, naked and ashamed, and loudly orgasm before her Institute’s entire matriculated student body. The students’ laugher would not subside from her memory.


Al and Annie led ribald pub songs aboard the bus, all the way back to the Ivy Industrial Institute, highlighting the denouement of their pompous provost, and their thoroughly shamed chaperones!