[FLP00]

"No! Nooo!" she screamed, and then she turned around. The five women had entered into the alley too and now they were approaching Rachel with devilish smiles in their faces. Rachel was cornered again, and this time the women were really angry. Swallowing her big pride, Rachel resorted to the only thing she could do now; begging.

"Please, let me go!" she cried, placing her palms together. "Yeah, you're right; those lotions were a scam. But if you let me go I'll give you the real ones for free! They're the most expensive ones, the ones that celebrities use!"

"I thought that the ones that you gave us were the high caliber ones" said the mother, with obvious disgust in her voice. "You have no morals. You only care about the money, right?"

She had to make them chill. How? She didn't know better than begging. Rachel wasn't used to make this kind of scenes, so she didn't know how things would turn out in the end. She didn't remember to feel that frightened in her life; the uncomfortable sensation in her guts had got worse, up to the point of being almost unbearable. The daughter close the distance and faced Rachel.

"So... you will give those lotions for free?" she asked, seemingly genuine. Rachel started to relax a bit. Maybe there was a solution... maybe. Her ego had been bruised and she would need some time to get over this, but if she managed to end things there that would be all. Rachel nodded at the daughter's question.

"Alright" she said. The daughter opened her purse and took from it some beauty products; the same that Rachel used to sell.

"But first... we'll test them in you first. Get her girls!"

"No, no! Leave me alone!" screamed a frightened Rachel right when the other four women grabbed her by her torso and arms. She struggled to set herself free, but all her efforts were in vain. This was the most humiliating moment of her life; nobody had ever done to her anything even remotely similar to this. That lack of knowledge about the feelings a person usually had in situations like this fueled her fear even more; the fear of the unknown. The daughter grabbed Rachel's chin, retaining her head.

"Oh, stop complaining!" she said. "You're going to look very pretty when we're done with you."

Being said that, she applied a huge amount of facial lotion in Rachel's cute face. The latter reacted with a closed-eyes grimace, like somebody had put a slice of lemon in her mouth. The daughter then passed her open palm all over Rachel's contracted face, painting it in white. The other women were laughing at the scene while maintaining a grip on her. Rachel spat a bit of lotion that had gotten into her mouth, and she finally opened her eyes. The daughter was looking at her with a big smile of satistied fury in her face. She had now a lipstick in her hand.

"Wow, you're looking gorgeous!" she ironized "Some lipstick will make wonders to that cute face of yours."

Rachel clenched her lips instinctively when the daughter grabbed her chin one more time and applied the lipstick carelessly to her lips. She put a lot of it, like little girls trying to imitate their olders sisters after sneakingly taking their lipsticks. This was another big blow to Rachel's ego; nobody in her life had ever done anything like this to her. And it didn't feel good at all! Suddenly, she felt small, like a little girl again, powerless. Those women were going to humiliate her as long as they pleased, and there was nothing that she could do to stop them.

The daughter had completely painted Rachel's lips and a good portion of the skin that surrounded them. The women laughed even more seeing Rachel's painted face. Rachel had discovered something new for her; laughter from others could hurt, and they hurt a lot. They made her feel even smaller. The next thing the daughter pulled from her purse was an eye shadow brush. Based on those very recent previous make up experiences, Rachel didn't have to think too much before she guesses what she was going to do to her.

"Now it's the turn of those pretty eyes of yours!" she claimed, and sooner than Rachel expected, she was applying the eye shadow to her closed eye lids. With her eyes closed, she could only hear what was happening around her.

"Ha, ha, ha! She looks like an idiot..."

"This will teach her!"

"You aren't so smart now, right?"

"You pathetic liar!"

Finally, she felt the brush being removed from her face. She was so terrified that she didn't dare to open her eyes again, afraid of discovering what would be the next thing that they would do to her. Then, she heard the daughter's voice commanding her to open her eyes and Rachel did it. They had placed a little hand mirror in front of her face, and she could see the results of that bizarre make-up session; her chin, cheeks and forehead were completely white. There was even some bits of lotion in her black hair. Her lips were completely covered in bright red lipstick and so were part of her chin and her cheeks. And the daughter had put so much eye shadow on her that her eyes looked like the eyes of a raccoon. The four women were laughing their asses off while Rachel felt so humiliated that she was almost to the point of tears.

"Oh, don't feel weird, that make-up suits you well!" said the 40-something woman with bandaids in her face. "The best make-up for a b*tch like you!"

The other women laughed one more time. Rachel was devastated but, at the same time, relieved. At least she didn't have the uncertainty of not knowing what those women would do to her. She would have to walk home looking like an aspiring clown who had put his make-up while drunk. People would snicker at her, and this time they would laugh. She didn't look powerful, nor superior; she looked pathetic. But at least it was over.

"Fortunately for you, we haven't stained that pretty skirt of yours" said the mother. "It looks very expensive."

It was a meaningless comment, only one of all those nasty remarks that they had told her that afternoon. But it had the effect of a bomb. An awkward silence covered the five women -and their victim. Rachel realized, with horror in her heart, that the women were seriously considering the possibility of one last humiliation. Something referred to her skirt.

"We can..." started the daughter, and then she looked at the other women. The five started to smile maliciously. "Yes, we could do it. It would be a nice touch..."

"Do what?" asked the skinny woman. She was eager to know what the next move would be. Then, the daughter looked at Rachel again, looking more evil than ever.

"We can take her skirt off. Right here" she finally said. Rachel's eyes opened greatly and the awful sensation in her tummy got back. They weren't going to do that, she thought. It would be going too far... Shit, they would be risking criminal charges if they did; you can't strip a person of their clothes by force. They only wanted to scare her a little more. Just to have a little fun with her, that was all. It had to be, right?

"Yes!" screamed the other four women at unison, bringing Rachel back to reality; they were going indeed to take her skirt off. They had been surrounding Rachel all the time, and now they grabbed her again. Rachel's heart started to beat at fast rate. She was retainied again by her torso and arms, and she lost the control over her fear.

"No! No! Please, don't take my skirt off! Pleeeeease!" she begged, pathetically, but it was completely in vain. The daughter placed herself behind a scared Rachel and, after crouching down, put her hand in the zipped of her tight dark red skirt.

"Let's make her go back home in her underwear!" she claimed, making everybody minus Rachel laugh. She could not even imagine how she could deal with the embarrassment of being in the middle of her street, far from home, in her undies. Thinking about it was already unbearable. She remembered those awful dreams in which she was in front of a large audience wearing only her underwear. Those people laughing and pointing their fingers at her, making Rachel feel too vulnerable and defenseless. The guffaws echoes used to last even for a few seconds after she woke up. But now it was going to happen for real; she wouldn't experience the relief of waking up from a bad dream. It was really happening to her! Then, Rachel felt the daughter unzipping her skirt over her butt and this made her react. She started to struggle between the women's grip.

"No! No! Please, no! Let me go!" she yelled, but her tormentors wouldn't listen to her. Rachel's body was moving frantically in a desperate effort to dissuade the women from removing her skirt. But the daughter grabbed Rachel's hips, with force.

"You better stop moving!" she hissed between her teeth, furiously. And then, since she had unzipped Rachel's skirt, grabbed both sides of the garment and gave it a strong tug downwards.

"Oh!" muttered Rachel, feeling how her skirt went down to her knees and feeling the fresh air in her now bare thighs too. Those two stimulus made her clasp her knees together and to bend over a bit, embarrased. The waistband of her skirt had got caught with the top of her high boots and the hem of her skirt was grazing the ground, hiding Rachel's feet. That added to the state of her face made her look ridiculous.

Meanwhile, the daughter had her face at less of a foot from Rachel's big ass, and was the first one seeing what Rachel was wearing under her skirt. It was a tight pair of white high cut panties, with a pattern of little black polka-dots. The front panel of the panties had two sections in the both upper sides made of fine see-thru fabric, in which the polka-dotted pattern was embroidered. The outer borders of the see-thru sections were made of black lace. The triangled-shaped middle part of the front panel was made of the same opaque fabric than the seat of the panties, and had the same polka-dotted pattern. The last detail of Rachel's panties was the cute little white bow on the waistband, right under Rachel's belly button.

The daughter laughed while staring at Rachel's big panty-clad buttocks. That sexy tight-fitting underwear would make a skirtless woman to attract even more attention, thus enhancing Rachel's humiliation. That spoiled girl was in for a very long afternoon.

"Look at her!" yelled the daughter. "She likes to wear pretty panties! Isn't that lovely?"

"Let's finish taking her skirt off" said the mother, startling Rachel again. Having her skirt pulled down in order to put her down was bad, but having it completely taken off... that was too much. One more time, Rachel struggled again, yelling for an aid that wouldn't come. In a desperate effort to retain her skirt she crouched down into a human ball. Two of the women were still grabbing her arms and the third one that was holding her torso got dragged down with Rachel.

"No, please! Let me keep my skirt, please! I'll die from the embarrassment!" she begged, one more time. "Pleeeeeease!!!!"

"Make her sit on the ground and lift her legs" commanded the daughter to the other four women. "This way we can take off her skirt."

While Rachel kept whinning, crying and begging, they forced her to sit on her ass and then the daughter grabbed the hem of Rachel's dark red skirt. Rachel tried to extend her arms to grab her skirt, preventing the daughter from taking it off, but the other women were retaining her arms. Finally, the skirt came out of her feet. It was official; Rachel was now skirtless in the middle of the street. Waist down, she only had her boots and her panties. She stood back to her feet under the cruel laughs of those five avenged women, who were pointing their fingers to Rachel's panty-clad pelvic area. It was horrible. She felt like a little girl being bullied in the playground, with all her classmates mocking her ruthlessly.

"Did you forget something?" asks the daughter, mocking Rachel while waving her skirt in her hands. Rachel felt defeated; she thought that the make-up prank was horrible at first, but that was because she was still some minutes away from knowing what 'horrible humiliation' really meant. Getting back home in her underwear seemed to her a feat as soul-draining as climbing the Mt. Everest now.

"White panties... they say that only good girls wear white panties. I guess you're some kind of exception." said the skinny woman, and this comment made the other women chuckle. Rachel put her thigs together and covered her crotch with her hands, a classic embarrassed gesture. She had completely forgotten what they had done to her face; she had bigger concerns to care about now.

"Are those panties really tight, or is because her ass is fat?" asked the bandaid woman, crushing Rachel's ego. It was true that her panties were snug-fitting, but since they were high cut style, the leg apertures were so ample that reached almost the waistband of her panties. Since such waistband reached almost the belly button level, that meant that the leg apertures would expose part of her wide hips. That, combined with the fact that high cut panties have a large seat, made her ass look really big. Her ass was big, but not fat, in Rachel's opinion about herself. It had be true, because nobody had called her 'fat' before... right?

"I'll tell you what are you going to do now" said the daughter, playfully waving Rachel's lost skirt. "You're going to walk out of this alley and go back home in your underwear. It's going to be a show for all the people you'll bump into in your way home, especially with that big ass of yours and those sexy huge panties!" she chuckled at this. Rachel, having lost any vestige of pride that she may had, just kneeled down and placed the palms of her hands together, crossing the fingers of both hands.

"No, no, not that, please!!" she begged, her voice shaking in fear. She looked pathetic begging like that, on her knees with her face completely painted, and wearing her dark green tight turtle neck sweater, her white panties and her black boots. She was the personification of humiliation. "I'll do whatever you want, but please! Let me have my skirt back on! I've learned my lesson, I swear!"

The five women were surrounding the pathetic Rachel, pointing their fingers at her and laughing. But Rachel, too scared by the idea of being skirtless in public, kept begging and putting herself down, which was even funnier to the women.

"All you are right! I'm a spoiled, pathetic brat who deserves to be humiliated! And yes... my butt is fat!" Some tears started to flood Rachel's green eyes. Humiliation was the most bitter medicine she had ever tasted. And she was receiving an extreme dose of it. But she solved that no matter what, she would not cry. This didn't have anything to do with some sense of pride or principle; what would these women do to her if they saw her crying? The possibility of they becoming even more ruthless was quite real.

"Please, I'm begging to all you!" Rachel kept saying, still on her knees. "I wronged all you and I deserved what you've done to me today. I'm really sorry! What I did was a henious thing, and I promise to all you that I'll never do something like that again! Please... I'm sure that you're good forgiving people..."

Finally, the daughter stopped swinging Rachel's skirt and looked at her. She seemed meditative. After some seconds she slowly walked towards Rachel and placed herself in front oh her. Rachel, being on her knees, looked like some kind of penitent devotee.

"On your feet" commanded the daughter, with soft neutral voice. Rachel did, as fast as she could, but looking at the ground; she didn't dare to look anybody to their eyes, not while feeling so inferior at least. If she tried she would probably lose the control of her emotions and cry. The daughter then placed her hand in Rachel's chin and gently lifted her head.

"Look at me" she whispered. Embarrassed as she was, Rachel experienced some brief, but intense hope. The daughter's facial expression looked more relaxed now; she may be forgiven after all. Rachel felt like having expiated all the sins of her life. Very few thing could be worse that having your face painted like a clown's and having your skirt forcibly removed. The daughter was still looking at her. Then, she spoke;

"Get out of this alley... now" she commanded again, in the same soft voice, which crushed Rachel's hopes of retrieving her skirt. "If you don't, we'll keep humiliating you here" she looked down to Rachel's crotch and then looked at her eyes again. "We may decide to take those cute panties and put them at the top of a flagpole. So... it's up to you. What's your choice?"

Rachel's face was a poem. Having her hope raised only to drop it to the ground again was too painful. But that pain didn't last for too long; the fear of having to confront the world in her underwear surpassed it greatly. She was about to beg again, but then the daughter spoke again before she could do it.

"Twenty seconds. That's the time you have to leave this alley. Tick, tack, tick, tack..." she muttered, in that soft voice that now sounded menacing to Rachel. She walked to the end of the alley, with her head low, furious and humiliated at the same time. It was so unfair. She finally reached the corner and looked outside, only her upper body sticking out; while the street wasn't too crowded, there was quite a lot of people. That wasn't going to be easy at all, and Rachel felt the tears struggling to get out of her eyes again. But then the daughter spoke again.

"Eight... seven... six... five..."

This made Rachel taking her final decision; Being in the middle of the street with no skirt on was horrible, but being in the middle of the street with no skirt and no panties on would be just... well, fucking horrible. It wasn't really a tough choice if you thought about it. Closing her eyes and clenching her teeth, Rachel dared to take the first step outside the alley... and then the second... and a third... all this while hearing the laughter of the five women. They were laughing so hard that sounded like a bunch of hyenas.


End of part 3.