PART 35
The sight of the ruined cake, and her leering husband was too much for the amply-proportioned Mrs. Entwhislte. She grabbed the hapless superheroine by the ear with one hand, and landed a loud, hard spank on the wincing Glamour Girl’s quivering, naked butt with the other.
‘Harlot! Strumpet!’.
Spank!
‘Yeeooww! Oooowwww!’
‘Ruining my cake!’
Spank!
‘Ooouch’.
This was too much. Here she was, a glamorous supurheroine being spanked in public like a naughty child!
The audience of course was loving this, as Mrs. Entwhistle continued to treat the haughty Glamour Girl like an errant juvenile, pulling her by the ear while paddling her behind.
‘Trying to turn my husband’s eyes…’
Glamour Girl was tempted to say that the average sheep would turn her husband’s eyes considering what his wife was like, but yelped again instead as another hard spank was delivered to her reddening derriere.
‘Ooow! Yeouch!’
These were extremely hard spanks, delivered with all the force of her 300 pound frame, on the already tender Glamour Girl behind.
‘wh*r*!’
Spank!
‘Yeeeoweee!’
‘And cover yourself up’, she yelled, pulling poor Glamour Girl by the ear towards her washing-line, and grabbing a pair of her own, voluminous, pink bloomers.
Glamour Girl felt herself being hoisted into the air, her legs being threaded through the ridiculous bloomer leg-holes, then found herself being propelled through the gap in the fence.
‘And don’t come back!’, yelled Mrs. Enwhistle, delivering one last almighty whack to the pink-bloomered bottom.
‘Ooooow!’, she yelped again, as she stood in front of the cheering, laughing spectators, dressed in the humiliating pink bloomers. And to think, she had taunted Stephanie about wearing granny panties.
‘You fat cow!’, Glamour Girl thundered, turning and making a rude gesture, knowing that she could easily outrun the portly Entwhistle. But she had forgotten that the bloomers were several dozen sizes too large for her, and as she turned again, they fell in a large pink puddle to her ankles.
‘Oh no!’, she cried again, as she once more flashed her cake and paint spattered pussy to the crowd.
She bent quickly to retrieve the underwear. Little Johnny, though, was determined to avenge this insult.
‘Don’t worry – I’ll get her mommy!’
His favourite birthday present that morning had been a small air pistol, and he was a crack-shot. As Glamour Girl bent down to pull up the bloomers, her wonderfully contoured, gorgeous bubble-butt proved an irresistable target.
‘Yeeeeeooowww!’, she yelped as the small slug stung her left ass-cheek to more laughter from the audience.
She quickly pulled the bloomers up. They were so large that she was easily able to cover her breasts with the waist-band, even though the end of the bloomer legs were still at her knees.
Another slug smacked her right ass-cheek, and with a yelp, and rubbing her behind with one hand while holding up the humiliating bloomers over her tits with the other, she ran for the ‘Glamour Girl’ caravan, yelling ‘PAULA!’ as she went, the jeers of the on-lookers ringing in her ears, one last slug stinging her pink-bloomered butt, making her leap as she ran.
((Still only about halfway through what SHAW wrote.))
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