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Superhero fiction by Shaw
I'm hoping to develop this thread to address the many Superhero stories by SHAW (classic author of the ENF, Hot Buns, and Wet and Messy Genre). I'll be adding illustrations and there will be minor edits to the stories to match the work I'm doing with them, although for many things I've gone to great lengths to remain faithful to the text. If I reach the end of the (around 14) stories Shaw wrote about the misfortunes of superheroines Glamor Girl and Power Princess, then I'll start posting the 4 long stories I've written as a sequel, where an even at a museum might give them a chance to get revenge on their nemesis, Pussy Whip...but there will be plenty of casualties of the humiliating-but-not-requiring-medical-attention variety. What happens in the sequel? I don't know yet, plenty is written, but the plot continues.
First of all, my Glamor Girl character looks a bit different. The main point is that she's supposed to be extremely buxom on both top and bottom, and my character looks a little like a gorgeously buxom and wildly popular model I admire. Many of you will get who I mean when the first images appear. The model and the character have personalities in no way similar, and any resemblance is merely meant to embody the highest ideals of beauty I can imagine. Other changes make it more possible to turn out good images (if there was a setting I couldn't pull off exactly right, for example), and only a few are my personal quarks (a couple of m/f scenes with minor characters are 'improved' IMHO by making them f/f).
I've been very busy lately, but the first installment is nearly ready to go. I doubt these images will also be able to be seen on my deviantart (at least the best ones) because, although nothing in them violates the ToS here (no watersports, forcible sex, etc) several do violate DA's ToS (genitals not just exposed, but looking 'open' due to the pose, toys in use, etc.)
Why this early disclaimer? 1) I'm excited to get this project up and running 2) I want to warn purists of the changes I had to make if I was going to make illustrations for these, my favorite stories in the genre.
Cat Up A Tree, Or Pussy In Peril by Shaw (2000)
One of the Superheroines that PussyWhip and the Bionic Bimbo detested most was 'Glamour Girl'.
'Glamour Girl' was a vain, arrogant model, who also liked to pose as a Superheroine. She owned her own fashion label, so was able to model a whole range of clothes, as she made her public appearances in a variety of outfits, generating huge amounts of free publicity and sales. She also had her own line of 'Glamour Girl' lingerie which particularly annoyed PussyWhip, who owned her own underwear factory. Though athletic and strong enough to be a Superheroine, beneath the public spirited façade was a calculating, publicity-hungry b*tch. She employed a PR agent, Paula, to ensure that all her exploits received maximum publicity. The dark-haired Paula was beautiful in her own right, but 'Glamour Girl' always insisted that she dress down. 'Glamour Girl' was not about to have the limelight taken from her by her own PR agent.
'Glamour Girl' was at the City Hall, handing out 'Glamour Girl Certificates' to young schoolchildren whose deeds had most exemplified the fine, crime-fighting work that 'Glamour Girl' liked to pretend to epitomise. As this was a civic duty, 'Glamour Girl' was not dressed in her crime-fighters outfit, but a tight, blue business suit that she knew would subsequently rocket in sales because she had modelled it. If 'Glamour Girl' was a b*tch, she was a very beautiful one. Long, chestnut hair cascaded to her shoulders. Her beautiful face was always impeccably made-up, though the slightly up-turned nose did hint at her haughty nature. Her full, large breasts stuck out proudly before her, straining against her white blouse. Her legs were shapely, strong, and very long - 'Glamour Girl' was nearly six-foot in height. She was particularly proud of her perfect, curvy rear-end, and had designed this particular suit because it clung so tightly to her firm, round ass-cheeks. She smiled superciliously to the cameras as she bent down to award the certificates, happy that her gorgeous posterior was the real centre of attention. She patted the children's heads, then turned to Paula, speaking through clenched teeth.
'How many more of these little monsters have I to award certificates to?'
'Nearly finished', said Paula wearily. If the pay was not so good, she would have told 'Glamour Girl' long ago where to stick her job. As it was, she had to suffer many insults, and, of course, had to wear very uninspiring clothes, so as not to compete with madam.
'Are they getting plenty of pictures of the dress?'
'Yes. It's a sensation'.
'I've a new 'Glamour Girl' crime-fighter outfit I want to debut. No jobs for 'Glamour Girl' come up yet today? No wrongs to right?'
'Not a thing yet', replied Paula. PussyWhip had actually instructed all the city's villains to take the day off so that she could control 'Glamour Girl' crime-fighting for the afternoon.
Just then, one of the PussyPets, dressed as a policewoman, whispered something into Paula's ear. Paul turned to the preening, posing 'Glamour Girl'.
'There is a job for you on 48th Street. I'm afraid it's not very exciting'
'Don't worry. I'll make it exciting. Just be sure all the gentlemen of the press are fully briefed. I want maximum exposure of my new crime-fighting outfit'
The media entourage made their way to the address given. 'Glamour Girl' generated a lot of newspaper sales, but they were no more enamoured of her than Paula was. But they had to go along with it, though they knew it was usually no more than a glorified fashion-shoot.
They were all gathered underneath a tree. When 'Glamour Girl' judged the moment to be right, she came running over to the tree, then stood with her arms akimbo, while the press photographed the new outfit. It was stunning. The top was a light blue tube top with the 'Glamour Girl' logo across the chest in yellow. It was so tight that you could clearly see her prominent nipples and the swelling outline of her breasts. Her midriff was bare. She wore her traditional blue tights, and skimpy read briefs over the top of them. As she slowly turned to give a rear-view, every man in eyesight gasped at how sensually the skimpy read briefs and tights clung to, and accentuated, her butt-cheeks.
'Glamour Girl' turned back round, happy that the new design had obviously had the desired effect.
'Now - what seems to the problem?', she asked, hands still on her hips, tits jutting out proudly.
'This little girl's cat has got stuck in the tree'.
It was PussyWhip who had spoken, dressed in her black leather cat-suit, which also clung tightly to her body, showing off every curve. The cameras flashed again, as PussyWhip smiled sweetly at 'Glamour Girl', tussling the little girl's hair. (The girl in fact had been trying to tie a can to the cat's tail, but for a large ice-cream she was prepared to pretend that the cat was her dear pet).
'Glamour Girl' scowled. This b*tch was upstaging her in that cat-suit.
'Well, well, we meet again PussyWhip.' said 'Glamour Girl' archly. 'Remember our last meeting. I had to hog-tie you and your intellectually challenged partner in crime outside a Jeweller's Shop. Pity it was raining so hard at the time - I felt quite sorry for the both of you, having to lie in that muddy puddle! I see you've had the cat-suit cleaned since then'
'Glamour Girl' beamed gleefully as she reminded PussyWhip, and the press, about that humiliating event, though it just served to increase PussyWhip's anticipation of what was about to transpire.
'And where is the Bionic Bimbo?' continued 'Glamour Girl'. 'Letting her costume out a bit so that it fits her, no doubt'.
In fact the invisible Bionic Bimbo was standing beside PussyWhip, enraged at this slur on her figure, which was, in fairness, on the voluptuous side.
'Never mind that, 'Glamour Girl', what are you going to do about this little girl's cat? Some workmen were digging a trench, and the noise of the drill scared the cat up the tree'
The half-dug trench ran to the back of the tree, and the workmen's little yellow and white tent lay empty.
'Glamour Girl' turned to Paula.
'Is this really the best you could do', she hissed. 'A cat, stuck in a tree! It's not really a job worthy of 'Glamour Girl', is it, you stupid cow'.
Paula contained her anger at this outburst.
'You wanted to debut the costume. The press is here. It's going to look bad if you don't rescue that little girl's cat'.
'Glamour Girl' turned resignedly to the gathering once more, and decided to make the best of it.
'Of course I'll save your cat for you, little girl', she said, sounding courageous.
As she spoke, the Bionic Bimbo crept behind her, and carefully ran a razor blade down the back of the tights and red briefs, as the unsuspecting 'Glamour Girl' glowed in the cheers of the crowd.
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'Glamour Girl' turned to the tree. The cat was not very high up, and the branches were thick and plentiful. This would be easy. With an athletic bound, 'Glamour Girl' leapt, grabbed a branch, and began to haul herself on to it. Kneeling on the branch, with her back to the crowd, she leant forward and grabbed the cat. As she did so, the audience gasped to see that the tights and briefs had apparently split up the back, and 'Glamour Girl' was unwittingly giving everyone a clear, back view of her own juicy pink slit. Still leaning forward, clutching the cat, she turned her head round and smiled for the photographers.
'Are you getting this boys?', she shouted, as the photographers began to gleefully snap away. PussyWhip, and the invisible Bionic Bimbo, were in stitches, as Paula tried to attract her employer's attention.
'Not now, you idiot', barked the unsuspecting 'Glamour Girl', adjusting herself slightly, vainly making sure her ass was displayed prominently for the press, unaware that she was giving an even better view of her naked rear-end and succulent pussy-lips.
'Make sure you get a good close-up of the pussy', she shouted, oblivious to the sniggers that emanated from the audience. 'Would you like me to give it a stroke?'
She stroked her hand through the fur, then turned to face the clicking cameras again.
'Yugh! It's a bit smelly actually', she said, continuing to wiggle her exposed bottom and pussy. The cat was rather mangy, and under-nourished looking. 'What it needs is a good wash and something hot inside it' she announced.
This was too much. The roars of laughter rang round her, and 'Glamour Girl' began to suspect that something was amiss. She looked down to see Paula frantically pointing to her own bottom. 'Glamour Girl' tentatively put one hand behind her, and was mortified to feel her bare ass where she supposed her briefs to be.
'Oh God!', she shrieked, letting go the cat, sitting up, and putting both hands to her posterior, as the gazing public continued to laugh and cheer. The sudden movement caused her to lose her balance, and she toppled off the tree.
'Nooooo!' she yelled, as she landed painfully on her exposed rump, tearing her tights and briefs further, her wide-open legs giving another glimpse of the her pussy. Jumping to her feet, covering her ass with one hand, and her pussy with the other, her face as red as her now crotchless briefs, she looked round frantically for somewhere to hide.
'Quickly, the workmen's tent', said Paula, inwardly laughing hysterically at the sight of the stuck-up 'Glamour Girl' being so terribly embarrassed. Still clutching her nether regions, she sprinted, gazelle-like, to the tent, the laughter from the on-lookers still ringing her burning ears.
Inside the tent, she surveyed the damage to her costume while berating the long-suffering Paula. As well as the tears to her tights and briefs, she had torn the boob-tube slightly at the back.
'Why didn't you do something, you idiot!', she snapped. 'Oh my god! I can't believe it! Perched on a tree… wiggling my fanny about to the whole world… telling them to get a picture of my pussy … Oh God!'
'Glamour Girl' was mortified as she remembered all she had said.
'Make sure you get these pictures from these guys. I'm not having my pussy plastered all over the tabloids'.
'At least the tube top didn't rip off, though it did tear a little at the back', said Paula (frankly a bit disappointed).
'Oh well, then that's okay', snarled 'Glamour Girl'. 'The world and his wife gets to oggle my pussy, but not my tits. Well they're not going to either. Have you got a safety-pin?'
Paula searched the contents of her copious bag, where she kept an assortment of special 'Glamour Girl' devices, and other items for emergencies. She finally found a large safety-pin, which she attached to the back of the tube top. Just in case.
Just then PussyWhip approached the tent, followed by the still sniggering crowd.
'Hey, 'Glamour Girl', she shouted. 'There still a pussy stuck-up that tree, though it's not attracting as much attention as yours was'.
'Glamour Girl' stuck her head out of the tent.
'Very funny. Well I can't save that darn, eh, dear little cat because my tights and briefs are in shreds'.
'Well, it's not our fault your ass is so fat that you split your drawers', laughed PussyWhip.
'Glamour Girl' seethed at this slight on her posterior. The sight of PussyWhip glorying in her predicament really was too much.
'Well, as you know, 'Glamour Girl'', continued PussyWhip, 'I own the 'PussyWhip Lingerie Company', and I happen to have a sample of our underwear here if it will help you'.
'That's very generous of you', said 'Glamour Girl' through gritted teeth. All she really wanted to do was get out of here, but that would have looked really bad.
One of the PussyPets fetched over a small briefcase, and PussyWhip opened it.
'It's a new line of lingerie we're doing. I'm afraid it's all I have with me. It's really designed for little brats who've got too big for their panties'.
PussyWhip held the item up. It was a pair of pink rhumba panties, with rows and rows of frilly ruffles across the front and the seat. The audience could not suppress further laughter at the sight of the glamorous, snooty 'Glamour Girl' being offered such humiliatingly juvenile underwear. 'Glamour Girl' was outraged.
'Glamour Girl does not wear rhumba panties, thank-you very much', she snapped.
'Suit yourself, but the whole world is waiting to see you rescue the cat, and you can't do that bare-assed'.
'Glamour Girl' turned to Paula.
'She's deliberately trying to humiliate me', she seethed.
'And succeeding admirably' thought Paula delightedly. 'She does have a point', she said. 'The cat is still stuck, and you have no real choice'.
'But I'll look ridiculous! I'll be a laughing-stock'.
'After that exhibition on the tree, you're already that', said Paula. 'If you can save the cat, you might rescue something from this'.
Paula genuinely felt that 'Glamour Girl' had to go through with it, though part of her was also delighted at the prospect of seeing her snooty, bad-tempered employer subjected to more indignity. After all the times she'd been forced to dress down, the prospect of seeing this b*tch, who so prided herself on being at the height of fashion, having to don babyish pink rhumba panties in public, was an enjoyable one.
'Glamour Girl' grabbed the proffered panties with ill-grace from PussyWhip, then, cursing and swearing in a most un-Superheroine fashion, removed her tattered tights and briefs and put on the degrading panties.
'I'll get her for this, don't you worry', she fumed, as she looked down miserably at the full-cut panties she was wearing, and felt the rows of ruffles on her seat.
A minute or so later, a very sheepish, chastened 'Glamour Girl' emerged from the tent, bright red with embarrassment, as she stood before the delighted crowd. Minutes before she had stood preening arrogantly, every inch the dynamic, sexy Superheroine. Now, having flashed her sn*tch to all and sundry, she stood before them in frilly pink rhumba panties, which where in total contrast to the tight, breast-hugging tube top, with it's proud 'Glamour Girl' logo. God, she felt ridiculous, the wind whistling round her bare midriff, the fantastic boob-tube being mocked by her panties. They were so babyish!
'My, what cute little panties you're wearing, 'Glamour Girl'' snickered PussyWhip as the mortified Superheroine reddened further. 'Is this the new costume we've been hearing so much about? It seems very appropriate for a spoiled little brat like you'.
Walking with as much dignity as she could muster (which was not much, as the audience pointed delightedly at the rows and rows of frothy lace covering her seat) she glared at PussyWhip.
'Just you wait', she hissed, then walked back over to the tree, and groaned as she noticed that the cat had gone up to some higher branches. What she could not see was that the invisible Bionic Bimbo, creasing herself with laughter, was also perched up the tree.
'Paula. Dart gun', she snapped.
Paula dug into her bag again and produced the 'Glamour Girl Dart Gun', a small pistol.
Instantly, the small girl began to scream.
'You can't shoot my cat', she hollered.
'It's only a dart gun, sweetheart', said 'Glamour Girl', trying to mask her impatience. 'Just a very mild sedative to calm the little darling down'.
Jumping athletically again, the red-faced Superheroine began to climb the tree, hoping to get this over with quickly, holding the dart-gun in one hand. When she was nearly level with the cat, the Bionic Bimbo chased it across to a parallel branch. Muttering under her breath, 'Glamour Girl' began to cross over to the next branch, not noticing that, with the help of the Bionic Bimbo, the elastic at the back of her panties had snagged in a small knot of wood. As she stretched over to reach the cat, she felt the elastic tighten against her bare stomach. She looked round to see her panties stretching far behind her. She could hear more sniggers on the ground, then looked on helplessly as the panties freed themselves. A loud ping could be heard followed by a yelp of pain from 'Glamour Girl' as the panty elastic snapped against her behind.
'Oooooh!', she whined, as she rubbed her bottom to more laughter from below.
Undeterred, the hugely embarrassed superheroine continued her ascent. Just below where the cat was perched, she had to stand on two parallel branches. She turned her back to the tree and began to hoist herself upward. The Bionic Bimbo quickly ensured that the elastic of the panties got snarled again in a prominent knot in the tree. As 'Glamour Girl' heaved herself up, she was suddenly aware that her panties were not moving up with her, as she felt them slide to her knees.
'Oh my God', she whined, humiliatingly aware that the well-manicured 'Glamour Girl' sn*tch was on full display once more. Since her feet were in mid-air she was able to cross her legs to minimise the exhibition she was giving to the laughing, jeering crowd, and to prevent the panties from slipping off altogether.
She knew had no choice but to lower herself again and try to retrieve her errant underwear. As she did so, the Bionic Bimbo hooked the back of the tube top to another knot in the tree-trunk. As 'Glamour Girl' descended, she could feel the boob-tube being hoisted over her head. With another shriek of outraged dignity, she was aware that her magnificent, jiggling breasts were now also on display. Since she was holding herself up by her arms, there was nothing she could do to cover her firm, bouncing tits. Beneath her, cameras clicked, men oggled, and her bitter rival, PussyWhip, pointed and laughed gleefully. And was that a smirk she detected on Paula's face?
'Oh God!' she fumed, in impotent fury.
This was so humiliating! Suspended half-way up a tree, in public, ridiculous panties at half-mast, tits and pussy on display. She knew she had to make a decision. If she hoisted herself up again, she could cover her tits, but would lose her panties. On the other hand, if she continued to lower herself, she could pull-up her panties, but she'd lose the tube top. It was obvious which was the lesser of the two evils. She began to lower herself back on to the branches she'd been standing on. Since they were a couple of feet apart, it meant she had to uncross her legs, and she blushed furiously as her legs opened up, and she gave a glorious unhindered view of her slit, with her legs apart, panties now stretched tightly between her knees. With a rip, the boob-tube tore off. At least she could now cover her tits with one hand, as she reached to pull her panties back up. The crowd, thoroughly enjoying seeing the haughty 'Glamour Girl' taken down a peg or two also noticed that the opened safety-pin at the back of the top had fallen into the widely-stretched panties, behind the mortified, red-faced superheroine's back.
Paula reluctantly felt obliged to warn her employer about the potentially painful contents of her underwear.
'Glamour Girl', she yelled. 'Don't pull up your panties!'
This was not an imprecation the snooty heroine was about to listen to. She'd flashed her pussy quite enough for one day, and the fact that her opened legs gave everyone a first-class view of her pussy-lips made it all the more humiliating. With a quick jerk, she hauled the pink frilly rhumba panties back up. She'd never dreamed she'd be glad to put these juvenile undies back on. There was a brief pause, then a roar of pain from the super-model as the safety-pin jabbed her right ass-cheek.
'Yeeeeeooooow!', she screamed, frantically feeling her ruffled-rear with one hand, while covering her tits with the other.
'Ooooh! My ass!', she whined, to great merriment from below. She stuck her hand into the back of her panties and tried to remove the offending object. Since she was also still covering her tits, she could not use her arms to balance, and felt herself begin to fall. Desperately she reached out, and managed to grab hold of another branch a little lower down. Since she was determined to keep her tits covered and pull the safety-pin out of her butt, she was forced to hang over the branch on her stomach, in a most undignified manner.
Cursing her luck, and the cat, but most of all the crowd below which was greatly enjoying her humiliation, she stuck her hand down the pack of her pink panties again, and with a little yelp, extracted the now very bent safety-pin. She slowly rubbed her punctured ass, while glaring at the mocking spectators.
Dangling over a branch, desperately trying to cover her boobs, tender rear-end stuck up behind her, encased in demeaning, babyish panties, in front of PussyWhip and the world's press was, thought 'Glamour Girl', as bad as it gets. She was wrong.
The cat at last decided to move down the tree. 'Glamour Girl' looked round, and with a sudden shudder of alarm, noticed that it was playing with the dart-gun that she'd been forced to leave behind when the boob-tube had got caught. As the cat continued to toy with the pistol, the now heavily sweating 'Glamour Girl' watched anxiously. The sedative would not have any effect on her, but a dart in the butt from a cat, from her own gun, would be very humiliating, not to mention painful.
'Oh no', she wailed. 'Nice pussy.. drop the gun..there's a nice pussy'.
The crowd, and 'Glamour Girl' were all too aware that her ruffled rump, sticking up behind her, was potentially in the direct line of fire. But surely the cat couldn't inadvertently fire the dart-gun. At least, not without the Bionic Bimbo's help it couldn't. A loud bang was immediately followed by screech of pain as the small, feathered dart lodged itself into the right pink-frilled ass-cheek of the helpless, dangling beauty.
'Yoooooouuuch!', she wailed again, as the crowd laughed hysterically, and 'Glamour Girl' kicked her legs again impotently, making the little dart bounce up and down with her ass.
'I've never been so humiliated in my life', she sobbed, feeling at the seat of her panties to try and remove the dart. She'd just pulled it out painfully when another loud bang was heard, and a second dart punctured the ruffles covering her left ass-cheek.
'Yoooowwww--ooowwww! Oooooooooh!. My ass!'
Her poor derriere was now extremely sore and throbbing from these missiles and the safety-pin. And there were 2 more darts in the gun! This called for desperate measures. She wasn't going to hang there and let her rump be used for target-practice by this trigger-happy cat. Quickly pulling out the other dart, with another wince of pain, she scrambled along the branch. In the process, her tender rear came in contact with the bark. She jumped up in pain, and lost her balance, and began to slide off the branch. She aimed her feet for another branch much further down. However, once again she snagged the back of her panties as she began her descent. With another roar of mortification, she found herself suspended in mid-air by the seat of her panties, which were now pulled painfully up into her ass and pussy. Desperately covering her tits, kicking her legs, and shrieking with outrage, she undulated up and down with the swaying branch.
'Get me down from here!', she yelled, crimson-faced, kicking thin air, and seething with impotent rage.
As far as the crowd was concerned, this was too much. The proud, vain 'Glamour Girl' was dangling from a tree, suspended by her pretty frilly panties which were wedged tightly into her pussy. The back of the panties were stretched out behind her half-way up her back. The superb breasts were barely covered by her arms. Some, like PusshWhip laughed outright. Others, such as Paula, and some of the press men, had to bite their tongues to suppress their giggles at this humiliating exhibition.
Still wildly kicking, and feeling herself gently lifted up and down by the branch, squirming as the panties dug into her pussy and ass, 'Glamour Girl' then noticed that, on top of everything else, she was hanging directly above a large drum of tar that the workmen had left beside the tree.
'Oh no!', she wailed, as she felt the panties stretch even further. The on-lookers had just decided that they would have to move the drum, and 'Glamour Girl' had just said a silent prayer about the strength of her elastic, when she heard the sound she dreaded. With one last undignified undulation, there was a loud rip as the crotch of her panties gave way.
'Nooooooo!', she screamed.
As her audience watched gleefully at this latest indignity, the gorgeous, arrogant, snooty 'Glamour Girl' descended, minus her panties, into the thick, black, sticky tar below. For an instant, she was totally submerged. The out of the thick, pitch black mess, her head and shoulders emerged as she regained her feet. The long, expensively cut hair, the beautiful, haughty face, the slender white shoulders, the swelling, round breast were now coated in the disgusting, gooey pitch, which ran slowly and in thick rivulets down her neck, and over her jutting tits.
For a moment she stood in silence, seething, wiping the smelly, thick, revolting goo from her face as the crowd dissolved into laughter. Her torn panties swung gently above her on the branch.
'Get me out of here, you incompetent oaf!', she hissed at Paula.
'Might need to freshen up a bit when you get out of there', said PussyWhip delightedly.
'Glamour Girl' was about to respond with a remark that the gentlemen of the press would not be able to print verbatim when the cat leapt down the tree to the branch where the rhumba panties were hanging. With a swipe of it's paw, it knocked them off the branch and they landed in a pink ruffled heap over the thoroughly humiliated superheroine's head. She sn*tched them off furiously and glared at the cat.
'You can keep the panties by the way, 'Glamour Girl'', said PussyWhip. 'No charge'.
With Paula's help, 'Glamour Girl' climbed slowly out of the barrel. Her poor ass was still very sore, and every inch of her was covered in tar. She realised that loose grass was sticking to the soles of her feet. Even though her tits and pussy were coated in tar, she instinctively covered both with a hand, then realised that they were now almost stuck there as a result.
'Call HQ to get me out of here!' she roared at Paula, who had never enjoyed a mission with 'Glamour Girl' so much.
As she stood, now trying to remove her stuck hands from her tits and pubic mound, the cat finally descended, and ran past her. 'Glamour Girl''s patience with it finally snapped, and she tried to aim a kick at the passing feline, but the soles of her feet were so well adhered to the ground that she lost her balance, and fell, ass first, into a wide, wooden, bin.
'Oh! Now what!' she yelled, as she felt her ass against the unpleasant contents of the bin. She struggled for a moment or two in this ungainly position, then, with a pull from Paula, she made it to her feet again, knocking over the bin as she did so. More laugher rang out as 'Glamour Girl' became aware that her ass was now plastered with bits of paper, discarded candy, newspaper, even part of a half-eaten burger, all stuck fast to her tar covered seat. This was so completely degrading! 'Glamour Girl' was used to posing victoriously and sexily for the cameras. Now she was standing naked in public, covered in tar, with the contents of a bin stuck to her ass. Someone would pay for this!
'Get these off me now!', she yelled, bending slightly, hands still sticking to her breasts and pussy. Before Paula could respond, however, the cat decided to investigate the remains of the burger. It leapt on the defenceless posterior to try this delicacy, digging it's claws into the proffered tender butt-cheeks as it did so.
'YEEEEOOOOOOWWW!, hollered 'Glamour Girl', desperately trying to free her hands to clutch her ass and remove the cat.
'Get it off me! Ouuuch!'
With her feet stuck, she had to resort to wiggling her trash-covered butt frantically from side to side as the cat dug in harder to keep hold.
'Oooooww! Yeouch! My ass! Get this goddam cat off my goddam butt! Ooooooh!' she screamed, writhing in discomfort and sheer humiliation.
In her wild attempts to dislodge the cat, she did manage to free her hands, but stumbled again, landing face down into the spilled contents of the bin. The cat ran off, as 'Glamour Girl' regained her feet. Now, as well as the rubbish plastering her rear, her whole front was covered by garbage. A small scrap of paper swung from her nose; a piece of lettuce hung from one breast and polystyrene cup covered the other; and a triangular wedge of ham and tomato pizza was plastered over her tar-covered pussy. The roar of laughter that accompanied this only served to heighten 'Glamour Girl''s wrath.
Just then, two large limousines and a van, covered with the 'Glamour Girl' logo screeched to a halt beside the tree, and 'Glamour Girl' personal crew of beauticians, assistants, trainers and secretaries ran to the scene. 'Glamour Girl''s personal retinue was large, and each looked suitably concerned and serious as they approached their employer. Inwardly, they were all as delighted to see this insufferable b*tch thoroughly humiliated as everyone else was. Walking on the tar-covered feet was too difficult, so Paula suggested she sit on a stretcher to be carried to the waiting van.
'You know I can't sit down', she snapped, imperiously.
So she got on to the stretcher face down. Not wanting to squash the pizza into her pussy, she lay on her knees, which meant that her throbbing derriere was sticking up behind her in a most humiliating fashion.
'Get me to the 'Glamour Girl' centre, and be quick about it', she ordered her retinue. 'Paula. Get all the pictures from these ass-holes. And as for you, PussyWhip - I don't know how, but I know you had something to do with this. I'll get even with you, just you wait. No-one gets the better of 'Glamour Girl'!'
The smirking PussyWhip simply laughed at this, then pointed out that the cat had gone back up the tree.
'It can stay there as far as I'm concerned'.
The cat was indeed back up the tree, playing with the dart-gun again. As the stretcher passed, with the 'Glamour Girl' behind stuck-up invitingly, there was another loud bang.
'Glamour Girl''s yelp of pain was nearly drowned by the cheers and laughter from the crowd.
NEXT UP--THE BIG CLEAN-UP
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