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Housewife's Humiliating Regression

By: JohnKnuckles



The last thing I remembered was sitting on our leather couch, wearing my pretty pink bathrobe, batting my extra-long (false) eyelashes at my gorgeous husband, and starting to feel drowsy. Ugh! What a day...

I vaguely remembered wrapping my nice, warm bathrobe around my body because I was cold - and the only thing I was wearing beneath it was my (double-padded) Wonderbra and skimpy red panties with the sexy silk fringes. My husband, Carl, likes to make fun of me for wearing bras all the time, even when it's just the two of us lounging around the house - and even during sex - but what can I say? A lady MUST maintain her appearance... and even after three years of marriage, I'd rather Carl think of me as the curvy, top-heavy vixen he fell in love with... instead of, you know... as a girl who's not, uh, particularly well endowed.

"Here. Drink this before you doze off, angel," Carl told me, handing me a glass of water and two of my pain pills.

"Okay... thank you, sweetie..."

Soon I was fast asleep.

One day earlier, I had been riding my horse at the Prairie Mountain Country Club - the most exclusive private club in town. I LOVED horseback riding! But my outing came to an abrupt halt when I was thrown from Buttercup, my beautiful coal-black Arabian stallion, while riding along the old Indian trail. I landed with a sick thud in the dirt, and the end-result was six bruised ribs, a hyperextended knee and a concussion.

When I awoke several hours later, Carl was carrying his suitcase to the front door.

"Carl...? Carl! What... what's going on?"

He walked to the couch and kissed me on the forehead.

"Oh, you're up. Hope you're feeling better, babe. Bad news: Old Man Peterson called me half-an-hour ago. He needs me to fly up to Chicago, ASAP. The client isn't happy and our biggest account is threatening to cancel their contract. Can you believe it?"

"What? You... you're leaving? But - but I need you, sweetie! I can barely walk!"

"I'm so sorry, babe. Believe me, I'd rather stay with you. But this isn't optional, and you know how Old Man Peterson gets when a client threatens to walk. ...You sure you're okay?"

I shook my head, trying to clear the cobwebs. Tears were beginning to swell in my eyes.

"Carl! You can't leave me now! I - I can't even get off the couch without your help!"

"Don't worry, babe: I called someone to help. And it won't just be her: She has two others helping her take care of you."

"Oh? ...Who?"

Two 20-year-old boys walked into the room with sheepish grins, along with a 20-year-old bleached-blonde girl in thigh-high leather boots.

My heart sank!

These weren't professional nurses. These were two stoner-boys from the neighborhood - plus their skanky girlfriend!

The McNally twins, Roger and Hank. And Deborah Jones, the neighborhood slut.

I knew the McNally twins VERY well. Too well: When they were younger, I was their babysitter. I looked after them from ages 11 to 18. But I quit watching them when their "interest" in me got out of hand.

Mrs. McNally tried to dismiss my concerns: "Don't be silly, Charlotte! They're adolescent boys. It's only natural that they'd be attracted to a pretty woman like you. It's just a harmless crush! They're only 18 and very inexperienced."

But it was more than a harmless crush, and I'm not so sure how "inexperienced" they really were. Believe me, those kids were weird and creepy! They were constantly trying to peek down my blouse, and every time I walked by, they had their hands down their pants!

The last straw was when I went to the bathroom to pee after sending them to bed. I know for a FACT that I locked the door shut - but somehow, it swung wide open - and both of those little pervs were standing in the doorway, gaping at me.

There I was, sitting on the toilet, with my jeans and panties around my ankles.

"GET OUT!!" I screamed.

But they just stood there, staring at me with their jaws wide open.

"Ooh, I see her underpants!" said one of the cretins, pointing.

I wrapped my arms around my waist and leaned all the way over so the twins couldn't see my pussy.

"I SAID, GET OUT!!"

"Uh, do you need help wiping, Charlotte?" asked Roger. "Heh, heh!"

"Yeah!" giggled Hank. "Spread your legs wide and we'll... heh, heh... wipe you real good! It'll be our little secret!"

My face turned bright red. I grabbed my shoe and threw it at their stupid faces! 

"Get the fuck out of here! NOW!!"

Laughing like lunatics, they got the message and shut the door. (I could hear them arguing in the hallway about whether or not they "saw bush.")

That was two years ago. It was the last time I ever babysat them. Noooo thank you! Frankly, I thought it was ridiculous that 18-year-old boys would need a babysitter anyway - but I no longer felt safe around them. Because in addition to being a pair of socially-awkward pervs, they were both really, REALLY big. I'm guessing six-foot, six-inches, 300-pounds each - the size of NFL linemen. 

And I'm really petite. I mean, really, REALLY petite.

Sigh... Not only am I NOT naturally well-endowed when it comes to my breasts, I'm also short and skinny. My true height is only four-foot, 11 inches, not that I'd ever admit it (Thank God for high heels!). I'm almost 29, but without my padded bra, heels and makeup, I still get carded when buying a ticket to an R-rated movie! (And once on a camping trip, someone actually thought I was Carl's daughter! Can you believe that? The grumpy-old ranger wouldn't let me leave the campsite until my "daddy" showed up. I tried to stomp away, but he grabbed me by the waistband of my shorts and panties - and as I ran back to my tent, they were accidentally yanked to my knees! I fell face-first into the mud with my ass in the air... and when I looked up, my shorts and panties in the ranger's hand! It was the single most humiliating moment of my life.) 

That's why I ALWAYS wear makeup and a "special" bra before I leave the house, or when I'm alone with my husband. It's why - when Carl turned his back and left me on the couch after my recent visit to the emergency room - I quickly grabbed my pocketbook and applied my makeup. 

It's SO frustrating being an adult - and still looking like a little kid!

Anyway, after the bathroom incident, I refused to babysit the McNally twins. I tried to avoid them at all costs, but they still lived in the neighborhood and they always seemed to be lurking around. And they were constantly making stupid, immature "jokes" about my body, talking about how much fun it would be to fuck me... like, AS IF!

Now they were here - in my house?!

Their girlfriend, Deborah Jones, was even worse: She was a chain-smoking, pill-popping, dick-hopping super-slut who was notorious for getting drunk and making such a terrible racket, someone would invariably call the cops.

That someone was usually me.

"What's yourrrr problem, Chhharlotte?" she slurred at me last week, after I notified the police that an underage, 20-year-old girl was drinking vodka and blasting music at 3 in the morning.

"Just go home and sleep it off, Deborah," I retorted. "And while you're at it, go take a bath! You reek of cigarettes and sperm! Eww!"

"You think you'rrrre so much better than me, don't ya?!" she slurred. "Just 'cause you have them... them expensive clothes and - and fancy-shmancy makeup, ya think you'rrre the Queen of the whole neighborhood! Well, I gots newwzz forrr ya, Charlotte! *Hiccup!* One of these days, I'm gonna take you down a peg! And I'm gonna show everyone EXACTLY what yerrrr really like!"

"Take me down a peg?" I laughed. "The only thing you take down is your panties! Now get your skanky ass out of here or I'll call the cops again!"

That only made her angrier: "You... you BITCH! Without them rrrrich-girl clothes, you're nothin'! You act sooo smart and - hiccup! - sophisticated, but I see how badly ya want Hank and Roger to ffffuck you good! *Hiccup!* You - you WANT their cock! DON'T YOU, ya little midget!"

"Sorry, dear!" I sniggered, "but Freud calls your theory 'projecting.' Now go home, you pathetic cum-bucket! In life, there are winners and there are losers. You dear, are an ugly, unattractive LOSER. Now GO!"

"Go?! Or elssssse WHAT?!"

"Or else I'll bend you over my knee and whip your pimply ass, bitch!"

She staggered away, cursing me under her breath.

Unfortunately, Carl didn't know about these melees. Carl was an unrepentant workaholic; he was always away on business trips. In retrospect, I guess it was my fault for not telling him... but it was too late now - and the very last thing I wanted were these three nimrods in MY house!

"Carl! I need a professional nurse!" I pleaded. "Not three little kids from the neighborhood! I'm injured! I - I need professional help! ...No offense, kids."

"It's okay, Charlotte," Deborah politely answered. "I'm a second-year nursing student. Taking care of patients is part of our case work. And Hank and Roger do volunteer work with the Rescue Squad every Tuesday and Thursday. You don't have to worry your pretty head about a thing. We'll take EXCELLENT care of you."

"Yeah, heh, heh," giggled Hank. "You're in good hands! We'll make food for you, we'll do the laundry for you..."

"That's right, Charlotte! We'll even help you change your clothes... and take a shower... heh, heh!" giggled Roger.

"Carl!" I shrieked. But Carl was busy fiddling his iPhone, staring at the screen:

"Dammit... I'm running late. I gotta go, babe. Be back in three days. Maybe four. Well, five tops. Deborah, boys - remember our agreement: She needs 24-hour, 'round-the-clock care. Do a good job, and there's $500 for you when I return. Understood? $500! So long, sweetie!"

He blew me a kiss. And with that... he was gone.

Christ! 

I nervously looked around the room: All three of the kids were leering at me with psychotic grins on their faces. The McNally boys in particular were eyeing me like I was a slab of meat.

I gulped, pulling my bathrobe tight.

"Don't worry, Charlotte," Deborah grinned. "Let me see your list of meds... that cute hubby of yours left a list. "Hmm," she read, "standard stuff... your pain meds every four hours, this one every two hours... Oh! I see you have one daily suppository."

"What? I - I don't have a suppository!" I protested.

"You've been on pain meds, Charlotte, and you're still recovering from a concussion," she answered. "No wonder you're forgetful. Trust me, you have a daily suppository. It's right here on the list."

"What's a suppository?" asked Roger.

"Heh, heh... it's a pill that gets jammed up her pooper!" giggled Hank. "Heh, heh!"

"You mean the pill goes up her butt?" asked Roger, incredulous. "Like, you've gotta stick it inside her asshole? Wow! I'll totally volunteer to help her with THAT!"

He wiggled his pointer finger in the air and winked at me.

"Stop it!" I cried. "I'd remember if I had to take a fucking suppository! I don't! So STOP IT!!"

"Don't get so upset, Charlotte," Deborah told me. "It's nothing to be embarrassed about, and besides, I want you calm and relaxed. Look, I know we've had our differences in the past, but I have every intention of taking first-rate care of you. My nursing career is something I take very seriously."

I regained control of my emotions and began breathing slower: "Okay... Thank you. I appreciate that, Deborah."

"Hank, Roger: I need you to help our patient," ordered Deborah. "This is gonna be strictly by-the-books. Go grab her dirty laundry from the bedroom and run a load."

"Heh, heh! You said, 'load!'" giggled Hank. "But okay..."

"NO! Wait!" I squealed.

Everyone turned to me, looking confused.

"I - I don't need anyone doing my laundry," I stammered. "That - that's a nice offer, but you don't need to do that!"

That's what I said... but I had an ulterior motive: My personal laundry includes my... personal items. Meaning my, ahem, undergarments. 

My panties and bras.

Specifically, my "enhanced" bras - i.e. my vast collection of Wonderbras, plus all my custom-made bras - the ones with extra padding sewed into the cups!

"Don't be silly," Deborah chided. "Doing laundry and light cleaning is standard homecare for a patient, and I want to earn that $500 from your hubby. ...Unless you have a good reason for us NOT to see your laundry? DO you?"

What could I say? I shook my head no...

The McNally twins shrugged and headed off to my bedroom. I gulped, praying that those two numbskulls wouldn't notice anything unusual! Deborah looked down at me with a suspicious expression:

"You know, Charlotte... you really shouldn't wear any tight clothes. You're on some powerful narcotics and sedatives. Limiting your body's circulation can be dangerous. I need you to loosen your bathrobe belt. It's for your own good."

Instead, I pulled my bathrobe belt tighter.

"I'll dress myself as I see fit, thank you very much! If I want to wear my bathrobe this way, I'm gonna fucking do it! Do you hear me?! Am I making myself clear? I'M in charge, not you!"

Deborah paused for a moment and frowned. Then her frown transformed into a wide, toothy smile. She reached down - and grabbed my belt!

"Hey! HEY!! You - you BITCH! LET GOOO!!"

She ripped the belt clean off my bathrobe, then hurled it to the other side of the room.

My bathrobe flew wide open! Red-faced and panic-stricken, I quickly pulled it closed... but not before Deborah got a good, long look at my bra- and panty-clad body.

Her smile widened.

"My, my!" she chuckled. "You really are a skinny little pixie! If it weren't for that nice chest of yours, you'd totally have the body of a little kid! Ha! Those are some fancy undies, by the way!"

"Fuck you! You - you have no right!"

"How much do those panties cost anyway? They're ADORABLE!"

"Shut up! G - give me back my belt!" GIVE IT TO ME!"

"Look, I'm not gonna let you hurt yourself while I'm in charge of your well-being. And that's final. The belt is confiscated, Charlotte."

Just then, the perv-twins walked past up, carrying big piles of my laundry in their arms - and each wearing a pair of my thong panties over their heads! They looked like gay superheroes! I nearly died!

"Hey, which way is the laundry room, Charlotte?" one of them asked.

"Through... through the door to the left," I mumbled, blushing furiously.

As they walked past the couch, Hank dropped one of my bras to the ground. It landed right next to Deborah's feet.

"No! Wait! Give that to me!" I yelped, reaching for it. 

Oh, God! 

Ignoring me, Deborah leaned over and picked it up, methodically examining its solid-foam interior. I was blushing so brightly, I could've glowed in the dark!

That BITCH was smiling so broadly by now, she looked like the Joker. She held-up the bra to the light, then stared directly at my chest! She stared and stared and stared - like she had x-ray vision!

"Well, well, well! What do you know!" she crowed.

I pulled the bathrobe as tightly as I could around my torso, lowering my head in shame.

Both the McNally boys returned to the room.

"Hey Charlotte, we've got the first load running in the washer," said Roger. "Say, 'thank you!'"

"Yeah, and your panties smelled GREAT! Heh, heh," giggled Hank. "More 'loads' to come!"

"Great... thanks," I mumbled, still beet-red.

"Boys," Deborah directed, "take the patient to the bathroom and run her a shower. I'm gonna dash home and grab some new clothes for her."

"A - a shower?!" I gasped. "Clothes?! I have my own clothes! And - and I don't need a shower!"

"Bedsores are a common concern after an injury," Deborah explained. "And I think I have some clothes that will fit you... more comfortably. Boys, take care of her!"

And she headed out the door.

Roger and Hank looked down on me. I felt so small - so tiny... I cowered on the couch.

"Please, guys," I begged, "I seriously don't need a shower. I've only been on the couch for one day. There's no risk of bedsores. Let's just forget about it. Go watch TV, or something."

"Sorry, Charlotte," Roger answered. "Deb's in charge. If she says you need a shower, you need a shower."

They each put an arm under me and lifted me off the couch, walking me down the hall like I was a helpless invalid. My feet weren't even touching the floor! 

"Let me go, you faggots!" I screamed. "Let me go!"

Without my belt, my bathrobe flew wide open. ALL the way open! My thin, petite body was fully revealed - with only my bra and panties to shield my modesty.

"Wait! Wait! Let me pull my bathrobe closed! PLEASE!"

"Whoa! You've got a SWEET bod!" exclaimed Hank, staring at my near-naked flesh for the first time. "How you managed to grow those nice, firm tits on such a skinny body is a mystery to me - but bravo! Mother Nature treated you right!"

"Yeah!" added Roger. "Besides, if you're gonna be taking a shower, you don't need a bathrobe. Off we go..." 

He yanked my pretty pink bathrobe off my shoulders - so it dropped to the ground behind me. Oh, God! I was being escorted to the bathroom by the perv-twins in just my Wonderbra and panties! I had NEVER been so embarrassed in my life!

One of them put a hand on my ass and gave a squeeze.

"HEY! Cut it out, asshole!" I hissed. "Move your fucking hand! I'm NOT your girlfriend and never will be!"

"Asshole?" giggled Hank, continuing to massage my butt. "Nah, not your asshole - just your ass-cheek. 'Sides, I gotta keep you steady so you don't tip over. This... heh, heh... is for your own good!"

Jesus! Kill me!

By the time we reached the bathroom, I was almost in tears... partly from rage, partly from humiliation.

"Great. Thanks for 'helping' me, you fucking perverts," I growled, crossing my legs and covering my bra with my arms. "Now go away! I can shower by myself! GO AWAY!"

"Are you SURE, Charlotte? Maybe you'd like for us to help you... heh, heh... wash behind the ears! Or behind your... heh, heh... other parts!" 

I waved my fist at him: "Get out of here before I count to three! Do you hear me?! I'll DESTROY you! I'll DESTROY your lousy reputations! You do NOT want to mess with ME!! One! Two! Thr-"

Then Roger's cell phone rang. He held a finger to my lips and answered it:

"Hello? Oh, hey Deb. Yeah, we've brought her to the bathroom so she can shower. What? No, she's telling us to leave. Being a real bitch about it, too. ...What? Really? I mean... REALLY? ...You sure? We... we can really do that? Cool! You bet! Okay, bye!"

With a rude look in his eye, Roger grinned at me: "Bad news, Charlotte. Deb says we can't let you shower by yourself. Said it's too dangerous - you might slip and fall. Said concussions make you dizzy and prone to passing out."

I covered my body with both arms and glowered back: "Well, what the fuck is THAT supposed to mean?"

"It means," he said, as he pulled off his plaid shirt and unbuttoned his pants, "that I'm gonna take a shower with you."

"WHAT?!"

He stepped out of his pants. All he was wearing were his Mickey Mouse boxers - and a gigantic boner!

"NO! ABSOLUTELY NOT!! ARE YOU CRAZY?!"

"Sweet! I'll join, too!" volunteered Hank, peeling off his clothes.

Within seconds, they were both buck-ass naked... and their dicks were ENORMOUS! Much bigger than Carl's! I was shocked! I... I didn't know penises could get that big!

"Heh, heh," giggled Hank. "Look: She's staring at our cocks!"

"I'm not!" I protested, blushing again. "That - that's a lie!" But I couldn't look away...

Roger turned on the shower and waited a few seconds.

"Alrighty, Charlotte. Water's nice and warm. Strip off your undies."

"NO!" I begged. "I - I can shower while still wearing my bra and panties! Please don't make me get naked! PLEASE!!"

"But what's the big deal? We're both naked, ain't we? If we can get naked, so can you."

"PLEASE!!" I cried. "My husband doesn't even get to see me all the way naked! PLEASE!!"


Housewife's Humiliating Regression



Hank unhooked the back of my bra. I yelped, clutching the front of my Wonderbra with both hands! My back was exposed, but not my front! I held onto the front with all my might.

"NOOOOOO!!"

"Charlotte, we're all adults here. Stop being such a baby!"

I could feel Hank stick two of his fingers into the sides of my panties - and slowly start to slide them down my body.

"YOU CAN'T!! PLEEEEEEASE!!"

He pulled my panties down an inch, then paused.

"Oh, Charlotte... you have no idea how long I've been dreaming of this moment," he whispered in my ear. "All those years... you were my strict-as-shit babysitter, well, I've been dyin' to find out what you've been hiding beneath your clothes!"

He pulled down my panties another inch.

"STOP!! JUST - JUST STOP!!"

"All those years," he whispered again, "YOU were the one in charge! Well, guess what? Now WE'RE the ones in charge!"

He pulled again: With one final, downward thrust, my panties raced down past hips, over my pelvis, past my thighs - all the way to my ankles.

My pussy was totally, fully revealed! My pussy - the most intimate part of my entire body!

"AAAAAAHHHH!!"

"Hey, look!" exclaimed Roger, eyeballing my crotch. "She shaves her bush into the shape of a Valentine's heart! See? It's right over her pussy-lips!"

Hank turned around to take a better look:

"Heh, heh! Isn't that romantic! Aww! How festive!"

"This - this is private!" I hysterically howled. "It was just for Carl to see! Not you two! Stop looking!! STOP!! STOOOOP!!"

I stomped my foot for added emphasis. But they continued to stare, memorizing every detail... and their freakishly large erection grew even larger. 

"STOP LOOKING AT MY PUSSY!! YOU'RE NOT ALLOWED!!"

But alas, it was true: I had shaved my pussy completely bare, sans a heart-shaped pubic-design on top. It was SUPPOSED to be an extra-special anniversary gift for my husband. I had even purchased sexy lingerie for him to "unwrap" ($450 from Victoria's Secret) - and my "special" heart was supposed to be his personal present! It certainly wasn't supposed to be something for two stupid kids from the neighborhood to gawk at!

"But Charlotte," asked Roger, continuing to stare at my crotch, "if your husband doesn't get to see you all the way naked... then what was the point of shaving your pubes?"

"Well, he gets to see THAT! Just not my... not my... I - I mean..."

By now they had figured it out: Both of them were eyeing my chest that I was STILL covering with my bra and both hands.

"PLEASE!" I whimpered. "PLEASE don't make me take off my bra! Please don't make me! PLEASE!!"

"What's the big deal?" Roger inquired, looking genuinely perplexed. "I've seen you in all kinds of sexy tops and hot little blouses. You're famous for flaunting your figure. And I don't blame you: You've got a killer rack!"

"Yeah!" Hank added. "You've got the best tits in the neighborhood!"

"PLEASE!! DON'T - DON'T... JUST DON'T MAKE ME SAY WHY!!"

"This is ridiculous. Hank, take off her bra. For fuck's sake, let's get this shower over with already."

I was clutching my bra with all my might - pressing it against my chest with every ounce of strength I possessed - but Hank was so much bigger than me. There... there was nothing I could do to stop him... 

Within seconds, he had whisked my Wonderbra clean-off my body and lowered my arms so Roger could see what all the fuss was about.

My... tiny little tits.

Roger's eyes bulged and his jaw dropped open. But then his expression changed entirely: He was laughing.

He was LAUGHING at my little breasts!

"What? What's so funny?" asked Hank.

"Haw! Haw! She's totally flat!" roared Roger. "She's got no tits at all!"

"No way! Lemme look!"

Hank turned me around so he could gawk at my chest.

"Haw, Haw! All she has are two puffy pink nipples - and nothing else! Holy Christ! Miss Fancy Pants is completely TITLESS! Haw! Haw! Wait 'til Deborah hears about this!"

"You... you can't tell anybody! PLEASE!" I bawled, with tears rolling down my face. "Wah! Wah! You can't tell! You can't, you can't!"

I couldn't believe it! The McNally boys had stripped me completely naked... and were LAUGHING at my body! They were pointing and LAUGHING at me!

"It's a secret!" I wept. "My little boobs are a SECRET!! PLEASE!!"

Hank leaned over and gripped my puffy nipples in his hands. They instantly hardened into rock-like nubs in his fingers!

"OOH!" I squealed. "OOOOHH!"

"This is the damndest thing," Hank exclaimed. "Even her nipples are tiny!"

"I know!" agreed Roger. "She dresses and acts like the sexiest bitch on the planet - but you take away her clothes, and she's got the body of a little kid!"

I hung my head in shame.

Roger stepped into the shower and was waiting impatiently. The warm water was pouring all over him. His erection was still enormous.

"Hand her over," Roger called. "Let's get Flatty washed and clean."

"Flatty... ha!" roared Hank.

"Don't call me that!" I screamed. "I'm an adult woman!"

"Sure you are, Flatty. Open your arms..."

Hank lifted me up by the armpits and handed me to Roger - like I was a toddler. Roger's thumbs pressed against my nips (I'm sure it was on purpose!) and his mammoth boner was poking my thighs just below my pussy as he held me up in the air and appraised my small, delicate frame. My head was right under the showerhead.

"Never thought I'd have you naked like this, eh, Charlotte?" Roger gloated, his eyes raking my anatomy up and down. "Never thought I'd uncover your itsy-bitsy titties and would be showering naked with ya, did you?"

I didn't answer. Instead, I just looked down and avoided eye contact.

"DID YOU?" he repeated.

I looked at him and began bawling: "Noooo!"

He continued to dangle me in the air, holding me directly under the showerhead. I could feel my fake eyelashes washing off... my makeup being rinsed off my face... my lipstick, rouge and foundation getting washed down the drain.

Then Hank entered the shower. I couldn't see him at first because he was behind me, but I soon felt him breathing on my neck - and the not-so-subtle poke of his penis. He began vigorously soaping my upper-back, shoulders and arms while Roger held me. He was scrubbing my body with great force, actually making me rock back and forth in Roger's arms. I was practically swinging!

"Not - not so rough, Hank!" I squealed. "You - you're soaping me too hard!"

He ignored me and started lathering-up my ass: Just my cheeks, staying respectably away from my crack.

"Heh, heh!" Hank giggled. "Her butt is as scrawny as her tits! There's no meat at all!"

"Leave my tushy alone!" I cried.

"Her 'tushy'!" snorted Hank. "Geez, how old are you, Charlotte?"

Roger raked his eyes over my tits and vagina again: "Well, looking at her, I'm guessing she's still in middle school! Haw, haw!"

"F - fuck you!"

Then I could feel Hank pushing the soap in between my ass cheeks - his fingers rubbing against my anus. He was sliding his fingers in and out of my crack, working their way to the epicenter of my sphincter.

"Your - your fingers!" I gasped. "Get them out! ...GET THEM OUT!!"

He suddenly withdrew his fingers and stopped.

"Rotate her!" Hank told his twin. "Heh, heh! I've gotta soap-up her front... and I can't soap what I can't see!"

Still holding me up in the air, Roger quickly turned me around, so my front was now facing Hank. He took a moment to take in the sight: His former babysitter, naked in the shower, with her tits and pussy within striking distance! He dissected me with his eyes - and his grin was so wide, he was practically drooling!

With a lascivious twinkle, Hank began lathering my tiny nipples... which were now as hard as diamonds! He was lathering them with both his hands... over and over and over again!

I... I couldn't help it: A low moan escaped from my mouth...

"Oooooooohhhhh!"

"Whoa! This bitch is getting turned on!" Roger chortled. "She's horny!"

I wanted to repeat my, "FUCK YOU!" But instead I moaned once more: "OOOOOoooooohhhhhh!!"

And with that, Hank began scrubbing the areas below my breasts: My stomach, hips and upper thighs - before focusing his attention directly on my pussy. He paused and stared, eyeing my holiest-of-holies. It was almost like he was a worshiper at a religious shrine.

Then he winked.

"Nooo!" I squeaked. "You - you don't have permission to touch me there!"

But he ignored me. He took two fingers and casually opened my pussy lips WIDE open! I mean, he just spread my hole as wide as he could!

"I don't have permission, eh? Haw!"

He lowered his head so it was eye-level with my tender, feminine opening, and took a hearty look inside: 

"Peekaboo! What do we have here?! Haw, haw! Say hello to my little friend!"

"YOU BASTARD!! MOVE - MOVE YOUR HAND OFF ME!! GET YOUR HEAD OUT OF THERE!!"

"Sorry, Charlotte. You're a dirty girl! And dirty girls need to be cleaned!"

And that's when he began massaging my pussy with the bar of soap.

Within a few seconds, my entire vagina was caked in slick lather, and his big, fat fingers were penetrating ALL my sensitive folds and creases. This obese, 300+ pound PERVENT had gotten to third base with me! With ME!! He was fingering my vagina, rubbing my clitty, while his brother was suspending me in midair.

"OOOOOHHHHH!! OOOOOHHHHHHHHHHH!! GODDDD!!"

Then he slid his grip, so his thumb was inside my snatch and his other fingers were tickling my butthole.

I was on the verge of cumming!

But right before I gave into temptation, Roger dropped his hands from my armpits to my hips and bent me over. ALL the way over! And it happened so fast: My ass was up and my head was down...

Before I realized what had happened, my mouth was mere inches away from Hank's erect penis - and I could feel Roger's boner poking against my slippery, well-lathered pussy from behind!

"Suck it, bitch!" Hank demanded, grabbing me by my ears and pulling my mouth over his cock.

I tried to say no - honest, I did - but when I opened my mouth, he buried his dick inside me.

"Glug, glug, glug, glug," I gagged, deep-throating his colossal penis. "Glug, glug, glug, glug!"

Roger thrusted twice, and his big penis easily slipped in between my pussy lips. I - I couldn't believe it! He just slid his COCK inside me! I was so soapy, so wet - it just slipped in!

In all my life, I had NEVER cheated on a boyfriend - let alone my husband. But now I was getting FUCKED... by kids that I used to babysit???

Just a few minutes earlier, I was napping on the couch next to my husband. Just 72-hours earlier, I was wearing a gorgeous formal gown, dancing with Carl. Now? I was naked in the shower with the McNally twins, bent over and getting fucked doggy-style by one - and sucking-off the other!

"Glug, glug, glug, glug!"

The sensation was mindblowing! My feet hadn't even touched the floor yet; I was floating in the air like a balloon, being spit-roasted by the biggest pervs in the neighborhood. But it felt soooo GOOD!

I closed my eyes... I was awash with feelings of indescribable lust and shame. I felt myself starting to climax... my pussy was dripping... my mouth was hungrily slurping Hank's big shaft... my hips were shaking...

Then there was a bright FLASH of light! I looked up:

The shower door was wide open - and Deborah Jones was standing there, taking pictures! 

No. NOOOO!!

Panicking, I spat out Hank's penis.

"PUT DOWN YOUR PHONE!! PLEASE!! PUT DOWN YOUR PHONE!!"

But Roger was still suspending me in the air, hammering away at my sopping-wet pussy - waving at the camera. And Deborah continued to photograph me from every conceivable angle!

Hank forced his cock back inside my mouth. Roger rammed me nine more times as hard as he could... and it was too much.

I orgasmed. 

Loudly. Violently. And gloriously. 

I gripped my tender nipples and screamed with all my might: "OOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHH!!"

Hank shot his load on my face.

Deborah recorded every last detail.

"Well, I guess we now know who the biggest slut in the neighborhood REALLY is!" cackled Deborah. "I'll give you a hint: She has microscopic little boobies and a spooge-mask! HA!"

Roger buried his load inside my womb and carried me out of the shower like a ragdoll, carefully lowering me down on the bathroom floor - face-first on the tile. He left me on the ground, dripping wet, with my ass pointed at the ceiling. They the two boys rolled me onto my back.

My thighs and ass were still convulsing! I felt like I was paralyzed... I couldn't move!

When I finally recovered, I looked up at Deborah: She was still filming my naked, wet body!

"Turn... turn that off!" I gasped.

Instead, she laughed - and continued to film.

"Aw, look at those cute little nipples! And that adorable heart-shaped pubic design! But I'm afraid it's got to go..."

"Wh - What?!"

"Shaving pubes is standard nursing procedure. Hank, Roger - hold her down! I'm gonna shave her myself!"

Before I could react, the perv-twins had spread my legs ridiculously wide - like I was at the gynecologist's office.

"STOP!! WAIT!!" I screamed. "I - I don't wanna be shaved!"

"Boys, lick those tiny nipples of hers! It'll help me distract her."

Those creepy kids hovered over me with their mouths wide open. I tried to squirm, but my legs were pinned. I couldn't move!

"NOOOO!! NOT MY PUSSY HAIR! Anything but that! ANYTHING!!"

"What's the big deal, Charlotte?" asked Deborah, looking annoyed.

"I - I shaved myself once before... I don't like it! Without any pubic hair, I look like... like... like..."

My voice trailed off. 

"Oh! You mean, you look like a prepubescent little kid?" Deborah teased. "Is that what you're trying to say?"

I didn't say anything... but my face was so red, I guess I didn't have to.

"You heard me, guys: Lick those pathetic mini-nips! Lick 'em good! Take her mind off the FACT that she's gonna lose the last sign of her adulthood! 'Cause after THIS, no one is gonna believe she's an adult woman!"

Hank and Roger happily obliged, chewing away on my nips like they were bubblegum as Deborah bent between my legs with a razor in her hand.

I wanted to scream! I wanted to yell for help! But... but with their mouths on my tits - and their tongues circling my nips - all the sound was drained from my lungs. It was all I could do not to pass-out...

Within seconds, my pussy was as bald as a bowling ball. The cute little heart was history... and I was as naked as I've ever been, sprawled atop the bathroom floor. I... I couldn't believe it! I had always been so protective of my body and my reputation... and now I was bald and naked while three loser-kids from the neighborhood were looking down on me.

"Look at those tiny tits!" laughed Hank.

"Hell, forget about those tits! See how she looks with a freshly-shaved pussy!" snarked Roger. "Remember when she freaked out when we picked the bathroom lock, back when she was still our babysitter? Heh, heh! Who would've thought she would've sucked our dick and let us fuck her?"

"I know!" giggled Hank. "She's so small without her clothes! Even her pussy is small!"

"Well, it's a lot wider now," chortled Roger, adjusting his cock. "Haw!"

Their crude words jogged me out of my orgasmic purgatory. I quickly crossed my legs and covered my breasts in my hands.

"You bastards... stop filming! You must delete those pictures! PLEASE!! And... and hand me some clothes!"

Instead they pulled me onto my feet. I was face-to-face with the bathroom mirror. The image of my makeup-less lips, cheeks and eyes took me aback! Not only was I naked, I was totally barefaced! 

"AAHH!! I - I need to put on my makeup!" I shrieked, hiding my tits in my hands.

"But why, Charlotte?" teased Deborah. "You look so cute! I never knew you were so pale - or had so many ADORABLE freckles!"

Deborah took the hairbrush and combed my hair into a pair of pigtails - held together with bright pink ribbons.

"I... I don't wear my hair like this!" I cried.

"You do now! And put down your hands! Stop covering those pathetic little tits of yours! You've got nothing worth seeing anyway!"

With tears streaking down my face, I lowered my hands. My itsy-bitsy nipples were proudly jutting out once again...

"Just... just let me get my clothes back on! Please!"

I reached for my bra - but that BITCH Deborah snatched it away.

"I told you: No tight clothes. And besides, you don't need a bra anyway. DO YOU?"

"N - no...!" I tearfully whispered.

She pointed her phone at my wet, nude body. I could see the red light flashing.

"Tell everyone WHY you don't need a bra," she demanded.

"I... I don't need a bra 'cause... 'cause..."

"Say it!" 

"...'cause I don't have any boobs!" I bawled. "I try to fool people by stuffing my bra, but I really don't have any boobs at all! Wah! Wah!"

The McNally twins were cackling with laughter, like this was the funniest thing in the world.

"Don't worry," Deborah snickered, "I brought some clothes that used to belong to my little sister. I think they'll fit you perfectly. Lift up your arms!"

I did what she said, and she slid a bright pink t-shirt over my torso. When I saw what it looked like in the mirror, I nearly had a heart attack!

Oh. My. God.

It was a little kid's Doc McStuffin Disney shirt! And it was so snug, it would be 100 percent obvious to absolutely EVERYONE that I was completely flatchested. 

"I... I can't wear this!" I gasped.

"Sure you can. Now lift up your legs - I have some nice, pretty shorts for you too."

I looked down: The shorts were neon-yellow and had rainbows all over them. In record time, Deborah had pulled them up past my hips... but I guess her younger sister was on the tubby side, because these were so loose-fitting, I could barely keep them from sliding off! I had to keep holding the waistband just to stop them from dropping.

Hank and Roger were rolling on the floor in hysterics.

"Don't I get undies, at least?" I begged.

"No. I told you, NO tight-fitting accessories! Now come on, little girl," snickered Deborah, pulling me by my free hand. "Now that we have you dressed, we need to go to the mall to run a few errands."

"NOOOO!! You - you can't make me go out in public like this! I - I look like... like..."

"...Like a little girl? Well, we've all seen you naked, Charlotte. You ARE a little girl! THIS is the REAL you!"

"NOOOOO!! You can't! PLEASE!! My - my reputation! I - I need to put on my bra! I need to change my hair, apply my makeup and wear my adult clothes! Please, Deborah!"

But she continued dragging me to the door. I thought quickly:

"I can't go! My back! My leg! My concussion! See? I - I can't walk!"

"That's okay," Deborah cheerfully replied. "I've already thought of that."

She lifted me up by the armpits and carried me outside the front door... and placed me in a stroller.

A stroller!!

She strapped me in and started pushing me down to the street... past my Porsche in the driveway... past my mailbox... onto the sidewalk and towards the mall in the center of town.

My face was burning red! I tried to cover my eyes with my hands so nobody would recognize me. The idiot-twins, Hank and Roger, were happily strutting behind.

My nosy, eccentric old neighbor, Mrs. Trainor, was watering her prize-winning roses in her front yard. A nearsighted widow and an unrepentant busy-body, she was always trying to stick her nose into my private business. On countless occasions, I've had to tell her to butt-out. She was a judgmental old hag - always gossiping and always whining. 

"Oh, GOD!" I prayed. "PLEASE don't let her recognize me! I'll NEVER live it down!"

"Hello, my dear," the old lady greeted Deborah. "So nice to see you. Lovely day for a walk, isn't it?"

"Yes, ma'am!" Deborah joyfully answered.




Housewife's Humiliating Regression



Mrs. Trainor looked down at me and narrowed her eyes behind her bifocals.

"And WHO is this adorable little girl in the stroller? Why... she looks like Charlotte!"

I gulped!

"Charlotte? Is... is that you? Why, it IS! It IS Charlotte!"

My face turned red and tears began pouring down my eyes.

"Charlotte, what in the world are you doing in a stroller?! And what... what happened to your breasts? Your boobs have vanished!"

My lower lip trembled - and I burst into loud sobs!

"This is Charlotte's little cousin from out-of-town," Deborah replied.

"Oh. I see the family resemblance! Silly me, to think that this skinny little girl is Charlotte! My heavens!"

Then she looked down on me again: "Hello, little girl."

I said nothing; it was all I could do to catch my breath.

"Don't be rude!" Deborah admonished me. "Say hello to the nice neighbor! DO IT! Say hello."

"H - Hello!" I whimpered.

"Isn't she too old to be in a stroller?" asked Mrs. Trainor.

"Well, she's a bit tall for her age," Deborah lied. "And very lazy! Trust me, this is the only way to get her some sunlight. See how pale she is? Her freckles really stand out, don't they?"

"They sure do!" cackled Mrs. Trainor. "Freckles are so precious on a little girl. Every dot is a kiss from an Angel, my dear."

"Th... thank you," I gasped.

"But I must say, I love her Doc McStuffin shirt," the crazy old bat continued. "I've been trying to find one for my grandson, Timmy. No luck, though. Such a shame, because Doc McStuffin is his hero. He wants to be a doctor when hen he grows up."

A sick smile appeared on Deborah's face.

"Stand up, little girl," she said, unstrapping me and pulling me to my feet. "Put your arms in the air!"

Confused, I did what she said, my knees wobbling and my fingers trembling. I lifted my arms as high as I could.

Before I could react, Deborah had pulled my t-shit off my body! All at once! Before I could blink, I was topless on the sidewalk, in front of my nosy neighbor - and my tiny little tits in full view!

"AAAHHH" I shrieked. "My boobies!"

Then my loose-fitting shorts dropped to my ankles. My freshly-shaved pussy was totally exposed! I was naked again - with no makeup and those ridiculous pigtails! I quickly wrapped my arms around my chest and vagina and crouched low to the ground, to hide my nudity.

"Stop being foolish," Deborah scolded. "You don't have any boobies! Be a good girl and let me show your cool new shirt to your nice neighbor! And put your arms down! You have nothing to hide anyway!"

Pouting and watery-eyed, I stood up straight and put down my arms flat against my sides. I... I couldn't believe it!

"There, there," Mrs. Trainor told me, patting me on the head. "One day, you'll have big-girl boobies. And big-girl hair, too," she added, pointing at my crotch. "Just be patient, dear. You'll be a woman soon enough."

"I sure hope so!" I sobbed.

Cars were zipping by. Across the street, Mr. Parker - who works at the local bank (and is a member of the country club) - was checking his mail. And here I was, standing naked on the sidewalk, with my arms by my side!

"Aw, isn't she precious!" cooed Mrs. Trainor. "With her little freckles and adorable figure! They want to grow up so fast, don't they?"

"You have no idea!" laughed Deborah. "I've even caught her trying to stuff her bra!"

The McNally boys were literally rolling on the floor in hysterics.

"Now, you shouldn't do that, dear," Mrs. Trainor told me. "I think you're as cute as a bunny-rabbit, just the way you are."

"Can - can I cover myself, please?" I whimpered to Deborah. "There are people out! They - they can see me naked!"

"She's so shy!" marveled Mrs. Trainor. "Just give me a moment, dear... I want to see where this shirt is from..."

But with her old-lady pupils, it was taking her FOREVER to read the tag! She kept moving the label farther, then closer - farther, then closer. She finally gave up.

"Dear, could you read this for me?" Mrs. Trainor asked Deborah. "Oh, and where are her shorts from, too? They're simply adorable! I have a granddaughter from Toledo who'd look as cute as a button in them!"

"But of course, ma'am," Deborah answered. She lifted me up by the armpits once again - high into the air - so my shorts were left on the sidewalk. And I mean HIGH in the air: To the full extension of her arms.

"Hank, see where those shorts are from," Deborah ordered.

My mouth was wide open! This neighborhood tramp - this fucking BITCH - was holding me up as high up as she could! Mr. Parker was staring directly at my exposed pussy and tits! So were the cars driving by; I could see their faces turning towards me! That BITCH was literally dangling me midair, waving my naked flesh at anyone and everyone!

"Uh... let me see," struggled the half-literate McNally boy. "It, uh, says here they're from the Dis... the Dis... oh, the Disney Store."

Deborah was continuing to hold me high in the air, and I could faintly hear her sniggering under her breath. I just KNEW she was deliberately exposing me to as many people as possible. I felt so small... so helpless...

"Thank you, young man," said the old woman. "And where is her shirt from?"

"Um... oh yeah, it's from the Disney Store, too."

"The Disney Store!" exclaimed Mrs. Trainor. "I should've known! Thanks so much for helping me."

"It was our pleasure, ma'am." Deborah looked up at me. "Isn't that right, little girl?"

My heart was racing a mile-a-minute! I can't even describe how humiliating it felt to be suspended in the sky - without a shred of clothes on my body - on the same street where I live with my husband! I felt so ashamed... 

"I said," repeated Deborah, "ISN'T THAT RIGHT, LITTLE GIRL?!"

"Yes!" I squeaked. "Thank you for letting us help you, Mrs. Trainor!"

Finally, Deborah lowered me back to the ground. I was still naked, but at least I wasn't being elevated where everyone could see me. I hid behind my stroller and crouched low.

"You're not only adorable, but you're a polite little lady, too," marveled Mrs. Trainor. "Here are your clothes, babycakes. Thanks again for being such a big help."

"Great..." I mumbled, reaching for the clothes. But Deborah yanked them away from me.

"Did you just say 'great' to a nice older lady? That's NOT how you were raised! We've talked about this, 'babycakes': It's important to be polite and respect your elders. If you want your clothes back, give Mrs. Trainor a courtesy!"

Stunned and speechless, I half-bobbed my head. Sweat was pouring from my face! Then I desperately reached for my clothes - but again they were pulled away.

"Not from behind the stroller, babycakes! Over here - where everyone can see you!"

Fire engine-red, I staggered in front of Mrs. Trainor - and directly across the street from Mr. Parker, who was loitering by his mailbox. My titties wobbled and I could feel my pussy quivering with each step. Finally, I curtseyed again, low and subserviently. 

"Th - thank you!" I squealed.

"That's quite all right, dear. When my grandson comes to town, I'll tell him to look for you. Oh, you will have so much fun, playing with him in the sandbox. Ooh, maybe he'll be your boyfriend!"

Deborah nudged me in my ribs.

"Y... yay! I've always wanted a boyfriend!" I cried.

I guess that was what Deborah was looking for, because she FINALLY handed me back my clothes - THANK GOD. I hastily put them back on; Mr. Parker was watching me the whole time. I never thought I would've seen the day when I would be RELIEVED to put that ridiculous t-shirt and shorts back on my body... but I was!

"Back in the stroller, [snicker] babycakes!" Deborah told me.

So I sat back in the stoller and crossed my arms, hanging my head in despair.

They were soon pushing me along the sidewalk, far away from my neighbors. Hank and Roger could scarcely contain their guffaws:

"Haw, haw! Did you see our babysitter! Haw, haw! She looks more like the baby!"

"I know! Haw, haw!"

Deborah leaned down and whispered into my ear: "So how does it feel, Mrs. Rich-And-Powerful - with the perfect husband and perfect life? How does it feel to know that your REAL body is so pathetic, your own friends confuse you with a little kid?"

There... there was nothing I could say. It was true! I had been stripped naked in public... and my own neighbor thought I was an undeveloped little kid! And worst of all, my archenemy knew it. I just covered my eyes and cried - which, I'm sure, made me look even more immature in everyone else's eyes.

While I was still sniffling, Deborah and the McNally pushed me into the mall's food court. I had been to this mall a million times before - it had some of the trendiest clothes, most expensive handbags and the sexiest shoes (and the skimpiest lingerie) in the city - but NEVER in a stroller! I looked around, expecting everyone to wonder what an adult like me was doing in a stroller... but nobody said a word.

"Would you like some ice cream, pookie?" Deborah asked me, as we rolled past the dessert stand.

"No, thank you," I softly said.

"Too bad. You need some meat on your bones."

Moments later, she handed me a big chocolate ice cream cone.

"Deborah, I can't eat this," I complained. "I'm lactose intolerant. You eat it!"

"Don't talk back, babycakes!" she demanded, pushing the ice cream cone in my face, where it smeared over my lips and cheek, making a mess.

"Hey! Watch it! I - I need some napkins!"

"No you don't. Here..."

She pulled up the bottom of my shirt - exposing my tummy and breasts - and wiped my face clean.

"OH, NO!! PLEASE...!"

"Quiet, honey. Let Mommy wipe you."

"MY BREASTS!! You - YOU'RE EXPOSING ME!!"

"Hold on... let me get every last drop. You're SO messy!"

She took her time, mopping up my face with my shirt, displaying my tits in the food court. I wanted to scream, but I couldn't - because the last thing I wanted was more people staring!

"Uh, oh - there's a drop of chocolate on her shorts," said one of the McNally boys. (I couldn't see which one because the stupid Doc McStuffin shirt was covering my head.)

"Well don't just stand there," Deborah directed. "Clean it up."

I felt his fat, thick fingers reach inside my waistband... and very slowly, my shorts were pulled down to my knees.

This time, I couldn't control myself: "AAAIIIEEEEE!!"

"Heh, heh... quiet, babycakes!" he snorted. "Just gotta wipe-up this stain before it sets!"

The cool air conditioning was blowing on my exposed body. I could feel the wind blow down on my pussy - and despite my prayers, my nipples were hardening too.

"STOP IT!! YOU'RE DOING THIS ON PURPOSE!" I wailed.

"Be patient... heh, heh," chuckled the McNally boy. "I'm almost done..."

Finally, she released her grip. My shirt was still stuck over my head and arms, but I immediately lowered it and recovered myself. The McNally boy (I could now see it was Roger) then pulled my shorts back up, wiggling them past my butt. I quickly scanned the mall's food court, hoping nobody had seen me. Alas, there were all sorts of men and women smiling at me... like I was this cute, adorable pipsqueak who wasn't old enough to clean-up after herself. 

I blushed and began whimpering.

"My boobies and vagina! You - you showed everyone my boobies and vagina!" I cried. "The shower was one thing and the street was another - there was almost nobody there. But HERE?! There - there are so many people... and you showed them EVEYTHING! Wah!" 

"Big deal. They're so small, nobody noticed. Now finish your ice cream. Every last bite!" ordered Deborah. "And for now on, call me Mommy."

"Wh... why?!"

"Just do it! Or I'll get angry... and you wouldn't like me when I'm angry."

"Yes... Mommy."

I ate the ice cream as quickly as I could, but it was dripping faster than I could lick around the edges, and the stroller-ride was bumpy. I was making a mess... and I could feel my stomach making unhappy gurgling sounds.

But I didn't want to make "Mommy" angry so I ate everything, including the cone.

While being steered through the mall at breakneck speed, I did my best to lick my hands clean. Looking up, I noticed that my stroller was being pushed into Marcy's New York Boutique, my favorite store in the mall. They had the best clothes - by far the hottest, sexiest (and most expensive) dresses! The only thing I didn't like was their bitchy saleswomen. They were all college girls with model-quality bodies and cunty attitudes! Whenever I'd ask for a beautiful new design in a small or petite size, they'd roll their eyes and act like it was MY fault for inconveniencing them. 

On more than one occasion, I complained to the manager - and gotten some of the bitchier girls fired. (When you spend as much money as I do at the mall, the manager tends to listen. 'Cause if he doesn't listen, he knows I'll call his corporate bosses - and then HE'D be the one fired!)

"Deborah!" I panicked. "This is Marcy's New York Boutique!"

"So?"

"I - I can't go into that store looking like THIS! The saleswomen there... some of them, they... I mean, they..."

"...They hate you? Oh, I know! You've gotten some of my best girlfriends fired."

"But - but..."

"Look on the bright side, Charlotte: Maybe they won't recognize you."

She wheeled me past the adult section and towards the "Junior Miss" collection. Deborah gleefully approached a pretty saleswoman with fire-red hair, two nose piercings and an hourglass figure.

I knew this saleswoman well: Her name was Vanessa Smith. She was a college senior, a sorority princess and a wannabe fashion designer. And she was the biggest bitch on the planet! (I think she was dating the store manager, because no matter how much I complained about her, she was the only saleswoman I could never get fired.)

Time and time again, I'd see a beautiful new dress on the shelf, and ask Vanessa to fetch me one my size; she'd cop an attitude and say, "I'm sorry, ma'am. We make clothes for normal-sized women - not little midgets." I'd then go on a tirade - screaming at her, ridiculing her stupid piercings, and demanding to see the manager. At the end, I'd ALWAYS get my way. The manager would grovel at my feet and force Vanessa apologize to me.

"I'm... I'm sorry, ma'am," she'd mutter, looking down at my feet.

"Look me in the eye and say it, missy!" I'd counter. "Unless those Crackerjack toys in your nose are weighing down your face!"

Her lips would tremble, she'd be so angry! But she always, always capitulated at the end. Good! Serves her right for tangling with someone like ME! Hey, the customer is always right - and the REAL Golden Rule is, the one with the gold makes the rules! And I had the gold!

But I wasn't feeling so self-confident at the moment...

Deborah and Vanessa Smith gave each other warm, tight hugs, kissing each other on the cheek. I guess they both knew each other. Deborah whispered something in Vanessa's ear - and the saleswoman looked at me and GRINNED!

I cowered in the stroller and tried to hide my face...

The two girls walked over to me. I nervously looked up:

"Hi there, [snicker] little girl!" giggled Vanessa in an unnecessarily loud voice. "I understand you need some back-to-school clothes. Is that right?"

Avoiding eye contact, I nodded my head.

"Let me guess," she continued. "You're going to be in the... seventh grade?"

Seventh grade! What the fuck?! I graduated from COLLEGE more than five years ago! I was the president of my sorority! I dated the captain of the football team! Seventh grade?!

"Y... yes," I squealed. "I'll be going to the seventh grade!"

"Well, that's lovely," Vanessa laughed. "Come into the dressing room. We'll pick some cute new outfits for you."

"You heard her, babycakes," Deborah ordered. "Out of the stroller!"

She unbuckled my straps. But I just sat there.

"N - no, thank you. I... I don't wanna shop today."

"Babycakes," scolded Deborah, "don't make Mommy mad! Hank, Roger - escort Miss Fussypants to the changing room."

"NO - WAIT!" I shrieked.

The McNally boys ignored my protests, lifting me up by my upper-arms. I HATED how small I was! The two boys walked me to the dressing room - my feet never once touching the ground. But because my arms couldn't hold onto my loose-fitting shorts, they started to slide down my legs! My rear-end popped into view!

"Look at that cute little bum!" giggled Vanessa.

My shorts continued to slide, until they slipped all the way down my legs and dropped to the floor. I - I was naked from the waist down!

"AAAHH! My - my shorts!" I cried. "STOP! I - I need to put them back on!"

"Well, you'll have new clothes to try on anyway," Vanessa reasoned, smacking my bare ass. "Hurry up, little girl! Tee-hee!"

The perv-twins finally put my feet on the ground. I scampered to the dressing room as fast as I could...

I pulled the dressing room curtain shut and sat down on the stool. The feel of the cold plastic stool on my butt sent shivers down my spine. I was half-naked in my favorite clothing store! And my least-favorite saleswoman was here to "help" me! Christ! ...Had Deborah told her who I was??? Or did Vanessa recognize me??? No, that was crazy... I mean, with the pigtails, how could she?

I closed my eyes and prayed to Jesus: PLEASE let me escape my dignity intact! Please... I'll do anything you want!

Suddenly the curtain was pulled open: Deborah, Vanessa and the McNally boys walked in. I instantly covered my lower half with my arms and crouched as low as I could.

"See?" laughed Deborah to Vanessa. "She's so modest! Isn't she precious?"

"She's a cutie pie!" agreed Vanessa. "And what a pleasant change, 'cause just between you and me, some of my other customers are total pains in the ass! Like, there's this one woman - a rich-bitch who's built like an anorexic Muppet, yet still throws a hissy-fit if the clothes aren't in her size. What a drama queen! I'm so glad YOU aren't like that, little girl!"

She ruffled my hair with her hand and gave my pigtails a wiggle - while Deborah and the perv-twins were laughing like loons.

"Thank you, ma'am!" I pathetically croaked.

"Well, stand up, cutie pie. Let's find you some nice new clothes."

I stood up, with my toes inverted - and my hands copiously placed over my pussy.

"Lift your arms, cutie pie."

I hesitated.

"But... I don't wanna let them see my naked vagina!" I whimpered.

"I understand, sweetie. But you need to remember that you're just a little girl. Nobody thinks of you as sexy. Maybe one day, when your body develops - but right now, you don't have anything a boy would find attractive."

"You can say that again!" cackled Deborah.

I shot daggers at her! Grrrrrr!!

"So arms up in the air, cutie pie," Vanessa ordered. "I don't have all day!"

I slowly removed my arms from my privates, revealing my shaved pussy to everyone once again. Sigh... Over the past five years, only my husband and my gynecologist had permission to see my pussy. Now? EVERYONE - even my worst enemies - were getting free looks!

"Very good. But we also need for you to put your arms in the air, sweetie."

I lifted my arms as high as I could. Vanessa swiftly whisked my chocolate-stained t-shirt off my body, exposing my tiny little tits.

For reasons I couldn't fully comprehend, I left my arms extended in the air, and stood there buck-ass naked before all four of them... barefoot and without a stitch of clothes on my body.

Vanessa burst into laughter.

"Oh, my! I mean... WOW! Your real body is SO tiny! Ha, ha, ha!"

My face turned as bright as a tomato.

"I'm sorry, cutie pie - I just didn't realize how TINY you are!"

She took me by the hand and pulled me out of the dressing room. I had already walked 20-or-so steps before I realized what was happening.

"Wait! WAIT!! Where - where are you taking me?!"




Housewife's Humiliating Regression



"Oh... a few people want to meet you. And maybe we can pick some pretty new clothes together. Come along, no dillydallying."

"BUT I'M NAKED!!"

"That's okay. Nobody will mind. It's not like anyone would confuse you with a REAL woman."

Before I knew it, I was standing 100 percent naked in the middle of the store! Right by the escalators! Men, ladies and salespeople were walking by me! Senior citizens were pointing and laughing! Cell-phone cameras were flashing! Shopping carts were zipping forwards and backwards, nearly running over my toes! And because that CUNT Vanessa was holding my hand so tightly, I couldn't even cover myself! I... I was forced to stand there.

"Please!" I bawled. "Please take me back to the dressing room!"

"Stop your bellyaching, little girl," Vanessa hissed. "And stand-up straight! In fact, put your other hand by your side! No covering those stubby little tits. Trust me, you've got nothing worth seeing anyway!"

She grabbed the microphone near the sales counter, and her voice boomed over the store's intercom:

"Would the manager and all available sales associates come to the Junior Miss section ASAP? Again, would the manager and all available sales associates come to the Junior Miss section ASAP? There's an extra-special VIP who needs our attention!"

Soon, the same store manager that I had bitched at repeatedly - plus half-a-dozen saleswomen - were circling around me.

"Vanessa, what's going on?" asked the store manager, a good-looking boy who couldn't be older than 24 or 25. He was the person whom I had spoken to countless times: I was one of his best customers, and if I wasn't PERFECTLY satisfied with my treatment (or the selection), I'd let him have it! And believe me, I wasn't one to shy away from voicing my complaints! 

It got to the point that he'd recoil in fear whenever I approached - because he knew I'd tear him from limb to limp if he didn't do EXACTLY what I wanted. Several times I had berated him until he was on the verge of tears.

But this time, the store manager looked at me - and began smiling!

"Why is this pigtailed little girl naked?" he asked Vanessa. "She doesn't even have any underwear on her! Hmm... why does she look so familiar?"

Oh, God... I PRAYED for the earth to swallow me alive - and spare me this humiliation! I prayed and prayed and prayed...

"This 'little girl' is someone we all know very well," Vanessa told the group. "Remember that bitchy cunt Charlotte? The whiny rich-bitch who's always screaming about none of our clothes fitting her, who's married to that super-cute husband?"

"Yeah? We all hate her," the manager said. "So what?"

"Take a good, close look at this 'little girl' and let me know if she reminds you of anyone!"

Oh. My. God. I mean... OH MY GOD!!

All their eyes flooded to my body, examining every last inch: My face, my tits, my hips, my ass, my pussy and my legs. They walked around me, scrutinizing my entire body. And then, suddenly, they started to gasp - and point - and laugh - and stare.

"No way!"

"THIS is Charlotte?!"

"Seriously?"

"BWAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHA!!"

Vanessa glared at me: "Put your hands on your head, bitch, and twirl around!"

With tears streaming down my cheeks, I did what she asked: My hands were placed on my head and I twirled in a circle, giving everyone a panoramic view of my naked flesh. 

"Well, fuck!" exclaimed the manager. "No wonder we has such a hard time finding clothes that fit. LOOK at her! I mean, wow... THIS is what the great and powerful Charlotte really looks like?!"

"I know!" laughed one of the girls. "She has the body of a little kid!"

"But... but what happened to her breasts?" queried a confused salesgirl.

"Ask her!" laughed Vanessa.

"Little girl - er, I mean, Charlotte - what happened to your breasts?"

My lower lip quivered and my knees began to buckle.

"I... I stuff my bra!"

The laughter was deafening! Even the nearby customers who were watching out of curiosity were laughing at me!

I felt dizzy. The lights started dimming. Old people... ugly people... the janitors... all the losers whom I barely even acknowledged were getting to see me naked - without any makeup, without any falsies or artifices - and I was being forced to admit my most embarrassing secret. Those breasts that I had kept hidden from everyone, including my own husband, Carl... here they were, for everyone to ridicule.

"Say it louder," Vanessa demanded, holding the store's microphone to my lips.

"I STUFF MY BRA!! I STUFF MY BRA!! I STUFF MY BRA!!"

The words reverberated throughout the mall.

Wherever I looked, all I saw were the faces of people pointing at various parts of my naked flesh. Several of them had cameras out, recording my humiliation. My entire life flashed before my eyes... 

Still not believing what he was seeing, the store manager reached forward - and grabbed both of my tiny nipples! With all ten of his fingers! He simply leaned over and gave them a tight squeeze! And... and I just stood there with my hands on my head, helpless to stop him! It felt like it was happening in slow motion - this low-level store manager was helping himself to my TITS!

"She doesn't seem so intimidating anymore," laughed the manager.

He spanked my pussy three times, making a slapping sound, and then ran his index finger up and down my pussy lips, tracing my opening. Then he playfully squeezed my chin and patted my cheek.

"I can't believe THIS is Charlotte! WAHAHAHAHAHA!"

My... my soul was being crushed. My spirit was dying. My "feminine mystique" was being dismantled and destroyed in broad daylight. Things COULD NOT get any worse, I thought. I mean, it's just not possible! This was the lowest of the low... the most humiliating situation in the history of womankind.

But I was wrong:

"Oh, Charlotte, dear!" sang Deborah. "It's time for your suppository!"

"Wh... what?!"

She was balancing a big yellow pill on the tip of her finger.

"I - I don't need a suppository, Deborah!" I squeaked.

"No," she corrected me, "you don't NEED a bra. But you DO need a suppository. Now bend over and spread your cheeks! Do it - while everyone watches!"

It... it was too much. I crossed my arms and glared at her. I had to make a decision.

It was now or never.

I made up my mind: I NEEDED to reclaim my dignity - to take a stand against these bullies - and to show them that I was STILL a real woman. I took a deep breath:

"Stop. It ends right now," I boldly declared in a firm, even voice.

They halted in their tracks.

"You fucking creeps took advantage of me," I continued. "I was hurt, and you took advantage of me. Well, congratulations. You stripped the richest, prettiest housewife in the neighborhood of all her clothes, and forced her to parade around in pigtails and nothing else. You forced her to admit to having small breasts. Well, congratu-fucking-lations! I hope you're proud of yourselves! But none of this changes the fact that I'm rich and beautiful - and YOU PEOPLE are losers! You hear me?! You're losers!! Now, I DEMAND that you delete those photos on your phones AT ONCE! I DEMAND an apology! And I DEMAND my real clothes! NOW!! ...Or I'll call the police, call the corporate office, press charges, and throw ALL OF YOU in jail!"

All eyes were on me, but instead of mocking me, they were now squirming uncomfortably. Good! THIS is how it's supposed to be!

"She's right," Vanessa said softly. "We're gonna eventually have to let her go..."

"You better believe it! Now say you're sorry - or I'll have all of you fired... or WORSE!"

"I... I'm sorry, Charlotte," said the manager.

"Me too, Charlotte... I mean, ma'am," added Vanessa.

"That's better," I smugly replied. I turned to the store manager and shook my fist at his head: "And if you EVER touch me again, I'll break your arms off!"

"Y - yes ma'am," he stuttered.

"Here," Vanessa said, taking me by the hand. "Let me take you somewhere so you can change, Charlotte."

"Good. And be quick about it, missy!"

I followed her down an unfamiliar hallway. The clothes were getting progressively younger - from adult to Junior Miss to children's. Suddenly, we reached a platform with a narrow wooden door.

"In here," Vanessa told me, opening the door.

"Thank you. Now get out of my way, you ugly pierced cunt! I expect to receive store credit for a brand-new collection of beautiful clothes to change into - or there'll be hell to pay! Get them NOW!"

With my chin in the air, I summoned all my dignity and walked past her, marching up the platform and through the wooden door. 

It - it was so bright! 

I literally had to close my eyes because of the bright light; I couldn't see anything. Then I heard the door slam shut behind me.

"Vanessa...? Um... Vanessa?"

Rubbing my eyes, I struggled to readjust and was finally able to look around: There - there were businessmen walking down the street! Joggers, tourists and wealthy MILFs with shopping bags! Hipsters walking their dogs! Cute college girls in packs of six or seven! Cars at streetlights, waiting for the light to change!

Oh... God. 

OH MY GOD!!

I was in the display window. I WAS NAKED, STANDING IN THE STORE'S DISPLAY WINDOW!

And it wasn't a display window for sleek adult fashion either: It was a display window for small children. VERY small children: There was a training potty, a changing table and a nursery set-up. Images of Sesame Street characters and happy unicorns adorned the walls.

This was the display window for infants and preschoolers.

And I was 100 percent naked.

Nobody outside noticed me at first. But then one woman pointed and grinned, followed by another... and then another... and then another. Soon, there was a crowd of people surrounding the window.

I covered my tits and pussy in my arms and let out a scream:

"EEK!! VANESSA!! LET ME OUT!! LET ME OUT!! EVERYONE CAN SEE ME!!"

"But Charlotte!" called the voice from outside the door. "Just tell them that you're rich and pretty! I'm sure they'll do what you want. HA!!"

My tiny little tits. My shaved pussy. My embarrassingly small body.

I crouched low, but the blinding lights of flashing cameras was disorienting. Strangers were photographing me! Lowlifes were gawking at me! I was staggering around like an unsteady drunkard, desperate to reclaim my equilibrium...

Suddenly the wooden door opened - and in came Vanessa and Deborah. They were both wearing nurses' uniforms!

"What are you doing?!" I shrieked. "Let me out!!"

"I TOLD you, Charlotte," Deborah answered. "It's time for your suppository."

Vanessa walked over to me. She was wearing sexy heels - and was so much taller than me! I... I never realized how much taller she was. I felt so small... so insignificant.

"Arms down!" she ordered. "Stop hiding your body! Let everyone see what a rich, pretty woman really looks like!"

I... I didn't have a choice. With tears streaming, I stood up straight and lowered my arms, sticking out my flat chest and exposing my hairless pussy.

Another flash of cameras from outside the window blinded me!

While I was still blinking, Vanessa picked me up by the armpits.

"Hee, hee! My groceries weigh more than you!"

She threw me up in the air and caught me, and then held me up to the window - face-first - so everyone could have a nice, long look.

More flashing cameras!

"Smile at your adoring audience, Charlotte!" Vanessa teased.

Instead I burst into loud, pathetic sobs. Every time I cried, I could feel my micro-nips wobble.

"WAH, WAH!! I DON'T WANNA!! WAH, WAH!!"

"Aw, I think Mrs. Rich-and-Powerful is grumpy!" giggled Deborah. "Put her on the changing table!"

Vanessa, still holding me in her arms, walked over to the changing table and gently placed me down on my back. With one hand, she grabbed both my ankles and pinned them over my head.

"Wow! Even her butthole is tiny!" she giggled.

"I know!" laughed Deborah, readying her fingers. "This is gonna be a tight fit..."

Her finger then pushed a small pill into my rectum. It felt so strange - and so hideously uncomfortable. At first it was just the pill and her fingertip inside me. But then her finger kept pushing...

"OW, OW, OW!!" I yelped.

She kept pushing and pushing - until her finger was all the way inside me! Right down to the knuckle.

"WAH!! WAH!! I DON'T LIKE IT!! TAKE IT OOOUUUUUUT!!

My toes were wiggling in the air! My hands were gripping the sides on the changing table! Beads of sweat were racing down my forehead! I turned my head to look out the window: To my horror, the audience of rubberneckers had tripled in size!

Vanessa peered over and reached in between my legs. She opened my pussy lips with one hand and gripped my clitoris with the other.

"OOOOHH!! OOOOHHHHHH!! MY CLITTY!!"

Vanessa began rubbing and massaging my most private, most sensitive body part. I was in a state of shock! And to my dismay, her fingers felt velvet smooth - like they were made of magic. Firebolts sizzled through my loins. My mouth began to water. And while Vanessa was playing with me, Deborah kept rotating her finger inside my anus - 180 degrees this way, then 180 degrees the other.

"C'mon, Mrs. Rich-And-Pretty!" Vanessa angrily whispered in my ear. "I want you to cum for me! I want you to look me in the eye while you cream yourself, you naughty little girl!"

"OOOOOHHHH!! OOOOOOOHHHH!! OOOOOHHHHHHHHHH!!"

"That's it," she cooed. "Yesterday you were parading all over town with your rich husband and your fake tits! I saw you! Fancy Charlotte was acting like she was better than everyone else. Now look at you!"

"UUUUUNNNNNGHH!! I - I - OOOOOHHHHH!!" 

"HA!" she giggled, shaking my clitty like it was a saltshaker. "You're naked on an infant's changing table - in the display window of your favorite store - with a finger in your ass and your clit is being fingered!"

My hips began bucking involuntarily. My nipples crinkled and hardened. My face turned crimson and my entire body was covered with a thick layer of sweat.

"OOOOOOOHHHHHH!! NO! NO!! NOOOOOOOO!!"

My pussy erupted with sweet, sticky liquid. Vanessa's hand was now making a SLOSHING sound as her fingertips entered and exited my clitty.

SLOSH, SLOSH, SLOSH.

"Please... remove your hand, Vanessa! PLEASE!! I - I can't take much more! Please, I beg you! Don't make me cum! Not here! Not with everyone watching!"

Instead, she rolled the changing table so it faced the store's window, giving the audience a direct view of my gaping pussy and bent-over ass! And with my legs pinned over my head, there was absolutely no way to shield my body!

"Cum for me, you pathetic little bitch. Do it! Do it!! DO IT!!"

SLOSH, SLOCH, SLOSH.

"OOOOOOHHHHH GOOOODDDD!! UUUUUNGGGGGGHHHHHH!!"

I exploded in an unbelievable orgasm, violently bucking my hips up and down. The two girls moved away just in time - and I squirted all over the display window like a Sea World whale!

Minutes later, I still couldn't stop my hips from bucking.

When I finally recovered, I pulled my legs down and covered my pussy and tits with my hands. I looked up at the window: There must've been a hundred people watching me! Deborah and Vanessa were standing in the corner, filming the whole thing with their smartphones.

"No! Noooooooo!!"

I sat up and started bawling my pretty little eyes out.

"You... you've ruined me! Wah! I - I can never show my face here again!"

But then my stomach began to rumble.

"Ow... Ow! What was in that suppository," I moaned. "My stomach! Ow...!"

"Oh, it's a laxative, babycakes!" grinned Deborah. "Not that you needed it - after all, aren't you lactose intolerant?"

"NOOOOOO!! I - I need to go to the bathroom! PLEASE!! Let - let me out of here!"

Vanessa pointed to the little kid's training potty just inches away from the display window.

"There you go, sweetie."

By now I was weeping uncontrollably and my entire body was shaking.

"PLEASE! I - I can't! Please don't make me go potty while everyone watches! I - I'm a woman! A lady! I... I need my privacy. You CAN'T!! PLEASE don't humiliate me like that!"

Everyone has their phobias. For some, it's spiders. For me, it's the idea of going #2 in public. Don't ask me to explain it, but I CANNOT go #2 in a public bathroom. I need to be home - and I need Carl out of the house. The idea of someone walking in on me, when I'm sitting on the toilet, going #2?! It's my worst fear in the world.

"Sit down and go boom-boom, Miss Rich-and-Powerful," teased Vanessa.

"Wah! Haven't you done enough!" I cried. "Don't take away ALL my dignity! You - you can't! PLEASE! PLEASE!!"

But Deborah picked me up by the armpits, held me up by the window for another round of pictures. I didn't even bother hiding my body at this point; I simply stared back with a blank expression - my tits and pussy dangling before everyone's eyes. Then she placed me on the potty.

"Be a good girl and go boom-boom!" she giggled. "Go on!"

"WAAAAHHHHH!! WAHHHHHH!! WWWAAAAAAHHHH!!"

And that's when I lost control of my bowels. I just covered my face with my hands and relieved myself while a hundred strangers stared.

With teary, weepy eyes, I looked up at my tormentors.

"You... you mean girls! You horrible girls!! You made me go boom-boom in front of everybody! How... how COULD you?!"

"Don't cry, Baby Boom-Boom!" snickered Vanessa.

"Baby Boom-Boom!" laughed Deborah. "That's hilarious! Ha, ha! That's totally her new name: Baby Boom-Boom!"

"DON'T CALL ME BABY BOOM-BOOM!!" I screamed, thrashing my pink little fists while sitting on the training potty. "I'm a beautiful, mature, sophisticated lady! I'm rich and sexy and powerful! I'm absolutely not Bab-"

Boom! I farted loudly on the potty.

"What were you saying, Baby Boom-Boom?" teased Vanessa.

"N... nothing," I cried, covering my tits with my hands.

"Lower your hands this instant! And say your new name - loud and clear!"

I put down my hands and unveiled my titties yet again.

"I'm... I'm Bay Boom-Boom," I answered in an unnaturally high-pitched voice. 

"HA, HA, HA, HA!" 

The two girls lifted me off the potty and placed me back onto the changing table, cleaning me with baby wipes. Once again my feet were pinned behind my head and past my ears. Once again, my most private parts were fully disclosed to throngs of onlookers.

Only this time, when they were done, Vanessa powdered my bottom and my pussy, rubbing the baby powder into my sensitive crevices and folds. And while Vanessa was busy powdering me, Deborah tied a pink baby bonnet to my head.

They took me down from the table, and I staggered wearily past the display window, fanning my pussy and my ass. Clouds of billowy white powder were following me everywhere I went.

The door flew open: In walked the store manager and two other saleswomen whom I've bickered with in the past.

"Aw, isn't she adorable with the baby bonnet! Hee, hee!" laughed the girl. "OMG! Is that baby powder on her privates?"

"Yup! Ask her what her new name is!" sneered Deborah.

"Okay! Little girl, what's your name?"

I looked up at her with my lower lip pouting out.

"I'm... I'm Baby Boom-Boom!" I squeaked.

The laughter that followed was so fucking loud, the window outside was vibrating. I looked up at the signboard overhead. I had seen that sign a zillion times before; it was prominently placed so that all the pedestrians and cars could see it. Usually it promoted a new sale or promotion. But now it said, in bright neon lights: "Baby Boom-Boom's Nursery!"

Deborah held up a diaper.

"Does Baby Boom-Boom need a diaper?"

I felt like I was in an alternate reality. I was no longer the sexy, powerful wife of Carl. I was no longer the beautiful lady who struck fear in the hearts of lowly sales clerks. I was now Baby Boom-Boom - the flatchested, pathetic FREAK who was an object of ridicule - and whose naked body was free to be examined by anyone who wanted to watch.




Housewife's Humiliating Regression



"Yeth, pwease! Baby Boom-Boom needs a pwetty new diaper, pwease!"

I danced around the room, pointing to my crotch,

"If Baby Boom-Boom doesn't get a new diaper, I might have a widdle accident!"

Doubled-over with laughter, Vanessa asked me, "Baby Boom-Boom, explain to everyone how your body works."

"Well, dis is my widdle boobies," I said, pointing to my tits. "All I have is widdle nipples. Nothing more! And here is my widdle puss-puss. See? Here it is!" Then I bent over: "This is my widdle fanny. I was a good girl and went boom-boom on the big-girl potty! Hooway for Baby Boom-Boom," I sang.

The sales manager picked me up again, scarcely able to contain his laughter. He held me up to inspect me, and then waved me at the store's window - and this time, for reasons I still can't comprehend, I waved at everyone!

Several of them waved back. 

He put me on the changing table and pulled up my legs. 

24-hours earlier, he would've kissed my ass - but now he was diapering it! He grabbed a diaper and stuck it directly beneath my fanny. But he stopped... just before sealing my diaper closed. It was left open, with my pussy pointing at the ceiling.

"Hold on, everyone," the manager said with a mischievous twinkle.

He unzipped his pants and whipped out his cock.

"This fuckin' bitch has reamed my ass every fuckin' day," he told the others. "Every time she opened her mouth, I'd cower in fear. She made my job a living hell. Now... I want her to OPEN her mouth."

He placed his hand firmly on my pussy, stuck a finger inside me and stuck out his dick so that is slapped me in the face. 

"Suck my dick, Baby Boom-Boom!"

"Yeth, thir!" I lisped, sucking his cock for all it was worth.

Glug, glug, glug, glug!

Never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined that this much-younger store manager would have me on a baby's changing table - with his finger buried in my snatch - and have ordered me to give him a blowjob. But... but... here it was.

His finger was wiggling my clitty, making me wet again. But before I could cum, he shot a load down my throat. 

I swallowed every last drop. 

"Ahhhh," he sighed. "Good girl!"

Only after zipping himself back up did he finish taping-up my diaper. It was an absurdly puffy diaper with baby ducks on it.

I looked down at my bare chest.

"Does Baby Boom-Boom get a top to cover her widdle boobies?" I squeaked. "See? My widdle boobies are showing!"

"No, Baby Boom-Boom doesn't need a top, does she?" Vanessa answered.

"No, I guess not!" I agreed.

They left me in the nursery to waddle around and play with my toys, while the audience outside the window laughed and pointed. And that's where they'll keep me... until my husband comes home.

THE END