The Greatest Humiliation Story Ch 03

Part 3: The Night Before Rachel's Comeuppance

Once again, I spent the night at Mrs. Lovington's house. I stayed over pretty regularly; maybe five nights a week, ever since Timmy and me became friends. In years past, the only time I avoided visiting was when the bitch-cousins, Abby and Yvette, were in town. They were horrible! No matter what Timmy and me were doing, they'd figure out a way to ruin it:

Back when we were little kids playing Army Man in the backyard, those BITCHES - just because they were older and bigger - would grab us, beat us up and steal our uniform - leaving us shivering in the cold in nothing but our tighty-whities! They'd give us wedgies and make us do stupid dances before we'd get our clothes back.

It got worse as we grew older, especially after we turned 18, 'cause the cousins' torture took on a sinister, sexual overtone - like they got-off humiliating us whenever they could:

If I'd go to the bathroom to take a leak, the girls would barge in. "What a cute little winky!" Yvette laughed. "Yeah, that looks like a penis - only smaller! Hee, hee! Look at the BIG 18-year-old stud!" giggled Abby. (I'd cry for them to get out... but they'd stand right over me and stare! Once, they took a picture!)

To FULLY satisfy their female curiosity, one afternoon they cornered us in Timmy's room and ordered us to pull down our pants... and then they measured our dicks with rulers! Our balls, too! I mean, they literally forced us to stand still - with our pants and underwear around our ankles - and made us stick out our yoohoos to be measured! When we tried to escape, they flipped us over their knees and spanked us on our bare asses! We tried to fight back, but after getting our butts beaten until we wept like babies (which was SO fucking degrading), we did what they wanted, and with tears in our eyes we let them hold and measure our manhood. But because they were so intimidating - I mean, we were scared shitless of those evil BITCHES - our penises... you know... kind of... restricted! (Much to their laughter and vicious cackling: "You two are pathetic!" "My pinky-finger is bigger!" "Ha, ha, ha!" "Look how TINY these LITTLE BOYS are!!")

Two weeks earlier, they lined-up dates with a pair of college studs from the nearby university. Football stars. Abby and Yvette pointed us out to their dates when they came to the house, using the "one-inch" hand-gesture, staring at our crotches... and laughing, like it was the funniest thing in the world. Their dates laughed, too.

Well, now the tables had turned!

Since "mature" Yvette turned out to have a not-so-mature body, she had an extra-early 7:00 p.m. bedtime. I guess she was tired, because she was completely knocked out by 7:30. Timmy and me decided to do the hand-in-hot-water prank one more time...

...and once again, it worked! Abby overflowed her diaper, shrieking in terror!

Mrs. Lovington was FURIOUS!

"You can't even go consecutive days without wetting the bed?!" screamed Mrs. Lovington. "I put you in diapers, and you STILL stain my furniture?!"

"I - I don't know what's happening," cried Yvette. "I never do this at home! Promise!"

Once again, Yvette was required to strip naked in front of us, put her soiled jammies in a plastic bag and take another bath. Only this time, Mrs. Lovington added four new rules to the household:

First, Yvette was no longer allowed to sleep in a "big girl" bed. Timmy's old crib was brought down from the attic - the one that was decorated with pictures of Ernie, Bert and Elmo!

"A - a crib?! But I'm an adult!" she squeaked, hiding her little boobies and hairless twat behind her arms.

"Your bladder says otherwise, dear," the Empress answered.

Two, Yvette's diapers were now EXTRA thick and EXTRA absorbent.

Mrs. Lovington took Yvette by the hand and marched her out of the room - and then they returned, with Yvette wearing her new diaper. The difference was like night and day: The old ones were thinner and discreet; under her clothes, you could scarcely tell she was wearing them. This one was so thick and puffy, "mature" Yvette had to waddle around bowlegged!

"I don't like it!" the humiliated cousin wailed, her fingers covering her nips. "I look stupid!"

"And I don't like doing extra loads of laundry, dear."

Three, during nighttime, it was diapers ONLY: no jammies allowed.

"But - but - anyone could look in and see me topless!" Yvette cried in alarm.

"Now, dear... why would anyone want to look at THOSE little things?"

Yvette hung her head. Timmy and me were rolling on the floor in laughter!

Four, since Yvette was obviously having "bathroom issues," not only did she no longer have wiping-privileges, but now one of us had to stand in with her and OBSERVE her while she "made" in the toilet. And no longer was she allowed to use the adult toilet, but a small, Fisher-Price training-toilet was brought down from the attic - just for Yvette.

"You... you can't be serious!" gasped the bitchy cousin. "I don't want someone to watch me use the bathroom! I'm a WOMAN! I - I need my privacy! Please, Aunt Lacy - I'm begging you, don't do this to me! Leave me my dignity! I'm a WOMAN!! PLEASE!!"

"Don't 'please' me," retorted Mrs. Lovington. "If you were a real woman, you'd have breasts. DO you have breasts? If you were a real woman, you'd have pubic hair. DO you have pubic hair?"

Yvette sadly shook her head "no."

"Look at you! Without your clothes and falsies, you look just like a grade-schooler. Except a grade-schooler is usually potty trained!"

"WAAAAH!" wailed Yvette, wearing nothing but a diaper.

A few minutes later, Yvette had to use her new little-girl potty. Mrs. Lovington put us in charge. Wearing her extra-thick diaper and nothing else (and covering her tiny tits in her hands) Yvette waddled over.

"S - seriously, you guys don't need to watch!" she cried. "I know how to use a fucking toilet! Go away! Leave!"

"Don't be silly," said Timmy, untaping her diaper and pulling down the front. "You know you're not big enough for that kind of responsibility!"

I leaned in to take a peek:

Her pussy seemed unusually puffy - much pinker than normal. Maybe a little moist. I think Yvette noticed too, because she began blushing when she saw me staring. She wobbled slightly as Timmy removed her puffy diaper from her body.

"We need to make sure you don't have any more accidents, Little Yvette," I added, patting her on the head. (Oh, how she GLARED at me!) We then carefully positioned her on the training-toilet, but because it was so small, Yvette's knees were almost up to her chin. She looked so comical, sitting there naked, holding her breasts!

"Hands down!" ordered Timmy. "You know you're not supposed to cover yourself! Now concentrate! It's the only way you'll learn!"

Choking a sob, Yvette put her hands down to her side, revealing her innocent little nipples to our adolescent eyes. She grinded her teeth and rocked back and forth on the toilet seat for a moment -

- and then "mature" Yvette farted! Loudly! It was the first time I had ever heard a woman fart!

Timmy and me looked at each other in surprise... and then we started cracking up!

"This can't be happening!" wailed Yvette. "I HATE YOU!! I HATE ALL OF YOU!! I'M A GROWN WOMAN, FOR CHRIST'S SAKE!! I'M MATURE AND SOPHISTICATED AND - "

Then she farted again. The sound made her nips jiggle!

"Wah, wah! WAAAHH!!"

Tears were rolling down her eyes... followed by the sound of her urine echoing inside the potty.

"Look at you, going potty like a big girl," giggled Timmy. "I'm so proud of you!"

"F - Fuck you!" she cried, her face bright red. "I'm still older than both of you!"

She was right! Less than a week ago, Yvette had been dressed to the hilt - with high heels, pantyhose, perky (fake) breasts, and a wardrobe full of "sexy professional vixen" dresses, skirts and power-suits. She was dating college hunks and sneering at all the "losers" in Middletown. Back then, Timmy and me were the kids. ...And now?

Little Yvette was squatting topless on a training-potty! While we watched!

"Oh, you look SO much older and SO mature! Okay, Little Yvette, are you all done? Or do you still have to go too-toot?"

"I... I'm all done," she sniffled. "I don't have to toot-toot anymore. Can - can I please cover my breasts now? Please? I - I don't like it when you can see them."

She looked so pathetic, sitting there naked with a pout on her face!

"Not yet, Little Yvette. Assume the position so we can wipe you clean!" giggled Timmy.

Moaning in despair, she awkwardly stumbled off the training-toilet, bent all the way over, put her head on the floor, and pulled back her butt-cheeks and gaped her vay-jay with her hands. Down below, her upside-down nipples were bobbing slightly as she breathed - as hard as marbles.

"You - you assholes! Hurry up and finish," she wailed. "I - I just wanna go to bed!"

"You don't have a bed anymore, Little Yvette. You have a crib," I corrected. "And speaking of assholes, yours looks red. I think you need some Desitin. You know, for your diaper rash."

"Diaper rash?!" she cried. "This is sooooo humiliating! This can't be happening!"

While Timmy was mopping around her pussy, gleefully toying with her pussy and poking around her inside, I put a dab of Desitin on my finger and dabbed the outline of her anus.

"It's c - cold!" she yelped. "W - wipe it off! I don't like it!"

Without warning, I stuck my finger inside her ass - all the way down to the knuckle!

"AAAAAHHHH" she cried.

I'll never forget how warm it felt...

At that same moment, Timmy began massaging her clitty with one hand, and pulling on one of her tender nips with the other. I grabbed the unattended nip and twirled it too.

"Your hands!" she squealed. "Noooo! Don't make me... NOOO!!"

Her body responded immediately: Her hips began bucking and "mature" Yvette - ass up, head down - had a massive orgasm, squirting all over Timmy's hand!

"OOOOooooooohhhhhhhhhhhh... OH, NOOOOOO!! NOT NOWWWW!! NOT IN FRONT OF YOU TWOOOO!! OOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHhhhhhh!!"

Yvette collapsed face-first on the bathroom tile, with my finger still stuck inside her ass.

"I... I can't believe you stupid little kids made me orgasm! I'll NEVER live this down!" she sobbed.

We gave her a few minutes to catch her breath, then rolled her over (I had to twist my shoulder, because my finger was still stuck in her rear!). Timmy took her dainty feet by the ankles and pinned them to her ears.

"Why, I just don't understand it," he snickered. "Little Yvette! You're STILL wet! Your entire puss-puss is soaking!"

She made no further effort to shield her body, but by the way her eyes weren't blinking and her lower lip was trembling, I could tell she was listening to every word.

I wiggled out my finger from her butthole (with a "POP!") and washed my hand in the sink while Timmy used half-a-box of baby wipes to clean her.

"Someone's been a messy little baby!" Timmy teased. "You leaked all over your thighs and tushy, too! Bad girl!"

And he have her a short, hard spank on her vulnerable little butt.

"Wah! Wah!"

We then took turns powdering her privates and reapplied her puffy diaper. She didn't say a thing as we carried her in our arms, bare-chested to her crib.

"Nighty-night, Little Yvette!" we giggled.

Yvette just laid there like a zombie, her overly-long legs hanging out of the crib, her hands flat on the miniature mattress. Her small nipples bobbled with every breath, and she watched her baby mobile spin and spin and spin...

One down, one to go:

Unlike Yvette, Abby was still allowed to wear her big-girl clothes, but Mrs. Lovington had confiscated her (surprisingly large) collection of super-tight girdles. This meant that none of her sexy dresses fit anymore - nor did any of her pants - but she could still (barely) squeeze into a few of her skirts. Only two or three of her party-girl tops still fit... but because her big belly was no longer restricted, they all seemed to ride-up on her.

This meant that all her tops had become belly-shirts - and her big, fat stomach hung bulbously out from the bottom. It was the WORST look possible for her, because it totally accentuated her belly-fat. It almost looked like she WANTED to show it off!

Whenever we'd walk by Flabby Abby and saw her shirt riding up, we'd give her jelly-belly a friendly squeeze - which REALLY pissed her off!

"Stop it, you little creep!" she'd scream. And then she'd valiantly attempt to suck-in her gut and pull her shirt back down, so it re-covered her belly... but moments later, it would inevitably slide back out again. Still, it was almost admirable how she tried to maintain her appearance. When it came to vanity, Abby was in a class of her own.

Because she hated how she looked without her girdle, Abby refused to leave the house - only going outside to do her mandatory exercises. So of course we BEGGED Mrs. Lovington to let us take her to the park:

"Please?" begged Timmy, using his best-little-boy-in-the-world voice. "Don't you think it would be GOOD for Abby to go on a walk with us, instead of sitting on her fat ass all day?"

Mrs. Lovington agreed.

So we all went on a walk together - Timmy holding one of her hands, me holding the other. This was so that when her shirt rode-up (which it did in a few minutes) she was unable to pull it back down.

"C'mon you guys! PLEASE! Let go of my hands!" she pled as her belly popped out.

"But why, Abby?" we innocently asked.

"Because my - my shirt!"

"What's wrong with your shirt?"

"My stomach! It - it's..."

"It's what?" I innocently asked. It really was something, how her belly shook and wobbled with every step. For a girl as vain as Abby, it must've been torture!

"You know what!" she cried. "Damn you! It - it's sticking out!"

"Why is it sticking out, Cousin Abby?" teased Timmy. The more we walked, the more her shirt rode-up. It was now all the way to the bottom of her tits! The other people on the walkway were staring and snickering!

"Because... because I'm a big fatty!" Flabby Abby cried, her voice starting to break. She was struggling to free her hands from our grip.

Breaking into laughter, we let go of Abby all at once. I guess we released her hands more suddenly then she expected, because she was still pulling against us with all her might. The force of her momentum propelled her forward - and she landed on her hands and knees three-steps ahead!

"You fucking creeps!" she screamed.

But then something interesting happened: The sexy skirt that Abby had somehow managed to squeeze into was stretched so tightly around her belly that, with the impact of falling, it suddenly ripped - tearing in half!

"Oh, no!! My skirt!!"

Beneath her skirt were some VERY sexy undies: Bright pink, with cute lace fringes. But her ass was so big, her undies had slid to the halfway point of her butt. In other words, the top-half of her ass was completely visible!

Timmy grabbed what remained of the skirt as we both pointed and laughed like crazy! Red-faced, Abby staggered to her feet, quickly yanking the back of her panties so it re-covered her large tush. She was terrified that someone might see her. But I guess she pulled to hard - because the waistband snapped! She didn't realize it at first, but when she went to suck-in her stomach and pull down her shirt, her panties fell to her ankles!

"Nice bush, Abby!" I giggled.

"Oh, God - Nooooooooooo!" she cried, looking down at her completely exposed hairy pussy. She scanned her surroundings: A crowd of people were circling around her, pointing and chortling!

"Holy Christ, look at the jungle on that fat girl!" someone laughed.

Panicking, she bent over to pull her panties back up. Timmy took the opportunity to push her the rest of the way over - and Flabby Abby toppled over, landing with her hands on the ground, her bare ass poking up in the air!

"AAAAAHHH!!"

I reached over to pull her butt-cheeks apart, to give the crowd a show. Abby was still trying to force her way up, but she wasn't strong enough to reposition her body. Regardless, I was able to separate her flabby buns pretty easily, giving the audience an intimate look at her inner-anatomy.

"Damn, that's the hairiest asshole I've ever seen!" laughed a middle-aged man.

"No kidding," giggled his wife, "between those chubby white buns, she probably has dingleberries the size of breathmints!"

Abby was wiggling furiously on the ground, trying to free herself, but it was having the inadvertent effect of making her fat ass ripple and shake. I was still holding her firmly, pulling her cheeks as wide open as I could! I could feel her try to clench them back closed, but my grip was tight!

"Stop looking! STOP LOOKING!!" Abby wailed. "LET ME GOOOOOO!!"

Then, without warning, her shirt slid again to the bottom of her tits. And because she was fighting so hard to be freed, her belly was literally waving back at the crowd!

"Well, if you thought her ass was big, check THAT out!" giggled the wife.

"Oh, I've heard of her," said her husband. "That's the rich girl who stripped naked at the party and starting mooing like a cow! Remember?"

"Ooh, I'd like to see that," eagerly said his wife.

The audience's laughter - and being forced to relive her earlier humiliation - made Abby capitulate: "You fucking losers! If - if I moo for you, will you leave me alone?!"

Everyone agreed, so I let her up. With a look of rage on her face, she pulled her shirt back down, stretching it until it covered the top-third of her thick black bush. The rest of her vay-jay (well, what you could see through that mop of hair) was clearly visible... as was her entire ass from the back. She kept her thunder-thighs tightly pressed to protect what was left of her modesty.

"Moo! Moo!" Flabby Abby blurted, through gritted teeth - with a look that said she wanted to KILL everyone. "There, I did it. You people had your fun! Now GO THE FUCK AWAY!!"

"I dunno," said the husband skeptically. "It just isn't the same if you're wearing your top. After all, it's not really a cow if we can't see the udders."

With the audience murmuring in agreement, Abby angrily stomped her hoof - and her shirt popped right back up to the bottom of her tits!

Taking this as a sign, Timmy and me peeled her top off her body, leaving her totally naked, sans her Victoria's Secret bra. But seeing no other way to escape, Abby howled in fury and unhooked her bra.

Those big, meaty tits hung proudly out in the sunshine! Everyone applauded in approval.

"Sweet Jesus, you could kill a man with those things! Her name shouldn't be Abby - it ought to be Elsie!"

With the audience forming a circle around her, "Elsie" gripped her oversized belly with both hands, shaking it up and down and wailing with all her might: "MOOO!! MOOOO!! MOOOOOOOO!!"

While she was MOOOING, a hipster-woman reached behind her - and smacked her on the ass!

"OW!! You bitch!" squealed Abby, grabbing her buns and jumping in agony. Her big floppy tits, large butt and round tummy jumped with her. "Why - why did you do that?!"

"Just thought a cow should be branded!" giggled the hipster.

Timmy and me held her hands and made "Elsie" walk naked the rest of the way home. We took the scenic route, right past the nearby college! Where the football team was practicing and the frat boys were hanging out! (Just to keep things interesting, we maintained a choppy bounce to our step - which made those giant jugs of hers swing to and fro.) She kept her head down the entire way... like she still couldn't believe the humiliation she was being forced to endure.

But this in NO WAY made up for the YEARS of torment Abby had inflicted upon us. And thus we hatched a really, REALLY good plan to settle the score once and for all: