Part 5: The Set-Up
Mrs. Lovington had been floating on cloud nine, ever since she utterly destroyed her archenemy, Rachel Trovolli. The Empress truly began to believe that she was invincible: A real-life, modern day Queen. Nay, not just a queen:
A Goddess.
And soon Mrs. Lacy Lovington - the most BEAUTIFUL woman in Middletown - would once again receive her crown!
At home, she couldn't stop talking about her demolishment of Rachel: "That little pipsqueak won't dare to show her face ever again! Ha, ha, ha, ha!! Remember the expression on her face when we measured her tiny little tits! 28 inches! Ha!"
She even proudly showed us the laxative she used to spike Rachel's drink, and was using photographs of Rachel Trovolli as her personal screensaver! Sometimes I'd catch her sipping Merlot late at night, watching those images on a perpetual loop... and cackling with glee! There on the computer was the toughest, sexiest girl in town, naked and helpless...
Her only disappointment was the media blackout: Because Rachel was, ostensibly, the children's Queen, there was uncertainty of her age. Mrs. Lovington insisted to everyone that she really was 23, but the media outlets were wary of airing any images of a minor in a state of undress. Almost none of the footage was ever reshown. And yes, there were plenty of eye witnesses, but almost no one from Rachel's side of the tracks believed that the puny, titless, pigtailed girl going poo-poo in the streets could POSSIBLY be Rachel.
It just didn't seem plausible!
Further complicating matters was the fact that the brunette beauty had completely dropped out of sight. I looked for her in her favorite pool halls and whiskey joints, and every time I heard the purr of a motorcycle engine, I turned my head, hoping it might be her.
But... no Rachel.
Back at the Lovington's abode, things had taken a turn for the worse for Timmy and me: Because the Empress was so pleased with Abby and Yvette's assistance in the downfall of her archrival, she had given them back all their old privileges and suspended their punishments. This meant the bitch-cousins were free to be their bitchy, horrible, egotistical selves. Once again, Abby was using her girdle and wearing sexy clothes - and once again, Yvette was "mature" and sophisticated, dressing like a 30-something vixen with well-rounded tits (well, falsies). All their punishments had been suspended, and the diapers, baby jammies, workout tapes and crib were returned to the attic.
The bitch-cousins pretended like the previous indignities had never even happened: Abby was as arrogant as ever, acting as if she was the hottest thing on two feet. She dressed like a supermodel, flaunting her assets. Yvette was back to sneering at all the "losers" in Middletown, turning up her nose at everyone else. Once again, everything our town had to offer was "immature" and utterly beneath her.
But to us - Timmy and me - well...
Those awful two girls took their revenge, stripping Timmy and me when I spent the night! We might've been 18-year-old high school seniors, but we weren't very strong; no matter how much we struggled, they simply overpowered us. Without breaking a sweat, they held us down, peeled off our clothes, and took turns spanking our asses until it hurt so bad, we broke down in tears!
"Aw, look at the baby boys! Are widdle Timmy and his friend CRYING?" giggled Abby.
"Well, you KNOW how immature they are!" answered Yvette. "I don't care if they're high school seniors or not; we both know they're still just babies. And what do babies wear...?"
I think you know what's coming next: Those BITCHES held us down on our backs, pulled back our legs... and they fucking diapered us!
"Aren't they cute!" laughed Abby. "But they're missing something..."
Abby pulled two baby bonnets from her purse. Within seconds, we were wearing that, too.
We hoped that would be the end of it, but Yvette grabbed her video camera. Timmy and me looked at each other, confused. But once we received their orders, we were degraded beyond earthly comprehension:
Those motherfucking BITCHES filmed us in the backyard, wearing nothing but a diaper and bonnet, singing, "I'm a widdle teapot, short and stout! Here is my handle, here is my..."
Christ!
Then they let us go... warning us that if we EVER spoke a word of what had happened to the two of them earlier - how Flabby Abby was a fat, naked piggy and Yvette a flatchested girl who needed help wiping - they'd make copies of the video and send it to every girl in town!
That was the last time I spent the night over. I still saw Timmy in school and would visit him at his house during the day, but I REFUSED to stay overnight for as long as the bitch-cousins were there... and from the stories Timmy told me in the schoolyard, I had definitely made the wise decision!
During the afternoon it was usually safe, because Mrs. Lovington was nearby. And it was during the afternoon of February 12 when Mrs. Lovington called everyone over: She just received something VERY exciting in the mail!
"Listen to this," she breathlessly read, holding a monogramed letter in her hand. "The P.H. Society of Middletown has hereby awarded ME their Woman of the Year trophy!"
"Awesome! Um... what's the P.H. Society, Aunt Lacy?" asked Yvette.
The blonde, busty MILF shrugged her shoulders, maintaining her enormous smile.
"I don't know - I think it's a beauty organization - 'P.H.' usually refers to P.H. balance. Right? Like, in beauty products? Anyway, that's not what's important. The letter says that 'In recognition of Mrs. Lacy Lovington being crowned Queen of the City for an unprecedented eight straight years, on February 14, she will have her Valentine's Day Festival makeup and hair prepared by the P.H. Society's award-winning stylists at our brand-new spa. It's a special honor for the most beautiful woman in town.' Did you hear that? 'The most beautiful woman in town!' Ooh, and it gets better: I can bring two friends with me to be styled as well - free of charge!"
"Hooray!" clapped Abby. "Can me and Yvette come?"
Mrs. Lovington kept reading the line "the most beautiful woman in town" over and over again in her head. Minutes flew by. Then, startled, she looked up:
"What? Oh, yes. You two can definitely come! It'll be our... victory celebration!"
The bitch-cousins hugged each other in excitement... and Mrs. Lovington continued rereading the line, "the most beautiful woman in town" for the next hour. I could see her lips move when I walked by.
So here it was, February 14, mere hours before the Festival. Abby and Yvette were standing in the living room... and even though I HATED THEM, I had to admit that they looked... gorgeous.
Absolutely gorgeous.
Abby was wearing a red-hot evening gown and red-hot heels. Along with her red hair and shapely figure, she was breathtaking. (I had to remind myself that there was a girdle beneath all this beauty - and what Abby looked like naked, fat and peeing in the bath tub - because the way she looked now, her beauty nearly sent my heart into palpitations!)
Yvette walked in wearing a midnight blue formal gown, black gloves and a fancy black hat. She could've easily passed for her early 30s. Just like Abby, she was so beautiful and dreamy, it was too damn easy to forget what a BITCH she was... so I made myself remember what she looked like flatchested and buck-ass naked, farting on a training-potty!
Maybe it was my adolescent hormones playing mind-games with me... but I could feel myself falling in love with them both. I mean, yeah, I knew what evil cunts they were... but they looked SO GOOD...
"How come you girls are already dressed up and wearing makeup?" Timmy asked. "Aren't you going to get a beauty treatment from the P.H. Society before the Festival?"
Yvette rolled her eyes and put her hands on her hips.
"You're so immature!" she chided. "Little Timmy, when you go to an elite specialist like the P.H. Society, you want them to see how sexy you already look. That way, they can help you improve it. Duh!"
"...Although to be honest," added Abby, staring into her hand-mirror, "when you look THIS good, it's almost impossible to improve!"
Then came the Queen:
Wearing a white flowing gown with blue accents, she looked like a Disney princess! (I think Elsa from Frozen stole Mrs. Lovington's dress-design, to give you an idea of what it looked like.) Her thick blonde locks were piled high on her head, and a crystal tiara was already in her hair. With her zillion-dollar jewelry and exquisite makeup, Timmy's Mom had NEVER looked better.
Even Abby and Yvette applauded. I dropped to my knee and bowed... 'cause it just seemed like the proper thing to do!
Mrs. Lovington smiled her Victorian smile and nodded in approval at the bitch-cousins:
"Abby and Yvette, you both look beautiful. Visions of beauty!"
Her nieces beamed. Then the Empress checked her watch:
"Two hours before the Valentine's Day Festival begins. Plenty of time. Let's head over to the address the P.H. Society gave us for our expert styling. Teehee! I can hardly wait, but frankly, girls, when you look as good as WE do, there's not much to improve upon."
"That's what I said!" agreed Abby.
We all got into Mrs. Lovington's super-big, brand-new Cadillac SUV (Timmy and me had to cram into the very back so the "beautiful girls" could have more room) and drove through downtown Middletown. The P.H. Society's address was adjacent to the Festival grounds. ("How nice. This means we can walk over when we're done," noted the Queen.) We parked right outside.
"Funny, I've never noticed this building before, Mum," said Timmy.
"A construction crew was working around the clock... they put the building up in just two weeks," Mrs. Lovington replied. "They must be VERY rich to afford so many builders working overtime. I'm surprised they haven't asked ME to join the P.H. Society. After all... well, just LOOK at me!"
We walked inside the building, and you could tell it was brand-new: It had that "new building" smell.
We looked around: There was a fancy fountain in the middle. Five styling chairs by the walls. Beautiful, custom-built bookshelves and very nice furniture. To the side was what appeared to be a locker room. Near the front door was a clothes rack, but only one item of clothing was on it:
The pink, little-girl dress the Queen had forced Rachel to wear.
