The Greatest Humiliation Story Ch. 06: Final

But give the Empress credit: She looked stunning. Never better! Blonde, dazzling and oozing sex appeal, she looked as if she was carved from a block of granite.

Perfection incarnate.

Mrs. Lovington knelt down with a ladylike curtsy, and the war hero placed the crown on her head. She kissed him softly on the cheek, then went to the microphone:

"Ladies and gentlemen! My good people of Middletown! I'm proud to once again serve as your Queen!"

The MILF looked up at the giant TVs to admire herself. No pun intended, this was her "crowning" moment. She was the Queen of the City once again! Her archenemy had been annihilated! The entire community was groveling at her feet!

"To me, being a Queen is more than just being rich and beautiful. Yes, I know how lucky I am to have been blessed with my all-natural blonde hair, a trim figure and big bank account. That's why I'm delighted to say to the poor people of Middletown: A portion of the proceeds from this Festival will be earmarked to you! So you can buy a can of beans, deodorant... or whatever."

There was a short-lived round-of-applause. Then someone shouted from the poor section:

"Boo! We want Rachel Trovolli!"

A big, booming cheer followed: "RACHEL! RACHEL! RACHEL!"

Mrs. Lovington looked down and smirked, "Oh, I don't think we'll be seeing Rachel anymore. I know some of you seem to think that - that... girl is attractive - "

Another loud cheer!

"But I happen to have some photographs that prove otherwise!"

The Queen took a step backwards to retrieve the photographs from her pocketbook...

...and her left heel snapped, ripping in half!

"What the?"

Now off-balance, the Queen stumbled back another step...

...and her right heel snapped! She was now barefoot on the stage, with the tattered remains of her two high-heeled shoes littered in front of her.

"Son of a bitch!" the Queen cursed. "Those shoes cost $700!"

Putting a big, fake smile back on her face, Mrs. Lovington returned to the microphone: "I apologize, ladies and gentlemen. It appears we're having a, uh, minor wardrobe malfunction. But I assure you that... that... that..."

The Queen's midsection was rumbling and shaking. The audience started to murmur and stare, wondering what was happening. And then there was another SNAP -

- and the Queen's girdle popped open, tumbled down from the inside of her gown, and landed atop the stage!

A wave of pandemonium swept through the crowd. Everyone was pointing and whispering, when one loud voice carried above all others:

"Hey, that's a girdle!"

The whispers grew louder! Panicking, Mrs. Lovington grabbed the microphone stand, her eyes as big as dinner plates.

"NO! I - I don't wear a girdle! That - "

But before she could continue, her gown pulled and yanked at a funny angle - like it was being attacked by invisible poltergeists. The Queen looked down in horror:

Her gown was starting to SPLIT OPEN over her belly!

It was a tiny tear at first, no more than an inch or two. Then three inches. Then four. Then five, six, seven!

Before she could blink, her entire tummy was sticking straight out!

Mrs. Lovington's stomach wasn't quite as massive as Abby's, but it was still plenty large - with nasty stretchmarks and a deep, bulging bellybutton. Her bulbous gut was now hanging all the way out of her gown, jiggling like a giant mold of Jell-O!

"NOOOOO!!" screamed the Queen.

To the side of the stage, the MILF heard one of the women whisper: "Did she just claim that she had a trim figure? Ha! She's a hungry, hungry hippo!"

"I - I don't know what's happening!" the Queen cried into the microphone. "But this... this is just an optical illusion! I swear!"

Mrs. Lovington silently prayed that the run in her dress would stop spreading. She prayed to God. Then Jesus. Then Allah. Then Zeus. Then Buddha.

But her prayers went unanswered:

Whereas Abby's dress split downwards, Mrs. Lovington's split upwards, continuing to race up her ribcage. As her eyes widened, the split continued its northern ascent, racing in between her two giant tits and not stopping until it reached the very top of her gown - splitting it in half!

"NOOOOO!"

The fabric slid off her shoulders and onto her sides, like an unpeeled banana! Lacy Lovington's big belly, fleshy torso and thick arms were unveiled... and the Queen was standing in front of the entire city with nothing but a sturdy white bra covering the top-half of her body!

"Wow, talk about letting yourself go!" shouted a heckler.

"Join a gym!" shouted another.

Before Mrs. Lovington could respond, her bra suddenly trembled and shook, like San Andreas Fault. And then...

...the top, bottom and sides ripped simultaneously, exploding through the air like confetti!

And just like that, the Queen was topless.

All at once, her big, fleshy tits sagged from their formerly-perky heights, falling like heavy bags of sand, sagging to the sides of her body, until her nipples were level with her belly-button. Her gigantic, ostrich egg-shaped areolas stared the audience in the eyes - with the tips of her nips jutting several inches out, like pink, unwrapped Crayola crayons.

Mrs. Lovington just stood there, frozen in shock!

"Droopy boobies! She's got droopy boobies!"

The laughter that followed was deafening, and it seemed to snap the MILF back to reality.

"DEAR GOD!!" she screamed, attempting to cover her oversized tits in her arms. She turned her back to the audience to shield her modesty...

...when that perfectly-round ass of hers began vibrating.

A hush fell over the audience. There were three - maybe four seconds of total silence.

And then, her rear-falsie popped out of the back her panties, twirled high up into the air, spun in a circle, and landed on the floor of the stage.

"It's a fake ass! That's a fake ass!" roared a heckler.

In all their careers, George Carlin, Richard Pryor and Chris Rock had NEVER heard such uproarious laughter.

"THIS CAN'T BE HAPPENING!!" wailed Mrs. Lovington. "TURN OFF THE TV!! HELP!!"

But it got worse: Without the solid, fake ass to keep her gown wedged around her waist, the entire outfit dropped to her feet. She was now near-naked on stage, clad in nothing but her baggy panties! And these weren't sexy, pretty panties; these were loose-fitting granny-panties - chosen by the Queen because they were baggy and loose enough to discreetly hold her plastic ass-mold!

Very, VERY loose-fitting: Now empty, they slid down her thighs to her ankles.

The Queen was naked.

Mere moments before, her ass looked round and perfect. Now, it was a brutish, rectanglish blob of cellulite and pimples. Her thick butt cheeks shook and gyrated with every heartbeat. The back of her thighs were portly and flabby, with webs of blue varicose veins shooting down to her calves.

"This is our Queen?! My mother-in-law has a better ass!" heckled some poor slob from the front row.

"Get that fat-ass some Oxy-Clean!"

"MY BUTT!" squealed Mrs. Lovington, instinctively throwing her hands over her butt-cheeks, turning her ass away from the peering eyes of the entire city. But in doing so, she had turned to face the audience directly.

Her face went bright red when she realized what she had done:

The could now see... EVERYTHING!

The front of Mrs. Lovington's thighs were just as flabby as the back, but all eyes were now on the region of her body just below her big, bloated white belly:

Her pussy.

Groomed no better than Abby's untamed pubic-jungle, the blonde-haired Queen of Middletown had a bush of shockingly dark pubes - mixed with streaks of gray.

"NO!! DON'T LOOK!! MY - MY PUSSY!!"

She looked up at the big TV screens: They had zeroed-in on a close-up.

Her holiest of holies was bared before the whole City of Middletown... and the carpet DID NOT match the light blonde curtains.

But then the curtains began to change:

The shampoo's chemicals began to take effect. Before the crowd's amazed eyes, her yellow-blonde hair darkened.

And grayed.

Until the carpet and curtains were dead ringers.

"So much for her being a natural blonde!" snickered one of the VIP ladies who had earlier complimented her beauty.

"Take a look at the REAL Lacy Lovington!" jeered the other. "She's nothing but a fat, brown-haired housewife who's going gray!"

Mrs. Lovington was as naked as a jaybird, shaking her brown-and-gray head "no!" She looked around desperately for help - to her left and then to her right. Instead, all she saw were fingers pointing at her - and laughter! They were... they were all LAUGHING at her!

Even the old war hero was pointing and laughing.

Her eyes caught a glimpse of the TV screens: Her hair! Her stomach! Her thighs! Her body!

The Queen lost her footing and stumbled backwards, falling butt-first into her throne. Her beefy legs flew into the air, her jaw dropped open and her arms hung lifelessly by her side.

And that's when the Sybian that had been placed inside the throne's cushioning clicked on:

"Oh! OHH!! OOOOHHHH!!" squealed the Queen, her thighs further widening.

The boisterous crowd quieted, transfixed by the curious sight.

The Sybian began moving faster, stimulating her clitty through the throne's cushioning. Mrs. Lovington was too dazed to move, to shocked to fight - and getting WAY too sexually stirred to resist!

"OOOOOOOHHHHHHHH!!" she shrieked, her hips grinding like the gears of a Mack Truck. With her two hands, she aggressively pulled the tips of her enormous nipples and arched her back. Her big belly jiggled and rippled with every delicious stimulation...

"I - I - I CAN'T SSSTOP!!" she screamed, grinding and rubbing onto the Sybian.

It was as if her pussy had a mind of its own!

Then, suddenly, her legs shot to the heavens. Mrs. Lovington opened her thighs like she was doing the splits and separated her pussy lips with both hands - flashing the audience not just the inside of her vay-jay, but also the opening of her anus. She bucked her like a wild woman, rubbing her badly-swollen clitty like she was trying to start a campfire!

And then she squirted. All over the front row.

With a loud cheer from the crowd, the Queen collapsed from the throne, falling onto her hands and knees, crawling naked - her big tits and large belly swaying to and fro. She could hear the other woman and trophy wives gossiping as she crawled by their feet:

"Disgraceful!"

"She's disgusting!"

"If I were her, I'd never show my face again!"

She then fell off the stage, landing in the arms of the poorest, dirtiest citizens of Middletown.

The Queen was quickly hoisted back into the air, and soon found herself crowd-surfing through the audience, getting pawed and touched by men, women and dirty-looking low-lives. Strange hands were gripping her tits, fingering her anus and manhandling her brownish-gray pussy. The inside of her thighs were being felt-up and groped. Cameras were flashing everywhere!

"YOU CAN'T DO THIS!" she moaned. "I'M THE QUEEN!! THE QUEEN!! THE QUEEN!!"

Then she was lowered. In front of her was a man with a black, bushy beard.

"You might be the Queen, but I'm Rachel Trovolli's Uncle... and I've got a 'bone' to pick with you, ya brown-haired skank..."

He unzipped his fly, whipping out the largest dick Mrs. Lovington had ever seen!

The audience lifted the Queen halfway into the air and opened her legs as wide as they'd go, carrying her to the Uncle. Her giant tits jumped and bounced. Rachel's Uncle pushed the head of his penis so that it rubbed her vaginal opening.

"NOOOO!! I'M RICH!! I'M ROYALTY!! YOU'RE A PEASANT!! I FORBID IT!! NOOOO - "

But when she looked down, the Uncle had already rammed his hulking manhood ALL THE WAY inside her royal pussy.

"NOOOOOOO!!"

An acne-riddled, 18-year-old high school senior who used to clean her pool was sucking on her left tit. The filthy old man from Pete's Pool House was sucking on her right. Someone else had jammed his middle finger up her asshole... and Rachel's Uncle was FUCKING her raw!

"OOOOOHHHHH!! OH GOD!! OH GOD!! OH GOOOOOODDDDDD!!"

More hands were on her, groping her, touching her, feeling her, and fingering her. She recognized the middle-aged coffeehouse waiter whom she used to bully; he was finger-fucking her anus. The garbageman and a greasy-looking chain-smoker from the garage station were nibbling on her nipples, high-fiving each other. And all the while, Rachel's Uncle was blasting her pussy with his enormous cock - chopping at it like he was trying to bring down a Redwood!

"NOOOOOOO!! I - I WON'T GIVE YOU THE SATISFACTION!! YOU - YOU CAN'T MAKE ME CUM!!"

A teenage girl took out a pair of scissors and cut a big chunk of the Queen's hair. ("A souvenir!" she explained.) Soon, others joined in, slicing away at her brown-gray locks. Her formerly-blonde crown of golden blonde hair was quickly reduced to inch-high rubble.

It was too much.

"YOU CAN'T MAKE ME CUM!! YOU CAN'T!! I WON'T LET YOU!! I - I - I - "

"I wanna hear you say it," growled the Uncle. "You ain't no Queen. You're a fat, old cum-slut. And you've lost all your hair. Say it. SAY IT!!"

"OOOOOOOOOHHHH!! OH NO!! OOOHHHH NOOOOOO!! I'M CUUUUUMMMMMMING!! I... I... I... I'M A FAT OLD CUM-SLUT WITH NO HAIR!! I'M A FAT OLD CUM-SLUUUUUUUUT!!"

The Queen orgasmed once again while everyone watched...

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!" she wailed, staring at herself on the big screen TVs.

Meanwhile, up on the stage the City of Middletown's VIPs looked around, unsure of what to do.

"Obviously, we need a new Queen," said one.

"Obviously," agreed a woman, watching the old Queen sucking dick in the poor section while new people maneuvered their cocks in and out of her brownish-gray twat.

"But who?"

Then - to an avalanche of applause, Rachel Trovolli walked atop the stage. She had a slight limp, but was clearly enjoying herself. She flashed her devilish grin and waved at the crowd.

"RACHEL! RACHEL! RACHEL!"

The biker babe bowed her head. The VIPs looked at each other and shrugged.

Then they placed the crown atop her head.

THE END