Hoisted by Her Own Arrogance

This place is an insane asylum!!” she shot back. “You people don’t have any class, any quality, any refinement.” she blustered

“And you won’t have any clothes on in a second, your highness.” retorted someone.

The onlookers watched with anticipation as one of the diamond shaped lift extenders snagged the back hem and torn flap of her gray pencil skirt and began to hoist it upwards.

“What?” “What are you talk...HEY...EEEPP...about?” “Oh no. No, No, NOOOO!”

Michelle began to feel the hem of her skirt tighten around her calves as began to slowly ride up to her knees. She grabbed the front hem with one hand and tried to keep it in place and held the jacket closed with the other. Taking little stutter steps forward as if to escape.

“NO, NO, STOP.” As if she were able to order the inevitable to change course.

Eva“E-V-A!!” Her voice now sounding ****. “STOP this thing, NOW!”

“I’m trying, I’m trying! Keep your shirt on will ya?” came the reply.

“How stupid can you get, Eva?? My clothes are being ripped off

PIECE-BY-PIECE!!!” she screamed up to her daughter.

Michelle’s skirt climbed steadily upward.

RIIIPP!

The split skirt tore further apart. Feeling the hem now past the back of her knees, and creeping up past mid thigh, Michelle watched as her sheer black stockings with the heavy border and lace floral pattern trim, were uncovered along with the ribbon adorned garters.

“Oh Lord, please, not my skirt. Don't let my skirt get pulled off too!!”

“Yeah, baby, take it all off!!” came a catcall. “Give the people what they want!!”

“Eva! For God’s sake, do SOMETHING!!! Or I’m going up there!!”

The crowd dissolved into laughter at Michelle’s predicament.

“Sweetheart, the only thing going up there is your skirt!!”

Michelle reached around to the backside of her skirt with one hand in a futile attempt to hold it down. The bottom of her skirt was now past her garter straps.

“Oh god, my clothes! Oh-ohhhh!”

Panicking now, she used both hands to push down the rear of her hem line to unsnag it. A futile gesture. Those inviting bazooms of hers tumbled out of the unguarded jacket. She was being disrobed, stripped and humiliated in front of all of these...these...unsophisticated louts.

The hem and bunched fabric slowed for a second around the center of her ample caboose. Tightened, tightened...and then SSSHHHRRRIIIPPPPP!!!

AAAAHHHH!!!!

Then, past her behind and up to her midriff.

“Oh my God!! She’s wearing a girdle!! The woman is actually wearing a panty girdle!!

There it was alright. Hideous, appalling and glaringly white, extending a few inches below her butt cheeks and twat and just above her naval. A failing effort to hold in her spreading belly paunch, thickening thighs and “mature” backseat. All for vanity had this self centered woman somehow managed to shoehorn herself into this agonizing undergarment. Now she was laughable. “Vanity goeth before the fall.”

“God. And all this time all she did was to belittle me over MY ass and flat chest!” thought Megan. “I’m gonna fix her wagon and that spoiled brat, Eva too.” she pledged.

“Will ya look at that?!” “Hey, I told ya before didn't I?” “She wears a panty girdle!” crowed one of the women.

Fits of side splitting laughter and howling all around now. Megan put her hands over her mouth to stifle her own laughter. But this was TOO good now to hold back.

“NO, NO!! this can’t be happening.” whimpered Michelle.

But it was. And it would get worse. She was in trouble now. Her brassiere was gone and the bunched up skirt and jacket were now pulling up and over her pendulous orbs forcing her arms up, encasing her head and trapping her arms overhead. She was being stripped and shucked like an ear of corn. Before being cocooned by her own clothes, her last word out was “E-VAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!!

Michelle tried to stand on one foot and then the other, lifting the opposite knee up each time over her crotch to fend off the ogling gaze of the crowd. Then she felt herself being lifted off the floor.

“STOP! HELP!”

She started kicking her feet in mid air as if running in place, tits jerking from side to side, waves of rippling flesh rolling across her corpulent figure with every move. The motion was causing her to twist around slightly, presenting her big booty for applause and then back again, which only invited peels of riotous laughing.

It is said that even a blind squirrel will find a nut. Eva found hers. The lift abruptly lurched to a stop. Too late to save her mother. The combination of Michelle’s struggling and the sudden stop tore off the rest of her skirt and jacket as she plopped down a few inches back to the floor.

Some of the gents in the crowd stood and saluted the newly raised banner, “coming” to attention in their pants. And few of the ladies laid an arm across their chests, hand on breast, absentmindedly massaging in a circular motion.