Give the people what they want

(My idea of how the story looks so far; obviously, I left much out)

Glenda smiled, "Well, you can take it all off, or I can do it with this whip." The crowd cheered. Geraldine didn't respond until the whip cracked between her thighs, not hitting her, but showing the skill the huntress had and the pain she could cause if ignored. The advisor started to reach for the stockings.

"No," said the princess, "they make you look ridiculous. Leave them and remove something else." "Her thighs look like sausages," one of the peasants remarked, "milky white sausages." "I like sausages!" an unusually dim-witted voice responded from in the crowd. Nearby, her guards stood back at Glenda's orders, and her maid, an attractive young adult with auburn hair, watched nervously. Unlike most lady's maids, who were allowed to dress for court, Alice was wearing a plain black dress with a white apron. The countess didn't want her youth to compete with her own good looks, and thought it helped the girl remember her place. She bit her lip nervously as she watched the countess fumble with her underclothes.

When she was too slow deciding what to remove, Holly came forth from the crowd, looking radiant in the noble gown, and bowed to the crowd, giving a little spin to show off the dress before placing herself behind Geraldine. Producing a pair of sheep shears she had borrowed from one of the shepherds, she slid them into the side of the girdle, and snapped them shut. While this was far from comfortable for Geraldine, the only thing cut was the seam of the already-strained girdle, which, a moment later, made a groaning sound, and then ripping sounds as the royal advisor's copious flesh could no longer be contained.

The crowd cheered at this development. The town's old herb-woman put her hand to her mouth in surprise, "It's just like a butterfly coming out of a cocoon, only in this case, she came in a butterfly and is coming out a slug!" "Caterpillar" corrected the little girl apprenticed to her. "I think she looks more like a slug," the old woman said, and the crowd laughed.

By the time the girdle, completely burst, floated to the ground, Gerladine's thick, soft belly had been exposed. It looked the very opposite of the wasp-waist she presented in her fashionable court dress; the soft, flabby gut was divided into rolls by a big fold right around her navel, and large "love handles" could be seen right above her hips. The stretch marks that had been hidden by the girdle now formed little lines down into the panties.

Just like her girdle, Geraldine was broken. She could barely manage words. "Don't look at me!" was the best she could do, as her hands failed to cover her generous torso. The tears were flowing free as the crowd mocked her.

But the smiling Glenda wasn't done. No one in the crowd was sympathetic to the noblewoman who had been treating them as sub-human only moments ago. And Holly had the most reason to want to see more.

"Is that enough?" Glenda called out. "Does she deserve our pity? Our mercy? Or should we find out what else she's hiding?"