Housewife's Humiliating Regression

Mrs. Trainor looked down at me and narrowed her eyes behind her bifocals.

"And WHO is this adorable little girl in the stroller? Why... she looks like Charlotte!"

I gulped!

"Charlotte? Is... is that you? Why, it IS! It IS Charlotte!"

My face turned red and tears began pouring down my eyes.

"Charlotte, what in the world are you doing in a stroller?! And what... what happened to your breasts? Your boobs have vanished!"

My lower lip trembled - and I burst into loud sobs!

"This is Charlotte's little cousin from out-of-town," Deborah replied.

"Oh. I see the family resemblance! Silly me, to think that this skinny little girl is Charlotte! My heavens!"

Then she looked down on me again: "Hello, little girl."

I said nothing; it was all I could do to catch my breath.

"Don't be rude!" Deborah admonished me. "Say hello to the nice neighbor! DO IT! Say hello."

"H - Hello!" I whimpered.

"Isn't she too old to be in a stroller?" asked Mrs. Trainor.

"Well, she's a bit tall for her age," Deborah lied. "And very lazy! Trust me, this is the only way to get her some sunlight. See how pale she is? Her freckles really stand out, don't they?"

"They sure do!" cackled Mrs. Trainor. "Freckles are so precious on a little girl. Every dot is a kiss from an Angel, my dear."

"Th... thank you," I gasped.

"But I must say, I love her Doc McStuffin shirt," the crazy old bat continued. "I've been trying to find one for my grandson, Timmy. No luck, though. Such a shame, because Doc McStuffin is his hero. He wants to be a doctor when hen he grows up."

A sick smile appeared on Deborah's face.

"Stand up, little girl," she said, unstrapping me and pulling me to my feet. "Put your arms in the air!"

Confused, I did what she said, my knees wobbling and my fingers trembling. I lifted my arms as high as I could.

Before I could react, Deborah had pulled my t-shit off my body! All at once! Before I could blink, I was topless on the sidewalk, in front of my nosy neighbor - and my tiny little tits in full view!

"AAAHHH" I shrieked. "My boobies!"

Then my loose-fitting shorts dropped to my ankles. My freshly-shaved pussy was totally exposed! I was naked again - with no makeup and those ridiculous pigtails! I quickly wrapped my arms around my chest and vagina and crouched low to the ground, to hide my nudity.

"Stop being foolish," Deborah scolded. "You don't have any boobies! Be a good girl and let me show your cool new shirt to your nice neighbor! And put your arms down! You have nothing to hide anyway!"

Pouting and watery-eyed, I stood up straight and put down my arms flat against my sides. I... I couldn't believe it!

"There, there," Mrs. Trainor told me, patting me on the head. "One day, you'll have big-girl boobies. And big-girl hair, too," she added, pointing at my crotch. "Just be patient, dear. You'll be a woman soon enough."

"I sure hope so!" I sobbed.

Cars were zipping by. Across the street, Mr. Parker - who works at the local bank (and is a member of the country club) - was checking his mail. And here I was, standing naked on the sidewalk, with my arms by my side!

"Aw, isn't she precious!" cooed Mrs. Trainor. "With her little freckles and adorable figure! They want to grow up so fast, don't they?"

"You have no idea!" laughed Deborah. "I've even caught her trying to stuff her bra!"

The McNally boys were literally rolling on the floor in hysterics.

"Now, you shouldn't do that, dear," Mrs. Trainor told me. "I think you're as cute as a bunny-rabbit, just the way you are."

"Can - can I cover myself, please?" I whimpered to Deborah. "There are people out! They - they can see me naked!"

"She's so shy!" marveled Mrs. Trainor. "Just give me a moment, dear... I want to see where this shirt is from..."

But with her old-lady pupils, it was taking her FOREVER to read the tag! She kept moving the label farther, then closer - farther, then closer. She finally gave up.

"Dear, could you read this for me?" Mrs. Trainor asked Deborah. "Oh, and where are her shorts from, too? They're simply adorable! I have a granddaughter from Toledo who'd look as cute as a button in them!"

"But of course, ma'am," Deborah answered. She lifted me up by the armpits once again - high into the air - so my shorts were left on the sidewalk. And I mean HIGH in the air: To the full extension of her arms.

"Hank, see where those shorts are from," Deborah ordered.

My mouth was wide open! This neighborhood tramp - this fucking BITCH - was holding me up as high up as she could! Mr. Parker was staring directly at my exposed pussy and tits! So were the cars driving by; I could see their faces turning towards me! That BITCH was literally dangling me midair, waving my naked flesh at anyone and everyone!

"Uh... let me see," struggled the half-literate McNally boy. "It, uh, says here they're from the Dis... the Dis... oh, the Disney Store."

Deborah was continuing to hold me high in the air, and I could faintly hear her sniggering under her breath. I just KNEW she was deliberately exposing me to as many people as possible. I felt so small... so helpless...

"Thank you, young man," said the old woman. "And where is her shirt from?"

"Um... oh yeah, it's from the Disney Store, too."

"The Disney Store!" exclaimed Mrs. Trainor. "I should've known! Thanks so much for helping me."

"It was our pleasure, ma'am." Deborah looked up at me. "Isn't that right, little girl?"

My heart was racing a mile-a-minute! I can't even describe how humiliating it felt to be suspended in the sky - without a shred of clothes on my body - on the same street where I live with my husband! I felt so ashamed...

"I said," repeated Deborah, "ISN'T THAT RIGHT, LITTLE GIRL?!"

"Yes!" I squeaked. "Thank you for letting us help you, Mrs. Trainor!"

Finally, Deborah lowered me back to the ground. I was still naked, but at least I wasn't being elevated where everyone could see me. I hid behind my stroller and crouched low.

"You're not only adorable, but you're a polite little lady, too," marveled Mrs. Trainor. "Here are your clothes, babycakes. Thanks again for being such a big help."

"Great..." I mumbled, reaching for the clothes. But Deborah yanked them away from me.

"Did you just say 'great' to a nice older lady? That's NOT how you were raised! We've talked about this, 'babycakes': It's important to be polite and respect your elders. If you want your clothes back, give Mrs. Trainor a courtesy!"

Stunned and speechless, I half-bobbed my head. Sweat was pouring from my face! Then I desperately reached for my clothes - but again they were pulled away.

"Not from behind the stroller, babycakes! Over here - where everyone can see you!"

Fire engine-red, I staggered in front of Mrs. Trainor - and directly across the street from Mr. Parker, who was loitering by his mailbox. My titties wobbled and I could feel my pussy quivering with each step. Finally, I curtseyed again, low and subserviently.

"Th - thank you!" I squealed.

"That's quite all right, dear. When my grandson comes to town, I'll tell him to look for you. Oh, you will have so much fun, playing with him in the sandbox. Ooh, maybe he'll be your boyfriend!"

Deborah nudged me in my ribs.

"Y... yay! I've always wanted a boyfriend!" I cried.

I guess that was what Deborah was looking for, because she FINALLY handed me back my clothes - THANK GOD. I hastily put them back on; Mr. Parker was watching me the whole time. I never thought I would've seen the day when I would be RELIEVED to put that ridiculous t-shirt and shorts back on my body... but I was!

"Back in the stroller, [snicker] babycakes!" Deborah told me.

So I sat back in the stoller and crossed my arms, hanging my head in despair.

They were soon pushing me along the sidewalk, far away from my neighbors. Hank and Roger could scarcely contain their guffaws:

"Haw, haw! Did you see our babysitter! Haw, haw! She looks more like the baby!"

"I know! Haw, haw!"

Deborah leaned down and whispered into my ear: "So how does it feel, Mrs. Rich-And-Powerful - with the perfect husband and perfect life? How does it feel to know that your REAL body is so pathetic, your own friends confuse you with a little kid?"

There... there was nothing I could say. It was true! I had been stripped naked in public... and my own neighbor thought I was an undeveloped little kid! And worst of all, my archenemy knew it. I just covered my eyes and cried - which, I'm sure, made me look even more immature in everyone else's eyes.

While I was still sniffling, Deborah and the McNally pushed me into the mall's food court. I had been to this mall a million times before - it had some of the trendiest clothes, most expensive handbags and the sexiest shoes (and the skimpiest lingerie) in the city - but NEVER in a stroller! I looked around, expecting everyone to wonder what an adult like me was doing in a stroller... but nobody said a word.

"Would you like some ice cream, pookie?" Deborah asked me, as we rolled past the dessert stand.

"No, thank you," I softly said.

"Too bad. You need some meat on your bones."

Moments later, she handed me a big chocolate ice cream cone.

"Deborah, I can't eat this," I complained. "I'm lactose intolerant. You eat it!"

"Don't talk back, babycakes!" she demanded, pushing the ice cream cone in my face, where it smeared over my lips and cheek, making a mess.

"Hey! Watch it! I - I need some napkins!"

"No you don't. Here..."

She pulled up the bottom of my shirt - exposing my tummy and breasts - and wiped my face clean.

"OH, NO!! PLEASE...!"

"Quiet, honey. Let Mommy wipe you."

"MY BREASTS!! You - YOU'RE EXPOSING ME!!"

"Hold on... let me get every last drop. You're SO messy!"

She took her time, mopping up my face with my shirt, displaying my tits in the food court. I wanted to scream, but I couldn't - because the last thing I wanted was more people staring!

"Uh, oh - there's a drop of chocolate on her shorts," said one of the McNally boys. (I couldn't see which one because the stupid Doc McStuffin shirt was covering my head.)

"Well don't just stand there," Deborah directed. "Clean it up."

I felt his fat, thick fingers reach inside my waistband... and very slowly, my shorts were pulled down to my knees.

This time, I couldn't control myself: "AAAIIIEEEEE!!"

"Heh, heh... quiet, babycakes!" he snorted. "Just gotta wipe-up this stain before it sets!"

The cool air conditioning was blowing on my exposed body. I could feel the wind blow down on my pussy - and despite my prayers, my nipples were hardening too.

"STOP IT!! YOU'RE DOING THIS ON PURPOSE!" I wailed.

"Be patient... heh, heh," chuckled the McNally boy. "I'm almost done..."

Finally, she released her grip. My shirt was still stuck over my head and arms, but I immediately lowered it and recovered myself. The McNally boy (I could now see it was Roger) then pulled my shorts back up, wiggling them past my butt. I quickly scanned the mall's food court, hoping nobody had seen me. Alas, there were all sorts of men and women smiling at me... like I was this cute, adorable pipsqueak who wasn't old enough to clean-up after herself.

I blushed and began whimpering.

"My boobies and vagina! You - you showed everyone my boobies and vagina!" I cried. "The shower was one thing and the street was another - there was almost nobody there. But HERE?! There - there are so many people... and you showed them EVEYTHING! Wah!"

"Big deal. They're so small, nobody noticed. Now finish your ice cream. Every last bite!" ordered Deborah. "And for now on, call me Mommy."

"Wh... why?!"

"Just do it! Or I'll get angry... and you wouldn't like me when I'm angry."

"Yes... Mommy."

I ate the ice cream as quickly as I could, but it was dripping faster than I could lick around the edges, and the stroller-ride was bumpy. I was making a mess... and I could feel my stomach making unhappy gurgling sounds.

But I didn't want to make "Mommy" angry so I ate everything, including the cone.

While being steered through the mall at breakneck speed, I did my best to lick my hands clean. Looking up, I noticed that my stroller was being pushed into Marcy's New York Boutique, my favorite store in the mall. They had the best clothes - by far the hottest, sexiest (and most expensive) dresses! The only thing I didn't like was their bitchy saleswomen. They were all college girls with model-quality bodies and cunty attitudes! Whenever I'd ask for a beautiful new design in a small or petite size, they'd roll their eyes and act like it was MY fault for inconveniencing them.

On more than one occasion, I complained to the manager - and gotten some of the bitchier girls fired. (When you spend as much money as I do at the mall, the manager tends to listen. 'Cause if he doesn't listen, he knows I'll call his corporate bosses - and then HE'D be the one fired!)

"Deborah!" I panicked. "This is Marcy's New York Boutique!"

"So?"

"I - I can't go into that store looking like THIS! The saleswomen there... some of them, they... I mean, they..."

"...They hate you? Oh, I know! You've gotten some of my best girlfriends fired."

"But - but..."

"Look on the bright side, Charlotte: Maybe they won't recognize you."

She wheeled me past the adult section and towards the "Junior Miss" collection. Deborah gleefully approached a pretty saleswoman with fire-red hair, two nose piercings and an hourglass figure.

I knew this saleswoman well: Her name was Vanessa Smith. She was a college senior, a sorority princess and a wannabe fashion designer. And she was the biggest bitch on the planet! (I think she was dating the store manager, because no matter how much I complained about her, she was the only saleswoman I could never get fired.)

Time and time again, I'd see a beautiful new dress on the shelf, and ask Vanessa to fetch me one my size; she'd cop an attitude and say, "I'm sorry, ma'am. We make clothes for normal-sized women - not little midgets." I'd then go on a tirade - screaming at her, ridiculing her stupid piercings, and demanding to see the manager. At the end, I'd ALWAYS get my way. The manager would grovel at my feet and force Vanessa apologize to me.

"I'm... I'm sorry, ma'am," she'd mutter, looking down at my feet.

"Look me in the eye and say it, missy!" I'd counter. "Unless those Crackerjack toys in your nose are weighing down your face!"

Her lips would tremble, she'd be so angry! But she always, always capitulated at the end. Good! Serves her right for tangling with someone like ME! Hey, the customer is always right - and the REAL Golden Rule is, the one with the gold makes the rules! And I had the gold!

But I wasn't feeling so self-confident at the moment...

Deborah and Vanessa Smith gave each other warm, tight hugs, kissing each other on the cheek. I guess they both knew each other. Deborah whispered something in Vanessa's ear - and the saleswoman looked at me and GRINNED!

I cowered in the stroller and tried to hide my face...

The two girls walked over to me. I nervously looked up:

"Hi there, [snicker] little girl!" giggled Vanessa in an unnecessarily loud voice. "I understand you need some back-to-school clothes. Is that right?"

Avoiding eye contact, I nodded my head.

"Let me guess," she continued. "You're going to be in the... seventh grade?"

Seventh grade! What the fuck?! I graduated from COLLEGE more than five years ago! I was the president of my sorority! I dated the captain of the football team! Seventh grade?!

"Y... yes," I squealed. "I'll be going to the seventh grade!"

"Well, that's lovely," Vanessa laughed. "Come into the dressing room. We'll pick some cute new outfits for you."

"You heard her, babycakes," Deborah ordered. "Out of the stroller!"

She unbuckled my straps. But I just sat there.

"N - no, thank you. I... I don't wanna shop today."

"Babycakes," scolded Deborah, "don't make Mommy mad! Hank, Roger - escort Miss Fussypants to the changing room."

"NO - WAIT!" I shrieked.

The McNally boys ignored my protests, lifting me up by my upper-arms. I HATED how small I was! The two boys walked me to the dressing room - my feet never once touching the ground. But because my arms couldn't hold onto my loose-fitting shorts, they started to slide down my legs! My rear-end popped into view!

"Look at that cute little bum!" giggled Vanessa.

My shorts continued to slide, until they slipped all the way down my legs and dropped to the floor. I - I was naked from the waist down!

"AAAHH! My - my shorts!" I cried. "STOP! I - I need to put them back on!"

"Well, you'll have new clothes to try on anyway," Vanessa reasoned, smacking my bare ass. "Hurry up, little girl! Tee-hee!"

The perv-twins finally put my feet on the ground. I scampered to the dressing room as fast as I could...

I pulled the dressing room curtain shut and sat down on the stool. The feel of the cold plastic stool on my butt sent shivers down my spine. I was half-naked in my favorite clothing store! And my least-favorite saleswoman was here to "help" me! Christ! ...Had Deborah told her who I was??? Or did Vanessa recognize me??? No, that was crazy... I mean, with the pigtails, how could she?

I closed my eyes and prayed to Jesus: PLEASE let me escape my dignity intact! Please... I'll do anything you want!

Suddenly the curtain was pulled open: Deborah, Vanessa and the McNally boys walked in. I instantly covered my lower half with my arms and crouched as low as I could.

"See?" laughed Deborah to Vanessa. "She's so modest! Isn't she precious?"

"She's a cutie pie!" agreed Vanessa. "And what a pleasant change, 'cause just between you and me, some of my other customers are total pains in the ass! Like, there's this one woman - a rich-bitch who's built like an anorexic Muppet, yet still throws a hissy-fit if the clothes aren't in her size. What a drama queen! I'm so glad YOU aren't like that, little girl!"

She ruffled my hair with her hand and gave my pigtails a wiggle - while Deborah and the perv-twins were laughing like loons.

"Thank you, ma'am!" I pathetically croaked.

"Well, stand up, cutie pie. Let's find you some nice new clothes."

I stood up, with my toes inverted - and my hands copiously placed over my pussy.

"Lift your arms, cutie pie."

I hesitated.

"But... I don't wanna let them see my naked vagina!" I whimpered.

"I understand, sweetie. But you need to remember that you're just a little girl. Nobody thinks of you as sexy. Maybe one day, when your body develops - but right now, you don't have anything a boy would find attractive."

"You can say that again!" cackled Deborah.

I shot daggers at her! Grrrrrr!!

"So arms up in the air, cutie pie," Vanessa ordered. "I don't have all day!"

I slowly removed my arms from my privates, revealing my shaved pussy to everyone once again. Sigh... Over the past five years, only my husband and my gynecologist had permission to see my pussy. Now? EVERYONE - even my worst enemies - were getting free looks!

"Very good. But we also need for you to put your arms in the air, sweetie."

I lifted my arms as high as I could. Vanessa swiftly whisked my chocolate-stained t-shirt off my body, exposing my tiny little tits.

For reasons I couldn't fully comprehend, I left my arms extended in the air, and stood there buck-ass naked before all four of them... barefoot and without a stitch of clothes on my body.

Vanessa burst into laughter.

"Oh, my! I mean... WOW! Your real body is SO tiny! Ha, ha, ha!"

My face turned as bright as a tomato.

"I'm sorry, cutie pie - I just didn't realize how TINY you are!"

She took me by the hand and pulled me out of the dressing room. I had already walked 20-or-so steps before I realized what was happening.

"Wait! WAIT!! Where - where are you taking me?!"