FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Cherlyn Becomes Cherry

---

Written by Arian Mabe (Amethyst Mare)

Commissioned by Nevaworks

_ _

Cherlyn scoffed and leaned back in the limo, her arms crossed over her chest, long, brunette hair tied back in a tight ponytail, though it was difficult to wrangle all of it under slick control when it was as thick as it was. But, as always with the famous popstar, she had to always have everything under control. At least she had a good, natural tan going for her, her body an ideal hourglass shape with her lips accentuated so that they were a little fuller than usual, all down to her lipstick and plumper. Her fake eyelashes fluttered behind her sunglasses as she glanced down at her phone, one leg crossed over the other with a six-inch heel dangling in the air.

It was taking too long, as usual, but she was short-tempered, to say the least of it, but having Gossip magazine open on her lap didn't help the matter. Photos of herself and Nathalie were splashed across the open page.

Nathalie out. Meet your new judge, America: British pop star CHERLYN!

_ _

She sighed, though it was a great opportunity, something to keep her interested, though there was a lot to distract her in life. Without looking at her phone, she tapped at the touch screen, holding it up in front of her as she made a call on speaker phone.

“Ugh, Connor…" She moaned, launching into the conversation before the person on the other end of the line had even had a chance to say anything. “It's so stressful working with new people! What if they don't have the sliced melon I like? The makeup team better be ready to shut up and listen to me too! I have very specific ways that I need to be presented!"

Of course, she knew what she liked and that was the end of it, the limo rolling smoothly down the road, Cherlyn groaning to her husband about her new role. Most people would have been thrilled about it, especially considering that she had pursued other avenues than an active music career in the end, but she could only see the problems, the obstacles in her way to shining. It was a good thing that Connor was a good listener, for he at least allowed her to get most of it off her chest before the limo pulled into the studio lot.

“Miss?" The driver caught her attention as Cherlyn hung up, lips twisting while her disapproval was mostly hidden behind her shades. “We're here."

“Great."

There was too much derision in her tone, but she strutted into the studio, up the ramp and through the doors, with the pride that she always carried with her.

And there they were – Viviana and her team. Although Cherlyn didn't know their names, only Viviana's, as her makeup artist, Kobe was of Japanese descent and Seb was flamboyant, a fancy, small scarf knotted around his neck, though he seemed to have a sharp eye for makeup and design, if his personal presentation was anything to go by. He, however, was the photographer, the one who would take images of her for her shoots and advertising material, though Cherlyn didn't really care as long as the day passed without much note.

“Everyone! Listen up!"

Cherlyn, however, didn't really care for them. Viviana, a slim woman with short, sharp blonde hair cropped around her cheeks, smiled widely and clapped her hands for attention.

“This is, Cherry, she's here to be the new presenter – how exciting!"

Before she could stop them, Kobe and Seb chorused a welcome to her, using the nickname that wasn't really a nickname at all – it wasn't even shorter than her name.

“No, my name's Cherlyn," she said primly, her sunglasses still in place. “Thank you."

Her tone was so sharp and so clipped that she could have cut glass, but the others only smiled and nodded.

“Ok, Cherry."

“No problem, Cherry!"

She frowned, about to say more, but there was not even a seat for her there in the makeup studio, a photography section set up with lights and a backboard across the room. How unprofessional was that? Unfortunately for Cherlyn, Viviana bustled in before Cherlyn could even say anything, holding her hands up and snapping for attention.

“Alright, everyone! Let's make this a great day! First, I need to see what I'm working with… Lorel! Lafawna! I need you!"

Everything happened in a blur. Cherlyn would not have been able to stop the large women, dark-skinned of African American descent, from whisking her away, though she did gasp and protest, yanking her elbow out of the grip of the shorter woman's hand. Her fingernails had dug in more like claws, though Cherlyn was certainly not one to talk, considering that her own fingernails were long and painted, even if that was likely going to have to change for the shoot.

“Hey! Watch your hands there! You can't drag me about like this!"

“Oh, honey," Lorel laughed, more than large and strong enough to pick up Cherlyn if ever needed. “You've got to get bathed! What do you think you're here for?"

Nothing within her control: that was the answer. Yet Cherlyn did not know the truth of it, not as she was taken to a separate room – a large bathroom with a big tub set right in the centre of it. She smacked them away imperiously, telling them that she was quite clean enough for the test run and shoot, thank you very much, but Lorel and Lafawna appeared to be more than used to dealing with women like her.

“Get your hands off me!"

The words leapt from her lips before Cherlyn had a moment to register what they were doing to her, skilled, swift hands all over her, stripping her of her top, popping the buttons on the high-quality blouse. Nothing was ripped, but they handled her and her body as if she was nothing to them, as if it was all something they did daily.

“Stop that right now!"

She fought back, clawing at them, though Lafawna held her hands down and behind her back as Cherlyn screamed and thrashed, red in the face, her sunglasses hanging askew. Everything about her prim and proper appearance was already fading, as if she was becoming someone that she didn't want to be.

They yanked her shirt free, her bra on show. Although it was pretty and good quality, of course, that it was thick with padding was obvious, Cherlyn knocked back, eyes wide, wondering what they were all going to say. Of course, their laughter rang out around her, even as the women yanked free her bra too, revealing her tiny breasts, which were not even A-cups, Cherlyn heaving, howling, straining and thrashing, all to cover herself up again.

“You bitches! Give me that back right now! You can't do this to me – who the hell do you think you are?"

Yet her words did not come out with the bite that she wanted, heart pounding, blood rushing to her head. No, oh, no, it could not be happening, she couldn't have her tits out like that! She even wore padded bikinis to the beach! No one had seen her like that but her husband – and she took great efforts to make sure the lights were off even then!

“If you don't let me go, I… I…" She tried to find a threat, but she was on the back foot, eyes wide, bulging, fearing for all that they could see. “I'll walk! I don't have to be here – I'll go! If you treat me like this – hey, let me go!"

Cherlyn howled and kicked upwards, though Lorel caught her boot neatly in one hand, sliding it off her foot and going to work for the other too, separating Cherlyn neatly from her footwear. But she could not ignore how Lorel squashed her body against hers, seeming to loom so high over her, her breasts rubbing against Cherlyn's side even as the larger woman dragged her skinny jeans down and off her legs, revealing her flat, saggy buttocks, how her clothes had given her shape.

Of course, with her boots off, she dropped sharply from five feet four inches to four feet eleven inches, diminutive, tiny, as if she could not put up a fight with her flailing fists and struggling resolve. She had to stop them, had to do something, yet being bare in part before them was still something that Cherlyn could not push back against, not without a cold twist of fear gripping her heart.

Her socks were next to go, though Cherlyn thrashed and shrieked and ripped herself against Lafawna's strong hands, but the woman had a grip like a vice! She smiled above Cherlyn, the woman quailing a little, though her fury and obvious humiliation at being treated like a child – worse than that – boiled over.

“I'm going to have your jobs for this! Just what the hell do you think you're doing treating me like this! I'll speak to your managers! I'll have everything from you!"

Only when she was down to her underwear did they take her wedding band and engagement ring, complete with a sizeable diamond for her, though Cherlyn didn't have a chance to say anything. They pressed in around her, ominous and foreboding, so very obviously saying without any words at all that they were in control.

“Oh, honey… What a nice rock! But your butt is too big for these jeans, what stylist dressed you?"

Cherlyn groaned, her real body revealed, something that the world and media would comment non-stop on, having more than a field day if anyone found out, let alone how tiny her tits were. Everyone expected her to have giant knockers, at least ones that fit her frame, but noooo, she was cursed with flat boobies, practically nothing at all there.

Lafawna grinned, pressing in, squashing Cherlyn's face between her bosom and Lorel's, pinning her in place between them.

“Yes, with tits like this, what did you think you were doing stuffing them into a tiny little bra like this? You need sizing!"

“I think you've put on a few pounds since your last shoot for Gossip magazine – didn't you know that you should be keeping those off?"

“At least you've got pretty hair, we can work with that!"

Cherlyn growled and shoved at them, but they towered over her, contrasting her size, feeling so small, so diminutive, as if she didn't matter at all, though they still had her underwear to get off. Neatly and efficiently, they pinged the back of her bra free, releasing her breasts, and Cherlyn gasped, short on breath and words to push back against them, as red in the face as she was.

But that did not stop Lorel from squatting and sliding down her body, ensuring that she ground her breasts against every part of Cherlyn that she could along the way, taking her underwear with her. It was the final piece of clothing to be removed from Cherlyn's body, though it was not as if she had had any choice in the matter, heaving and panting, her sunglasses flung on the floor somewhere, hair sticking damply to the back of her neck where she had sweated.

“Alright, honey! Into the tub you go! You'll be all shining and glowing after a dip, don't you worry!"

Lafawna and Lorel knew their jobs well, though Cherlyn tried to run, bare feet slapping the tiles. She'd barely even taken in the bathroom while her debasement had been playing out, though the steaming tub of water should have caught her attention sooner. Lafawna grabbed her around the waist and, demonstrating shocking strength even for a woman of her large size, hoofed Cherlyn into the tub without ceremony.

“Aaaaagggghhh!"

Cherlyn shrieked and gasped, boiling water searing her skin, though, thankfully, it was not enough to burn her. She howled and tried to clamber straight back out, hair clinging to her face, over her eyes, a rat's nest of soaked strands, but Lorel shoved her straight back in, holding up a giant translucent white jug.

“Hang in there, sweetheart, we've got you!"

“Yeah, got to make sure you're ready for the big shoot!"

They grinned madly, pouring what Cherlyn could only describe as a myriad of strong chemicals into the tub – far, far stronger than anything that she would have chosen to use on her skin. The hot water burned enough as it was, though the strong chemicals blasted her skin, from a prickling tingle to an urgent throb and pulsating searing. Her body screamed at her to get out, sharp, acrid smells and more floral ones (however strong they were, perhaps undiluted) assaulting her nose, but every attempt was met with a hand in just the right place to shove her back into the water.

“Ahhhhh, no! No, let me out – do you know how sensitive my skin is? I can't use that on my skin – get away from me!"

“Girl, you've got to be good for your washing, sit yourself down now."

They grabbed her arms, scrubbing her down unceremoniously, the sponges rough – the kind that had not soaked up enough water to be called sponges. Like what Cherlyn was used to, however, they did not become soft and pliable but practically scraped up her already raw, abused skin with the scrubbing, Cherlyn bobbing up and down in the huge, oversized tug, screaming, trying not to swallow water.

“I'm going to have your jobs for this – you can't treat me like this!"

Of course, her threats fell on ears that were not listening, for they already knew the scope of their jobs, even shoving her head under the water so that she had to thrash back to the surface again. Gasping and spluttering and trying to keep as much water out of her mouth as possible, Cherlyn scrambled against the slippery, wet edge of the tub, striving to drag herself out while her underarms and down her belly, even over her breasts, were harshly scrubbed.

Even between her legs was not safe, dumped headfirst back into the water with her legs kicking and splashing while they made sure they were clean too, red and raw with the chemicals and heat of the water. But the moment that Cherlyn came back to the surface, heaving for breath and lost for words, a huge dose of shampoo, more than an entire bottle, was dumped out on her hair, pouring slickly over her face, leaving her mouth gasping, a dark hole in the midst of it.

“Urrrrggghhhh – no! No, don't you dare touch my hair – no! Didn't you hear what I said?"

Of course, they ignored her, as they had been doing so far, scrubbing with both hands as if her hair was even thicker than it was, much longer too, but Cherlyn's heart pounded.

A chunk of hair came away in Lafawna's hands and the women stared at it, shocked, before Lorel and her laughed aloud. Hands returned to her hair, grabbing and tugging, searching for the extensions within that had given her lusciously dark hair its glow and volume, something that not even her husband knew about!

One extension after the other hit the floor with a wet slap of hair as Cherlyn found her breath and screeched, threatening them, their jobs, that they were hurting her. Of course, none of it had any effect.

“Ohhhh, so none of this was your real hair at all!" Lorel taunted her, dangling her extension in front of her face. “We'll just have to get them all out then!"

“Don't you dare! Let go of me, I'm not having any of this – I'm leaving now! Screw the show!"

But they didn't care, ripping out hair extension after extension, keeping count the whole while with obvious glee. The pile of wet hair on the floor grew and grew, though Cherlyn didn't think any of it was worth doing the show anymore, not honestly, even if she couldn't get her damn self out of the bath again without their help.

Up to one-hundred-and-thirty-two extensions were ripped from her hair, reducing it down to a lank, wet, dripping mop atop her head. Her heart lurched, though the pain searing across her scalp accosted her more demandingly than anything else, swatting away Lorel as she, at least, tried to help Cherlyn sit up more, so that the water wasn't sloshing around her chin as much as it was.

“Get off me!"

Lorel shrugged.

“Just trying to help you, honey. We're only doing our jobs here."

Maybe that was so, but it was not a job that Cherlyn had ever been subjected to. Yet another humiliation had been hiding in the wings as Lafawna poked at her head, lifting a sodden lock of hair.

“What are these…" She grinned, a white flash of teeth stretching her lips wide in a smile that promised trouble for Cherlyn. “Ohhhh, where have you been hiding these ears? They're so big! Lorel, have you ever seen ears as big as this?"

Cherlyn's cheeks heated up, though she couldn't drag her thicker hair down over her ears anymore, the ears that were her biggest shame. She'd been mocked for them far, far too much in her childhood, but that didn't stop the embarrassment of simply having them carrying on over into adulthood, wanting to sink away into the hot water, if only to have somewhere to hide. Humiliation like that, the searing, pounding heat of it, didn't have any place in her adult life – yet there it was anyway, two grown adult women making fun of how big her ears round, sticking out comically from the sides of her head.

They cackled, poking at them, though Cherlyn found herself again, beating their hands away. Yet, no matter what she did, she just didn't seem to be quick enough for them.

“Get away from me! You've seen ears before, haven't you? Have some respect!"

But they didn't, most certainly not as Lafawna grabbed her ear and pinched it sharply, ignoring Cherlyn's shriek.

“Oh, never ears like this! And you haven't even been cleaning them out – you should know what that can do to your hearing!"

Lorel nodding, leaning in close, dominating and looming over her, inspecting Cherlyn's other ear, flanking her on either side of the tub. There was nowhere for Cherlyn to go, not as her eyes darted frantically from one side to the other.

“Girl, you've got to clean out your ears properly," Lorel admonished her. “Don't you know anything about proper hygiene?"

They scolded her as if she was a child who had forgotten the bare basics of cleaning her body, Cherlyn's cheeks burning as they dug huge cotton swabs into her ears. The twisting spiral of them could have been a comforting feeling if she was home taking care of her own needs, yet it was nothing like that, not as the huge swabs were dug ridiculously deep. It should have been deep enough to hurt her, but all it did was make her eyes bulge ridiculously, almost as if they were about to pop out of her skull.

“Owwww! Too deep! Fuck! You're hurting me – owwww!"

They ignored her wails, tossing the cotton swabs aside instead of luffas: big, rough pole-like scrubbing implements that were often used for exfoliation on tougher parts of the body or cleansing the back, hence the long shape of them. Although Cherlyn thought that she had already been scrubbed within an inch of her life, hair reduced to her natural, dark locks (which weren't much to look at without the extensions in place), they had more in store for her.

The intrusions that had taken place already were not the true extent of it as she was hefted up to stand in the tub, dripping like a street urchin, gasping and heaving, trying to rally enough to shove them off her. It did no good, not as Lorel settled on scrubbing her chest and slightly sagging breasts with the huge loofa, getting around and under them, even directly across the nipples.

“Owww – hell! Get off! That's too much, you're hurting me!"

“Ooooh, she says we're hurting her!" Lafawna laughed, a deep belly laugh that echoed around the bathroom with the usual, hollow acoustics. “Come on, little girl, spread your legs for me. Got to get all of you clean whether you're going to comply or not!"

Lorel, in the end, had to hold Cherlyn's legs apart, holding her up against her body while Cherlyn squealed and thrashed, wondering, in part, if either of them were hearing her protests at all. What was the point of saying anything if they were going to ignore her? She'd never truly been helpless before and it was a feeling that, quite honestly, she didn't like at all, the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach that she pushed down further, ignoring.

No… No. Not even as her cheeks burned with humiliation laid bare, her pussy scrubbed with the loofa between her legs, back and forth, she could not give in. She had to fight, had to let them know that she was no beginner to the business, that they couldn't take advantage of her and her body like that.

She swore and cursed and splashed, anger rising, but they ground the loofa up over her arse too, squeezing it hard against her buttocks as if they were trying to get between them to her rear cheeks too, one of the worst humiliations of all. Lorel helped by spreading Cherlyn's round cheeks so that the loofa could rub against her arsehole as well as her pussy, grinding over her folds.

Cherlyn crumbled, wailing, though anyone would have succumbed to the pain at that moment, how it rasped over her pussy and even her clit too. As much as she fought it, however, they were still stimulating her body in some way, the heat creeping through her of the illicit kind, the kind that, frankly, she only ever wanted to experience with her husband.

No… Fuck… No…

_ _

She had always been one to swear, tipping into foul language, though no more so than in her mind. Cherlyn panted heavily, breasts rising and falling sharply with every snatched breath, needing it, hating it, wanting anything but for the moment to continue playing out as it was.

“Oooh, look, what a toy we've found here!"

She didn't care which of the women said that, mentally begging for it to stop while her mind was more actively engaged in simply making sure that there was enough air in her lungs with every harsh, ragged gasp. Her body burned from the inside out, aching deeply, but she could not stop the effect the loofa had on her body being stimulated, even then, her body trying to shift and grind, even if her mind tried to rip her away from it. Torn between two opposing conflicts, she heaved for breath, trying to turn her face away, her whole body shaking with raw need.

No, hell… This can't be happening, this can't be happening… Nooooo!

_ _

Yet she had to wait, arching, tipping to the edge of climax, heaving and gasping while Lorel and Lafawna exploded into deep, ringing laughter.

“Ohhhh, she liked it too much – we almost got her!" Lafawna bellowed, slapping her thigh, dropping her back into the tub.

Frustration that had no place there coursed through Cherlyn, aching deeply – she'd been so close! And yet it was not as if she had wanted to get off in front of the women either, not with how they'd been abusing her – it wasn't right! But what was right didn't always line up with what the body needed.

Lorel, in similar form, laughed and shook her head, holding the loofa out and away from her before dropping it, as if she was grossed out by Cherlyn grinding on it, practically climaxing before they'd taken it away.

“Little girl, you're enjoying this all too much, aren't you?"

Cherlyn gaped, standing, water spilling from her body, not even caring that her tits were out.

“Fuck you!" She roared, hands flying, gesturing as she talked – not that it would do her much good against the women still standing over her with wide grins on their faces. “You think you're so big and strong just because you can push me around a little bit? Well, you're shit wrong – that's what! I'm leaving now and fuck you and your jobs! I'll take my role as presenter but you lot sure as fuck won't be here!"

They only laughed at her, for what could they do besides not take her one bit as seriously as Cherlyn wanted to be taken.

“Oh, Cherry, you are a laugh! What are you thinking, coming in here like you're the big boss suddenly?" Lorel teased. “We're just doing our jobs and a lady like you can't get anyone fired around here!"

Cherlyn swore, but wasn't quick enough to correct them, once again, on calling her Cherry. Lafawna, however, loomed darkly over her, lips pressed together as she shook her head, shoving her tits in Cherlyn's face once again. It was hardly a position that Cherlyn wanted to be in as they trapped her, in the middle between them in the tub, squashed between their breasts with her face squashed and contorted in humiliation.

“But we don't tolerate that language around here, Cherry!" Lafawna admonished her with a wag of her finger, though her eyes promised trouble. “Better clean out that mouth of yours, Cherry!"

But she wasn't Cherry! She wanted to protest, but they were too swift for her, shoving bars of white soap into her mouth to scrub her tongue out, her tongue even yanked and dragged out from her mouth so that Cherlyn, quite literally, didn't have any say in the matter. She squealed, muffled by splashing water, and thrashed, but it was nothing at all for the much larger women to hold her arms down, even pinning her against their thick bodies when she struggled too much for their liking.

“Mmmph! Get off of me! Noooo!"

Of course, they didn't listen to her, laughing with their bosoms trembling as she was scrubbed up, soap rubbed over her face, even getting into her eyes, making them blur and stream in pain, blinking rapidly. Cherlyn shoved blindly, screeching through a mouthful of soap, as bubbles flowed freely from her mouth, soaping down her chest in glistening suds.

Spitting one bar of soap out did her no good either, for another bigger bar, was only shoved into her gob in its place, letting her know, quite surely, where her place there was. Lorel vibrated with laughter, her body damp where Cherlyn had been pressed up against her, the warmth of the larger woman's breasts pressing into Cherlyn's back. It might have been a comforting sensation, at another time, yet all Cherlyn could do was writhe and slam an elbow back into her tits, striving to free herself.

Another bar was shoved into her mouth to replace the one that had been spat out again, free for a moment and yet a passive player in her own life, helpless to do anything else. Fighting to rub the soap from her eyes with any water that she could scoop into her hands, Cherlyn finally got a moment, if only one, of respite.

“Don't get…ack…anything in my mouth!" She coughed and spluttered, shoving them away as she splashed, breathless and soapy, back into the water. “My vocal cords are precious! You don't know anything about singing, how vital they are! I'm due a comeback, you know – right after this show is all done!"

Lorel smirked, flashing something silver-black in the air before her, too quick for Cherlyn's eyes to follow it.

“Yowch!"

Yet she felt it, all as the metal hair claw clamped down on her nose, her eyes bulging out, streaming with tears. No more was she Cherlyn the popstar, the one who had had crowds on their knees adoring her, not to the women using and abusing her in there. But she did not know that, she didn't know how she looked, didn't know how her body was changing, being forced back to a state of being that she had not seen in many, many years.

The revelation would be something else indeed…

She hacked and screeched, trying to rip herself away, though Lorel held her in place with her fingers on the clamp, ensuring that it would be Cherlyn who caused herself further pain if she did move back.

Her howl echoed through the bathroom as Lafawna pinched her tongue, yanking it out once again to shove another bar of creamy yellow soap down her throat, sliding through her slippery saliva straight down her throat. Cherlyn's eyes and cheeks bulged comically as she was forced to take it down, though not even she was calm and cool and collected enough (it depended on the time) to ignore how it bulged out through her throat.

“Hic-hic-hic!"

She tried to scream around it, clawing at her throat, panic overcoming her as she thrashed, trying to get it out, eyes as wide as dinner plates, pointing frantically at her throat where the bulge of the soap bar slid down more and more. Lafawna and Lorel laughed and pointed in turn, as if she was a child who had found something funny to amuse the adults with, slapping their thighs and bellowing at her predicament.

“Oh, look at poor Cherry!"

“Hiccup for us, Cherry, hiccup!"

“That's what you get, Cherry, for using such foul language around us! You should be ashamed of yourself!"

Yet no amount of thrashing helped her out at all, soap foaming from her mouth as she hiccupped furiously and gulped, shaking her head, soaked hair clinging in ragged strands to her skin. Yet each hiccup came with a ridiculously large soap bubble from her lips, frothing around the back of her throat and in the base of her mouth, more and more hugely large bubbles popping from her mouth. They floated around the bathroom as if they had more substance to them than regular bubbles, though panic bubbled into anger in the pit of Cherlyn's stomach, hiccupping madly, adding to the many bubbles already in the air.

“Pop, pop, pop!"

The women laughed as they popped the bubbles, a tiny spray of soap where the film that had made up their surface exploding as they did, though that wasn't something that Cherlyn cared about. She grabbed at Lafawna's arm, though she was only hefted up and bent over the side of the bath, legs kicking and flailing as she scrambled against the slippery, wet surface for any purchase at all, something large pressed up against her backside.

“Relax now, Cherry, you can't be this uptight all the time!"

She didn't know who had said that, but she did not the feeling of something being pushed into her arsehole as Lorel used yet another, large, bar of soap to grease up her backside. The slippery bar did not push into her backside easily at all, not as she squealed and heaved, water dripping from her, taking the palm of Lorel's hand to grind it deeply up into her well-lubricated anus.

“Come on, Cherry!" They laughed over her squealing, weakly thrashing and twisting. “You can do it, you can do it, Cherry!"

It sounded, even to Cherlyn's ears, as if they were repeating set phrases that had no real purpose or meaning there, though she didn't know what to do, wound up from the soap that had been forced down her throat and even more riled up from the bulging bar of soap crammed into her arsehole.

“What… You've got to help me!" She demanded – and she would have stomped her foot too if she had been at all free to do so. “What do I do? Oh no – is it stuck in there? You've crammed a goddamn bar of soap up my arse, you freaks!"

“Push it out, Cherry! Come on!" Lorel made a pose as if she was cheering for her, though, somehow, she still managed to tower, the position coming quite naturally to her. “Push it out, push it out. Come on, Cherry: push it out!"

They chanted and Cherlyn growled under her breath, heart hammering, still refusing to acknowledge her own helplessness in the situation, who they were be damned. It didn't matter about anything else, she just had to get the bar out, squatting and straining with a comical groan. It only made them laugh even more, though bearing down and down and down didn't seem to do her any good, water sloshing around her, her backside under the surface.

“Ohhhh," Lafawna guffawed, slapping her thigh. “She looks like a mother hen! Is your egg stuck, mother hen? Come on, hen, lay your egg!"

“I swear, I'll have – agh!"

She gasped, legs flying up, even from her position, slipping as she'd tried to whirl around and give them a piece of her mind. And, just like that, her anger dissipated, panic overwhelming her, fear for herself, the soap vigorously shooting from her backside.

She splashed into the water with a huge spray, sloshing over the sides of the tub. The bathroom floor had to be near ruined, she thought, even if it was tiled, though there was nothing she could do, even if there was considerable relief there with the soap being out of her backside. She could still feel the weight of the bar she'd swallowed sitting heavily in her stomach and hoped that it would disintegrate naturally, allowing her to pass it. She was not going to go to the doctor about that and let the press have a field day with her, no way!

As always, her thoughts were on herself, hiccupping and with her eyes streaming – but not crying, never crying. Oh no, for that was not for Cherlyn, never for her, even as she made a strong mental note to correct the women, all over again, that they had not been using her correct name. Something must have gone awry somewhere, but she'd show them all that she was so much better than all of them thought she was. They must all have been living under rocks for fifteen years, not knowing who she was, not knowing her name, treating her like she was some scrappy amateur with big dreams fresh off the boat.

She'd already made her big name, yet Cherlyn did not even realise that everything was being stripped from her, even then, made less than she had ever been before. Even she, however, could not deny the tiny twinge of relief as she was hauled out of the water, huge towels wrapped around her as she was roughly and efficiently towelled dry, the women pressing in around her. Them leaning over her and blocking out the light didn't seem to matter anymore, not with her breath caught, striving to breathe still through the hiccups and soap bubbles, the occasional bubble still popping from her mouth.

“Unff… You… Hic… Can't…"

But Chery's furious words could not find a way, not even then, to force themselves out as they rubbed at her, exposing where the natural tan that she had claimed was real was, in fact, fake, smeared from the chemicals and the water, no longer even across her skin. The makeup had been practically welded onto her face for how much scrubbing it had taken Lafawna and Lorel to even get it off her, smearing across her eyes, black rings fading as they rubbed and rubbed. Her hair dye ran too, lightening her hair another shade, for that was yet another lie about it being her natural colour, even under all the thick mass of extensions Cherlyn'd been wearing. One of her fake eyelashes was still clinging on by the barest thread of hope, dangling down her face, and waved back and forth lightly as she coughed and hiccupped, eyes watering terribly.

She managed to scoop her second eyelash off the bath, though her skin still burned and ached from the chemicals, sticking it back on, though she still cared that it was lopsided. In one small way, it made her feel a little more like herself, even if Cherlyn was not all that sure if she could ever feel anything at all like herself ever again.

Yet the worst was left to come, so much more to come, as Lafawna and Lorel took her into yet another room, back into the hallway and a few doors down in what still had to be the studio – a room that looked more medical in appearance, as if it was a plain, clinical room in a posher kind of doctor's surgery. If it was a doctor's examination room, however, it was the kind of room where bad news was given with none of the softer furnishings and homely comforts, like fake plants, that had become as popular as they had in recent years.

“Ah, she's finally here!"

Doctors Sing and Amir, tall and busty with cunning smiles on their faces, loomed, Cherlyn trying to stand up tall, even as she was dumped unceremoniously on an examination table. Yet, even more so than when she was being washed, the world around her spiralled out of any control that she might have thought she'd had over it, the Indian women with their hair neatly pulled back and white coats on, protecting their clothes.

“She has the hiccups, doctor," Dr Sing said, musing as Cherlyn tried to sit up, eyes watering from the force of the hiccups. “Dear, oh, dear – we've got to fix this!"

Lafawna clapped her hands.

“Oh! I know just thing!"

Of course, they did, lunging for her and ripping off those dangling eyelashes as Cherlyn screamed, though the doctors took even less notice of her protests than Lafawna and Lorel had. Though she lunged for them as if clinging to a lifeline, it was not as easy as all that as she was forced to sit up on the table, her hiccups, strangely, gone after such a thing.

The doctors crowded her, looming, though she did not quail, wanting to cling onto some air of being professional still, covering her nudity the best she could.

“Now, now, let's start the exam, Dr Sing!"

“Yes, let us, Dr Amir!"

Their busts squashed against her as she was wrenched about, the table much lower than any that Cherlyn had seen in any doctor's practice before, though those had usually been examination beds. The cold hardness of the table pressed up against her buttocks as they dragged her to the side by her ear and jammed a scope into her ear.

“Dirty! So dirty! Cherry never cleans her ears!"

The other ear was checked, her temperature taken with a small ear thermometer that beeped angrily as Dr Amir shook it, her eyebrows shooting up as if in surprise.

“Goodness, what a hot head! No, oh no, we can't have this!"

Cherlyn could have protested, but everything happened so quickly around her that it was as if she was a cartoon character, her head tilted back, throat and jaw palpated as she gagged. They ignored that, forcing her to open her mouth to look inside, counting her teeth and chasing her wiggling tongue with a tongue depressor.

“Hold her!"

Dr Amir grabbed the back of her neck, forcing her to stick her tongue out as her eyes bulged, yet Cherlyn coughed, eyes streaming, the Indian ladies efficiently working over her. They didn't even treat her as a human being but more like an object, something that could be tossed about, that had to be put through its paces to test it out thoroughly.

“Say ahhhhh!"

Cherlyn tried to comply, the depressor pushing her tongue uncomfortably down between her teeth.

“Ahhhhhh!"

“Ugh!" The doctor waved the depressor, making a revolted face. “It spat on me! Her throat is dry – spray, please!"

“Right away, doctor!"

They worked so efficiently together that it was difficult to tell the difference between the two doctors, just a mass of breasts and hands that poked and prodded and pinched in all the wrong places, taking her breath away. Cherlyn gasped, a spray nozzle jabbed into the back of her throat for three thick sprays, leaving her hacking and coughing, bending over with her eyes streaming.

“Next!"

A stethoscope was jammed up to her chest, Dr Amir listening to the thudding of her heart.

“Heart rate elevated – no need for a breast exam though! Not when there's nothing here!"

Cherlyn blushed. It wasn't her fault that her chest was on the flatter side, though…it was how her body was, not something she spent much time thinking about otherwise. Her lips parted to push back, but they only took the chance to jab an otoscope into each nostril, checking up there, though they tutted and clicked their tongues as if everything was wrong with her.

“Can she see this, see this?" Dr Sing said, flashing a bright light into her eyes and zigzagging it back and forth. “Girl, can you see this, follow the light?"

Dr Amir scoffed.

“Don't waste too much time, the thing is dull as a butter knife."

“And about as useful as a chocolate teapot."

“Please… No…" She said, though her voice was raspier, coarser, after the spray. “What have you… You can't… No, you've wrecked my voice! You've ruined it! I can't go on stage and do a solo like this – agh!"

They ignored her, pushing her off the table and pointing to the ground.

“Quickly now, Cherry, touch your toes, go on now."

She obeyed, not knowing what else to do, still reeling from how her voice had sounded, but when she bent over something was jabbed straight up her arse! She squealed and tried to leap away, but they kept the thermometer in there for much longer than needed (especially as they had already taken her temperature…) as she thrashed in their arms.

How could she fight back after all that, heaving and panting, her face itchy after her washing, all the chemicals working away still, though she could not change the course of events that had led her there. A hand wound into her hair to tilt her head forcibly to one side and then the other, a thick cream smeared into her scalp – so thickly that it formed another layer, as if she had been painted with lard.

“What are you doing to me?" Cherlyn rasped, eyes watering, trying to catch up.

“Nothing for you to worry about. Fetch the measure!" Dr Amir said, dropping her back up on the table. “Chop-chop now, Cherry, we don't have all day to deal with you!"

Cherlyn wasn't being asked to do anything, but they still managed to make her feel inadequate, as if nothing she could do was good enough, small and weak and helpless, diminutive at best when directly compared to them. A foot measure was slapped up against her small foot, a measurement taken, while Dr Amir declared.

“Flat feet! Chubby ankles! Next!"

A set of callipers, in Dr Sing's hands, was dug into her stomach, which she had thought was slim before but somehow dragged out fat she had not known she was there. The doctors laughed aloud and shook their heads.

“This British sausage should eat fewer crumpets!"

“What?" Cherlyn bristled. “No! I'm not fat, how dare you speak that way to me? Ugh!"

They hauled her bodily onto the scales, a height measure drawn up to the point of her head, measuring her at one-hundred-and-twenty-five pounds in weight and four feet eleven inches in height, though her cheeks heated up indignantly.

“Whatever could you need all this for, I –"

“Oh, the little hobbit wants to say something," Dr Amir laughed. “Maybe I'd listen to her if she wasn't so chubby, little pork sausage bursting out of her own skin!"

They laughed raucously as humiliation burned through her, her cheeks redder than ever, jaw dropping. Yet no words of fury leapt to her lips, contained within her body, thrown off-balance by the frenetic nature of the physical exam. If anything could have thrown a person off their game, let alone Cherlyn, it was most certainly that.

“Lorel! Lafawna!"

Dr Amir said with a wide smile, clapping his hands. As if they had only been waiting around the corner to be summoned, the large African American ladies reappeared, dressed cleanly and freshly once more, though their breasts were still easily on show, the cleavage exposed to a huge extent. Still, there was a stark contrast in the others being clothed, however they chose to dress, and her being naked, shivering.

Dr Amir smiled as he nodded in Cherlyn's general direction.

“Taking this Cherry woman to be scrubbed, this fake tan needs to come off – all of it! She cannot possibly perform with all of that still stuck to her!"

“On it, doc!"

Lafawna grabbed Cherlyn by the scruff of her neck, though the woman thrashed and wailed, a truly ungodly sound that had no purpose in ever coming out of a human mouth.

“Let me go! I'm not standing for this! It's time for me to go to makeup – you can't possibly think that I'm going to let you go through with this humiliation!"

Cherlyn's words may as well have not been said at all for all the good they did as they hauled her into a new room, tossed into a shallower tub of steaming water. It was not as hot as the first, giant bathtub that they had launched her into, though she still shrieked as the hot water practically scalded her, the room set up with beauty products. She knew well enough, from her treatment so far, that that did not at all mean that things in there were going to go smoothly.

The woman howled as she was attacked seemingly from all sides, Lafawna's and Lorel's breasts squashing and rubbing against her, for they did not mind hauling her up in either of their arms to hold her body steady for them. The scrubbing brushes, long handles with short, rough bristles, raked all over her body, from her shoulders to her foot, though her little feet danced back and forth, trying to avoid them. They tickled as much as they harshly raked, Cherlyn gasping, once again red in the face, and not solely from the heat of the water.

“Agh! You can't do this to me! Get me out! I was washed!"

But her pleading like that, despite the brewing fury in her gut, didn't help. She didn't know why she thought, in some small way, that it would help, not as Lorel raked her hands over with harsher cleaning product, stripping off her nail polish that had not been taken care of previously. It seemed that there was a lot more of her to clean, that the initial washing had been to cleanse her skin and her private parts more than anything else, though a sick twist of humiliation curled and twisted in her guts at the thought of all that had happened with the bars of soap, much less anything else…

“Stay still now, Cherry!" Lafawna admonished her when she tried to rip her hands and feet too away. “You've got to stay still so that we can get you all scrubbed up for the show!"

“I'm not Cherry! Agh – what you are doing?"

But no one owed her an explanation as the gel polish was rubbed from her toenails too, streaming into the water and dissolving, her soles scrubbed even as she fought to yank her feet away. Cherlyn had never really been ticklish before, but it was hard not to be when her feet were being attacked like that!

What they did do, however, was make sure that every tiny little bit of her fake tan was gone, the high-quality tan that she had lied through her teeth time after time again and told everyone was real. It wasn't Cherlyn's fault that there were high standards for stars in her line of work!

Her face was the worse, rubbing with the brushes until she swore they had broken skin, not even able to allow a stream of curses to flow by her lips when she was so bruised, so broken, shaking in her own skin. Tears finally streamed down her face, though they were swiped away by the crude, coarse bristles, no marks left at all on her skin until she was left clean and red and scraped raw all over.

“There you go, Cherry, dear – now you can come out!"

Cherlyn shook terribly, not even correcting them, weakly allowing them to take her red-raw body from the shallow tub, so red that someone would not have been at all out of sorts in mistaking her for a lobster, though Cherlyn didn't want to think about that. But she had to hang on in there, had to show them all that she was the best of the bets, that she was very much so not someone to be trifled with, whatever the hell it was that they all thought of her.

She was not going to give up the fight, not when she could, in the end, stalk out of there with her head held high, her adoring fans loving her and a fat paycheque in her bank account – yes.

“Urf – hey! Be careful with my hair!"

They sat her down on a stool, still butt naked, but Cherlyn only scowled, crossing her arms over her chest, pulling back some semblance of dignity. But she was no longer a woman who could easily command a household and a crowd, her hair combed back so that her big ears were exposed, still sticking out from the sides of her head as they always had, a soft cream rubbed into her skin.

She swallowed a groan. That cold cream had no right at all feeling as good as it did. Damn it… It did help somewhat, easing the burn of her skin, but Cherlyn did not notice how it revealed her natural skin too, her body in its natural state. How that looked, however, would only come to be properly seen later.

She pretended to be professional, sitting with her back ramrod straight and proud – at least until Lafawna scooped her up in her arms as if she was a baby. Cherlyn gasped and protested too late in her arms, cradled against Lafawna's huge bosom, though the heat of the larger woman bore through her, reminding her, once again against her will, just how small and weak and helpless she was against the other women there.

But she would do it, prove them all wrong. It was nothing she hadn't done before.

“Mwah!"

Lafawna grinned, planting a huge kiss on Cherlyn's lips, handling her as if she weighed nothing at all. Cherlyn fought, squirming, but there seemed to be nothing that she could do even against the wriggling, wet force of Lafawna's tongue as it demanded entrance to her mouth. Her larger, plumper lips, all naturally and beautifully so, enveloped Cherlyn's as she forced her tongue deeply into Cherlyn's mouth.

“Mmmph! Mmmngggghhh… Nnnngghhh!"

Cherlyn's muffled sounds of protests were easily quelled, Lafawna merely squeezing her more tightly to her body to keep her in check, all where she was supposed to be. But that was not even the most humiliating part, not as her body was crushed from the other side by Lorel's strong bulk, her soft breasts squeezing into her, holding her in place while Lorel took advantage of the moment. Leaning in close, she slipped her tongue into Cherlyn's ear, corkscrewing it in and around. The inside and the outside of her ear were both fair game to the woman and Cherlyn was so lost in the moment, dizzy and dazed, that she did not even realise that, finally, she was being carried into the studio.

It wouldn't help her one bit.

Viviana and her team gasped audibly and Cherlyn could not help herself from quailing into Lafawna's tits, some part of her seeking solace from one who had taken advantage of her even then.

“Ahhhh – no! This can't be what we're working with!"

Cherlyn grunted as she was forced to stand, though her legs were wobblier than she would have honestly liked them to be, naked from head to toe in her natural form and body. She'd done so much to herself over the years that Cherlyn didn't even want to consider.

But there she was, Viviana, Kobe and Seb standing there with their jaws dropped, Lafawna and Lorel flanking her on either side, though they were very much not the bodyguards that Cherlyn would have liked for herself. There was no one to protect her there, only herself, but even that was not enough.

Four feet eleven inches: that was all her height came to without her heels, standing small and diminutive, as if she was never able to make her voice heard. Her hair was naturally ginger, every bit of the natural colour stripped out of it, though she had not realised that so much of it was gone. Her ears stuck out and on show, no one able to hide that they were there, her breasts, well… They were on the flatter side without her bras and clothes to accentuate them, her hair still damp, highlighting the scrawniness of her shoulders.

Cherlyn stared behind them at her reflection in the mirror, seeing herself changed for the very first time. Everything had been taken from her, rendering her something else entirely, even if it was, physically at least, who she really was. But wasn't it her right too to change her body as she pleased whenever she pleased? She hid her chest, of course, with both hands, though anyone looking at her would have to know that her breasts were nowhere near as large as her clothes had given the illusion of before.

Yet she was so different that those standing there could barely believe that she was the same person, so short, so plain, as if her body was so riddled with imperfections that to see her escalate to stardom was completely and utterly unheard of, something that could never have ever, not even the once, become a possibility.

“Here you go, Viviana."

Lorel handed Viviana the chart from the two doctors, the scalp cream and throat spray that had been “prescribed for her", along with her wedding and engagement rings. Frankly, the latter two were not anything that Cherlyn was going to need again, but Lorel and Lafawna could not keep hold of them, despite their positions there.

“Hey – those are mine! Give them back right now!"

Cherlyn lunged for them, though was torn between grabbing for her belongings and covering herself up, hands moving from her breasts and crotch where she had been, at the very least, attempting to maintain some sense of modesty. Yet all was revealed and she bared everything to their naked eyes as the room rang with guffaws.

“What – is that all you have on your chest?" Viviana laughed hard, almost tottering over from the sheer mirth of the moment. “I thought you were, like, a double-D or something! Gawd, that shows you what a good bra can do, hey? I didn't look all that closely at those flat titties earlier!"

“I'm not Cherry! Give that back to me! And give me my clothes right now!"

She tried to act like she was commanding, as if she was still on top, even though everything about her had been revealed and was on show. It didn't matter, truly, that she wasn't wearing makeup or anything – she was still Cherlyn! Her nudity, however, she could have done without, embarrassment flowing through her, heat up her cheeks and crawling down her neck in a red flush.

She hadn't known before that it was possible to feel as embarrassed as she did, for the reality of her body, not truly, had not been shown during the process. She had been an object to all of them there, the next item to check off their list, though it had not mattered to anyone that she was naked, not the whole time. Yet it was Cherlyn's humiliation over the entire process that made that poignant, that made it the worst thing in the room as she tried, even then, to scramble for her rings. If she got her rings back into her hands and onto her fingers, maybe that would make everything better, even in some small way.

“Look – she's got a crooked toe!"

“Does she even have a nail on that one – ew, gross!"

“Cherry, why didn't you tell us you were so flat-chested? We'll have to get you a super-duper bra now!"

“That's a freckle on her butt, that's a freckle on her butt – quick, Seb! Take a picture!"

Kobe giggled and danced from one foot to the other with sheer glee at the revelation she had found, though it should never have been pointed out, not like that. It was just a big freckle, one that was big enough to be a birthmark, yet there was nowhere Cherlyn could turn to get their eyes off her, even though her hands were back over her breasts and crotch, hiding herself the best she could. Of course, it was not enough, not even when she hunched forward and squeezed her thighs together, ginger hair dangling around her ears.

“How did you get away with having thin lips like that, Cherry?" Viviana laughed mean-spiritedly, poking at her face. “Oh my god… Were you always wearing eyebrow filler? That's messed up! So messed up…"

“And she's got a saggy butt too – didn't you need surgeries to fix this arse before?"

Kobe seemed particularly vindictive and agile, the woman seeming to dominate through her agility alone, eyes cruel and dancing. She prodded at Cherlyn's softer bits, the bits of her body that she tried to cover up, yanking her hands out from her breasts so that they, even then, could get a better look at them.

“And your hair! God!"

That had Seb laughing the hardest of all, the photographer wiping tears from his eyes.

“All of it… Extensions! What did you think was going to happen when we had to strip everything back to your blank slate, Cherry? We thought you were going to be pretty – and this is what we got?"

Cherlyn backed off, lips open and closing, their eyes no her, all over her, though there were too many imperfections on her body for her to hide all of them at once, as much as Cherry would have liked to. They were all small things that made up a body, but the big stars and pop stars expected so much more from people, especially from women. She faltered for the first time, lost for words, thinking repeatedly that she was not Cherry, that she was Cherlyn.

I'm not Cherry, I'm Cherlyn.

_ _

Like that was going to do her any good. It wasn't even any kind of mantra for her to fall back on, bristling and drawing her shoulders up tall again. But if she was Cherlyn, that meant that she didn't have to take any of their shit either!

Viviana rubbed the back of her hand across her forehead, bubbles of laughter still bursting from her lips as she surveyed her chart.

“This… You… This is what is considered the so-called hottest thing in England?" Viviana chortled. “You're just a hobbit, so short and tiny! And your weight – didn't you know that you were supposed to go on a diet for this? Did you think you were too posh to need it, hm, Cherry? Aw, that would be sweet if it wasn't so sad!"

Cherlyn growled, spitting back verbally.

“What are you to talk? You couldn't afford even proper eyelash extensions!"

“Oooohhh, you think you're a sassy one, don't you?" Viviana said, pouncing as if she was relishing being in a position to take Cherlyn (or Cherry) down another peg, a vicious glint in her eyes. “But you're nothing here. Why don't we take another look at your chart, shall we?"

The others crowded her as Viviana read, making fun of everything from her physical exam.

“Mapping on the tongue, hair loss already – goodness, Cherry! No wonder you needed those extensions! They were the only thing that made you look at least somewhat like a normal persona – and that's saying a lot!"

Cherlyn squealed and yanked herself away, but they were all there, Lafawna, Lorel, Seb and Kobe, everyone circling her, pressing in, towering and looming as if they were much, much taller than her. Truth be told, Cherlyn did feel smaller than ever before them, especially as she swore and they shoved her head down, forcing her to take another dose of scalp cream directly onto her bare head, her thin hair not doing much to protect it.

“Get the fuck off me! I don't need that, don't need any of it! What is wrong with you people?"

“Oh, nothing is wrong with us, Cherry, just you, it's all wrong with you," Viviana said, flipping the page of Cherlyn's chart. “You have freckles too – tut-tut-tut. Ginger and freckles, you're a walking sun hazard, and with all that fake tan on… Did you think going around like an Oompa-Loompa from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory was going to make you look any more attractive? It would take a lot more makeup than what you had on, girl, to make you look anything like anyone a man would want to be with!"

Lorel yanked her head back as Lafawna pulled at her ears, the others pulling at them, blowing in them, the cold shocks sending her squealing, Cherlyn hating the high-pitched tone of her cries all the while. Yet she had to try, had to try to get away from them and show them what she was made of, even though things had already spiralled far, far out of her control. If she had been an outsider looking in, she would have known better when to make her escape than she did right then, but she was not to know, not as a person so wrapped up in the moment that she didn't know where to turn.

“Ah!"

Her ear was pulled.

“Ugh!"

Someone blew in her face and then her ear, cold air blasting her uncomfortably.

“Get off me!"

And yet they were relentless, making fun of the size of her feet as Lorel hefted her squirming, fighting, red-faced body up in her arms so that they could all get a better look at them. They weren't even very nice feet and she'd had a foot model substitute for her in that film, but the curl to her toes was even more unattractive up close.

“Gawd," Seb exclaimed, making a face as they yanked out her kicking feet. “How do you even walk this flat? Are you a duck or something? Quack-quack-quack!"

Heat seared into her cheeks as a snarl leapt unbidden from her lips, not pretty at all, though Cherlyn did not know what else to do. Even then, she could only do something, could only try, could only fight to squirm free, though her small, petite body didn't seem effective at all against the might of those that dominated her. Kobe lifted her foot as if curious as to its shape, how that could be possible, giggling and pointing with the tip of a finely manicured nail.

“Gosh, Seb, you're right," she agreed, eyes wide. “And she even has cankles too! I thought that was just a thing in films and stuff! I mean… Who honestly has cankles anymore? You're meant to be a popstar, Cherry, but what kind of star in any place has cankles, of all things?"

Cherlyn screamed and ripped her feet back, though nothing could ease down the blush from her cheeks, how it felt like her world, the world that she had known for too long, was crumbling around her. The scalp cream had been smeared on too thickly and she fought like a wildcat to free herself, the pressure of a much larger body bearing into her rendering her fights impossible to win.

Kobe did not stop there, her fingers exploring Cherlyn's body while she was restrained, pinching her buttocks and her belly too so that a sharp rise of blood leapt to the abused spot. Cherlyn yelled and landed half a kick to Kobe's shoulder, but the woman laughed and brushed it off as if she did not feel it at all.

They put her down, though Cherlyn had nowhere to go, turning in a circle and trying to cover herself still, though Kobe poked at her sides, mocking her “love handles". Cherlyn bristled. What? She didn't have anything like that! And yet Kobe found every tiny bit of fat on her body as if it was all there to be examined, as if under a microscope, every tiny imperfection, from the way one hip bone stuck out a little more than the other to how the fat in her cheeks didn't sit quite right. Without makeup, the contours of her face were all wrong, not allowing her any of her usually smoothly dramatic flair, what Cherlyn was most used to presenting to the world.

“Go on, try to stop us, silly Cherry," Kobe goaded her on, skipping out of reach as Cherlyn tried to lunge after her while still covering up her body. “What's after her flat feet, Viviana? Maybe her squishy calves, how big they are – and there isn't even any real muscle in there! What about the freckles on her shoulders? She looks like she's been splattered with paint!"

Viviana wrinkled up her nose less than delicately, but there was no need to be delicate at all with or around Cherlyn.

“Ugh, it would have been an improvement if she had been painted… She'd pass for a child if not for how old she looks, those disgusting crow's feet. You should have those taken care of, Cherry, or else you'll never get anywhere in life."

Cherlyn growled and snapped back.

“Once again, I am not Cherry – I am Cherlyn. Do you have some difficulty saying my name or something? Give me my clothes back right now! I'm not doing this anymore; all of this is insane! I didn't come in here for the free humiliation, you know!"

Viviana turned a page to the last of her chart, lips moving as if she had not heard a single word that Cherlyn had said at all.

“Wrinkles everywhere, sagging skin… You should have been better to yourself when you were much, much younger, Cherry, then maybe you would still be worth something. This is all going to be so hard to work with – look, actually take a good look at yourself in the mirror and you'll see what we see. It's a wonder that you haven't seen yourself properly before, but not all that surprising with all that makeup caked on. You had to hide it somehow, Cherry, but it's misleading to the rest of us when you're so ugly underneath."

A full body mirror was shoved in front of her and Cherlyn gasped. She might have seen herself at a distance before, in the background mirror that had been behind her tormentors, but the narrower mirror, intended for trying on clothes, had lights around it too, like a makeup mirror, magnifying everything. Yet like a makeup mirror, it had the effect of enhancing every imperfection, every pore rendered huge and gaping, her fat looking fatter, fat that she had not even thought was there.

Forgetting her nudity, Cherlyn grabbed the mirror with a whimper, heart sinking and turning over multiple times. Was that really what she looked like? She was old without everything on her face, everything that she had taken great care with to maintain her looks and appearances, yet she was nothing without everything that she had used to enhance herself. Ginger hair would not have been bad on its own, but it was thin and clinging to her scalp, smeared with the cream, looking herself up and down to the lines of her body that were nowhere near as clean nor as smooth as they had once been. It was as if the person that Cherlyn had been forced into another body entirely, one that she did not recognise.

Flanking her on either side, Viviana and Kobe helped her see her faults, though they didn't go from head to toe and merely chose their favourite ones.

“Those ridiculous monkey ears, Cherry," Kobe mocked. “You could catch a flight with those! And your hearing has been ridiculously dull the whole time, it's crazy that your ears are so big when you're just not listening to anyone. Your skin has hardly seen the sun, let alone a real tan, you look so pale, wan… You really look unhealthy, Cherry. Is that really the image you want to present?"

Cherlyn squirmed and opened her mouth, but Viviana was quick to step in.

“Your nose isn't cute anymore too, I don't know who you paid off to make it look as cute as a button in all that shoots, you could give a wicked witch a run for her money! But your lips…ugh… I can't imagine what I would do if I had lips like that. And what a ridiculous double chin on you, no wonder you had so much makeup slathered on, it took forever to wash you – that's what the ladies tell me!"

Of course, Lafawna and Lorel weren't going to deny that, standing back to allow Viviana to do her most cruel of work, pointing out her tiny feet, her flat feet, the myriad of freckles in places that Cherlyn had never seen in years, spreading down her back and her butt. Even her thighs were thicker than they had been before, no longer toned, flab rubbing together even though the sagging skin there was merely an effect of ageing.

“Fuck you," Cherlyn spat as Viviana grabbed her ear and twisted it, managing, for once, to swat her away. “Pointing out all my imperfections like you're so perfect. How many grey hairs do you think I would find in that dyed mop of yours if I looked?"

Viviana's eyes gleamed.

“Ohhhh, well, we can check if you like, Cherry!"

Kobe grabbed her head, helping Viviana to comb too roughly through her ginger hair, thickly clumping together where the cream had not yet sunk in, though it was likely not designed to.

“Aha! See!" Kobe pulled back triumphantly, a tweezer in her hand and a look of victory on her face. “A grey hair! Oh, Cherry… Ageing has done a number on you, hasn't it?"

They grabbed her hair, wrenching her back and forth, yet Cherlyn never once dropped the mirror, as if holding onto it was a lifeline that she had to cling onto at all costs. Once they knew she had grey hairs, they were relentless, pulling her to the side to pluck them out, all while Cherlyn stared back at her own horrified eyes in the mirror, wishing that it would all stop.

She was the only one who could make it stop, yet it was quite as if every last little modicum of her power had been stripped from her with her beauty, no longer sure of her footing, even if fury boiled in the pit of her stomach. It was there that it seared and lashed out, not knowing where to aim itself, but Cherlyn still knew that she had to do something, had to fight back, had to push back at them at all costs.

She couldn't let herself be taken advantage of again.

Viviana held up the grey hairs next to her head, grinning from ear to ear, as Seb leaned in with his camera.

“Pinchy!"

Cherlyn jumped, shocked, lowering the mirror a little. The camera flash hadn't gone off yet, however, and they had merely been waiting for their next best chance, their opportunity. As quick as a flash, Viviana and Kobe pinched her nipples hard, grinning wildly, though their smiles did not hide their shrieks of glee in:

“Pinchy-pinchy!"

Cherlyn screamed, dropping the mirror. She almost didn't register the glass shattering into a thousand pieces before her, flying across the floor, only the pain lancing through her chest as she ripped herself away.

Viviana only tutted, clicking her tongue disapprovingly against the roof of her mouth.

“Ohhhh, that's seven years of bad luck for you now, Cherry. Too bad, so sad."

Seb grinned, stepping forward to show Viviana and Kobe the photos he had taken on the back of his digital camera.

“Look at these… I got some excellent shots of her flat chest! Even caught the mirror mid-fall! You can't just make expressions like that happen to a flat-chest flat-foot bimbo like that!"

“Bimbo?" Kobe laughed and scoffed. “Please, she's as dumb as a bag of rocks, but you've got to have some looks to be a bimbo. Cherry's just dumb and ugly, what more is there to say?"

Cherlyn scowled and rubbed her chest, stepping back, her gaze sliding away to the door, but, of course, it was blocked by Lafawna and Lorel, their arms crossed, standing there as if they were bouncers.

“You fuckers," she hissed through her teeth. “Delete those pictures immediately and perhaps I won't sue you! You have no right to treat me as you have! No goddamn right at all!"

“Oh, the bitch still has a foul mouth on her," Seb said dismissively. “But look how hard her nipples are in this shot, you can really see it, even through the camera."

Viviana smiled, almost purring.

“You are a master at what you do, Seb. No one else could have captured the horror and humiliation in the silly girl's face like you have, bravo, really, bravo."

Cherlyn gasped, red in the face, anger returning, the fury of being treated as if she was nothing to them boiling over, straining and bubbling like a pot brought too quickly to the boil to be free. Yet her words were cut across by Viviana brushing past her, saying something about the styles all being planned out already, that America will get the best chance to finally see the true Cherry, who she truly is.

“I'm not going anywhere looking like this," Cherry growled, drawing her small frame up as tall as she could, though that was not saying very much at all. “This isn't right and you're not treating me as a person, least of all who I am! Sometimes I even wonder if you know who I am!"

Viviana scoffed.

“Oh, hush now, silly girl. Don't you see the grown-ups are talking? Does anyone have an idea for our sour cherry? We need to do the reveal show, of course, but the outfits must fit the scenes…"

“Oh!" Kobe grinned, clapping her hands together. “Maybe they can have her be wheeled out and jump out of a giant cream pie! All naked, showing off her real body!"

Seb frowned and shook his head.

“With all that cream flying through the air, splattering… No, it is hardly a good photo op, not one that will preserve my equipment, at least. What about having her in a nineties outfit, crop-top and neon, but everything's cut out to make sure her body is on show? She must sing, of course, but who knows if even her voice is going to be the same after all those hiccups the doctor recorded…"

Viviana nodded along while Cherlyn gaped.

“Yes, that's a good point, Seb. There's lots we can do, but we must make sure, of course, that it is televised worldwide, that it hits all the major news channels after the watershed. I'd love to see the little girl in pigtails, perhaps dressed up like the brat she is. I don't think there's a skirt in wardrobe long enough to cover her fat backside though, even if there is a poofy one, like from Alice in Wonderland…"

But Cherlyn could not have that. They spoke about her as if she was not there and she snapped. She'd been holding back for so long, even though she'd protested and tried to stop them, each time, from overpowering her, but she could not stop the rage. They would not take her and use her like that – enough was enough! She'd wanted to do a show to show everyone what she was worth, but being crushed down into the dirt under their might and overpowering domination… Well, that wasn't what she'd signed up for! She hadn't signed up to be squashed to a larger woman's breasts, to be restrained and controlled, for them to tower while they pushed and prodded and pulled her and forced her to undergo humiliating physical examinations.

“You arseholes!" She screamed, her voice reaching a pitch that was painful to the ears. “You fucking idiots! What the hell do you think you're doing? You can't do this to me and I'm going to goddamn show you right now! I'm Cherlyn – not Cherry! And I don't take orders from dickheads and I'm sure as hell not going to do anything more that you think you can push me into! You're not the fucking boss of me – argh!"

She howled, for she had been stomping around before them, flailing her hands in the air, but had forgotten that her feet her bare. The broken glass, thankfully not a huge shard, sliced into the side of her foot without sinking in, bright red blood spilling, though it could have been a lot worse than it was.

That did not stop her from screeching, hopping around on one foot, trying with all her might to keep her other foot up off the ground, though that was a difficult endeavour, wobbling as if her balance too had been thrown off after so much abuse through the day so far. Gasping and choking on frantic sobs, she whimpered and made an odd, strangled, hooting sound, their peals of laughter ringing in her ears.

“Ohhh," Viviana howled, bent over, wiping tears of mirth from her eyes. “That's the best thing I've seen all week! She looks just like a monkey, all flailing and gangly, like she can't even stay up on her feet civilised, not like us! Dance for us, monkey – dance, monkey, dance!"

Kobe and Seb joined her, clapping their hands and chanting, though it was tricky for even them to chant, eyes streaming with tears, though they were merely from enjoying the show so much.

“Dance, monkey, dance! Dance, monkey, dance!"

They chanted and clapped and stomped their feet, though Cherlyn's tear-filled eyes had turned, already, to a new woman – well, not a new woman to her.

Nathalie. Her expression soured, too caught up to even be glad that the blood had stopped streaming from her foot, that it was no longer as painful, stopping quickly. Of course, it had to be perfect, pretty Nathalie, looking like a million bucks, as if she had just been professionally made up. Naturally, she was a tall, statuesque beauty with a strong tan that boasted her good health, a smile on her perfect, red lips that promised trouble.

Cherlyn's heart sank. Had Nathalie found out that she was being replaced? Well, it had been in Gossip Magazine, so who knew what was going on there, what had been said behind the scenes as to the reasoning. Cherlyn hadn't given much thought to the woman she was replacing, casting her from her mind the moment she had agreed to take on the role, yet she could never have anticipated just how far Nathalie would go to crush and humiliate the woman who had taken her spot.

Only then did Cherlyn realise how close to Nathalie Viviana was in body type and shape, as if the two of them had been cut from the same cloth. Nathalie's hair was longer and fuller, of course, much more like the hair that Cherlyn had had before, but the uncanny resemblance between them was impossible to miss, even the little mannerisms and throwaways in Viviana's voice that had reminded her of Nathalie. Or, at least, what she knew of Nathalie. They'd never been close friends, not like that… Only for what the cameras needed them to do.

“Well, well, I didn't think you'd all get on with the show so quickly without me."

Grinning widely, Nathalie clapped, pushing her sunglasses up out of her face, though she was not the kind of woman who would ever have had to hide her eyes in any way. She was too gorgeous, her lashes thick and full, to do that.

“You guys have done a fan-tastic job," she said, emphasising the syllables, though she ran the latter two together as if they were one. “I didn't think you'd get her like this so quickly! But this is a much better look on you, Cherry, especially if you're going to be the silly girl to take my place. I just didn't expect them to turn you all the way down into some kind of alien… Or maybe a chimp. You were dancing about like a monkey that someone had trained for a circus!"

Viviana laughed and waved her hand, though she blushed at the compliment.

“Oh, Nathalie, don't you worry… I had far, far more to work with than I could ever have imagined! Did you see how flat her feet are? I mean, her flat chest is already obvious, isn't it, you can't miss it…but there is a birthmark here and another stretch mark on her hip… There's so much we can accentuate!"

Cherlyn rushed hurriedly, although it was too late already, to cover herself up, though Kobe grabbed her by the shoulders, turning her for their attention, once again. They showed off her body to Nathalie, though there was not much left of her at all to be shown off, her saggy bits and loose bits of skin all on show, as if it had been a crime for Cherlyn to cover up in the first place.

“And the hair… Look how thin and wispy it is! She was never going to surpass you anyway, Nathalie, it's going to be a sure win to get you back."

Nathalie smiled, though the light of it did not reach her eyes, cold and unfeeling as she looked over Cherlyn's naked body with a distinct sense of dispassion. It was quite as if Cherlyn had never registered on her radar before, not when she had been nothing to her, nothing of a threat, just a stupid woman that she had had to deal with from time to time.

But, at least for them, the time had well enough come to take Cherlyn down a peg or two or three… Brats didn't always get their way, regardless of what Cherlyn thought about her own attitude. But that was no longer for Cherlyn to decide.

Cherlyn took a half-step back, jaw dropping, blood roaring in her ears, heart pounding, its dull thud filling her senses. Although she covered what little was left of her modesty, she panted through an open mouth, not getting enough air into her lungs, stress getting the better of her, heaving and trying to calm herself, though it was all becoming clear.

Nathalie… She was behind it, or that and her cronies were, all of them, they were all trying to humiliate her. They were all trying to make her look bad, as if she was dull and incompetent and most certainly nowhere near enough as groomed as she usually was! She tried to say something, but all that came from her lips was a strangled kind of gargle, every head there turning inquisitively towards her. But they were not interested in what she had to say. All she had to do was to be there, to play her humiliating part to the very end.

“I can't believe your husband is okay with you looking like that," Nathalie scoffed cruelly, pushing her glasses back into place as if she could not stand the blaring glare of Cherlyn's too pale skin for a single moment longer. “You look like a drowned rat, something that has just been dragged up from the sewers. I wouldn't let you in my house looking like that – and your husband is the one that has to sleep with you too? Maybe I should drop him a line sometime, hm? Poor guy probably needs a good night, if you know what I mean…"

Cherlyn growled, balling her hands up into fists, though she was not brave enough to advance, cautious of her foot, despite the racing of her heartbeat.

“You'll stay away from him if you know what's good for you, whore…"

“Ooooh, so she does have a voice. Fancy that!"

Nathalie threw her head back and laughed in a flash of perfect white teeth.

“Shame for you then, Cherry, that the man is no longer yours. Isn't that right, Viviana?"

Viviana nodded, having already slid Cherlyn's rings onto her own fingers – just for safekeeping, of course. Those would go to the mastermind behind everything, taking her dues and her prize from Cherlyn at the crux of it all.

“Yes! She's already totally unmarried, all official and everything. Nothing to worry about there."

Sliding the rings off her fingers, she made a flourish of the moment, letting the light catch them, Cherlyn's eyes following them the whole way as if they could not be ripped away. Before Cherlyn's eyes, her prized, treasured rings were tossed to Nathalie, flashing through the air, though Cherlyn hesitated for just a moment, her hands on her breasts, not wanting to uncover them.

Yet she had to, had to try, especially as Nathalie caught them in her hands, smirking widely, a flash of triumph in her eyes that could not be concealed even by her dark shades.

“You bitch!"

Cherlyn was the only one there using such foul language but it was not as if she needed any introduction either as she launched herself at Nathalie with fury in her eyes. Her husband? Her rings? No, no, no, she was stopping their sick game right that moment, the show be damned! Fuck the show – it wasn't worth it, even if she'd wanted to be professional, to once again show that she was so much better than them all!

Little did Cherlyn know that it was her warped sense of twisted reasoning that had gotten her into such a situation in the first place. She had brought about her downfall for treating those around her so badly, though it was not as if her short temper and quick way with words had gotten her anywhere anyway. She could try and take her top position again, clawing at Nathalie while the other woman rolled her eyes and stepped to the side, but Cherlyn should have known that it was all a losing game for her in the end.

And she had already lost, as Cherlyn and as Cherry.

As cool as one might have liked, Nathalie slipped out of her mules, not needing the extra height of heels, spinning onto her right leg and snapping her left up in a perfect karate kick that slammed her bare foot straight up into Cherlyn's face.

“Knockout! Woo-hoo!"

Cherlyn didn't know who was clapping and cheering as she collapsed to the ground, though it was most likely all of them, whooping and hollering for her demise. For as much as she had fought through, there was nothing she could do against their overpowering, domineering force. For she was small, nothing more than a hobbit to them, weak and worthless, as much as she had tried not to be.

She couldn't escape who she was, despite everything.

Knocked out, she sprawled on the floor, though she was no less helpless to their whims then than she was normally.

*

Cherlyn woke slowly, groggily, as if she was swimming up from deep, deep underwater.

“Urrrrrgggghhhh…"

She groaned, blinking, though the room around her came into focus too slowly, as a mirror, lit up with makeup lights, defined itself before her. The makeup chair swivelled, but the rest of the room around her, wherever she was, was dark, her heart pounding in panic, her face hurting where she had been struck.

“What…"

She blinked, peering at the mirror, gripping the arms of the chair. But that didn't make sense, not at all, for the woman in the mirror was not her, not even her with her extensions and everything ripped away from her. But the woman in the mirror moved right along with her as if she was mimicking her. Was it a joke?

Worry stirred in the pit of her stomach, a clawing, twisting roll of snakes.

No…

_ _

“Like your new look, Cherry? We worked hard on it for you!"

Approaching from either side, Viviana and Kobe flanked her, penning her into the makeup chair, their tits in her face, though neither seemed to care about the proximity. It was Cherlyn that pulled away from them, gasping, eyes wide, staring right at the mirror as if she had seen a ghost.

Viviana leaned over her, a looming presence, but she was not helped at all by Nathalie Kobe on the other side. It might have had more of an effect if Nathalie had been there too, but perhaps it was wise for her to stay a little further back from the scene of her crime.

“Your hair… Oh, that lank stuff was sooooo last season, girl," Viviana said, dragging out her vowels as if she was mocking someone. “This is what class is, right? Here, you've got a nice, tight perm of your ginger curls, though there was nothing we could really do about the colour, it is better with your weak, pale skin."

“No…" Cherlyn whispered, unable to drag her eyes away. “No… What have you… What have you done to me?"

But they ignored her, talking as if to one another, as if they were following a script that, frankly, was far more interesting to them than anything that Cherlyn would ever have to say.

“So, your ears stick out so much more nicely with the sides of your head shaved! I mean, really, did you think that you could hide these giant monkey ears forever?" Viviana scoffed, flipping her hand dismissively. “This isn't something you can just cover up, Cherry, it was all going to come out eventually. You brought this on yourself."

They were not shy about touching her while they talked about her, fingers running over her face, prodding the fat of her cheeks as she gasped, Cherlyn's head still throbbing. After being knocked out, it was harder than even she could have imagined coming back to her senses.

“Your hairline… It's not hard to make you even less attractive, but we've moved it back an inch, just for added effect, you know, so that everyone knows what a chimp you are with a huge, wide forehead. Five fingers wasn't going to cut it, you know!"

Kobe laughed openly, eyes glittering with cruelty.

“You don't have to worry about your hair coming back either… While you were out for the count, we gave you a free of charge electrolysis treatment! That's never coming back! Of course, the eyelashes and the eyebrows…"

“Yes, those too," Viviana said with relish, fingers tracing the lines of her eyebrows – or where Cherlyn's eyebrows would have been. “Tattooed on, so much better, looks so much cheaper and whorish the way we've done it – wouldn't you agree? Of course, you don't need eyelashes, not that you had any nice ones to begin with, Cherry. We've just revealed everything about you that you really are."

Cherlyn gaped in horror at the mirror, her eyebrows tattooed in a sharply pointed shape that made her look, horrifically, as if she was always surprised, though that her jaw was dropped did not help the effect in the slightest. She rubbed at them frantically as Kobe giggled, but, of course, ink set into her skin was never going to come off so easily.

“Oh, and these fillers… They made your cheeks horrible! So sharp and defined! Now we can see the fat in there, now that the fillers are dissolved! And the glorious hook of your nose, Cherry! Skinny lips… You didn't need the fillers there either, not when you look so much better like this!"

Kobe's voice dripped with derision, Cherlyn practically on the edge of sobbing, though there was a part of her that would never cry in front of them, not even after everything.

A special light was turned on above her, revealing how her skin was more freckled than ever, paler than ever, even dried out too, as if it was flaking off in places. She whimpered, fingers brushing her chin, so aged, so much older looking than she had been.

“I mean," Kobe waved a hand, “we only wanted to give you more freckles, but the light treatment, well, accidents happen, Cherry, you do understand. It put a good twenty years on you at least! Maybe even twenty-five! Everyone will think you're so much older than you are now!"

She gulped, shaking her head, ears ringing, the roar of her blood pulsing with every heartbeat.

No, no, no… It could not be…

But it was. Everything was so much worse than she could have dreamed, even in her most horrible of dreams.

Cherlyn groaned swallowing, looking down at her stomach. It was thick and blubbery, as if layers upon layers had been pushed onto her. Even when she poked it, the fat wobbled. She'd never looked like that…had she?

“Of course, we had to reference your photo quite closely, the one from wayyy back when you were discovered," Kobe chirped with a grin. “I mean, with all that chub on you, those thick thunder thighs, your flabby belly… We had to do a lot of work there! Oh, it did have a weird effect on your cute little “innie" belly button… But it looks so much better on you like this, Cherry!"

Kobe laughed and poked at her fat, wobbly belly, showing Cherlyn exactly how her belly button, which had been an “innie", as Kobe had said, had become an “outie" instead. It was misshapen, weirdly so, and disfigured, as if was a thumb sticking out of her belly, even though it was not that. Fat and lumpy, it was the cherry on top of the horrible, vile, ugly cake that her body had become, tears welling up in Cherlyn's eyes, despite all the defiance and fire she had held earlier.

“That just kind of happened when we pumped all that fat back into your stomach, Cherry," Kobe said with vicious glee, jiggling her stomach and making the “outie" belly button waggle. “Everyone said you had lipo anyway, we're just reverting you back to your natural state…"

Cherlyn's lips parted, a low groan slipping free, though she would not have called it a whimper.

“I… I can't believe…"

She tried to talk, but her voice wasn't the same, her words slurring as if she was drunk and slurring. Her mouth didn't feel right either as she moved her tongue around it, tipping towards the mirror to look at her teeth.

They were wrong…but familiar too?

Viviana grinned, holding up a photo of Cherlyn at eighteen, just discovered and with terribly different teeth. Back then, she'd had far from a perfect smile, bucktoothed, crooked, gappy, even with an underbite that had caused her trouble – and they'd restored everything back to how it was.

Cherlyn gasped, clawing at her face as if she could change it all back, but, of course, that was not possible. That would never be possible.

“As we wanted to show everyone just who the real you was, we wanted to put your teeth back to the way they were! Of course, that would take way too long and be far too much expense for you, so the dentist just yanked them all out and made you a set of dentures. Don't they look so much better? Well, for us, that is!"

Viviana grabbed at her mouth, fingers sliding inside to yank the dentures out in a spray of spittle, Cherlyn lunging after them. Yet her hands flew back up to her face, feeling hollow and empty, her mouth gummy as her tongue instinctively wanted to run over the now bare gums, all where teeth had been before.

Smirking, Kobe pressed against her, holding her in place with an arm while squeezing her finger into her mouth.

“Mmm, look how sensitive you are now… No teeth, gummy and vile… I think that's a good show of your personality, Cherry!"

She ran her finger around Chery's helpless mouth, fingering her tongue and rubbing the gums until Cherlyn yanked back, though she could not keep the horror from flowing through her, an icy chill. Although Viviana and Kobe looked exceptionally pleased with how everything had gone, she half-collapsed before them, words fumbling from her mouth.

“Pleath, giveth meeth," she tried, though she could not talk without teeth, without the dentures, “nnnghhh yoooooo ahhhhhh!"

“I can't give them back to you until you ask nicely, Cherry!" Viviana goaded her. “So, ask!"

But Cherlyn couldn't, eyes watering, holding back her tears while she tried and tried, slurring words until the hiccups came back, causing her to jolt with every one. Of course, Viviana and Kobe only laughed, a sick twist in her stomach.

Slowly, Cherlyn got to her feet, turning away from them, though the outfit on the rack beside her didn't make her feel any better. A training bra with two big, fat red cherries over each nipple hung there, “in training" written across it. It was too big on her, even then, showing off her flat chest, how tiny her tits were, how one practically needed a magnifying glass to see anything.

She reeled – but it was too late for that, too late for her to turn her rage and fear into fleeing the show that she had wanted to do and yet no longer wanted one bit of. For it was not just the humiliating training bra that they wrestled her into, shoved her arms into the straps, but mittens onto her hands, no more on her top half.

She wailed, thrashing against them, but a diaper was yanked up over her backside, huge and oversized, an adult one meant for someone much bigger than her. Cherlyn begged and pleaded and even tried to snatch her dentures back at the very least, but it all did her no good at all as they squeaked and forced a tight-fitting pair of rubber pants up over her, the diaper bulging through them and sticking out the top.

There was something written on the back of the rubber pants…but Cherlyn didn't get the chance to see it before the production assistant arrived, a clipboard in her hand.

“It's time for Cherry to go on, is everything set – what on earth? No! Wait… Who is this, this can't be…"

Horrified, the production assistant stepping in closer, her face comically slack-jawed at the monstrous wreck of a woman that the bratty adult had been stripped down into, hiccupping and coughing, gummy and helpless. Yet she laughed and shook her head, stepping back while Viviana and Kobe bent double, splitting their sides with peals of hilarious, raucous, cruel laughter.

“Oh my god, I can't believe that's her! I thought she was a goblin out of one of those silly wizard films! What with the nose and the wrinkles…" The assistant covered her mouth, but her hilarity was obvious behind it.

Cherlyn swallowed hard, hiccupping through the humiliation. Somehow, that had cut her deeper than anything else, laughter surrounding her, echoing, turning her sick to her stomach. It was never something she'd liked, being laughed at. All as if she was nothing, nothing at all, though they didn't know what she had gone through to get where she was.

Maybe things would have been different if she had treated people in her life more nicely, not been such a hot-tempered brat…but it was far too late to go back on anything.

The assistant left before she lost her cool completely, though they could still hear her outside the door.

“Oh my god," she exclaimed, evidently talking to a colleague outside the door. “You won't believe what the new judge looks like, it's like something out of a creepy film! And she has “uh-oh" written on the back of these weird plastic pants, like a child! What the hell is this freak on?"

“No… You can't be serious!"

“But I am! She's all wrinkling and with this big ol' hook-nose, her ears sticking out… She looks like a dirty elf! Like she's about to go on as an extra or something, not the goddamn host!"

They laughed and laughed and Cherlyn quailed, stepping back, though Viviana was far from done with her. Dropping her dentures into a glass of water, the woman in control smirked evilly, raising an eyebrow.

“Come on, Cherry, everyone's waiting for you. Grandma can have her false teeth back later, hm?"

Pushing Cherlyn's head down, Kobe fastened an old-fashioned style bonnet on her head, bright blue and impossible to miss, like something a baby would have worn for protection in the crib. Shaking her head and mumbling incoherently, her very speech stripped from her, she whirled, seeking escape, yet only found a pacifier, fat and slick already, shoved into her mouth, popping between her lips.

“Oh, good!" Viviana crowed. “I didn't think that would fit in your fat gob, but we've all been surprised now, haven't we, Cherry? Here you go, baby Cherry, here's your rattle, don't forget to shake it nice and loudly for everyone now!"

A pink and blue rattle was shoved into her hand, Cherlyn gripping it automatically, though it was not something to root her in the moment, not something at all that was going to help her get through everything. She could cling and shake it, her hand trembling, but it didn't do anything for her, her eyes plaintively behind her, not even able to make any sounds at all that said that she didn't want to go where it was that they were taking her, no, certainly not, no.

“Come on, Cherry!"

Kobe spanked her diapered backside repeatedly, slapping her with a crinkle of fabric rustling, forcing her out of the room as she tried to push back, but the booties that she'd been forced into made a strange noise too. It was almost like a squeaking sound? The softness inside could have been comforting, yet they were more difficult than ever to walk in with her flat feet, eyes wide and breath catching, hitching in her throat as she hiccupped and bubbled around the pacifier in her mouth.

No… No, she couldn't go, but Kobe was behind her, forcing her forward even as she tried to shake her head, to turn back, the rubber pants restricting her movement. Discreetly, trying to make herself ever so slightly more presentable, she tried to tuck the diaper down into them, though it was to no avail.

The curtain bloomed before her, the crowd on the other side, cameras everywhere, lights flashing, all waiting for her. Two personal assistants stood on either side of her, making sure that she didn't back out, though they had to keep grabbing her arms and pulling her back into place, smirking and rolling their eyes as if they were in on the game. Maybe they hadn't wanted Nathalie to be kicked off as presenter too? Who was to say?

“Aha! Wait!"

Viviana burst in with a flourish, a demented grin that, after everything that Cherlyn had been through, suited her.

“She can't go on stage like that! Hang on!"

With a flash of her hand whipping out, with her perfectly, meticulously manicured nails, she whipped off the training bra with the two cherries on it, holding it aloft like a prize.

“No one will recognise those as breasts! Little bee stings on your flat tits!"

The assistants giggled and nodded, agreeing with her as all three women acknowledged her bee stings of nipples. They'd always been tiny, so small and insignificant, dwarfed by all the hugely padded bras that Cherlyn had had to wear, all to make herself look like the public image she had presented to the world.

To stop her from covering herself up again, before she went on stage, Cherlyn was forced to hold a microphone, her fingers curled around it tightly, heart pounding. No, no, no… No, that could not be her life, things could not have gone so very wrong, surely not… But she didn't know what else to think as she stood there before the curtain, wondering if it was all some dreadfully humiliating dream that she would wake up from.

But nothing would stop her skin crawling with sickly, humiliating heat, not as the announcer on stage spoke up.

“And now… I am pleased to introduce our newest judge… Cherry!"

Shoving her heeled boot onto Cherlyn's arse, Viviana violently kicked her out on stage before Cherlyn had a chance to run, stumbling over her crazy booties, the slippery, soft fabric sliding everywhere as she struggled to right herself.

And then the spotlight was on her, everyone staring, Cherlyn half-bent over, frozen in place. It took a moment for the audience to realise exactly what it was that they were looking at, but the laughter, when it came, simply didn't stop. It bathed her from all sides as the crowd held up their phones and recorded her in any way that best suited them, white smiles flashing in laughter.

They thought it was all a joke, that she was the joke – maybe Cherlyn had always been the joke. They laughed and pointed and howled until tears streamed down their faces, a mass of writhing hysteria – and she was the butt of the joke, always was. She stood slowly, straightening her back, her tits bare and on display, her body modified, but they didn't know that, they thought that it was her, all her, “made down" rather than “up" into someone and something horrendous, someone that didn't look like they would have been out in public, let alone on stage. The diaper crinkled and she heaved and hiccupped, sobs bubbling up even as she tried to push them down.

Yet the worst of it, the absolute worst, came with her husband in the front row as she sucked helplessly on the pacifier with her gummy mouth. For her husband, Connor, was right there in the front row, face red with humiliation.

She tried to say his name, but all that came out was a muffled gargle as Connor sank lower and lower in his seat, shame overcoming him. While the crowd laughed at her, he hid from the world, striving to show everyone that he was not with her.

Despair swirled through her, her fight gone, at least for the moment, humiliation drowning her, dragging her down and down and down into the pit.

In trying to be Cherlyn, all she had done was become Cherry.

*

Sitting at home, comfortable on the sofa, Nathalie smirked down at her iPad, an article on the screen.

Cherry makes her grand debut as a judge – but can a baby really judge the nation of singers?

_ _

“Indeed, she cannot… No one can replace me."

Cherry's insane introduction to the USA had gone off without a hitch and the smile was still on Nathalie's face as she answered her phone to a number that she recognised – even if she had deleted the contact from her phone a few weeks ago. She'd known they would come crawling back to her sooner or later, it had only been a matter of time.

“Hello, Stan, I thought you might give me a call," she said, brushing her fingers through her hair, smile widening. “Yes… Yes, such a shame, such a debacle… She was a hot mess, wasn't she? Oh, well… Are you sure you don't want to give Cherry another chance? It could have been a bad first day, poor thing, I wouldn't want… Well, if you're sure, Stan, I'd be pleased to step back into my role. It'll be an honour to work with my team again."

Of course, all had gone to plan – how could it not have? Her smile curved up wickedly as she hung up, turning back to her iPad to flick over into a folder containing her personal videos.

She wouldn't have let Cherry go through things, after all, without taking plenty to blackmail and humiliate her, though there was only so much blackmail that could be done when the entirety of the world, pretty much, had already seen Cherry in her crudest of presentations. Her husband had already formally left her, even if they had already been technically unmarried due to their intervention. It was much better for him, truth be told, and she had a date set up with Connor for the following weekend. He'd have a much better time with her than he ever would have with Cherry.

In the first video she clicked onto, Cherry was surrounded by the women – those that had helped her with her plans and more, so many more of her loyal co-workers and assistants from her team. Oh, they had been too pleased to help her work through the myriad of Amazon Instant boxes scattered across the floor, dressing Cherry up in crazy costumes and makeup after her “coming down" from glory had been announced, but there was too much fun to be had there. She would have been sorely amiss if she had not taken advantage of more than a little of it for herself.

Cherry sat in a chair while the women crowded around her flat feet, appearing large from the camera angle, obnoxiously so. They grabbed her toes as they chanted, wiggling and yanking them while Cherry tried to wrench her feet back. Her makeup was done, if one could call it that, but as if a five-year-old had applied it, bright red cheeks and smeared mascara, along with thick, bright pink lips.

“Eenie, meenie, minie, mo!" They chanted, the old (rather racist) children's rhyme, although it had been adapted to better fit Cherry. “Catch a monkey by their toe!"

She pulled back, lips parting, revealing that she wasn't wearing her dentures, apparently fearful of what would happen at the end of the rhyme. Yet as the final words were spoken, the women leapt back, all as a giant bucket of water was dumped over her. The childish, frilly dress that Cherry had been wearing slicked down to her body, revealing everything, water splashing everywhere, her makeup running as she tried to rub water out of her eyes.

Her squeals and garbled screeches were the perfect music that Nathalie had so sorely needed to hear from the strung-up brat.

Bored of that video, Nathalie clicked onto another where Cherry was shown diapered and locked into a high chair. Ah, yes, that had been an interesting one, where Cherry had pulled back a little more fight in her, though it was hard for her to fight at all, bless her, when they all loomed as they did. It was easy to look down on the hobbit when she was as short as she was, dressed in a baby onesie that, of course, had been sized up for an adult to wear. Nathalie grinned. Well, Cherry was a rather small size, so it had been an easy one to have custom-ordered rather quickly. If you knew the right people and had the right influence, you could get anything done.

In the highchair, Cherry shook her head violently, food of all kinds smeared over her face – some of it baby food, though the camera was zoomed in so that only Cherry and the disembodied hands of those feeding her could be seen. Hands holding spoons came out of nowhere, the spoons piled high with all kinds of food, from sloppy egg mayonnaise to ketchup and actual baby food and mashed potato. It added to the mess all over her and the table before her as she flailed and tried to push it away, though they did manage to get some into the gaping, gummy hole of her mouth.

“Babies can't have solid food!" Someone sung, pressing in behind her, their dark skin suggesting that the voice came from Lorel. “Open up, baby Cherry, open up! Open up for the explorer to climb into the cave!"

Cherry shook her head violently, beet red, refusing it even as the woman's breasts squished on either side of her head, her hair so thin that, by that point, she appeared to be almost bald. She didn't want to eat anymore, clearly, but the women weren't about to take no for an answer.

To the side, a bottle of hot sauce opened out over one of the spoons, the women cooing and baby talking to her. The camera zoomed out to show Kobe down on her knees at her feet, giggling, a nutcracker poised over Cherry's bare toes. At just the right moment, the hot sauce spoon held up before Cherry, she snapped it shut over her smallest toe, the most painful of them all, Cherry's mouth flying open as she wailed.

Yet it was not one spoon but several that were shoved into her open mouth, the hot sauce liberally coating her tongue, even as she fought and squirmed, eyes streaming. Someone pinched her cheek viciously, forcing her to open her mouth again, fingers hooked into the corners of her lips to force them open for her feeding, despite her wishes.

Nathalie laughed, delighting in the memories of the brattish woman's debasement. Oh, it had been so good to take her down all the pegs that she should never have climbed! Not looking like that, not acting as she had… She had brought it on herself, ultimately, stealing her spot from her.

Another video, a shorter one that time, showed how Cherry had been locked into a baby walker, the kind of thing where the legs dangled but they were supported enough that they would not fall if they could not walk on their own yet. The contraption beeped and played a childish tune, some kind of singsong that might have amused a baby learning to walk for the first time, Cherry screaming and garbling, though she had her dentures in. They didn't help her slurred, gargled speech all that much though, for she had them out of her mouth by that point so much that she could hardly talk with them in: just another way that they had stripped her posh humanity from her.

Someone dangled one of her old outfits, sparkling and prim in a figure-hugging dress, before her, letting her fat legs wobble and chase them all over a bare room that looked like it could have been an empty studio.

“Chase us, baby Cherry, chase us! Aw, the baby thinks the pretty clothes are for her!"

Bright lights flashed all around the walker as she tried to catch up, but her legs wouldn't work quickly enough, her range of motion as she bounced there, still diapered, limited, bare otherwise. She didn't need to wear anything else, not when she was under their control. Lorel and Lafawna found it the most entertaining, slapping their thighs as they used their thicker, more powerful bodies and especially their chests to coral the baby walker and Cherry inside it.

“Hi-yah!"

Viviana appeared, kicking the baby walker so that Cherry skidded and whirled around and around, flung to the other side of the room as she squealed and wailed, kicking and flailing. But no matter what she did, she couldn't find any purchase with her feet, forced to rotate until the walker came to a natural stop, the silly tune still playing and chirping away. Viviana put her hands on her hips, scoffing and wagging a dismissive finger while the others collapsed in laughter.

“Goblins don't wear pretty clothes! You're never going to get to wear anything like that ever again, Cherry!"

Nathalie smirked, clicking onto another video, that one of Cherry in a ridiculous swimming costume, the cut of it way too high up over hips to be flattering, purple and glittery, even with odd pink ruffles placed in random locations. It didn't fit at all, but did a great job of showing off her flat chest and “nothing there" backside, how her body was back to its natural state – with a few enhancements, of course, like her flabby stomach and thicker thighs.

She leapt about like a bug not wanting to touch the ground on a dance machine, though the supports had been removed as she missed every step, flailing wildly. In the arcade-like room, Nathalie and her team screamed at her, leaping up and down with their fists pumping the air.

“Left step!"

“Right, right – jump!"

“Catch up, Cherry!"

“Come on, Cherry!"

“You're not winning, Cherry!"

But they kept going and going as she turned red in the face, whimpering, though her cries were not caught by the microphone, not as she fell further and further behind in the game. Of course, it had been set to “SUPER HARD" mode, the highest level possible, and no one that didn't play competitively could have gotten it, but every mistake came with a punishment.

“Yowch!"

She screamed, leaping, her feet shocked, not wanting to touch the machine as her eyes watered, heaving and panting, for the electric shock that had jolted into her was only the first of many. Every time she made a mistake, stumbling, fumbling clumsily over her own feet, it shocked her, the electrical pulse intensifying until she was sweating furiously, jaw hanging open to pant.

With no other option than what they had given her, she danced like the monkey she had become for them, squealing and shrieking with pain whenever the shocks came, more and more.

In another video, the final one for the moment, Cherry hunched over in a playpen, dressed in a pink onesie with purple unicorns all over it. The stars between the unicorns lit up with tiny LEDs, hardly the sort of thing that Cherry would ever have chosen to wear before. The playpen was barely large enough for her, plastic blocks and soft toys around her feet, whimpering and rocking back and forth. Of course, Cherry was not alone with Nathalie, Kobe, Lorel and Lafawna leaning over her. Even then, they looked so much taller than her, overpowering, dominating, yet all without even trying.

“Oh no… Oh no!" Kobe grinned widely. “The egg must have bound her up!"

“Don't worry, she can't resist forever," Dr Amir said confidently, one hand on her hip as if she was in complete control of the situation. “She'll have to let it out sooner or later. She can't resist…"

Cherry tried though, oh, how she tried… She went red in the face and shook her head over and over again, trying to stay right where she was, but the pressure was building and building, something that could not be held back, not as she wanted it to be.

Flipping open the bottom section of her onesie, something that was often built into onesies for much younger children so that they could more easily have their diapers changed, everyone laughed as she had to bear down, for the strain in Cherry's stomach had to be allowed out.

Cherry balled up her hands, curling her toes practically into fists, obviously grinding her teeth, but she was forced through, straining, striving, fighting a losing battle. They sang to her, encouraging her like a child, goading her on, but even Cherry had to know that there was nothing more she could do. Truly, the fight in her would have been impressive, if it hadn't proven to be as annoying to Nathalie throughout the process of her humiliation.

“Lay an egg, Sally hen, lay an egg, Sally hen," they sang. “Lay an egg, Sally hen, and into the hen house you gooooo!"

She strained and strained and shook her head, but Cherry could not do it. With a massively lewd squelch and ripple of breaking wind, she “birthed" a huge, hard poo that landed with a solid “plop" on the playmat under her. It was quick, but there was another log to add to the first as she reeled in disgust, her eyes shooting open in disgust.

“Yay, well done, Cherry! Baby did a poo!"

They bellowed and slapped their thighs with laughter around her, cheering and clapping their hands, but it surely did not feel like anything of a celebration to Cherry, slumping forward with her forehead against the side of the playpen. She slumped down, curling up there, broken, sweating and humiliated as the comments from the women filled the air and her ears.

“Ugh! The baby is so gross!"

“Things like that don't know how to be civilised!"

“Maybe little hen needs to be taught how to clean herself up!"

Finally satisfied, Nathalie stopped the video. It was enough, at least for the moment. Heading onto Cherry's husband's – oh, ex-husband's – Instagram page, she started to type him a message, her smile softening, becoming something a little more natural to her. The deed was done and she didn't have to concern herself at all with maintaining her position and reputation, not when Cherry had already shattered her own, all so very easily.

Putting her feet up, she twitched the toe holding Cherry's rings, both now belonging to her, for it was not as if Cherry would have ever done anything good with them anyway. She didn't deserve such fineries, not with how she had looked down on everyone around her, and Nathalie's status and position spoke for itself with how her team had rallied for her. They had all done it because they loved her and hated Cherry, all that that brat of a woman stood for. But she wasn't going to be an issue anymore.

On her left foot, the rings glinted, on the long, slender, second toe, right where they belonged. She'd make things right with Connor, surely, when the time was right. Until then, Cherlyn had become Cherry and there never again would be any going back to stardom for her.

The brat had finally found her rightful place in the world.