Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience. Tyla Quinn and the Striparazzi She was the pop star of the moment. Granted, pop star fame was at it's height only briefly but Tyla Quinn's first big hit was at the top of the charts. She was only twenty, about the same age as so many other princesses of safe, pasteurized girl pop. She had some qualities to her look though that set her apart. Several articles had described her as having a sultry sex appeal that somehow didn't clash with her cutesy sweet young girl image. Her image was defined by the same youthful fashion sense as was typical but she made a point of changing her hair color frequently. She had had blonde hair, light brown, jet black, a few shades of red and even several odd colors like blue and green. Most recently she had been seen with her shocking pink tresses. Even her eyebrows matched this color. She always made certain to dye her eyebrows as well and that led to some debate. What was her real hair color? No one could tell. She had been changing her hair color since junior high, so there wasn't any help from pre-fame photos either. Along with being a good gimmick, the changing hair color also provided her with anonymity when she went out. All she had to do, especially with an odd color like pink, was put on a wig and some big sunglasses and no one out in the world recognized her. She didn't need or want the celebrity entourage so this special privacy came in handy. On this particular day though, Tyla's demanding, high-maintenance personality would do her harm. A disgruntled employee, overhearing her plan to leave the house unattended, made several calls to papparazzi photographers who were only too happy to get some candid shots of the young star in public. Out shopping, just enjoying a day without the pressures of public attention, it took her some time to start noticing that there were a handful of shady looking men hanging out nearby wherever she went. Disguised as she was, she was no good to them. It was clear that no photos like that would sell, so one of the more audacious and ambitious of the camera men handed a twenty dollar bill to a kid in exchange for pulling her wig off. Tyla was about ready to decide that she should make her way back to her car when it happened. Without warning, her brunette wig was snatched off, taking her hat with it. There she was, pink haired, shocked and revealed. In a moment cameras were taking pictures from all sides. The cameras closed in from all sides and someone reached forward to grab the dark glasses of her face for a better view. "HEY!" She lashed out to try to get them back, but missed. That camera man saw that she was determined though, and he backed away then started to move quickly as she rushed after him. He hopped over a small planter to get away from her and she rather foolishly tried to follow. She didn't leap quite as gracefully though and she ended up falling forward over the obstruction. She was bent over ludicrously, holding herself up with her hands, feet suspended off the ground. The photographers were delighted with this view. She was wearing a thong and her skirt had flipped up high enough to expose half of her ass. Struggling to get back to her feet, she was unaware of her exposure. She heard several comments, "Damn!" "Look at that!" "Incredible!" And she was. Her pert little ass was wonderful. One of the papparazzi commented, "What's that tattoo say?" Hearing that, Tyla felt an immediate burn of embarrassment. She only had one tattoo and it was on her left cheek where not many people should get to see it. Suddenly empowered by her desperation, she pushed herself back over the planter and onto her feet, but she knew that they had photos that she would regret forever. The camera men had closed in, clicking away. One of them, unsatisfied with the shots they had of her ass, was overcome by the moment and lifted the back of her skirt to see her nice little tattooed butt again. Pictures clicked of her derriere and the heart tattoo on it. Along with the heart was a banner with lettering. One of the papparizi, laughing, read it aloud, "Kiss me here!" Others were commenting as well, "Great shot!" "Great ass!" "Keep that skirt up!!" "Don't let her cover up!" "STOP!" She shouted. "Let go!! You can't do this!!!" But they wouldn't stop. Tyla was pulling at her skirt but now two men had it held up. One of them let go, only to be replaced by another, refusing to let her keep any modesty. Her nice, round little cheeks were the object of photo after photo. She tried to cover and to get away but she could manage neither. Finally, she started to pull away but this only inspired them to hold her in place by her skirt. With two men tugging at her and herself pulling away, it started to tear. "OH NO!" It was too late. Hearing the rips of the fabric, the papparizi, instead of letting go, started pulling her skirt in opposite directions until it was torn completely off of her. She glared at the cameras that took picture after picture of her lovely legs and wonderful, tattooed butt. That hateful expression turned to worry then to supreme embarrassment. With quivering lips and frantic eyes, she struggled to push her way past the papparazzi. That would have been the end of the event if it weren't for the sudden thought in one cameraman's mind. "Hey", he shouted, seeing the unique opportunity for a special story and valuable photos, "What IS her real hair color?" "What?," she cried desperately. She could see the intent and she tried to escape but the sleazy photo hounds closed in for their moment of discovery. Someone grabbed the side of her thong and started to pull it down. She grabbed it with both hands and a panty tug of war began. Pictures kept clicking. Someone was helping pull her panties down on the other side and it took all of her panicked strength to hold the front up just enough to keep her muff covered. Pictures kept clicking. In just a few moments, four of the photographers were pulling at her underwear. They didn't pull it down. With an audible rip, the thong was torn apart leaving her bottomless. She had the fortune to hear it just before it was too late and her hand was over her privates. Even so, she was completely bottomless in public. And pictures kept clicking! She was too astounded to act immediately and the camera clowns just crowded around in a way that gave her no clear avenue of escape. "Man, look at that ass!," one of them declared. "Yeah, but we gotta see what she looks like up front!" "Someone, pull her hands away!" They were going to do it too! Tyla screamed and tried to push through them, but it was too late. Her wrists were in the grasp of men on either side of her. They pulled her arms away as her panic scream became a piercingly loud and shrill shriek. The camera men were surprised into a sudden moment of motionless wonder. She had a very nicely trimmed isosceles of fur but it didn't answer the mystery. It was as shocking pink as the hair on her head. "Wow!" "Amazing!" And the cameras started clicking away again. Tyla gave up screaming, too shocked and shamed to do anything but try to pull free. The cameras had plenty of time to get perfect shots of her beaver and her butt again and again. Some of the photographers even got right up to her for good close ups. After just a little bit, the men holding her were given the chance to get their pictures as well as another pair of picture hounds took their places holding her arms. Eventually, she was able to pull away from one grip and then, with sudden desperation and panic, she fell forward as she wrenched away from the other. Pictures clicked of her as she was on the ground and as she got to her feet. She ran off, but the cameras followed and some shots were taken as she fled. Racing down the street a number of people were surprised to see a bottomless beauty running from a pack of crazed cameramen. She got to her car, still surrounded by clicking cameras and fumbled with her keys. The photos kept up even as she got into her car and drove away. The following day, Tyla was stewing at home, feeling sick about the whole thing. She couldn't help but look at all the published photos and read all the accompanying stories. Stories with headlines like : "TYLA'S SECRET TATTOO" "OUTRAGEOUS EVEN NAKED" "POP STAR BUM : REAL OR LYPO?" "PEEP AT A POP STAR" and even "THE COLOR CHANGES EVERYWHERE". She threw a handful of papers at the wall and started blushing, even alone, at the thought of all the people everywhere seeing what she never would have shown. But overexposure is one of the perils of fame.