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Warning! This is a sexual story that contains themes, acts and words that
may be offensive to immature people. This story is ed by me,
Arthur Thomas. Do not repost, steal or put on your website without my
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The 10000$ Blowjob By Arthur G Thomas



When I saw those two girls walking the downtown bar scene, I knew right
away that they were who I was looking for tonight. Young, obviously
freshmen at the local college, and both wearing very poor clothes, they
were wondering outside the bars because they were either too young to go
in, or too poor to afford the cover prices. What I especially noticed
about them was their blatant greed. Every time someone walked by in nice
clothes or a nice car went by, their heads swiveled and a look of sheer
envy was apparent on their cute faces.

"Them," I told my chauffeur, Emily, pointing them out. She got out and
walked over to them, her hips moving delightfully under the tight black
miniskirt that was her uniform. For fun I watch the faces of the college
men she walks by. She's the sexiest woman here tonight, and I know it just
kills them that she's obviously the sextoy of some perverted rich guy. Of
course, they're right. Emily is my sextoy, but she's also perfect as a
fishhook for the desperate people I meet. Emily had long, straight blond
hair and a deep tan that just screams AllAmerican girl. Her blue eyes,
tanned legs and 38D chest hypnotizes any guy I send her after, while her
bright blue eyes, friendly smile and justusgirls attitude always ropes in
the women.

They come back with Emily, right to my limousine parked on the street.
They're giggling already, excited to have their first ride in such a luxury
vehicle. Already, I can tell I was right in my estimation of them, for the
blonde already has a smug look on her face, while her brunette friend is
practically strutting through the crowd. Yes, they appreciate wealth, but
let's see what they're willing to do for some of their own.

"Greetings gals, come right on in," I say with my friendliest smile.
"My name is Arthur Thomas."

"Wow!" the blonde says as she climbs in, trying to comprehend a car that
has seats facing each other and yet enough space to lie down between the
seats. "My name's Kari." I give her a good looking over. Her blonde hair
is in that outdated Jennifer Anniston style and lemon yellow, which almost
works for her. She was wearing a white Tshirt that demurely hid what I
guessed to be a Ccup chest. She was wearing shorts just like the rest of
the college girls this summer. What I really liked about her was her
glasses, small circle Lennon frames that made her look like a computer
student in a skin magazine.

Her friend climber in beside her, too starstruck by the leather seats to
say anything at first. The brunette's long brown hair was tied back in a
tight ponytail and with her large round glasses, she looked like a ringer
for the nerdy girl you see in porn movies. This girl was definitely the
ugly girl of the pair, about twenty pounds overweight. She wore it well,
though she tried to hide it with a big black Tshirt and jeans, terrible
clothes for this hot weather. I guessed her chest at about a fat Dcup.

"My name's Patricia," she said quietly. Of course it was.

"Hello Kari, hello Patricia, thanks for joining me," I said. I poured
myself a glass of champagne, not offering them any yet. I chatted a little
with them, reaffirming the cover story Emily gave them. I won't bore you
by repeating it here. In essence, I was playing the part of a wealthy
outoftowner that was lonely, but too paranoid to go into bars for
company. Emily assured them that I merely wanted someone to talk to, and
that they could get out of the car at anytime. It sounds transparent, but
you would be amazed what girls will swallow for a chance to ride in a limo.

Emily drove us around, and I let the girls roll down the sunroof so they
could stand and see the crowds. More importantly, the crowds could see
them. My two new friends were thrilled to wave at people, basking in the
looks of envy and greed that the crowd gave them. I just stayed in my
seat, watching their two asses move in front of me. Kari's ass was flat as
a board, while Patricia's was curved and rounded like a grapefruit.

When they were tired of waving, I offered them glasses of the champagne
for them to enjoy while they sit. They both drank down the strong liquor,
relishing the rare luxury. As Emily kept the car moving through a route
that went through the downtown streets, the girls told me their story with
the slightest of prompts from me. The girls were friends from High School
who were attending college on scholarships. Money was tight for them, as
their parents believed that their girls should get part time jobs if they
wanted spending money. Kari thought this was terribly unfair, and after a
few glasses of champagne, Patricia agreed with her loudly. Patricia
desperately wanted a computer and she couldn't believe her parents wouldn't
just give her one.

"Money is NEVER given away," I gently admonished. "It must be earned,
or traded. Only fools just give money away."

"Oh yeah," Kari snapped. "You don't look much older than us, how did
you get your money?"

I smiled, wondering if I should tell him I really earned my money.
Obviously, if I told them how I had slit my parents' throats and then slit
my own to get the suspicion off of me, they would have leaped from the
limo. It was hard work to murder my parents and get away with it,
inheriting a multimillion dollar company, and I was proud of it, but once
again I had to lie.

"My parents were murdered, and I was nearly killed too," I said, pulling
down my collar so that they could see my neck scars. "I earned that money
by losing my parents."

Their eyes bulged behind their glasses, so I backed off a bit. I poured
them some more champagne, which they drank like little guppies. We moved
the conversation to happier thoughts, like what kind of a computer Patricia
would buy if she was wealthy, or how many new outfits would Kari buy if she
had money. I kept them talking like this for a good amount of time, till I
had them studying my limo with a naked greed more appropriate for thieves
than college girls. Finally, one of them asked me the magic question.

"How rich are you Mr. Thomas?" Patricia asked.

I reached behind me and opened a small jewelry box. I took out my petty
cash that I used for these games, and counted out a stack of hundred dollar
bills, thirty thousand in all. They marveled at the abundant cash, and I
handed them each a hundred dollar bill so that they could see what one
looked like. Kari snatched the bill from my hands while Patricia clenched
hers with reluctant worship.

"If you like, I'll let you keep that bill as a souvenir," I said.

"Oh please!" Kari said, her face lighting up. Patricia was still too
spellbound by the rare bill she held. Damn, I picked the perfect girls for
this tonight.

"But since I agree with your parents that you should earn your money,
I'm going to have to ask you to do something," I said. "I'll give you a
hundred dollars in exchange for your shirts."

"Our shirts?" Patricia asked, shocked.

Kari didn't react right away, she just looked at her money and then at
her shirt. "Come on Pat, it's just our shirts," Kari said. "You've got a
bra on, right? And Mr. Thomas, you just want our shirts, no funny stuff?"

"Of course," I lied.

Kari took hers off first, pulling her Tshirt over her head and handing
it to me. Her small breasts were constrained by a white bra, but I could
plainly see her nipples were hard against the sheer material. I smirked at
the knowledge that Kari was aroused to be stripping in front of me. It
looked that I was right about her cup size, they were perfect 36C cups.

Patricia was still hesitating but when she saw Kari do it, she gained
her courage. I like to think she didn't want Kari to be the only one to
get any money. Patricia reached down and pulled her shirt over her head in
a crossedarm motion. She was wearing a bright red lacy brassiere that was
clearly a size too small. Her pale large breasts were flowing over the
lacy material, the tops of her pink nipples clearly visible. I smiled at
her choice of bra colors, I find that many insecure women wear some sort of
racy color for their lingerie. Patricia tossed her shirt to me and then
tried to cross over arms over her chest. It was impossible for the shy
girl with the glasses to cover a 40D chest, but she tried.

"There you go, an easy hundred dollars," I said, taking their shirts.
"Now you have a better appreciation for that hundred dollar bill you have
clenched in your hands. When you spend it, you'll know exactly how much it
is worth to you."

"Are we going to have to strip off the rest of our clothes for the rest
of that money?" Kari asked. I was impressed. I see her lemon blonde hair
and her skinny waist, and I keep thinking of her as a dumb bimbo. I have
to remind myself that those glasses of hers aren't for decoration. She's
still a bimbo, just for even asking, but at least she's a smart one.

"No, no," I said as I handed poured them another glass of champagne. "I
just bought your shirts to give you an appreciation of money. I save the
bulk of my petty cash for more significant purchases."

"What kind of purchases?" Patricia asked.

"Oh, after a night of cruising streets, looking at pretty girls, I
usually select one and offer her twenty thousand dollars for a good
blowjob. That way, I go home satisfied and some lucky gal gets some
spending money to last her for a good while," I said. I enjoy the shocked
looks on their faces. The possibilities are already dancing in their eyes.

"Jesus Christ," Kari breathed. "Twenty thousand for a blowjob?"

"That could pay for my entire college," Patricia said. She was
breathing faster now, terrified and yet excited as well. Her chest was
rising and falling so fast, her right nipple slipped out of her bra and she
didn't even notice.

"Yes it could," I said. "Twenty thousand dollars for a good blowjob is
terribly expensive compared to getting a hooker to do it, but I prefer to
pay girls who really need it. More importantly, I only pay for GOOD
blowjobs, not the lousy ones hookers halfheartedly give you."

"What do you mean by a good blowjob?" Kari asked. She was rising for
the bait.

"I set an eggtimer," I explain. "If the girl gets me off within ten
minutes, then she gets the money. If it takes longer than ten minutes,
then they obviously don't know what they are doing. I only pay for
quality."

"Ten minutes?" Patricia asked, nervously giggling. "I didn't think any
guy could hold out for that long."

"I usually don't, but I had to set that limit after wasting my money on
some terrible incidents," I said. "Listen, normally I wait till the end of
the night and proposition some cute coed, but I feel sorry for you girls.
How would you like earn twenty thousand dollars for ten minutes of work?"

Patricia laughed, rather unconvincingly. "There's no way I'm going to
suck you. I'm not that tipsy! You do it, Kari. You've sucked Brian,
you've got experience."

Kari's eyes widened behind her glasses. "Patricia! That's a secret!
You weren't supposed to tell anyone!"

"I've dropped the offer to ten thousand," I said, averting their fight
from getting us offtopic. It might be interesting to watch two drunken
nerds fight, but that's not my game.

"Ten thousand? But that's less!" accused Kari.

I shrugged. "I don't haggle. If you two won't do it, I can find
others. I'm dropping the price to let you know how impatient I'm getting."

"C'mon Kari," Patricia begged. "You've done it before, you can do it
easily. We could buy stuff to spruce up our dorm room, and you could get
all those clothes you wanted."

"I notice you didn't bring up that computer you wanted," Kari sulked.
She looked at me, reaching down inside herself to see if she was willing to
prostitute herself.

"Ok, I'll do it," Kari said, taking a deep breath. Just because I'm a
bastard, and Patricia intrigued me by pimping her friend, I turned her
down.

"Sorry, Kari, I should have told you I'm not turned on by blondes," I
said. "It has to be from Patricia, or the deal is off."

"What? But I've never done it before!" Patricia whined.

"Damn it Patricia," Kari snapped. She could see that money in her eyes
and she wasn't going to let pat's inexperience get in her way. "There's
nothing to it! I'll tell you what to do, and this way you can buy as nice
as a computer as you want since you'll have earned it. Do you want to go
home to a dorm with no TV, a clock radio and no computer?"

Patricia thought about it, and I thought about how Kari summed it up
perfectly. How could they go home, knowing that they turned down more
money than they could have earned with part time jobs? How could Patricia
ever complain about being poor to Kari when she had the power to change it
herself and she refused? This is what I live for, watching someone
overcome their pride, their beliefs and their dignity for what they REALLY
value. It's nice to find people just like myself.

"Fuck it! I'll do it," Patricia said, setting down her glass.

"Excellent, kneel down in front of me," I ordered her. "Kari, when
Patricia starts, just press the red button on that digital clock there.
It's been preprogrammed to go off ten minutes after it's been pressed.
When the clock counts down to zero and I haven't climaxed yet, you'll
forfeit the money."

Patricia just nodded in agreement, so I removed my slacks. Her brown
eyes widened as I revealed my erect eight inches. I wondered if she was a
virgin, or if she just never saw a cock as large as mine. Either way,
there was apprehension on her face, but I saw the greed in her eyes. She
would go through with it, and deal with hating herself later. I sat back
down, and she just sat there in front of my cock, a little shocked to find
herself here. A smart girl, she never thought she would be kneeling in
front of a stranger, sucking him for money. She just didn't know herself
as well as I did.

"Anytime you're ready," I teased. Patricia blushed, took a deep breath
and grabbed my cock tentatively. She closed her eyes and leaned down to
place her mouth around the tip of my cock. She didn't even take off those
glasses. As soon as her lips were around my dick, I waved at Kari to start
the timer.

Patricia was trembling as she brought her mouth down further on my cock.
Her heavy breast were pressing tightly against the inside of my thighs, and
they felt better than the lousy job she was doing of sucking me. She got
three inches of me into her mouth before she started pulling me out. Once
she got to the ring of my tip, she would go back down.

My face must have betrayed how bad it was, for Kari was on the edge of
her seat leaning forward, giving instructions.

"No, no, you'll have to go down much further than that!" Kari
admonished. "You also got to use your tongue! You just can't move it
around in your mouth."

Patricia grunted and tried to get more of me in her. Her head dipped
down, and she took another two inches. Her tongue started wagging, moving
back and forth across my cock. It was slow at first, and her eyes were
clench so tight, she must have been dreading actually tasting my cock.
After a few shy licks, she got much bolder, waxing my cock with her spit as
her tongue washed me.

"Much, much better," I groaned.

"This'll help," Kari said, and she removed the ponytail holder from
Patricia's hair. Waves of curly brown hair cascaded down, covering my lap.
I moaned at the touch of her hair. Patricia's head continued to bob on my
cock, causing the hair to endlessly caress my thighs with her motion. I
reached down and parted her hair so that I could see her face. Her glasses
were sliding down her nose, but her eyes were so clenched, I doubted she
even noticed.

"You got to go faster" advised Kari, her eye on the clock. Patricia
speed her head up. She was still grabbing the base of my cock with both
hands, a death grip that prevented me from thrusting into her pretty mouth.
Her terror was amusing, definitely sexier than her actual sucking.
Patricia bounced faster on my cock; occasionally my cock would poke her
cheek, bulging the side of her face out. It was sloppy, but the sound of
my wet cock slipping past her lips was certainly arousing.

"Two minutes have gone by," I taunted. Patricia's eyes popped open at
that. Apparently she thought I would have gotten off by now.

"Lick it like a lollipop, guys love that!" Kari commanded. She was just
as nervous as Patricia was.

Patricia took her advice, popping my shiny cock out of her mouth. She
stuck her wide tongue out and starting from the base of my cock, she wiped
the length of my cock with her tongue. I shivered as she did this,
watching this nerdy girl act so nasty was a definite turnon. She was
smart enough to read my shiver as positive feedback, so she kept doing her
naughty act. Turning her head sideways, she gripped the side of my cock
with her lips like she would a flute. Then she moved her head up and down,
running my cock through her lips like a harmonica. Her eyes were wide open
now, staring at me from behind her thick lenses. She wanted that money
badly.

"Very good," I moaned. My hands went to her hair, getting a good grip
with each hand. She cried out at how tight I pulled her hair, but she
didn't complain. Patricia kept at her job, sticking her tongue out so that
I could see my pink cock pressed flat against her cherry red tongue.
Precum was already forming on the tip of my cock.

"He's almost ready!" Kari announced. She was an expert cocksucker for
one so young.

Patricia changed tactics, moving her head back to my tip and swallowing
back down again. I noticed her knees kept shifting, and I wondered just
how turned on by all of this she might be. She sucked me down a full six
inches now, and this time her tongue wasn't as lazy. Her tongue flickered
all over my cock, peppering my cock with ten thousand little nips. She
even lapped up the small amount of precum I had, flinching only slightly
at the salty taste. I might have climaxed right there, but the grip she
had around the base of my cock was holding back my cum. I held my tongue
of course; it was her money to earn.

I held out well thanks to her tight grip. Patricia's head kept bouncing
for another two minutes before she began to tire. Her tongue slowed down,
lathering my cock with slow, sensual swipes. Finally, she released my cock
from her mouth with a wet, noisy 'POP.'

"My jaw's hurting," Patricia whined. Her eyes looked up at me almost
accusingly.

"I'll take over," Kari said, desperation in her eyes.

"As much as a tagteam blowjob intrigues me, we're staying with the
original deal," I said. These stupid girls; If it wasn't for Patricia's
nervous grip on my cock, I would have exploded already. She was better
than a cockring.

"Maybe if you took off your bra, it'll go faster," I suggested. To my
surprise, Patricia instantly complied. In fact, Kari moved behind her and
popped the latches on her bra. Her heavy breast popped free, dragging down
with their weight. Wow, they were so large, they were already beginning to
sag at her young age.

"I got an idea!" Kari said. "Put his dick between your tits and then
suck it!"

I laughed at the idea of Kari giving orders to her friend on how to
seduce me. It was easy for the blonde to give suggestions. She wasn't the
one between my legs. Patricia wrinkled her nose at the suggestion, but she
was too scared of losing to argue. The young brunette lifted her breasts
up, and wrapped them around my cock in a soft, pliant titty sandwich. My
eyes rolled at their softness, and I wrapped my legs around Patricia's
chest, making sure her breasts weren't going anywhere.

With my ankles wrapped around her, crossing just above her waist,
Patricia returned to her chance at ten thousand dollars. Her hands kept
her breasts squished around my cock, slipping easily on my wet cock. She
tilted her head down and even straining, she could only get the top two
inches of my cock into her lips. She wrapped her lips tightly though, and
her tongue flickered rapidly over my opening, calling for the cum that
would make her richer. It was extremely difficult to not climax, but I
managed to hold out by closing my eyes. It didn't deter Patricia though,
she just squeezed her breasts tighter and licked faster. She had abandoned
modesty long ago and was now willing to do anything to win.

"Hey open your eyes, Mr." Kari asked. I did so, noticing there was two
minutes left on the clock. Then I noticed Kari. She had her bra off and
was openly kneading her breasts and her erect, hard, flushed nipples.

"Like what you see?" Kari teased, and I nodded agreement. Oh, her
breasts were nice, but it was her desperation that I enjoyed more. She was
so worried about losing that money, she was willing to go topless to help
her friend out. I love that kind of greed in a woman.

I had planned to hold out, but Kari's final act of greed changed my
mind. I surrendered to my body, enjoying the soft masturbation of
Patricia's breast and the frantic licking that begged for my cum. My eyes
remained on Kari, watching her knead her own nice breasts for my enjoyment.
She kept pinching her nipples, pulling them out and letting them snap back.
With a minute left on the timer, I felt the familiar trembling of my hips
that signaled orgasm.

I gave Patricia no warning as she tasted cum for the first time. My
cock erupted its load, springing out into her mouth and onto her tongue.
Patricia jerked as the first salty stream ejaculated in her mouth, but my
grip on her hair prevented her from moving. After the second eruption, I
released her hair, and her head sprang back. Patricia's face was wrinkled;
her eyes were clenched in disgust and her mouth opened, revealing my white
cream in her mouth. My ankles were still locked around her waist though,
so she had no where to go as my cock finished emptying its load on her
chest. My load was enormous, as it always is when I make people confront
their own greed. I grabbed my cock and masturbated every last shooting
stream onto her chest. As I expected, Patricia didn't say a word as I
covered her breasts with my white gel. Even though she was terrified, she
wasn't willing to complain for fear of losing the money. Patricia was
going to remember this for a long time. She should thank me for teaching
her so much about herself.

"Here is your money, ladies. You've earned your comforts for this
year," I said. I handed the money to Patricia. The brunette was still in
a state of shock, trying to wipe the cum off her chest with her bra. She
took the money and put it in her purse. I would love to be there when she
gave some of it to Kari, for I was curious how much she blamed or resented
her friend for what happened tonight.

"Emily, please stop at the next light, the ladies are leaving now," I
commanded through an intercom.

"Leaving here?" Kari said. I simply nodded. I had climaxed; I didn't
see the point of being nice anymore. When they started to reach for their
shirts, I placed my hand on the pile and gave them my fieriest scowl.

"I bought your shirts, remember?" I said.

Patricia's face was classic, pure comprehending terror. "But I can't go
out like this!" She wailed. Her chest was almost clean, but her bra was
useless, covered as it was in my spunk.

"You expected that I gave you a hundred dollars just for you to take
your shirts off?" I growled. "Or do you think you can just ask for them
back? I paid you, you earned those hundred dollars, and now they are mine.
Haven't you learned anything tonight?"

They begged of course, but I ignored them. When I threatened to have
Emily throw them out forcefully, they relented. Kari put her bra back on
and crossed her arms, but she still looked sinful. Patricia had a much
worse time. She put her sticky bra back on, grimacing as the hot cum
rubbed into her breasts. They said some last insults about me, but they
left without a fight.

I ordered Emily to drive us home, never sparing even a glance at the
halfnaked girls we left on the corner. They had their ten thousand
dollars. That will help sooth their wounded prides from walking home
without their shirts. Maybe now they'll think about the consequences
before they give in to their greed.

As for me? I stopped the hidden camera that was located behind me.
Even with my wealth, I can't always find desperate, greedy women to satisfy
me. I'll watch Patricia do her reluctant blowjob again some quiet night
when prey is harder to find.

The end.

What did you think? Should I continue with similar examples of what
people will do for money? Any questions or requests? Let me know or ask
at ArthurGThomasaol

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This story concerns an older woman held in a police station for being in a
car in which drugs were found, and having to wait handcuffed with a full
bladder because there is no female police available to search her. No hard
sex, no brutality. A bit of watersports (holdit, mostly) with some
(reluctantly consensual) exhibitionism, mild bondage (handcuffs).

MMM/F Exhib W/S Mild Bond



WAITING FOR SEARCHING

By Francine

It was two thirty in the morning at the small town police station. Not
much happened in this area of interest to police, and this was a rather
quiet night, much as usual. In the front room of the station only three
people were present.

Sergeant Alvin Russell busied himself with paperwork at the main desk.
There wasn't anything really pressing, but someone had to do the
recordkeeping chores, and, anyway, it was a way to fight boredom. Seldom,
in this town, were police called on to do any serious crime fighting.
Tonight, all the business they had was the arrest of two young men passing
through the town at a bit more than the speed limit, just enough to attract
the attention of a patrolling officer; but after stopping them for speeding
evidence of drugs was found in the car, and a search had turned up a cache
of cocaine. The two offenders wound up in the holding cell in the rear,
from which they would be picked up in the morning by the county police.
Seemed a pretty routine night.

A bit away from the desk, Officer George Golitari lounged in a chair,
reading a magazine. If no calls came in, he might go out in the police car
for a cruise around the town in another hour or so, just to assure the
citizens the cops were around. Nothing very scary ever seemed to happen
here.

A police radio blared sporadic bits of communication, none of which
seemed to concern the two officers on duty. The hum of an air conditioner
provided the only other obvious noise. No one was talking.

There was one other occupant of the room, and a visitor might easily
have missed her, for she had been trying her best to appear inconspicuous.
She was a nice looking, well groomed lady in her late fifties, wearing a
longskirted black party dress, with a corsage of roses on one shoulder.
The offtheshoulder style left her other shoulder bare, showing her white
skin. The dress was not especially low cut, but was nicely styled. She
sat in a chair adjoining the railing separating the police officer's desks
from the public area of the station. One hand was in her lap, as she
repeatedly made a fist and then unclenched it, appearing to be in some
discomfort. If one looked closely, it would be noted that the other hand
rested near the bars of the low barrier, and her wrist was attached to the
barrier by a handcuff.

Sandra Morgan looked as though she come from a party, for she was
certainly dressed for one. Indeed she had. It had been a good party and
fun, too, at least until her trip home. She had been invited to a party
given by several of the fellow employees of her company, held at a site
some fifty miles from her home. She had been taken there with some
friends, who had driven considerably out of their way to pick her up and
take her there. It had been a good party, which she enjoyed. She wasn't a
real drinker, but she recalled that she had drunk several glasses of wine,
not enough to make her drunk, but enough for her to be feeling the effects
a bit. She had also partaken of soft drinks and several glasses of fruit
juice, so the alcohol had been considerably diluted. She definitely was
not drunk.

About midnight, the party began to break. Two young men, well known to
others there, had offered her a ride home, since they were going directly
through the town in which she lived, and the friends who had brought her
would have to drive many miles out of their way if they were to take her.
It had seemed a safe and reasonable decision to accept the proffered ride
from the two young men. They had seemed nice and gentlemanly, and she did
enjoy their company.

After they left the party, they drove in the planned direction, a trip
of about fifty miles, passing through only two or three small towns or
villages. There was no traffic, it was late, and while the the driver had
not been careless, he had not paid close attention to speed limits on the
deserted roads. As they passed through this one small community, they saw
the flash of lights behind them, and found themselves pulled over by a lone
policeman.

Sandra had expected that this would result in nothing more than a
warning, or at worst, a speeding ticket. But the alert officer looked into
the car, and spotted evidence that would not have been noticed by Sandra.
All of them were taken to the police station, where the car was searched,
and a quantity of cocaine was turned up. Sandra, knowing nothing of this,
was almost in shock. She had to watch as the two young men were booked on
drug charges, then taken to the back of the building where they were locked
up pending a transfer to the county police.

Meanwhile, Sandra had been told to wait in the front office, and the
sergeant had handcuffed her to the railing. She was horrified and
humiliated. Never had she been in any trouble with the law, and she loudly
protested that she knew nothing of the drugs, and was only a passenger.

Her protests had been to no avail. Sgt. Russell admonished her, "Lady,
you were in that car with those two young fellows. We found drugs and drug
paraphernalia in the car. Both of them were searched, and we turned up
drugs on both of them. They are facing drug charges, and will be
transferred to the county jail in the morning. I have no way of knowing
your connection with them, but you have to be subjected to search, also,
because you were part of the group. If you come up clean, you may be
released because you do have identification and apparently no alert is out
for you. But I can do nothing until you have been searched for illegal
substances. And, I can't search you. Male officers are not allowed to
search women prisoners, and we have no female officer here right now. So
you have to wait."

She had tried to find a way out, "Does it have to be a strip search?"
she had asked, "You've looked through my purse, and I don't mind if you
want to pat me down where would I hide anything?" Her innocence the
sergeant found a bit naive and annoying.

"Lady", he had told her, "I don't have to tell you where women try to
hide stuff. You can figure that out yourself. And yes, you do have to be
strip searched, so get used to that idea. For all I know, you may be the
principal character in this little scenario. You're old enough to have a
little drug business of your own going, and you're not going to disarm me
by trying to appear innocent. If there's nothing on you, we'll find it
out. The only thing I can do right now is ask you if have any of the stuff
on you, produce it and come clean. Then we'll book you along with the
others!"

Sandra knew she had no illegal drugs on her. She almost wished she had,
because that at least would get her free from this chair and into a cell.
As it was, she was locked to this one spot. She asked if she had to stay
right there, and promised not to leave if they would take off the handcuff.
No luck. "We're taking no chances, lady; if you have any evidence on you,
you're getting a chance to get rid of it before we find it. You stay right
here where we can keep an eye on you."

That had been around one o'clock. Since then she had been kept
handcuffed to the railing, effectively confined to the one chair. He arm
was getting tired. She was quite uncomfortable, and not only because her
arm was tiring.

The sergeant had told her they were trying to find a female officer to
search her, so they could settle what to do with her. From the
conversations and telephone calls she overheard, she had deduced that the
town had only one female officer, who was presently not on duty. They had
tried to call her, but there had been no answer. They had checked some
other police facilities in the closest towns, but they had no female
officer available either. So she waited.

About two o'clock, she had asked the sergeant, quietly and much
embarrassed, "Sergeant, will you allow me to go the bathroom? I really
need to, please?"

He shook his head. "Mrs. Morgan, you don't go anywhere until we've had
you searched. You don't get any chances to flush away evidence, or drop it
into a trash bin. We're doing our best to get a police woman to check you
out, but we haven't found one yet, and until we do, you stay right where
you are!"

"Please, officer, understand that I'm a woman being held here I don't
have any choice in you holding me. But I do need to go to the bathroom,
rather badly, and I think you should let me! " Her protests got nothing
but a shrug, and the final comment, "You stay right where you are until we
get you searched."

Sandra was indeed uncomfortable. Her mind flashed back to the wine, the
soft drinks, the juice; all the liquids she had consumed at the party. She
had used the bathroom before leaving the party, but that was over two and a
half hours ago, and with her considerable liquid consumption, her bladder
was feeling quite full.

She sat, having no real choice, trying to find a position that would
relieve the tired muscle in her cuffed arm, and the increasing fullness in
her abdomen.

The clock edged toward three. Her discomfort was getting much worse.
She squirmed noticeably, and her face carried a grimace. Again she pleaded
for relief. "Sergeant, please have a little understanding for me. I am
very uncomfortable, and I need to go the bathroom. Isn't there anything
you can do? I simply can't wait and wait and wait please!!"

The sergeant looked at officer Golitari. "Any ideas? " he asked.

The policeman scowled. "I don't know what we can do but make her wait
until we get a female officer. We can't search her, and until she's
searched, we can't let her leave our sight."

Sandra interrupted, "Look, I'm desperate. If you will let me go to the
bathroom, you can come along and watch, if you want. I 'm not trying to
get rid of anything!"

Golitari raised an eyebrow, "You're not trying to get rid of anything?"
he inquired, suggestively.

"Look, you know what I have to get rid of my kidneys have been working
on what I drank last evening, and it wasn't liquor. I 've got to let it
out, or I'm going to spring a leak. Have a heart, you guys; my bladder is
stretched to the limit! I don't relish a man watching me use the bathroom,
but I've got to have some relief! You don't realize how much it hurts to
keep holding it!"

The two policemen again checked messages for any sign of a female
officer, with negative results. Then they tried again to call their
policewoman's phone number, but got no reply.

Finally Officer Golitari had a brainstorm. "Al, maybe there's one way
you can give her a little relief," he began. Russell was interested. He
waited for more,

The policeman went on, "you could ask her for a urine sample, and get
her to give one here. We're entitled to ask for one, and there's no rule
saying that she has to do it privately. She could do it without taking her
clothes off, and if you keep the sample, then she hasn't had the chance to
get rid of anything. How about it?"

"George, that won't help her much. The little jars only hold a little
bit, and she's got a bigger problem than that. Besides, I don't really
expect her to do it here in front of us, do you?"

Sandra broke in, "Look, you guys, I'll do it in front of you if that's
what you need. But, please, I've got to get some relief. Just don't make
me keep holding it!"

George had another suggestion, "You know, we've got bottles that are a
little bigger. There's a one that'll hold about a half pint. We could let
her fill that one!"

"OK, OK, please just let me!" Sandra really sounded desperate.

The two men looked at each other. Sandra continued to beg, "Please,
please, don't just talk about it. Let me, please, please, now!"

"OK" the sergeant responded. "Al, see if you can work it out. But you
can't uncuff her. She's got to do it with the cuff on, and without taking
her clothes off. If you can figure a way for her to do it, you can let her
lose a half pint. Maybe then she'll feel a little better."

George took the half pint jar, and went over to Sandra. He sized up the
situation. "Sorry, Mam, but you heard the sergeant. I can't uncuff you.
I'll move the chair, so you can squat there. Can you pull down your
underpants with your free hand?" She nodded, and tried. It was an awkward
posture. Her left arm was extended upward., cuffed to the railing, as she
tried to squat. With her right hand, she reached under her long skirt, and
tried to work down her panties.

Finding her long skirt a problem, she looked to George, "Would it break
the rules if you held up my skirt for me? Please? Please?" George looked
to Sgt. Russell, who just shrugged. George picked up the hem of her
skirt, and held it high enough to expose her thighs and lower body. She
shifted so she was facing him, her panties now down to her knees.

He gave her the small jar. She tried to position it under her, then
suddenly realized it was out of her sight. "You'll have to tell me when
it's full, so I can stop!" she told him. He nodded, dropping his head to
look at the jar, realizing he was looking directly at her genitals covered
by dark pubic hair. Suddenly, a stream of urine shot out into the jar. In
what seemed only a few seconds, the jar filled. "Stop!" her ordered her.
She clenched her muscles, grimacing in pain and with the effort. The flow
stopped.

George withdrew the jar, and held it up for inspection. It was full to
the brim of very light colored urine. "Well, she doesn't produce very
strong stuff. She must have drunk a lot, because it's so diluted. No
wonder she's been fussing to let it out. Bet she's got lots more in her!"

Sandra, still terribly uncomfortable, rearranged her clothes and resumed
her seat. "Really, that didn't help very much, and I can't hold it much
longer; please, please, find a way for me to relieve myself before I do it
all over the floor here if I have to wait another hour I won't care how I
do it!"

The two men watched her squirming and showing facial expressions of
great discomfort. "You do it there, and we'll get you a rag to clean it
up, or maybe you'll have to do it with your dress! We're trying to ease
your pain, so don't make threats at us!" Al was still suspicious that she
was covering up some kind of contraband hidden on her person.

About half past three, the phone rang. After a bit of conversation, Al
addressed Sandra, "Well, we have good news for you. Officer Frances
Coleman is on her way you're about to get your search!"

Sandra struggled to hang on. Her bladder was now so distended it was
giving her continual pain as it tried to stretch beyond its limits. She
was unable to sit still, and continuously moved and fidgeted, her face
contorted. She was desperately trying to hold on a few more minutes.

Around a quarter to four, a uniformed officer walked in the door. He
introduced himself. "Hi! I'm Frank Coleman of the Uniontown force. I was
told to drive over here, because you've got a prisoner and you need my
help. What gives?"

The two men simply stared. Gradually, Al explained the situation with
Sandra, adding, "We thought you were a female officer no offense, but is
there some misunderstanding? We need a woman police officer to strip
search this prisoner!"

"Must be some kind of misunderstanding! But my name is Francis, really,
and I've had this sort of problem before. Goes with the name. However, I
guess I can't help you, so.."

"Please, officers, " Sandra broke in, "I've just got to get this over, I
just can't wait, so, please, please, just let it go that this officer is
Frances with an e, and let's get this done!!"

Her anxiety was obvious. Al tried to explain to Frank, "She's been here
for three hours, and we can't let her go to the bathroom until she's been
strip searched. I'm sorry for her I know she's been hurting pretty bad
because she came from a party where she a lot to drink, and her bladder's
probably stretched about up to her neck. We even let her give a urine
sample, under her skirt, naturally; but it didn't help her much, and I
don't know what to do with her. Look, if you want to do a strip search on
her, and she consents to it thinking you're Frances with an e, I'll go
along with it. "

"Please, officer, " Sandra begged, "I'll consent, anything to get this
over, just please, please, get on with it! Don't make me wait any longer!"

Frank considered the point. "Well, she's no sweet young thing, so it
may not look too bad for me anyway, but I don't want to do it privately,
I want to be sure there are witnesses so I don't get accused of doing
something with her. Tell you what, will you two guys agree to watch if she
consents to strip herself in front of me? I'll be the officer doing the
search, but I don't want to touch her, and I want you guys to watch it."

Al looked at George. "OK with me, how about you?" George agreed. Al
looked to Sandra, "OK, lady, we're doing this the way you asked; and we'd
better never hear any fuss from you about it later. If I uncuff you, are
you willing to strip right here, and we'll all do the search of you and
your clothes?"

Sandra, shaking, horribly embarrassed at what she was about to do, but
desperate to get it over and relieve herself, replied clearly, "OK, let's
get started please!!"

Al unlocked the handcuff. She straightened up, standing by the railing.
Frank now addressed her, "Mrs. Morgan, I want you to remove your clothes a
piece at a time, as I request you, and hand each item to me. I will then
give the items to these officers to inspect. First, please remove your
shoes."

She slipped off both her shoes and passed them to Frank, one at a time.
He immediately handed them to George.

"Next" , he said, "I must ask you to take off your dress."

She unpinned the corsage from her dress and handed it over. Then,
unfastening the dress rapidly, she pulled it down and slipped out of it.
She handed it to Frank. Now she was wearing a black half slip and a black
brassiere. Below the slip, her stockinged legs were visible.

Frank passed the dress to George. "Next, the bra," he instructed.

She reached behind herself, unhooked the bra, and dropped it from her
body, passing it to Frank. Her breasts, not really large but drooping just
a little, swung about as she moved. She tried, for just a moment, to hold
her breasts with her hands, then dropped both arms. "Does the slip go
next?" she asked. "OK" Frank indicated. She stepped out of the half slip,
leaving only her white panties and stockings.. Instantly she pressed her
hands to her crotch.

"Please, please, please, let me pee! I don't care who watches or where,
but please let me, now, NOW!" She was insistent. To herself, she could
hardly believe that she had uttered these words. Her distress had reached
a point that modesty was no longer even a consideration to her.

Frank told her, "take off the panties", then, turning to George, "you
guys got a bucket around here somewhere? I don't think we should let her
use a toilet too easy to flush away something if she's hiding."

George responded, "There's a bucket outside. But don't let her do it in
here she may make a mess on the floor!"

Frank answered, "Then let's take her outside, right in front. There's a
good light out there, and no one's around to see at this hour. If we make
her stand up to do it, and let her do it into the bucket, we'll see if
she's doing any hiding."

Sandra had dropped the panties and handed them to Frank. She felt
slightly ridiculous standing there in nothing but a pair of elastic top
nylon stockings, with her pubic hair prominently on display just above
them. "Do I need to take these off, too?" she asked, indicating the
stockings.

"Everything comes off", Frank responded. Sandra sat on the chair,
almost naked, and removed the stockings. She handed them, one at a time,
to Frank. He motioned for her to stand, which she did. Her hands went to
her bare crotch in an effort to help hold her bursting bladder.

Now she was standing in the police station, totally nude, desperately
clutching her crotch, and they were talking about making her walk outside,
under a bright light, and making her urinate from a standing position into
a bucket, while they all watched. She felt humiliated beyond belief, but
she would do anything right now to get relief.

She was led outside, under the bright lights illuminating the front of
the station. There was no shelter, no privacy. A bucket was placed on the
ground. Frank told her what to do. : Mrs. Morgan, we want you to spread
your legs and straddle the bucket, standing up. You may urinate, but try
to get it into the bucket. And keep your hands away from your body."

She complied. The spectacle, she thought, was unbelievably humiliating.
A gray haired woman, absolutely nude, standing astride a bucket in the
middle of the night, under a bright light, urinating in front of three men!

With great difficulty she tried to convince her muscles to relax and
allow her the blessed relief. Gradually it happened. While she closed her
eyes to avoid seeing the men, and knew she was blushing every shade of red,
her urine stream poured from her crotch into the bucket. From the sound,
which seemed like thunder in the otherwise silent night, she knew it was
going into the container. She felt humiliated almost beyond belief, but,
oh, what a wonderful relief! The release and end to the pain and pressure
in her bladder was what she so desperately wanted that it mattered not what
price she paid in this gross insult to her modesty and privacy.

Slowly she opened her eyes and looked at the policemen. All three were
standing in front of her, their eyes focused on her crotch and her profuse
urination. Part of her wanted to stop, but the greater part demanded
completion of the relief. As her stream gradually diminished, she pushed
down, as hard as she could, to keep it going and expel that last of the
liquid inside her. Finally, it was over. The stream stopped. She moved
away from the bucket.

"Wow", Frank commented, "I never saw anything like that. Look what she
had in her. No wonder she was making such a fuss!"

"Let's take her inside and finish the search", Al directed. She was
ushered inside.

"We need to look you over, and do a quick cavity check, Mrs. Morgan.
Please stand still, and place your hands behind your neck. Spread your
legs!"

She complied, revealing every part of her anatomy to the three men.
They walked around her, as she stood under the bright light, peering into
her armpits, closely looking at her still wet crotch with its drops of
urine still in evidence (they hadn't let her wipe).

"You can lower your hands, now, and use them to hold your breasts up, so
we can look under them", she was instructed. The emphasis was on her
slightly dangling breasts, unsupported and hanging a bit loosely. Flushing
a little at this instruction, she held her breasts up, a hand under each.

Then she got the instruction she hated the most, "Now, you must reach
down and hold open your genitals spread the lips, so we can see in".
The men weren't quite sure how to phrase this instruction, but she
understood. She complied, displaying her most private areas. George
produced a flashlight and shined it into her splayed privates. She winced,
but said nothing.

Then they had her bend over and spread her buttocks as they peered at
her rear. With this final invasion of her privacy finished, Al announced,
"OK, Mrs. Morgan, you look like you're clean. I am sorry we had to put
you through all this. You may get dressed now. We're going to let you go,
and I hope none of us will be hearing any more about this."

In haste, she put her clothes back on. Frank called a taxi for her,
which appeared a few minutes later. They were obviously glad to have her
out of the way. She suspected, however, that they had at least to a small
extent, enjoyed the show. She would not complain to anyone, not ever
wanting to have to talk about this awful experience. Awful. It was.
Tortuous, painful, humiliating. But, maybe, those three policemen had not
found a fifty seven year old woman totally distasteful to look at. Maybe.
But she surely wasn't going to ask.

The taxi driver asked her if she had been in some difficulty at the
police station. "No", she answered him, "just a rest stop, really. I
needed to use the bathroom." He gave her a perplexed look in the rear view
mirror. She smiled that her sense of humor was beginning to return.

END

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Originally posted to Feb 17, 2003


Brandi Learns A Lesson (Chapters 1, 2, and 3)(M/F, MF/F, F/F,
blkm, N/C, bd, spank, oral, anal)

By Rod Ramsey

The following story is fiction. It is intended for consenting
adults. It may contain any and all sexual perversions. If you
are offended by sex stories, you don't belong here. All
characters are fictitious and any resemblance to actual persons,
living or dead is purely coincidental. This story takes place in
a fantasy world where STD's and unwanted pregnancies do not
exist. In this plane of existence most women are naturally
submissive bisexuals and men are well hung studs that can go all
night and cum several times a night. Like I said completely
fictitious.

This work is ed 2003 by Rod Ramsey. License is given
for end user to make one copy for personal use, without
modification. No website or publisher that charges a fee for
access or distribution shall use this work without prior written
consent of the author. Free archives may store and distribute
this work, provided this disclaimer and notice remains
attached.

This is my first story attempt. If you like the story or have
constructive criticism please feel free to let me know at
rodramseyyahoo. If you just want to flame me then FOAD.
I'll be wearing my asbestos undies anyway.



Brandi Learns A Lesson (M/f, MF/f, F/f, blkm, N/C, bd, spank,
oral, anal) By Rod Ramsey

Chapter 1 Brandi Gets Caught

Michael looked up to the video screen when he heard the front
door chime. A familiar looking dark haired young woman had just
entered the shop. Carlie, his assistant was almost finished with
a customer, so he decided to let the woman browse and Carlie
could help her when she was finished. The young woman walked
over to the display of crystal figurines the shop had. Michael
watched her walk, trying to remember the face and where he knew
her from. Mike had a thing for attractive young women and he was
just about to go assist her himself when the woman, with a look
toward the counter, slipped one of the figurines into her purse.

"Damn, another fucking shoplifter," Mike said. The woman had
nonchalantly picked up a second figurine. "She wouldn't?"

Mike hit the real time switch on the timelapse recorder, he
wanted to get this. Into her purse the second piece went. Mike
walked into the front of the store and stood by the counter as
the girl headed out. Mike followed her out and gently took her
arm.

"Excuse me miss, but I think you forgot to pay for some items.
Would you come with me?" He said, leading the startled girl back
into the store.

"Oh god, I'm so sorry. I couldn't help myself," she said. "I can
pay for them, honest. It's just that the bank doesn't pay me
until next Friday."

The Bank, that's where he knew her from. "She's one of the
tellers, well she was anyway," Mike thought. Leading her into
the office he said, "The bank, a trusted employee of the town
bank shoplifting. What is this world coming too? You know they
will probably fire you when they find out you were arrested for
shoplifting. Let's have them."

Mike held out his had as the girl reached into her purse for
the crystal figurines.

"Please, don't have me arrested. I can pay for them, really I
can," she replied with a whine.

"Sit," he said pointing to a metal chair. "What's your name?"

"Brandi Webster, Sir."

"What's your height and weight, Brandi?" Mike asked writing
down the information.

"Five foot four inches, um, one hundred and ten pounds. Are you
sure we can't work this out?"

"What's your age?"

"Nineteen, I'll be twenty in September."

"Humph, not even twenty and your going to jail. What's your
address?" Mike could see the tears welling up in her eyes.

"Um, 280 Brookside, sir." Getting onto her knees the girl
begged, "Please, I'll do anything. My dad's on the City Council
and he'll kill me if I get arrested." The tears started.

"Anything?" Mike asked, maybe he could have some fun.

"Yes, anything. Just name it," the girl was looking at the
floor.

"I have a video tape of you stealing. The bank will fire you
and daddy will kill you. Are you sure you mean anything?"

"Uh hun, I'll do anything, I'll let you do anything. Just don't
have me arrested," She replied as tears poured down the girl's
face.

"I can punish you?"

"Yes Sir, anything, just don't have me arrested," The kneeling
girl plead.

"Are you finished with work today?" Mike asked.

"I'm on lunch. If I don't get back soon I'll be late."

"What time do you get off tonight?

"Six or Sixthirty, it depends on how busy we are and how
quickly I can balance my drawer."

Mike thought for a few seconds then said, "Give me your wallet.
Be here at seven, no later, or I'll call the police."

"Yes Sir, thank you," the girl said handing Mike her wallet.


The rest of the afternoon Brandi fidgeted and squirmed. What
would the man at the clothing store demand of her. She wasn't
naive, he would probably want sex. Brandi knew that would work,
her last boyfriend had taught her how to deepthroat and said she
was the best at cocksucking.


Mike had let Carlie go home at six, the shop closed at six
thirty and he didn't expect any customers. He put out the
closed sign and went in the back to get things set up. Getting
the digital recorder set up took no time at all, hiding the four
color video cameras to get the shots he wanted took the better
part of a halfhour. Brandi arrived just before seven, Mike
liked what he saw. She had changed from the bank uniform of blue
slacks and green sweater into a midlength blue skirt, white
blouse and 3 inch pumps.

"Are you wearing pantyhose or stockings?" He asked, admiring
the view.

"Stockings, I hate pantyhose. Um, what did you have in mind?"
she inquired.

"I think we can start with a spanking. I take it you don't have
anywhere else to be tonight?" Pointing the girl to the back as
he lowered the blinds and locked the door.

"A spanking? Shit! He was serious about punishing me," ran
through her mind.

"Can't we work something else out?" she asked.

"Oh, I think we'll work plenty out."

Sitting down in a high backed wooden chair, Mike patted his
knee. One camera hidden at seat height should get an excellent
shot of her rear end.

"Come over here and lay across my lap, facing the wall," he
instructed.

"Please don't do this," the girl plead. "I'll let you fuck me.
Just don't spank me."

"I'll probably fuck you anyway. Now, would you like to see the
video of your crime, before I call the police?"

Taking small steps Brandi walked to the man's side and slowly
lowered herself over his knees. Mike pulled the girl up so her
thighs were against his leg. Flipping the skirt up over her
back, Mike whistled at her white panties with cute little pink
hearts.

"Did you wear these for me?" he asked, plucking at the tight
material.

"No. They were just what I wore to work today. I didn't expect
anyone to see them," the embarrassed young woman replied.

Mike started to rub his hand on the girl's ass. "Very nice," he
thought, noticing the firmness of flesh and that the straps for
the garter were on the inside of the panties. Obviously the girl
had expected to remove the panties. Mike gave the girl a
tentative swat on her butt. When he got no reaction he started
the spanking in earnest. After five swats Brandi started to
whimper and on the seventh let out a quiet "Oww." Mike had just
reached ten when the girl started to squirm.

Swat eleven brought a vocal, "Ouch, damn that hurts." Brandi
could feel Mike's cock, still restrained in his slacks, growing
larger against her belly.

"Hold still or I'll start over," Mike responded with a quick
double swat. "Just seven more to go for the first round." Swats
fourteen, fifteen and sixteen were each accompanied with an
"Oww, OWW and OWW." Mike paused for a few seconds, rubbing the
girl's ass gently. Brandi was just starting to think it was over
when Mike gave the last three swats hard and fast. Brandi
tumbled to the floor as with the last stinging blow Mike pushed
her off his lap.

Brandi stood up rubbing her sore butt. "Can I go now?" she
asked.

"Go? Goodness no, we're just getting started." With that Mike
turned on a CD, soft waltz music started to play, "Dance for
me," he ordered.

Brandi started to sway her hip and move her feet slightly. She
knew he wanted sexy, but right now she didn't feel sexy.

"You can do better than that," Mike said.

"Uh, yeah if I had some decent music to dance to," Brandi shot
back.

"Well let's see. My assistant likes to listen to this while she
cleans back here." Mike put a second CD on, this one was
definitely danceable. Britney Spears started to sing and Brandi
at least could dance to the music. Brandi swayed her hips and
wiggled her butt to the music. As she danced she closed her eyes
and instead of a dirty old man she pretended that she was
dancing for, Dino, the cute loan officer at the bank. Dino had
been the subject of Brandi's fantasies since he started two
weeks ago. Mike didn't care who she imagined, he had to see more
of that sexy young body. As the next song started he instructed
her to undress as she danced. A sexy little striptease just for
me.

"I don't think so," said the still wiggling girl.

"I could still call the cops and besides you offered to let me
fuck you. Remember?"

"Oh, alright."

It couldn't be too horrible to do a strip for this guy. Besides
she did offer to fuck him. Brandi thought about what the
strippers on TV shows did, bump and grind, as she slowly
unbuttoned her blouse. She started with the top two buttons then
the bottom two, leaving just the center buttoned, she turned her
back on Mike. Unbuttoning the last button, Brandi held the sides
together as she swayed back around. Hips flowing she flashed her
bra for the watching man before turning away once more.

Looking over her shoulder she asked demurely, "Am I doing ok?"

"Your doing fine. Turn around and let me see you."

Instead Brandi slipped her blouse off her shoulders and swayed
her body back and forth. Still holding the blouse together
Brandi bump and grinded her way around to face Mike. Getting
into it more than she would like to admit, Brandi opened the
blouse and let it fall to he waist, held on by her wrists. She
wiggled her tasty looking tits at Mike and once more turning her
back, let the blouse fall. Reaching behind her Brandi unhooked
her bra, holding it up with arms crossed she turned to the
front. Completely unaware that three cameras were recording her
every move, Brandi peeled down the left side exposing the
nipple. She did a pirouette, so fast Mike caught just the
briefest glimpse of her nipple. All the time continuing to sway
back and forth, Brandi peeled down the right side and with both
nipples exposed turned. Mike was loving the show and watched
enthralled as Brandi dropped the bra, letting it join the
blouse. With a look that would do a professional proud Brandi
reached up to cup her breasts and tease her hardening nipples.
Horny now, Brandi slid the zipper of her skirt down and with
little hesitation let it fall to the floor.

"Did you know this would get me so hot?" Brandi asked as she
slid her hand down the outside of her panties and cupped her
pussy.

"It'll make the rest of you punishment easier. Take off the
panties and let me see your cunt," Mike said in the way of
reply.

Brandi, needed no more encouragement. She once more turned away
and with legs at shoulder width slid the pretty panties to her
ankles. The lighting was perfect for the camera behind Mike to
get a good shot of her cunt, hopefully the quality would allow
for a digital zoom. Brandi stepped out of the panties with her
left foot and turning around kicked them at Mike. The shot landed
the panties in Mike's face, he reached up and holding them to his
nose to in his first scent of this darling Womanchild.

"Good shot. I bet you couldn't do that again if you tried," he
said. Lowering his hand and admiring her trimmed pussy.

"What's the bet?"

"If you make it, I fuck you and let you go home. If you don't
make it you have to be my slave the whole weekend," Mike
replied, tossing the panties at her feet.

"What do you mean by slave? I don't think I like that."

"I'll still finish your punishment for stealing the crystals,
as well, you will do whatever I want until seven pm Sunday,"
Mike answered. "Is it a bet?"

"Your on." Four years of highschool soccer came down to this one
shot. If she made it she would feel vindicated for the
scholarship she didn't get. Brandi spun, the panties flew in a
perfect arc, missing Mike's smiling face by a scant quarter
inch. He couldn't tell if the panties had touched his ear or if
it was the air disturbed by it's passing.

"Fuck!"

"Maybe later. Right now come over here and let me get a good
look at you," Mike said gently.


Brandi walked over to the seated man. Mike took Brandi's hip
and moved her to the side. Running both hands up and down her
hips, up to her stomach and finally to cup her breasts. The girl
was shaking again in fear and anger, fear of what this man would
now demand of her and anger for missing a chip shot. Mike gave
her tits a squeeze then moved down her body, reaching around to
cup her ass and pull her toward him.

"You missed on purpose, didn't you?" He asked. The girl's lust
was obvious from the scent.

"No, I've played soccer for years. That should have been a
easy goal."

"A pair of panties has different dynamics and flight
characteristics than a soccer ball," Mike consoled the girl.
"Now, lets see how wet you are."

With that Mike slid his hands to the front side of the
quivering girl and rubbed his thumbs in her moist cunt. As Mike
continued to fondle the girl, a gurgle sounded from her stomach,
causing her to giggle and pull away.

"I didn't get lunch today. I was kinda indisposed," she said by
way of explanation.

"Well, since your going to spend the weekend as my slave the
least I could do is feed you. Lets see if we can find you some
suitable clothes."

Mike got up and taking the girl by the hand started leading her
to the front of the store.

"What's wrong with what I was wearing?" The girl asked.

"They're nice, but not appropriate for a slave."

The girl stopped suddenly at the door to the front.

"It's okay, the blinds are down. No one can see you."

Leading the girl to the school uniform section, Mike started
looking at the plaid skirts. He figured that a sixthgrade skirt
would fit this slim girl's waist and still be short enough for
his plans. Picking out three different sizes he handed them to
her and instructed her to try them on. Brandi could see that
there was no way the first one would fit, even sucking in her
stomach it was way to tight. Like the three bears, the second
one she tried was too loose. The third one fit just right, at
least for Mike, Brandi thought it was still a bit to tight. Now
for a blouse.

"You're a Bcup right?" Mike asked.

"Yes, but the bras are over there," she said, pointing to the
underwear section. "Along with underwear, if your not going to
let me wear mine."

"No, no. No bra and no panties for my slave tonight. Try this
one," he said, handing Brandi a obviously too small blouse.

Brandi slipped the blouse on and pulled it together to try and
button it. "It's too small," she said with a smirk.

"Tie it. Let see how it fits that way," Mike replied, taking the
bottom of the blouse he pulled the ends together and tied them
below Brandi's tits. Rubbing the sides of her breasts Mike said,
"Yes I think that fits just fine. Your shoes even match your
skirt, besides I know we don't carry any that would look better.
Lets go."

"I can't be seen wearing this. I'll die of embarrent."

"It's dark outside, the shopping center is closed and no one
you know will be where we're going," Mike assured her, once more
leading her by the hand. He set the alarm and pushed the girl
out the door.




Chapter Two A Little Humiliation With Dinner

Mike pushed the girl against his Porsche and leaned in for a
kiss. Brandi resisted as he tried to force his tongue into her
mouth. Mike would have none of that and reached down to pinch
the girl's ass. "Kiss me," He whispered. "The sooner you kiss me
the sooner we can go."

Brandi could feel Mike pulling her skirt up, bunching it around
her waist. She opened her mouth to his invading tongue as he
pinched both exposed ass cheeks. Mike could feel the nineteen
year old squirm as he probed her warm mouth with his tongue.
After a couple of minutes of tongue play Mike opened the door
for the girl and pushed her in.

"Don't sit on your skirt. If you get a wet spot on the back
everyone will know what a slut you really are," he admonished as
Brandi tried to pull the skirt down. Mike left the shopping
center parking lot and maneuvered the sports car through Friday
traffic, heading for the freeway. When not shifting Mike rested
his right hand on Brandi's thigh.

"Um, where are we going?" the girl asked as Mike powered up the
onramp.

"To dinner," Mike answered. "Remember, you get to be my slave
for the weekend and before I take you home we're going to eat."
His hand slipped up the girl's thigh to rest just touching her
pussy.

"Ok, but where? The shopping center is on the edge of town and
your heading towards the foothills."

"Yes, Foothill Estates has a great restaurant. I eat there
almost every Friday."

Foothill Estates was a very exclusive Country Club housing
development. Brandi was sure that she wasn't dressed
appropriately for a posh restaurant and told Mike so.

"You're with me. They won't have any problems with the way you're
dressed." With that his hand cupped her cunt and gave it a
squeeze. "So warm and wet. Good thing your not sitting on your
skirt, the back would be soaked."

Brandi had to agree with that assessment. Ever since the little
striptease back in the shop she had been wet and horny, his
probing finger wasn't helping the situation any. Mike drove the
car with skill, passing trucks and cars as he sped toward the
onrushing hills. Soon he was taking the exit for Foothill
Estates. Three miles off the freeway Mike took his hand from
Brandi's sopping cunt just long enough to hit the remote. The
gate opened smoothly and Mike didn't even take his foot off the
gas as they went through. Pulling up to the restaurant Mike
finally removed his hand from between the girl's legs.


As soon as the car stopped a liveried doorman opened Brandi's
door. She almost squealed when she realized he could look down
and see her exposed brown muff. Standing up quickly and pulling
down the skirt Brandi stepped away from the car. The valet drove
off with the car, Mike took her arm and walked her toward the
door. As the doorman stood holding the door open Mike turned to
Brandi and bent to give her a kiss. Without thinking Brandi
pulled away. Mike just turned and led her into the restaurant
without saying a word.

The Maitre'd met them with a smile and said, "Ah, Michael I
had just about given up on you for tonight and was about to give
away your table. This way please."

He turned around and led them passed two elegantly dressed
couples that were waiting for Mike's table. The Maitre'd led
them to a booth in the back, well away from the kitchen. Brandi
slid into the booth relieved to be hiding her short skirt from
all the men who had watched her walk through the diningroom.
Mike had slid in all the way as the Maitre'd asked if they
would like a drink from the bar. Mike ordered himself a whiskey
sour and the young lady a glass of the house white.

"I can't drink wine," Brandi informed him. "I'm not twentyone.
You could go to jail for buying me wine."

"And you can still go to jail for shoplifting. Now slide over
here next to me." Brandi slid over, before he continued.

"Your sitting on your skirt, lift it up around your waist."
Mike turned into the squirming girl and slid his hand up her
thigh as he kissed her.

Brandi closed her eyes and enjoyed the sensation as Mike
diddled her. She was startled when the waitress, a blonde woman
little older than Brandi, arrived with their drinks.

"Good evening, I'm Amanda and I'll be your server tonight. We
have salmon with chipotle' chile salsa and a nice macadamia nut
seared tuna on special tonight. Do you need a few minutes to
look at the menu?" The waitress asked looking at Brandi.

"What do you think Brandi, the salmon?" Mike asked, Brandi
embarrassed at being caught by the woman just nodded.

Mike smiled before turning to the waitress and gave the order,
"The young lady will have the salmon and I will have your filet
mignon."

"An excellent choice sir." Then looking at Brandi once again she
asked, "Miss, what kind of dressing would you like on your
salad?"

"Um, ranch. If you have it," the still embarrassed teen
responded.

"We have ranch, Dear. I'll be right back with your salads."
Giving the girl a wink, she turned and walked away.

"Oh my god, she saw what you were doing."

Tuning back to the girl, Mike replaced his hand on her thigh
and said, "It's ok, she won't tell anyone. I'm sure she's seen
more than this. Now kiss me again before she gets back with our
salads."

Once the salads arrived Mike left Brandi's body alone. They
talked about the weather, hot, whether Brandi had a boyfriend,
no, and why Brandi wasn't away at college. It turns out that
Brandi's parent's were too rich to get her financial aid, yet
too stingy to pay for her education.

"Um, Mike can I go use the restroom?" Brandi asked as she
finished her salmon.

"Sure, it's back by the kitchen entrance. To the left before
you get to waitress station."

Brandi walked to the restroom, there weren't as many customers
in the diningroom now and only a few heads turned to watch her.
One of the heads that watched was Amanda. Amanda loved to
embarrass girls and Brandi acted embarrassed every time Mandy
would check on their table. Giving Brandi two minutes she walked
into the ladiesroom. Brandi stepped out of the stall and gave a
startled squeak when she saw Amanda at the counter checking her
makeup.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't hear you come in and you surprised me."

"That's okay, are you enjoying your dinner?" Mandy asked. Before
Brandi could reply she continued, "Michael sure seem to be
enjoying his." Running the back of her fingers across Brandi's
cheek, "Of course he has such a lovely young dinner partner."

"The food here is excellent, I can't believe Michael eats here
every Friday though, it's sooo expensive."

Laughing Mandy informed her, "He can afford it. Just like he
can afford you."

"What?" The now blushing teen cried, "It's not what you think.
I lost a bet and part of it is to dress like this for dinner."

"So you lost a bet, and now you have to go to dinner dressed
like a slutty little schoolgirl?" Pressing Brandi against the
wall she slid her hands under the teen's skirt. "Your not even
wearing panties. What was the bet?"

"Let me go," Brandi whispered.

"Not until you tell me what the bet was," Mandy whispered back.

"I played soccer in highschool so the bet was I couldn't hit a
target with a soccer kick twice. I Lost," Brandi told her. "Can
I go now?"

"One last question. Is Michael going to fuck you tonight?"

"God I hope so," Brandi responded as she slid out of the older
girl's grip.


Brandi slid into the booth sullenly, pulling up the back of her
skirt as she did so.

"Why the long face all of a sudden?" Mike asked, she had been
coming out of her shell all evening and now she had reverted to
the quiet girl. Dejectedly she told Mike what Amanda had done
and said in the bathroom. When Amanda came to ask if they wanted
dessert Mike asked Amanda if Brandi had said what the target
was. No, she hadn't, so Mike explained. Brandi was mortified,
Mike was telling this stranger that she had kicked her panties
at him while doing a striptease and hit him in the face.

"So the little slut lied to me? Making me think it was a soccer
ball. You know she should be punished," Mandy said as Mike
finished the story.

"Oh, she will be. Brandi, apologize to Amanda for lying to
her," Mike told the girl, lifting her face by the chin.

"I'm sorry for lying to you," Brandi said to Amanda. Then
turning to Mike, "Can we go now."

"Amanda, was that a sufficient apology?"

"Well since I can't spank her myself I guess it will have to
do. Do you still want dessert, or shall I get the check?"

"Brandi, would you like some dessert? They have an excellent
chocolate cake," Mike asked the sniffling girl.

"No, I just want to go," Brandi pouted, trying to keep the
tears from falling.

"A piece of the chocolate cake to go and the check will be all.
Thank you Amanda."




Chapter Three The Real Punishment Begins

After Mandy had brought the elegantly wrapped cake and bill,
Mike took out a business card and wrote something on it. Leaving
it with the signed guest bill, he held Brandi's hand as they
walked out. The valet had already brought the car around and the
grinning doorman held the door for Brandi as she got in. Mike
put the car in gear and drove out of the lot, heading away from
the front gate. Brandi was just about to ask where he was going
when Mike punched a second remote and pulled onto the grounds of
the largest estate in Foothill Estates. Parked in the garage
Mike went around and opened the door for the still confused
girl.

"This is your place?" Brandi was finally able to ask. "It's
huge."

Looking around the formal livingroom complete with a full sized
grand piano.

"Yes. My father did rather well in clothing and real estate. I
took over where he left off and built it into a very tidy sum. I
keep the shop as a tribute to my father," Mike explained,
leading the girl into a dark paneled office.

Mike placed the girl in a corner and went about getting ready
for the next step. Once he had everything arranged he sat down
in a high backed wooden chair, surprisingly similar to the one
at the shop, and called the girl over.

"Down, lay across my knee, just like before." Brandi complied
with his instructions. "Now, you've earned three additional
punishments in addition to what you were to get for shoplifting.
Are you ready?"

"Why three more? I"ve been doing what you want all evening,"
the girl cried as she lowered herself onto Mike's lap.

"One, you didn't kiss me at the shopping center." Swat. "Two,
you didn't kiss me outside the restaurant." Swat. "And three,
you had to be told to not sit on your skirt at dinner. That's
thirty swats total and they won't be by hand."

Mike lifted the schoolgirl skirt up exposing Brandi's fine
young ass. Starting by massaging the flesh he suddenly swung his
hand and gave the girl three hard swats on each asscheek.
Picking up the leather covered paddle Mike rubbed the girl's ass
with it, then told her to count the strokes.

"If you miss one, it doesn't count," he informed her.

WHACK, Brandi heard the sound then the burning sensation in her
ass started.

"Oww, one."

WHACK, "Oww, two."

WHACK, "Oww. Shit that hurts."

WHACK, "Oww , four."

"No, Brandi that's three you didn't count. Let's try three
again."

WHACK, "Four."

"Brandi, three comes before four."

WHACK, "Three."

WHACK, "Ouch, shit, four."

WHACK, "OWWIE, five. Please no more that hurts."

"Just five more to go then you can take a break."

WHACK, "OWW, six." Tears started flowing from Brandi's lovely
eyes.

WHACK, "OWWW, seven."

WHACK, "OWWW, eight."

WHACK, "OWWWW, nine."

"What was that? I couldn't hear you."

"Nine, it was NINE."

WHACK, "OWWWWW, ten." Brandi was sobbing as Mike put down the
paddle and started rubbing her abused ass.

"So warm, I love to give naughty schoolgirls a spanking. The
red glow of a well paddled ass is so attractive," Mike said as
he massaged her tender butt. "Now, dance for me. Just like you
did back at the store."

"There's no music," the sobbing girl protested.

"Pretend there's music."

"I suppose you want me to strip like at the store?" Brandi
asked.

Mike just nodded his head as Brandi started to sway to the
music only she could hear. Brandi could feel that tingle in her
loins again almost as soon as she started to untie the blouse.
There would be no bra or panties to hide behind or extend the
dance this time. Brandi dropped the blouse with hardly a
thought, her hard nipples sticking out tantalizingly. Mike was
captivated by the young woman's resilience. From sobbing,
punished schoolgirl to sexy strutting slut, just like that.
Brandi fondled her breasts then reached down and flipped up the
front of the skirt to flash Mike. She slowly lowered the zipper
on the schoolgirl skirt and let it fall to the floor. Naked
except for the garter, hose and heels. Brandi was unprepared for
what happened next.

Mike picked up a flogger and gave it a swing. The whip hit
Brandi full on the chest and she almost collapsed as her hands
went to cover her breasts.

"Stand up straight, arms at your side," Mike said commanding
her, with a swat to her already punished ass. "Stand up I say!"

Not sure what she was more afraid of Brandi stood up straight
and lowered her arms.

"Please don't. I was doing what you said."

"Stand still, keep your hands at your side or it'll only get
worse," Mike said.

Brandi didn't think it could get much worse as Mike gave the
whip an gentle overhand swing and hit the top of her tits. Mike
kept up a steady rhythm, working the whip all over the girl's
lovely breasts. Brandi's tits were a nice shade of red and tears
flowed freely down the teen's face when Mike finally stopped.
Sitting back down Mike ordered her to sit on his lap. Brandi
gingerly sat, the pain from the paddling had mostly dissipated,
until she put pressure on her backside. Reaching around to
fondle and pinch Brandi's tits, Mike found that the nipples were
still rock hard.

"You only have one more punishment to go for being naughty at
dinner. Where do you think it should be?" Mike asked sliding
his right hand down through the girl's trimmed brown muff and
onto her cunt.

"No more. Please haven't you punished me enough?" Brandi whined.

"If you take this next punishment like a good girl, I'll put
off the rest of your shoplifting punishment until tomorrow,"
Mike said, still rubbing her sore tits and fondling her cunt.
"Now, walk over to that chest."

Pointing to a huge wooden chest in front of the window. "Inside
you will find some cuffs, put them on. Then come back over
here."

Brandi opened the chest and found sitting on a tray four black
leather cuffs. Placing one on each wrist she started to stand
when Mike informed her that the other two were for her ankles.
Brandi complied not sure what Mike had in mind. As she walked
back to the desk, Mike patted the edge just in front of the seat
and told her to sit on the desk. Sitting she was then instructed
to lay back so her head hung over the far edge. Mike picked up
some short pieces of rope and began to secure Brandi's wrists to
the decorative metal rings that festooned the desk. Arms
stretched out and tied Brandi started to get worried, before she
could have run, now she was trapped. Mike walked to the other
side and lifting the left leg secured it to the desk, repeating
the action for the right side. With the way her legs were tied
Brandi strained to close her knees to hide her pussy from his
view. Mike put a hand on each knee and spread the girl open. As
soon as Mike let go Brandi immediately closed her knees. Not to
be denied Mike used the last two pieces of rope to tie her knees
apart.

"Oww, that's too tight," Brandi complained.

"You had your chance to hold them open."

"Whwhat are you going to do to me now?" the frightened girl
asked straining her neck to look up at Mike.

Sitting down in the chair, Mike just told her to lay back and
enjoy it for the time being. Mike ran his hand over Brandi's
exposed cunt, feeling the moist warm flesh. Sliding a finger
inside her snatch, Mike slowly started to finger fuck his new
toy. As Brandi's breathing changed Mike leaned in to lick the
girl, running his tongue along her pussy lips and flicking her
clit.

"Well he said to enjoy it. Uhm, he eats pussy better than
Meghan," Brandi thought to herself, giving in to the sensations.

Mike could tell the girl was getting close to cumming when he
stopped licking and pulled his finger out. He stood up and
undressed quickly down to his boxers. Brandi could see his cock
straining at the thin material. Picking up the tawse, Mike gave
the insides of Brandi's thighs a few swats. First some soft ones
to her exposed cunt, then continuing a little harder. Brandi was
feeling the pain mixed with something else when she realized
that she was about to cum.

"NO, ugh, ugh, no," Brandi was crying trying to fight the
sensation. "OH GOD NO! PLEASE NO!" she begged, unaware of her own
voice. "GOD I'M COMING!" Brandi convulsed on the desk as her
orgasm hit.

Mike softened his strokes and slowed down the pace as Brandi
came down from her orgasm. Sitting back down, Mike had just
started to lick up the juices flowing from Brandi's d
cunt when the door bell rang. Smiling down at the tied girl he
said, "Don't go anywhere. I'll be right back." With that he
walked out of the room.

Brandi closed her eyes when Mike walked out of the room. She
was still trying to decide if she was hurting from the pain of
being whipped or enjoying the pleasure of her orgasm when she
heard a voice. Brandi opened her eyes to see Amanda looking at
her.

"Well, well, well. Looks like Michael's little subby slut is
being punished," Mandy said as she kneeled down to look in the
girl's eyes. "I bet you thought Michael had forgotten to punish
you for lying to me." Mandy kissed Brandi on the nose.

"I was getting ready to fuck her when you arrived," Mike said
from the door. "Would you mind if I got off before you punished
her?"

"I think I can amuse myself while you fuck your subby slut,"
Mandy replied, reaching under her skirt and pulling her panties
off.

As Mike peeled his boxers off Amanda kissed Brandi full on the
lips, surprising even herself, Brandi kissed back. Mike slid
his cock home into the waiting snatch and started fucking the
young woman. Mandy stood up as Mike sawed in and out of Brandi.
Straddling the girl's face she reached around back and grabbing
the teen's hair pulled Brandi up.

"Lick my pussy, bitch," Mandy demanded. "Come on, be a good
subby slut and lick Mandy's cunt."

Brandi couldn't resist, with Mike fucking her and Mandy rubbing
her pussy in Brandi's face. Brandi started licking, at first
tentatively then with more enthusiasm as Mandy humped her hips
in rhythm with Mike's pumping. Mandy let go of Brandi's hair and
started tweaking her nipples. She could still see the fading red
marks from Mike's whipping. Brandi's nipples responded
immediately to the attention, getting even harder as Mandy
pinched.

"Are you going to pierce your little subby's nipples?" She
asked Mike, as she continued to play with them.

As he pumped Mike responded, "No. I don't want to do any
permanent damage to the girl."

"You should pierce them anyway. I love my pierce tits, they're
soo sensitive," Mandy replied reaching up to cup and pinch
herself through the material of her sweater.

"Let me see them."

Mandy complied, pulling her sweater off and exposing her hard
pierced nipples. She leaned forward so Mike could continue to
pump Brandi's twat as he fondled her tits. Leaning a little more
they kissed, Mike playing with Mandy's tits while Mandy fondled
Brandi's. Breaking the kiss, Mike told Mandy he was ready to cum.

"Do you want me to cum inside her or on her tits?"

"Cum inside her, so I can taste you both," was Mandy's reply.
Without need for further encouragement, Mike let loose a torrent
inside the girl's pussy. Not saying a word Mike and Amanda
swapped ends. Mike pressed his jism covered cock against
Brandi's mouth as Mandy knelt between her legs. Brandi dutifully
licked Mike's cock clean of the mixed juices.

"Umm, yummy," were the first words Brandi had uttered since
Mandy had walked in. "God, that feels so good. Lick me Amanda,
swallow all of Michael's cum."

"So, you are a little subby slut. Just like Amanda said," Mike
said looking down at her.

"Yes, I'll probably hate myself in the morning. But right now
it just feels sso ggooood. I'm gonna cum again." Brandi's
second orgasm of the evening was just as intense as her first.

Amanda crawled up and over Brandi, looking down at the girl
looking up at her she let some of Mike's cum slip from her mouth
and into Brandi's. When Brandi opened her mouth to receive the
gift, Mandy lowered herself and kissed the girl. Tongues playing
they kissed for a few minutes.

"She's being such a good little subby, it's a shame I still
have to punish her for lying," Mandy said as she broke the kiss.

"No, please I'll do anything, don't hurt me anymore," Brandi
cried, wondering if she sounded as unconvincing as she thought.

"Sorry subby. You still have to be punished," Mandy said as she
got off the teen. "Mike, what would you suggest? I don't know
what you've already done to her."

"I think ten strokes with the cane should do it. Untie her legs
while I lower the winch." Mike replied.

Brandi had seen the winch and spreader bar above her but hadn't
realize what they were until Mike started the motor to lower
them. Mandy had her knees and left leg loose, so she grabbed the
end of the spreader and hooked the ankle cuff to it. Untying the
right leg, Brandi soon found herself spread with both legs in
the air.


End of Part one.

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