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By Deputy Duffy (stonedog99_1999@yahoo.com)


You are led into a brightly-lit room, squinting until your eyes adjust. The door slams shut behind you, in a startling thud. A sudden feeling of aloneness becomes you.

Your eyes scan the strange environment, first focusing on a metallic steel table in the room's center, bright reflections of light bouncing off, in all directions. You're instantly uneasy as to its purpose.

You stand on a small yellow line, which runs about two feet long, just in front of the table. Your eyes scan upwards at the two cameras pointing down, small red lights blinking. Your reflection suddenly catches your eye. You move in front of a small mirror, on the far wall.

You've seen enough Cop-Shows on TV, to know that it isn't there for you to do your hair and make up in. Feeling of loneliness gone now, its quickly replaced with an uneasy nervousness, as you suddenly feel like a fish, swimming in a small fishbowl.

You're drawn to the ominous steel table, as much as you don't want to, you reach out and touch the tables surface, shivers run down your spine, just from the coldness, while its smoothness is your next observation. You contemplate sitting, but opt for leaning, as you nervously wait.

Time seems painfully slow, as your mind races back to the events that led you to this point. There was the office party, the couple glasses of wine, the missed red light, the flashing blue lights, the young deputy, the botched field sobriety test, the pleas of innocents, the not so quick pat down, the cold cuffs, the cramped back seat, the ignored pleas for mercy.

Your mind suddenly shifts its focus to your husband, your two kids, your best friends, your boss, your coworkers, even your favorite high school teacher. Suddenly a judge appears before your eyes and pronounces your guilt. Your eyes shift around and their all there, their faces filled with disappointment. A feeling of deep shame floods through your body, tears well in your eyes, you curse your stupidity, over and over.

Time drags on and you do your best to regain your composer. The black door suddenly swings open and the young deputy returns, carrying a clipboard. You take one last chance to pronounce your innocents, but he ain't buying it and you can only assume that he has heard it all before, even at his tender age.

Your eyes find that yellow line on the floor, only now you've been instructed to stand on it. Feet in place you nervously stare at the young man, as he leans against the steel table now, only a couple of feet away.

Your eyes meet, you can hardly breath from fear, fear of the unknown. He barks a simple five-letter command that sends shivers down your spine, as your worse fears are realized. You can't move, it's as if you don't understand the simple words meaning, but you're an educated woman, you even know a couple of ways that Webster defines it as. You now it means to deprive of possessions or to divest of honors, privileges, or functions. But deep down you know how he really means to use the word, which is to remove clothing, covering, or surface matter from.

And that from, is you.

The deputy snaps to attention, startling you even more, as he again orders you to Strip. You plead your case one more time, but you know it's futile. You look down at your outfit, instantly wishing you weren't dressed to party.

It suddenly dons on you to ask for a female deputy, surely he didn't except you to disrobe in front of him, you plead, almost proud of yourself for thinking of it. His only response is unsettling, seems there's not a female to be found, no he wants you naked alright, naked for his eyes and right now.

You stand your ground, until he brings up the sheriff, which shakes your bones, as you know all to well about his reputation. Your hands quickly slip off your best vest and hand it over to the deputy. You watch as he quickly searches it, and simple drops it on the cement floor. If he knew how much it costs he wouldn't be so carefree with it, you remind him, but he just chuckles.

You know you've only just begun, but you can't stop from shaking, as a bead of sweat drops from your forehead. The deputy's tapping foot and hungry blue eyes aren't helping. After contemplating your next move, you unzip your skirt and let it slip down your legs, carefully stepping out of it, before handing it to the deputy, and it too is dumped on the cement floor. Your blood is starting to boil, as he awaits your next move, still tapping his foot on the floor.

You reach up to undo the top button of your red silk blouse; it's color matching your cheeks. Your hands tremble, making the simple task, difficult. One button and then the next, all while knowing how exposed this is going to leave you to his waiting eyes. You also can't help but to think of just how many other sets of unseen eyes, are on your strip show, as well. You muster up all your courage, and spread the two halves open.

After you've given the command, you quickly slide your arms out of it and hand it over. He just treats your fancy blouse like a rag, balling it up, before tossing it down. Your eyes focus longingly at your growing pile of discarded clothes, now strewn on the dirty floor.

His eyes return and you instinctively cover your body with your arms, as you realize your underwear selection of a small frizzy peach colored bra, small matching panties, garter-belt and white mesh thigh high stockings, were meant for your husband's eyes and not his. You feel your fancy heeled shoes are too sexy for your currents dilemma, but he wants them on.

He suddenly starts barking out orders like a drill sergeant and you reluctantly follow. You soon find your hands interlocked behind your head, elbows back, legs shoulder width apart. You can only pray it's over.

Your heart pounds, as he slowly circles you like prey. He complements your bra selection, as he runs his fingers under the straps. You squirm from his smooth touch and his slimy personality. You watch him carefully, as he moves in front of you. Your face flushed with embarrassment, as he pulls the front of your bra away from your breasts, like he wanted a sneak preview, before he asks, rather rudely, for you to remove it.

Anger envelops you, as you plead your case, and you resist the slap in the face that you yearn to deliver. Guys have been trying to see your tits since you were a teenager, and at 35 you still haven't got used to it, their hungry eyes devouring them, seemingly always focused on them. You notice he's no different, when you unsnap your front latch and slid it off.

Your bra joins the pile, as you quickly cover your naked breasts with your hands, trying to retain some modesty, although you know by the look on his face that he has seen the pose before. Your hands are back behind your head in no time, your breasts on full display, to the young man's eyes.

Your erect pink nipples add to your embarrassment, but it only gets worse, as your are soon lifting your breasts up by them. Then, following another command, you start shaking them back and forth, while leaning forward. His actions so juvenile to you, you're only surprised he didn't make you jump up and down.

Back in position, you join him and look down at your source of embarrassment. Your usually proud of your ample breasts, but unlike many, you took more pride in the fact that you had made it this far in your career, without using them to your advantage. Today, you wish you were flat as a board.

You also wish you had left the garter-belt and stockings at home, as well, as his eyes shift to your lower body, but he wants the panties next. You had prayed that when he saw your breasts, it would be over, but deep down you knew that he wouldn't be satisfied until he saw all of you, all of you naked.

You pull the thin bows that hold your delicate panties together. You suddenly feel like a virgin again, as the feeling of taking off your panties, your last line of defense, is unnerving. You look to him for mercy, but he is anxiously waiting for them, hand extended.

You sniffle like a scolded child, as he barks at you, until you hand them over. Your hands immediately take there place, but not for long as they are behind your head, once again. You cringe as you slowly turn your body around for him, every side, every angle, all his for the taking, all because he wears a badge.

It's time for his next command. You have to unhook your garter belt from each stocking and then roll them down each leg, not really getting the straight legs command, until you feel your breasts swaying heavily from your chest. Before you can react, you have a small feeling of relief come over you, as you are ordered to roll your stockings back up, and re-attach them, as you figure this is the start of your redressing processes.

Your relief is short lived however, as his next command startles you. You can't believe your ears! He wants you up on the steel table, up on all fours, like a puppy dog. He even snaps his fingers at you. You just shake your head, whimpering, until a sharp slap to the ass, sends you scurrying. You feel helplessly naked. It's like out of your worst nightmare. You are now under his thumb. Your higher education, your status, now all meaningless.

You slowly climb up on the table that now feels colder than it did before, your burning flesh, your reasoning. Humiliation pours through your body, as he pats you on the head, when your into position, which is one that you would never even let your lover put you in.

He gives a lewd command, which hits like a punch to the stomach. A teardrops falls to the table, as you spread your legs apart, for his eyes, when he moves behind you. You quickly find out that it's for more than his eyes, as you feel his fingers first touch on your well trimmed pussy, which causes an alarmed lung forward, and a violent protest.

A strong-arm guides you back into place and the fingers quickly return. You close your eyes in shame, as the strip-search moves to a cavity-search, which leaves you aghast. You feel your pussy lips being manipulated, gasping in horror when his finger and thumb, pull you open.

A finger, maybe even two, find their way inside of you, twisting and turning. Your shame turns to a feeling of violation, as your pussy suddenly feels full of fingers. You squirm about, until they suddenly retreat, as if he has finally listened to your pleas.

You suddenly hear the unmistakable sound, of a rubber glove being snapped on. Your head snaps around in disbelief, but he confirms it verbally, your anus is next. A strong arm to the back sends your chest to the table, you squeal, as your breasts squash down on the cool table. The coolness sending shivers through your already emotional drained body.

Your mind inexplicably races back to your first rectal exam, done in your mother's doctor's office. Her old doctor's finger, doing the honors. The humiliation you felt that day, not even close to what you feel now, as you think about the simple fact that at least the old had a medical degree and not a cowboy badge.

You feel his finger break your seal, quickly snapping you back from your mind's journey. You cry out for mercy, as his finger presses on, nothing in your 35 years has prepared you for today, as your back to your whimpering ways. His finger twists and turns, until it finally withdraws and you crash down on the table, an emotional sobbing wreak.

You're given a wet nap to clean yourself up, but you mistakenly use it to clean your tear-ridden face, and with some passing time, your slowly regaining your composer. You suddenly notice him standing in front of your face, his uniform pants doing little to hide his excited state. You scamper into a sitting position, composer lost again, violently shaking your head, fear seemingly shaking the rest of your naked body.

You listen as the indecent offer is made. At first you're aghast, as you're explaining that your no whore, but when turns to leave, you surprise yourself by begging him to stay. You look at the clock on the wall, and know that you are expected home, any minute, time is fast becoming your enemy. You slip off the table; you realize that you have only seconds to make a mammoth life changing decision.

You nervously laugh, as you remember that it took you a half an hour, just to decide what shoes to wear tonight. Your mind battles with the pros and cons, but untimely you let a firm hand to the shoulder, be your excuse, as you find yourself kneeling on the cold cement floor, right in front of the young man. His excited crouch, only inches from your face.

You know it's a solution to your problems, as perverse as it seems to you. You only hope you have the strength to deliver your end, praying that you will be able to live with yourself, evermore.

You reach up with trembling hands and unbuckle his belt and pants, noticing for the first time that he wasn't wearing his gun-belt. He crosses his arms, seemingly satisfied with letting you do the work. You unzip his fly, the metal scratching sound causing you to shiver. You work his pants down carefully. When he steps out of them you toss them aside, but you wonder if it has anywhere near the same significant to him, as your pile of discarded clothes, did to you.

When you look up, you cringe at the site of his tented boxer-briefs, more at what the harbor. You even contemplate changing your mind, as you grab his waistband, but you muster up some courage and pull the material down and off. You stare at the floor, afraid to look up again, at what surely faces you now, so you close your eyes and gingerly let your hand find his hard cock, cringing at its first touch.

You try to retain your composure, as you guide his hard cock to your mouth. You start by sucking on the engorged head, like a inexperienced schoolgirl. You can tell just by the stretching of your jaw, and your fingers that he is bigger than you hoped. You manage to take a quick peek and your eyes confirm it. You try not to be impressed, as you cover your teeth with lips and start moving up and down the shaft, all with a whimper.

Your mind strangely flashes back to the last time you did this, in your mind, perverse act. It was way back in college and only to join the sorority you pledged. You still remember it all to well. For initiation you had to submit a picture of a hard cock, in your mouth, from a complete stranger no less. Finding one in college, wasn't that difficult, although it was extremely humiliating.

The stranger wasn't happy with just the picture however, as he held your hair, fucking your face, until he came in your mouth. Your sorority sister, seemingly more interested in taking more pictures, then helping you out. You destroyed most of the pictures she took, but not all. The picture of you with cum dripping from your lips, got you into that sorority, but its whereabouts, still haunts you to this day.

You're suddenly startled out of your trance by the deputy's hips driving forward, in a face fucking like maneuver. You quickly pull back, as it's eerily familiar. He let's you know that he's not happy with your performance so far, and that times not a factor for him.

You suddenly remember your plight and vow to do better. This time you attack with more gusto, and more hand, but it's quickly pulled away, and your left with just you lips and tongue to work with. You finally find a rhythm, as you think about anything but what your doing.

Trying to focus more on why your doing it. A palm to the forehead however, has you looking up into his eyes, as you suck his cock. You wonder how his beautiful blueeyes could harbor such wickedness.

You continue sucking, until you are suddenly pulled to your feet, with a swift motion. You are lifted back onto the steel table, this time however you're on your back, the cold steel sends, Goosebumps a traveling.

Defeated, you lay on the table, trembling with feelings you seemingly had never felt before. Terror and a strange anticipation await, as you brace for insertion. You feel your legs spread apart and you hold your breath, as he rubs his cock along your well lubed pussy, before he slowly enters you.

You struggle with your emotions, as you don't want to give him the satisfaction. He lifts your legs, up onto his shoulders. His awkward early strokes, quickly replaced with smooth aggressive ones. Your head swirls, as you fight with your body's reaction, even try to stop the moans and squeaks from slipping from your mouth, with every deep thrust.

You close your eyes, but it doesn't last, he seemingly wants your eyes, as much as he wants your body. He wraps your legs around his waist and picks up his pace. Your breasts suddenly attract his attention for the first time, as he squeezes them in tune with his deepeningthrusts. You nipples are next, as he rolls them in his fingers, their sensitivity level not helping the squeaks of pleasure.

He suddenly turns you over, you have a panicked moment, as your feet hit the floor, but he thankfully finds your pussy once again, as you sigh. His thrusts however seem harder and deeper in this position, your sigh, replaced with a squeal. You quickly fill with mixed emotions, as you feel like a cheep whore, bent over the table like so, as he pounds away, and as an added bonus, you even have to groan, "Fuck Me Boss," over and over, per his request.

His actions are unlocking waves of pleasure however, that are becoming increasingly harder to ignore. You suddenly remember that it's been over ten years since anyone but your husband has had your pussy. It's also been years since he had fucked you in such an unbridled manner. You feel ashamed that he can make you feel things, your husband can't.

You try to put it all out of your mind, but when his hand reaches around and starts rubbing your clit, it's impossible. Your tears return again, as you surrender to his lustfulness, your ! head swims in euphoria, if only so briefly.

His cruel words snap you back to reality as he brags about his prowess, but before you can fret about that he presses his cock against your lubricant dripping anus, causing you to scream out a panicked plea, as you quickly spin around, with fear filled eyes.

You find your way to your knees again. His slimy cock quickly finding your mouth, as you opt to take the lesser of two evils. You realize as repulsing as this act is to you, and as repulsed as you are that you can taste your own juices, you must. You also now know that you will do anything to avoid an ass fucking. You will even suck and lick his balls, as you find yourself doing, following his next order.

He wants you to beg, beg to suck his cock. Your voice quivers as you beg. When he gives you his permission, you give it your best try so far, but the task is not a simple one however, as the young man insists on using his hard cock as a tool of humiliation. It's being slapped against your face and extended tongue, as an added insult he wants you to beg again, beg for his cum. You finally, after much trepidation, give up the last remaining grain of respectability you have left and beg him to cum, cum on your face.

First however, you have to return to your cock sucking ways. All too soon, your jaw aches, your knees are raw, as your inexperience has hampered your efforts at a speedy conclusion. Your slurping and drooling ways, adding further embarrassment. He finally finds your hair a helpful tool, in guiding you, in the right direction. You start to panic, as his increased body movements and audible moans let you know that his climax is fast approaching and thankfully he finally stops his face fucking.

While you catch your breath, your left, eyes opened, mouth agape, tongue extended, just like a puppy dog awaiting a treat. You suddenly see and then feel the first blast as you flinch away, but a handful of hair keeps you in place, as the remaining syrupy fluid finds its mark. His slimy cock presses against your lips and then finds its way back into your mouth. You gag on the salty covered treat, until he is finally satisfied that your part of the deal is completed.

With one eye plastered shut, you are led across the hall into a bathroom. Afraid to even look in the mirror, you splash water on your face, before you soap and scrub it clean. You also take the opportunity to wash out your mouth as well, as the aftertaste is less than pleasant and is also a painful reminder of the dastardly deed, you just performed. You finally look into the mirror, almost ashamed of the reflection looking back.

Your clothes are suddenly dumped on the floor at your feet. You dress in world record fashion, before being led to the back door, only thankful that he lived up to his end of the deal. A pat on the back, sends you out the backdoor. Your eyes light up when you see your car.

You almost find it funny that he has no problem with you driving now. You quickly make your getaway, all while vowing never to drive in this part of Vermont again. You also know that you have a lot more, than one little picture, now to haunt your everyday.

The End