Teresa Gets Busted

Teresa Gets Busted Part-1

Crime and Punishment

Teresa had been picked up by the police for a DUI, or at least that was what the authorities had classified it as. She felt that riding a moped around the quaint, European town after two drinks was benign, but now she knew otherwise. Sure, she could have done without the pseudo-crash into a water fountain; fishing her bike out of the water was what drew the police's attention in the first place.

Now, sitting in the police station on a wooden bench with her hands cuffed in front of her, a chain around her waist to make the restraints all the more effective, she explained her situation to her lover. "I know, Raymond," she was frustrated with him and the situation, "I know you told me that we are not in America anymore and to be careful. But now I just have to deal with the consequences."

"And what are the consequences?"

Teresa tried to remove a rogue strand of brown hair that was tickling her eyes but her fettered hands could not reach it. Raymond moved it away for her.

"Three Days in jail with up to three 'public punishments' is what they told me. That, or a month in the slammer with no additional punishments."

Since they were only going to be there for two more weeks, Raymond agreed with her decision to choose the three-day sentence and inquired about the public punishments. He was more than a little bit interested in seeing his woman being punished. "I mean, what are they going to do to you?"

"Not sure," Teresa said and blew upward to displace her unruly hair from her face. "I'm not looking forward to it though," she added.

Raymond couldn't hide the smile that overtook his face. "Fuck you, Raymond. I'm sure you will love it." She was just hoping that she could control her own excitement, depending on the punishment.

"Time to go," a police officer came over to announce in decent English. "Please kneel on the bench," he added, coldly.

Teresa struggled to her knees and then felt the cold steel of shackles being placed on her bare ankles. She was wearing a pair of white, slip-on shoes that would be, without a doubt, confiscated during the booking process. She blushed a little, noticing that Raymond seemed to be enjoying the show and she awkwardly flipped him off.

The officer helped her to her feet and allowed Teresa to give Raymond a peck on his cheek before she was whisked away through a door marked 'Detention Area'. Teresa had never had to walk in shackles before and it was a lot harder than she thought it would be. Under different circumstances, being chained up the way she was would have been a thrill and she had always wondered what it would feel like to be in transport chains. It didn't feel great, but for some reason she didn't hate it, either.

* * * * *

The booking process began relatively normal to Teresa, although her knowledge in the area was limited to what she had seen on TV. Fingerprints were taken, personal health questions asked -all boiler-plate stuff. Then, it got a little strange.

"Remove all of your clothes now, please," a tall female guard commanded.

Teresa began to strip and didn't think anything of it. But then, once she was stark naked, she was told to walk over to an area on the floor where two yellow footprints were painted, and to stand on them. She did as she was told.

"Hands out to your side, parallel to the ground," the guard said. Teresa figured it was at least the five-thousandth time she had uttered those words.

She did as she was told and the guard began to take her measurements with a tape measure - all of her measurements. Her wrists, calves, her waist, neck, hands, feet and even her bust was measured and recorded on a piece of paper clamped to a clipboard.

Once the measuring was complete, the female guard told Teresa to remain standing and to put her hands on her head and to keep her big toes touching. Teresa felt this was a little excessive, but complied with the request as the guard disappeared through a door.

Whatever the guard was doing, it sure was taking a long time and Teresa was beginning to get uncomfortable and her legs were starting to ache. To alleviate some of the discomfort Teresa began shifting her weight from one foot to the other. After about five minutes of this, she decided to spread her feet when a loud, male voice boomed out of an overhead speaker that she had not noticed until that moment. "Get on your belly and grab your right ankle with your left hand and your left ankle with your right hand."

Freaked out by the voice and the immediate reaction of the unknown source to her disobeying the female guard's original orders, she hit the ground and grabbed her ankles.

"We have ways to keep you in this position if you can't keep it yourself," the voice from the speaker informed her.

This position was way worse than standing with her hands on her head and Teresa was beginning to sweat from the strain it was putting her in. Then, that damn strand of hair reared its ugly head and she was forced to try to blow it away, but now it was weighed down with sweat and it wouldn't budge.

After five minutes it was beginning to drive her nuts and without thinking she let go of her right ankle and moved the strands away. Instantly, as if they knew she would fail, a male guard popped in the room wielding three lengths of rope. Teresa knew what was coming.

Fuck me, she thought.

Swiftly, the man trussed her hands behind her back and then tied her ankles together. Then, in a twist Teresa was not expecting, he tied a rope to her ankles, passed it through her bound wrists, then passed it between her thighs and then parted her wet and swollen mound with the nylon braid. Finally, he secured the loose tag around her belly and cruelly tied it off. She was stuck!

The man did not say a word before, during, or after he skillfully tied her up but he did make sure the rope beneath her was well in her pussy by giving it a sharp tug. Then he exited the room.

Five minutes into her bondage the pain began to set in to several areas including her wrists and ankles. This, she could tolerate but she feared that the burning in her shoulders might become a problem. Teresa discovered that she could reduce the strain on her ankles by moving her legs closer to her bare ass but this position was hard on her knees and could only be held for a short time. Then, to relax her knees she was forced to pull the rope taunt again. All of this movement caused her crotch-rope to rub back and forth in her pussy and it was beginning to make her even more wet.

It could have been twenty minutes or nearly an hour; Teresa had no idea how much time had passed when she began to softly moan. This was partially due to the extremely strict bondage she had been subjected to and also to the pleasure she was giving herself by working the crotch-rope back and forth. It also became evident to the prisoner that several knots had been tied into the rope that passed through the lips of her pussy. This had a two-pronged effect: painful rubbing and added pleasure. She could only handle about five more minutes of the clit rubbing before she had to succumb to the powerful orgasm that had been steadily building in her loins.

The results included pools of sweat and cum that Teresa was forced to wallow in until the female guard finally returned.

"Did you enjoy yourself?" the guard said, observing the pools on the cold cement floor.

Too exhausted to look up, Teresa mumbled an inaudible response that not even she could understand.

Teresa's ropes were mercifully cut off by the guard and then she helped her to her feet. When the prisoner attempted to rub some feeling into her rope-marked ankles she was told to put her hands on her head, big toes touching. Teresa obeyed immediately.

Once the American prisoner regained her bearings she verified that in the heap of rope at her feet, one of the lengths had three large knots tied into it. The guard had brought a bottle of water into the room with her and held it up to Teresa's mouth. With her hands still propped on her head she guzzled down more than half of the bottle.

"That was quite a show you put on there," the guard told her. "You lasted longer than most prisoners do."

Teresa was far from flattered and shrugged her shoulders.

"Prison togs," the guard informed her, holding out a stack of orange clothes. "Dress, shoes, bra, panties and a punishment suit," she offered in the way of explanation.

"Can I put my hands down, ma'am?"

"Yes you may."

Teresa grabbed the stack of clothes and was told to put on the punishment suit. After sorting through the stack it became obvious what the 'punishment suit' consisted of; it was basically a one piece bathing suit with horizontal black and white stripes on it. The suit was, however, distinctly unique in that the part of the suit that runs beneath the crotch could be detached from the back and then snapped back into place. It looked like a larger version of what babies wear for easy access during a diaper change. She put on the suit and discovered that it fit really tightly and its low-cut front showed plenty of cleavage. Teresa's C-cup breasts also tested the integrity of the stretchy, itchy fabric. The guard seemed to be pleased with the fit of the suit and told the prisoner to strip again and put on her normal, prison clothes. Teresa did as she was told and as she was sliding her feet into the orange shoes she wondered if her hogtie was considered one of the 'public punishments' and so she asked.

"Afraid not," was the guard's succinct reply. "You'll be taken to the town stocks tomorrow."

Town Stocks? Teresa wondered to herself. Those crazy wooden things that you see at Renaissance Fairs?

"Some time in the stocks will make you think about drinking and driving again," the guard promised.

Handcuffs were tightly placed on Teresa's wrists but this time there was no belly-chain; her hands were pinioned behind her back and the guard wadded up her punishment suit and jammed enough of it into Teresa's mouth to insure that it would stay there.

Teresa was then marched to her cell being led by her elbow. It was going to be a long three days.

Forced Orgasms

That night Teresa enjoyed her evening meal at a small desk in a cell that she occupied by herself. The food actually tasted pretty good and she was surprised that a bottle of Evian had been given to her to wash it down. Her cell was of moderate size with a small window that looked out the back of the building, down upon a bustling cobblestone street. It had a metal toilet against the back wall and a single cot was placed against the side of the cell. As jail conditions go, this didn't seem too bad.

Teresa found it interesting that her area of confinement seemed to be isolated from any other cells and prisoners. Even during her walk to her cell she did not see another prisoner at all -it seemed odd to her. She set her nearly licked-clean metal tray on the slot of the metal-barred door to her cell and within thirty seconds a guard came by and grabbed it. This prompted the prisoner to survey her surroundings for hidden cameras. She could not detect any.

Teresa sat down on her cot and waited for the boredom to set in, which didn't take long. She started thinking back to the day's activities and got her wheels stuck when she came to the bondage incident during her booking. How in the world had she given herself such and intense orgasm? Raymond and her had dabbled with some simple bondage in the bedroom but the effects on her libido were extremely limited when compared to what had happened that afternoon. Perhaps it was due to Raymond's ineptness at tying her up that any past bondage efforts had fruitlessly sputtered. Raymond's knots were either so poor that she would have to be careful not to break free or they were so tight that the immediate numbness in her limbs would send Raymond scurrying for something sharp to extricate her.

Without realizing it, Teresa began to finger her pussy underneath her dress, but was instantly stopped when a different female guard appeared at her cell door and inquired about the prisoner's understanding of the prison rules. "Those ones right there," she pointed through the bars to a laminated sheet of paper sitting on the desk. Teresa had given the rules a cursory glance but had in no way studied them. "I...don't..."

"Rule five," the guard snapped. "No prisoner shall pleasure herself while incarcerated."

Teresa had nothing to say for herself and again searched the skies for surreptitious monitoring equipment.

"Get naked again, Teresa, and stand in the middle of the cell with your hands on your head. Big Toes together. You know the drill."

The prisoner sprung up and began to shimmy out of her dress, and wondered why the guard had called her by her first name.

Her shoes were the last thing to come off and the guard instructed her to fold all of the clothes and put them on the cot. Teresa neatly folded and stacked the orange garments and placed her shoes next to them. Then she assumed the requested position in the middle of the cell.

It's surprising how uncomfortable it can get, having to stand in the same position with your hands on your head. The devilish caveat being that Teresa had to keep her big toes touching at all times: this prevented her from spreading her feet to relieve the stress in her lower back. Teresa also realized that when you can't scratch an itch, that itch becomes ubiquitous upon your entire body which becomes maddening, if you cannot block it out.

This time, Teresa's failure occurred when she lost her balance and stumbled slightly while she was bending her knees in an attempt to get some feeling back in her feet. It was no surprise to her at all when the guard appeared at the cell door.

"Put your punishment suit on, Teresa," she said coldly.

Teresa sighed, and then put on the tight-fitting one-piece.

"Back into the position," she commanded.

Teresa did as she was told and eagerly anticipated what was coming. Another hogtie? That wouldn't be so bad...

The same guard who had bound her up earlier in the day appeared at the cell door and keyed his way in. The door swung open to the inside and upon entry, Teresa noticed that he was not toting rope this time but, instead, there were several pairs of handcuffs draped over his belt. Also, in his big right hand, he palmed two items that she did not recognize.

"Spread your legs, Ms. Teresa," his deep voice ordered.

The submissive prisoner did as she was told and then the guard undid the snaps located on the back of her suit, just above her tailbone. It didn't take too much fingering by the guard to get Teresa's pussy wet and then, from behind, he inserted what felt like metal balls into her. She would later discover that these were actually Ben Wa Balls.

"Over here, Ms. Teresa," the guard ordered, and guided her by her bare shoulders towards the corner of the cell that the door had been swung towards. "Have a seat behind the door, please," he said, as if he were ordering a cheeseburger from a drive-through.

When she sat down on the cold concrete she became acutely aware of the metal balls in her pussy. The sensation was stimulating and she felt blood rushing to her cheeks.

Then came the bondage. Teresa was told to put her feet through the bars and sit Indian-style.

She obeyed and the guard then cuffed her ankles to the adjacent bars, having to pull on her feet slightly so that the short chain on the cuffs would reach. Then she was told to stick her arms through the bars and give them a hug. She did it, and her wrists were cuffed in a similar fashion to her ankles.

Satisfied with his work, the guard gently shut the door as Teresa's ass dragged on the cold concrete, causing the Ben Wa balls to stimulate her cunt. Then, he reopened the gate and carefully swung it open again sending the metal balls back into a clattering vibration as her ass skidded along.

"Forgot something," he said.

Teresa waited as he fastened a black blindfold over her eyes and tightened it up with a knot behind her head. Then he slowly closed the door again, effectively reactivating the Ben Wa Balls.

All of the stimulation was driving the prisoner absolutely crazy, nearly to orgasm. But now that she was just sitting there, tightly tethered to the bars the sensation had quelled. The female guard returned and stood before her, her footsteps much lighter than those of the male guard. "Are you comfortable?" she snickered.

Teresa replied sarcastically: "Yeah, extremely."

A quick, whizzing sound followed by a sharp sting to the sole of her right foot made Teresa squirm against her cuffs. Then came the same sound and stinging to her left foot and she squirmed again -the metal balls were back in action!

"You love orgasms so much, let's throw you in the briar patch," the female guard said. "You've got three minutes to make yourself cum, starting right...now!"

Being restrained the way that she was made it a challenge to get much movement from her hips. In order to gyrate enough to get the metal balls to stimulate her pussy, the prisoner had to test the limitations of her chains. She finally got into a rhythm and a loud clanging sound echoed throughout her cell and the adjoining hallway; the prisoner was oblivious to the noise.

Teresa was unaware of how much time she had left to get herself off as she pounded her pussy against the bars. Then, all at once, the euphoric rush consumed her body, an orgasm that ripped through her from her shackled feet to her blindfolded eyes. "Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck!" Teresa wailed, and then let out a moan before collapsing backwards, her feet and hands aching as the chains pulled to keep her upright.

"Not bad," the female guard complimented the prisoner, "and with forty seconds to spare."

Teresa could not speak; her breathing was too heavy to produce audible words. Finally she was able to utter another: "oh...fuck."

The guard let her drink heavily from a cool bottle of Evian and told her she could rest for five minutes. Teresa wondered what was coming in five minutes and then she was told: "Now, you have to hold your orgasm for ten minutes."

Teresa didn't think that would be very hard at all until another device was introduced. Teresa hadn't noticed this before, but the punishment suit contained a pouch sewn onto the inside of the crotch area. Into this pouch is where the guard inserted a device of some sort, sticking her hands through the bars to find it a home. Teresa found out later that it was a type of Hitachi Wand.

The guard turned on the device and it immediately started to vibrate. "Good luck!" she said and walked off.

The Man Behind the Curtain

Raymond was chilling on the king-size bed in the hotel when the eagerly anticipated package was delivered. He tipped the bellman and returned to the bed where his laptop was. He unwrapped the package and promptly popped the DVD into his computer. Before letting it play, he read the note that came with the package.

Dear Sir,

I hope you enjoy what you see here on the DVD. As promised, we did not injure the prisoner in any way.

I am not at all concerned about you getting your money's worth for our services.

Ms. Teresa will be on display tomorrow from noon to two o'clock at the village stocks which are very easy to find- Everyone in town knows where they are. I have enclosed a map, should you need it.

Also enclosed is a remote control that you will find useful tomorrow; please do not forget it when you come to see your precious Teresa publicly punished. Unbeknownst to her, you will be remotely controlling her vibrator during her ordeal tomorrow afternoon.

Sincerely,

JPB

Raymond pulled the tiny remote control out of the package and tore off the bubble-wrap that protected it.