As I crouched, naked, behind the antique desk in that small shop, the fear of being arrested by the policeman just several feet away pressed on me. I held my breath as I heard him talking to John, the owner, and pushed my hand against myself to keep from peeing, right there. I trembled.
"I'm telling you, Peter," I heard John say, "Gina really loved this when she saw it yesterday. It matches her nightstand perfectly. These tiny drawers are perfect for her weights, and this deeper one could be for her belts or other items."
"Yeah, but she's got too much crap in her bedroom, now." The policeman shook his head.
"Well, if you want to disappoint her..."
"Ah, jeez," he groaned.
"Say, I asked Jess to come by your place later to get those tables and chairs for the party, okay?"
"Yeah, fine. If I'm not there, Gina will be."
Even as scared as I was, my curiosity was peeked, and I wanted to catch a glimpse of the person who pronounced the name Gina to rhyme with Vagina; that intrigued me, I can't say why. I placed my hand on top of the desk to steady myself as I slowly rose from the crouched position to peer over the desk. What I hadn't felt before was that my hand was not solidly on the top of the desk, but on a fragile tray that was awkwardly balanced on other items. As I put my weight on it, the tray went flying and crashed to the floor, its noisy contents scattering hither and yon.
Something must have happened, there must have been some sequence of events between the sound of the crash and my finding myself bent over the top of the store counter, naked butt swaying in the air, hands cuffed behind my back, but I can't remember. I could hear John's voice, and the policeman's, and even Sam's, but the words were blended, frantic, and nonsensical to my ears. I couldn't see the argument; a heavy hand in the middle of my back kept me pressed to the counter, my breasts squashed and flattened, my head pushed to one side, my neck strained. I was scared to death and the urgency to pee filled my senses. I had to hold my breath and clamp my thighs together with all my might.
Eventually the voices became distinguishable one from another, their tone and volume more constant, and they took turns, establishing an order to the chaos. I was able to discern finally that John was convincing the policeman that I wasn't a threat to the established order, that Sam and he were responsible for my state of undress, that the necklace was not stolen, and that the handcuffs should be removed.
As order came closer and closer to being completely restored, the pressure on my back was correspondingly decreased, until finally the forceful pinning became but a gentle touch between my shoulder blades. The heavy hand at last tenderly took me by the arm and lifted me from the counter to help me stand. I saw the owner of the handcuffs clearly for the first time. His guilty, remorseful smile and the sincerity in his regard reassured me. I didn't feel afraid anymore.
It was just another instant before all hell broke loose again, however. Among the shouts and wild gestures from the three men hovering close to my naked body, I was able to comprehend at last that the key to the handcuffs would not work. I began to cry, and tremble, and the flow of urine began with no stopping it. The more I peed, the more I sobbed, and the snot ran from my nose. I felt myself a fountain of tears, snot and pee. My three tormentors looked on me with shock and horror. They were stunned to silence.
They seemed long in coming, but paper towels finally appeared and were spread at my feet, wiped along my legs, and pressed to my nose. Sam cleaned my pussy and inner thighs, pushing them roughly apart. John mopped the floor, and the policeman cared for my face. I had never had so many hands on me at once, but all I sensed was a humiliation like none I'd yet experienced since the beginning of this saga, when my husband undressed me in front of Sam and Jake. As shocking as that first exposure was, and the even more humiliating experiences of public nudity and spankings, not even the humiliation of the anklet's promises itself, nothing could prepare me for what was happening now.
A lace tablecloth about the size of a beach towel was finally wrapped around me and fastened with a paperclip. The beautiful necklace was removed from my neck, but the handcuffs remained. Decisions about my immediate future were made and bargains were struck on my behalf: The policeman would take me to his house to be looked after by his sister while he tried to find the correct key. No charges would be brought against me for indecency if I didn't make an issue about the handcuffs and key, and agreed to cooperate until they could be removed. Sam would call Marc and tell him where to find me on his arrival several hours hence.
The policeman led Sam and me through an alley to an electric cart, apparently the "squad car" of this island hamlet. I was anxious to climb aboard and get going, but Sam just stood me up against it, left me there, and pulled Peter aside for a private conversation. I kept my eyes fixed on the ground, not at all wanting to catch the eye of some hapless passerby, hoping against hope that this humiliating pose in this not-too-secluded area of town would soon end. When Sam and the policeman returned, Sam gently lifted the lace covering my pussy.
"I won't see you again for a while," Sam said, "So I want to kiss you good-bye, as is our custom."
My eyes grew large at the though of what was about to happen and I looked at Peter, seeing in him now an accomplice to Sam's demands and understanding what their conversation had been about. I had no choice but to agree, because one of my promises was that, if he asked me nicely, Sam was always welcome to kiss me "hello" and "good-bye" on the lips. He knelt to my urine-stained crotch and I spread my feet to allow him room. Embarrassed, I turned my face away from Peter's scrutiny. I felt Sam's lips against mine. His tongue brushed my clitoris on his way inside me, in the fashion of the French. Sam's mouth encircled my pussy, his tongue thrusting and recoiling, taking energy from my heat. I did not want to think about what must have been going through Peter's mind as he watched. I shuddered at the thought of his gaze and the action of Sam's mouth.
The kiss went on as long as it could to still be called a kiss, and then I was put in the passenger seat and driven to Peter's house. It wasn't far, and I gasped at the beautiful structure perched majestically on the side of a hill, overlooking the bay. I couldn't believe this was where a policeman lived. He parked on the street and led me up a well-groomed, landscaped path with a series of granite steps. The door was one of those huge double doors with a knob in the center of each side. The place just reeked of old money.
In the entryway a young woman in her early twenties greeted us, having no doubt observed us coming up the path.
"Peter, I'm so glad you came home early," she said with urgency in her voice after only the quickest recognition of my existence. "I need you to take me to the bathroom, okay? He'll be right back," she addressed me over her shoulder as she dragged him down the hall and out of sight.
I just stood there, wondering what the meaning of that was. I wandered into a large room filled with expensive antiques. Original paintings adorned the walls. 'Hum,' I said to myself, 'a person could get used to something like this real quick.'
A telescope stood in the corner, trained at the bay. I couldn't resist taking a peek. In the distance, which seemed very close, I could see Sam's boat. It looked alone, abandoned. I wondered what they were doing, whether Lynn was now sporting an anklet like mine. I pictured her sitting at the café where we had agreed to meet before all hell broke loose. I imagined that her knees were spread according to Jake's instructions, her pussy dripping from the stares of strangers. I longed to be with them, but the thought that I would soon have these handcuffs off and nestled warmly in Marc's chest gave me cause to smile.
Peter and Gina found me in my happy place.
"Is there anything you need before I go?" Peter asked.
"I'm awfully thirsty."
"Gina, get her a coke, will you?"
Gina went to the kitchen.
"Walk with me to the door," Peter said and led me back to the entry. "You'll be fine. I've told her to take good care of you until I get back... Just one little caution: don't ask any questions about our folks, okay?"
"Your folks?"
"That's right. You'll know what I mean if it comes up."
"What?"
"It's just that she gets a little...distraught...when people talk about our parents, and..."
"What?" I repeated, almost shouting this time.
"Shhh! It's fine. Never mind. Forget I mentioned it. You're perfectly safe. But don't talk about the mainland, either. She doesn't like to hear about it and is content to think everybody lives the way we do."
"Yeah, right," I rolled my eyes and looked at the opulence surrounding me. "Anything else?" I asked, my voice dripping with sarcasm.
"Just one more thing: I promised John to bring back his tablecloth."
Peter quickly removed the paper clip and drew the cover from me. I took a quick breath as Gina came around the corner with my coke. I tried to hide behind Peter, but he quickly moved, opened the door and disappeared on the other side. I stared at Gina with the eyes of a trapped animal. There I was naked and handcuffed before this stranger, without the slightest clue what was in store for me.
"I put a straw in it for you, see?" she said, smiling broadly.
"Um, thanks," I said, twisting my body, trying in vain to hide it. "Um, do you have anything I could borrow? To put on?" I'm sure she could sense the agitation in my voice.
"Of course, that's why Peter brought you here. He told me to take care of you, see to your every need. And we certainly can't let you run around like that! You don't even have a belt on for god's sake! Well, we'll get this coke down you, Peter said, and then we'll fix you up. Come on, let's sit down and I'll help you drink your coke."
