Cathy had a hard time telling exactly just how much time had passed since she was placed in that dingy, cold and sterile cell. It could have been half an hour, it could’ve been half a day. She had no means of determining anything, which in hindsight was sort of the point of jail. She had no phone; it had been confiscated during the search; she had no watch either; she wasn’t wearing one.
In fact, she wasn’t wearing anything at all when she was arrested by the cops on that roadside, save for the heels she had on, the oil on her bare skin and the handcuffs they kept her in till now – likely to humiliate her further.
In all likelihood, she was probably called on by a bystander who spotted her. Imagine the public’s surprise at the sight of a curvaceous 42-year-old lady wandering about naked on the street, her skin glistening in the oil she covered herself in. The oil itself made her naked state indefensible and it wasn’t as if she could claim she was attacked. Oh no, this lady was for all intents and purposes a definite pervert, and the police were about to make full use of the situation.
The cops who caught up to her weren’t buying her babbling excuses for one second and slapped handcuffs on the poor girl, her gleaming nakedness for all to see as she was pushed into the backseat, staining the leather with her oily skin. One thing was for sure, though: the station had one hell of a night when the naked Cathy graced the nearly derelict building, adding much needed excitement to what had been a slow weekday night.
“We got an exhibitionist! Lady Godiva!” yelled the officer as he paraded her through the holding bay as the rest of them applauded and whistled. Cathy didn’t know what was so funny about the Lady Godiva joke he kept repeating since he arrested her, even calling her that on the radio while on the drive there. At least Godiva had her hair to cover herself with, while poor Cathy had to contend with her bob haircut that did little to cover anything beyond the nape of her neck.
It only dawned on her just how awful her situation was as they hauled her into the charge office by her arms held behind her back; both officers and detainees fixating their gazes upon every inch of her naked glistening body; the harsh lights above highlighting every inch of raw flesh as her slightly sagging breasts bounced about in her futile attempt to resist being dragged ever forward. Cathy was utterly vulnerable and ashamed as she felt the lustful gazes of the male detainees in the cell, some of them howling and whistling like wolves.
“Knock it off! Keep it in your pants, horndogs, you better shoot off anything in there or I’m gonna make you drink it up!” yelled the officer beside her at the detainees as he pulled her toward the desk.
“Put her in here officer, she can drink mine up!” yelled the detainee as Cathy’s face grew red from sheer embarrassment.
“Behind the red line at all times, Dolly Parton!” mocked the officer as she slowly inched toward the frayed red tape on the cold hard tiles. It wasn’t that her ankles were cuffed or restrained physically at all; the poor girl was just too embarrassed to open her stride any wider, pathetically attempting to safeguard the last bastion of her modesty that was her dripping wet pussy.
It was made worse by the fact that all eyes were on her, especially the judging glare of the female charging officer at the desk. Her face betrayed a mixture of disgust and jealousy as Cathy could feel her scanning every inch of her lewd body. She didn’t even have the option to cover her bits with her hands – they kept the cuffs on her wrists since they brought her in, and they made damned sure to restrain her hands behind her back to further expose her for all to see.
“I don’t suppose you got any sort of ID on you, huh?” asked the female officer sarcastically. “You just gotta stand there and answer my questions then.”
After what seemed more like a round of jeopardy than a questioning, Cathy could hardly remain standing any longer from the overwhelming embarrassment. How much was one lady supposed to take? She felt light-headed and dizzy from standing there butt-naked in her heels, her body still dripping with a mixture of sweat and oil everywhere she stood.
“Cal-state, huh? You’re a long way from home,” said the female officer snarkly. “You’re gonna have a hard time getting bail or a lawyer on hand, so you better think about anyone you can call in the next hour or however long we’re gonna hold you. Hope you don’t get too cold.”
“Can’t you give me something to wear? A raincoat at least?!” pleaded Cathy as she was escorted through the door.
“Lady, with tits that big you’re lucky if we can find a tent big enough for each of them. Now shut up! You have the right to remain silent, and undressed!” said the male officer with a cheeky chuckle.
After putting her through a breath test and a very humiliating mugshot session, came the “strip” search – as far as it can be considered one at this point – where she was inspected by another female officer who liked her no better than the last. She was made to step out of her heels – the only thing she had worn to barely protect the soles of her feet – and was now fully nude. It was a strip search, after all.
“What were they planning on finding? It’s not as if I have any pockets…” she thought to herself, being too scared and ashamed to say anything as she stood there while the lady cop checked under her sizable breasts for any hidden objects in continuing their ritual of humiliation.
“Bend over!” commanded the female officer as she pulled out her flashlight from her belt. Cathy had little choice but to obey the order, rendering herself totally at their mercy as she bent over as best she could with her arms still cuffed behind, totally exposing her pussy to her violators.
“Any STDs? Chlamydia, HIV, Herpes, Gonorrhea?” barked the lady officer as the male one behind giggled.
“I’m clean…” answered Cathy disdainfully at the insulting question.
“You sure about that or you just can’t remember what you got anymore? Walking around ass-naked in oil like a slut free-for-all? Maybe I should’ve asked you what you don’t have,” joked the female cop mockingly as Cathy bit her lower lip, on the verge of tears at the humiliation. She felt the warmth of the light from the officer’s torch as they inspected her cleanly-shaven pussy – outside and inside.
“Goddamn (She’s bald down here…) I gotta say I admire the landscaping, lady. Enjoying the breeze huh, Godiva? Look at that, you can drive a semi through, hahaha!” the officer joked to her colleague back there taking in the view, as she told Cathy to stand back upright.
“Did she have anything on her when you brought her in? Besides johnson & johnson?” asked the female cop to the male one. “Just an old phone. It’s some nokia, probably a burner. Got a few texts on it while we drove her in,” answered the male cop.
“Burner phone? Oooooh now you’re getting really interesting, lady. Take her to the holding cell, and don’t try anything Romeo, we got cameras all over the place,” directed the female cop.
Cathy should’ve expected her captors would supply her with a burner phone. After they essentially abandoned her on that roadside with no instructions but to walk as far as she could along the cold Nevada road as the sun set.
The oil she had on was the only layer of protection against the elements; her heels were allowed on so she could protect her feet, which also served the dual purpose of preventing her from running. Otherwise, she was threatened to remain completely nude.
She wondered if all this was a part of their game, like the beach incident last time. Whatever this was, she was in deep shit for real and it had gone way too far. There was no way she would be getting off lightly for this. This was potentially the worst-case scenario for any exhibitionist who walked on the edge for their thrills; being up to the mercy of the police, who by now brought her to an empty cell, locking her in still in her handcuffs.
The earlier humiliation she endured faded away as she was left alone, allowing her some time to absorb the gravity of her situation and ponder on just how far she’d sunk from being a responsible mother and member of her community – even if it was all just a lie.
Barely a day ago she received yet another dreaded text from the man she only knew as Lazarus. The mysterious man she’d met on a webcam had blackmailed her earlier that year, threatening to release the smutty photos she’d shared with him, publishing everything online with her name and face. The only way she could’ve resolved that was to do as he asked, however long this bond was to last, however deep he’d wanted her to dive – and he had returned to summon her for a new adventure.
Her mistake was letting him in on her exhibitionist kinks, and indeed Lazarus was a master at crafting situations forcing her to live out her wildest and most daring fantasies – whether she liked it or not. As she shuffled her bare feet on the dusty cell floor – still in handcuffs which she was certain was NOT part of protocol – to the latrine on which she planted her wide, liberally-oiled butt to take a piss, it became too clear how deplorable her situation was. She felt like a dog in a kennel, and like a dog was whimpering quietly to herself as she relieved her bladder, the dripping sound echoing loudly in that quiet cell.
-Two Hours Later in the Holding Cell-
Being a California native, Cathy wasn’t too familiar with Nevada state laws on arrests. Whatever the case may be, though, she was pretty certain she’d been in the holding cell for more than an hour by now; no doubt being kept like a zoo animal for all the officers to see and ogle. Why wouldn’t they either? It’s not everyday you get an attractive middle-aged naked lady covered in oil handcuffed in a bare cell.
“They’re enjoying it. Bastards!” she thought to herself, as she crossed her legs in a futile attempt to safeguard some modesty on that hard steel bench. Several of the cops were deliberately making rounds by her cell more than what seemed usual or necessary, some of them even muttering snide remarks as they did, like “Whore” and “Skank”.
“At least I don’t have to share this cell with anyone… yet. Urgh God!” she thought to herself.
It wouldn’t be too long before one of the officers – namely, the one who brought her in – approached her cell with the keys in hand.
“Hey, Free-show. Look alive, step up! I got a proposition for ya,” he yelled to her as she stood up slowly, understandably confused and wary. Cathy had a really bad feeling about this, as there was a look of unbridled lust just brimming over in his eyes. Compared to what was done earlier, how much worse could this night get?
“Look here Godiva, you’re gonna do us a favour. Those guys in the cells you saw earlier? I want you to get them off, and then when you’re done with the scumbags… You deal with us officers. I don’t care how or how long you do it – make sure each man in here blows his load. Got it?” said the officer.
“WHAT? NO, how can you- YOU’RE CRAZY! You’re police officers! You’re gonna pimp me out to everyone here? That’s Rape!” exclaimed Cathy, visibly far more anxious than embarrassed now upon realizing just how little chance she had fighting back in her situation.
This was as bad as it could get, being passed around as a cumdump by the police. How was she going to protect herself; who polices the police, after all?
“Now you listen to me: the moment you came in here, you got everyone excited. Every guy in this building’s got a raging hard-on for that ass of yours now. If we don’t ease tensions here, we’re gonna have a fuckin’ insurrection on our hands and lady, it’s just one step away to something really ugly and people are gonna get hurt. You wanna be in that situation, in the state you’re in?” explained the officer.
“This is unbelievable! How can you – this is Rape! How can you do this to me? You’re passing me around to be gangbanged, how can you do this?!” exclaimed Cathy, tears running down her face.
“Lady. You were out there on the road butt ass nekkid covered in oil looking like one of those girls in a rap video. You KNEW what you were getting yourself into here. It was only a matter of time for things to escalate for an exhibitionist like you. You. Fucking. Wanted. This. Whore,” he retorted to Cathy, still sobbing to herself.
“You don’t think I know this is what you perverts get off on?” he continued.
“…It was…It was supposed to be… just a game… He had my pictures… I couldn’t say No…” pleaded Cathy.
“Oh yeah, I know. We checked your texts. You’re in some heavy shit huh? Well, guess what, you make your bed so you sleep in it lady,” he said.
Cathy looked up to him with tears in her eyes, silently pleading with him not to do this.
“You’re far from home, California, and this ain’t a hotel. You’re gonna be the station whore for the night, then you get your phone call. Consider it… Bail Bond…” he said.
-Continued in Part 2-