0 comments/ 11504 views/ 2 favorites One Question By: Dreamvigil First submission, go easy on me... This isn't an attempt a real "story" but just an attempt at a vivid and realistic description of a fantasy of mine. Written for a friend, names have been changed to protect the not-so-innocent. _______________________________ "OK.. let me see, If we were to meet in person, what would we do???" If it were totally up to me? Well, that's all I can really answer, being that I can't read your mind and I'm sure you would have ideas of your own. But left up to me to decide, here's what we would do... We'd meet secretly at my apartment, with my roommates conveniently out of town. I'd invite you inside, and then immediately kiss you once, twice, thee times, very softly on your lips. I then take your hand and lead you to the couch, and sit down next to you, and kiss you once more, this time deeply, passionately, until we are both a bit out of breath. You admonish me to slow down, secretly hoping I won't. I smirk and agree, then lounge back onto the couch, and instruct you to stretch out on your back and lie your head in my lap. I say that I know you are a little afraid, and that it's ok. "Tell me." I'd ask. "Tell you what?" you reply, a little confused. "Everything." With that we would talk about our hopes, our fears, our dreams lost, achieved and still to be realized. All the while I continue to admire you, caressing your face and stroking your gorgeous hair. More and more hungry to touch you I let my hands wander, first to your neck, and my fingertips, ever so lightly on your throat, to feel it move and hum while you speak to me. Then your shoulders and back of your neck, massaging you. Closing your eyes, you tell me how good it feels. I tell you to come with me, and I will give you a real massage. Taking your hand I lead you to my bed, I tell you to lie on your stomach and cover up with a towel that I hand you. I close the door to give you time to undress while I get the massage oil and a couple of candles. Returning, I quickly strip off my shirt and light the candles. Without a word I spread some oil, first on my hands then onto your back. Rubbing slowly, firmly and deeply I would start where I left off, on the back of your neck, down to your shoulders across your back. I fold the towel down, almost agonizingly slow. When my hands reach the top of your bra, I lean up over you to whisper for you to unhook it, so I don't get oil on it. You do, discarding it to the floor, giving me a tantalizing first peak at your breasts in the process. And I continue down, folding the towel as I go, working slowly toward your buttocks, pausing on occasion to plant a gentle kiss on your newly oiled places on your back. Then just as you are beginning to wonder if I'm going to discard the towel entirely, I start to work my way back up, along your sides, causing the muscles in your stomach to give the ticklish quiver that they sometimes can. When you giggle in response, I rub deeper, and the quiver turns to pure pleasure, and your giggle becomes a soft moan. I continue up, across your ribs, climbing up to straddle you as I do. As I reach the exposed sides of your breasts I slow down even more, savoring the feeling just as much as you. I lean down to shower light kisses up your spine as I move up your body, still rubbing the light oil onto you, farther inward until I'm completely cupping your breasts, feeling the nipples harden against my palms as I rub is intoxicating, and you let out low mmmmmm... sound of pleasure from somewhere in your throat. As my mouth reaches the delicate spot on the back of your neck where your hairline begins, I alternately kiss and lick my way across your neck and shoulder. You turn to embrace me and I pull away, saying that I haven't even started on your legs yet. You feign outrage at being teased in such brutal fashion, but your smile and sensual tone of voice betray your true feelings. I take your feet individually into my hands, one at a time, cupping them with my fingers and using my thumbs, to massage them, deeply at first to chase away the tickle, then lighter. From toes to heel, at the bottoms of your feet get a once over, then back again. I move up to your calves, pushing my fingertips from your Achilles tendon upwards to the back of your knee, then I lean down and kiss you there softly and I again spread oil on my palms. I start going back over your your calves, one at a time and slowly this time, using both hands to knead and massage them. As I finish your calves I put one hand on each, and spread your legs. As you turn to look back I climb up into a kneeling position in the spot between them I made for myself just a moment before. Pouring a line of oil down one leg, I reach up and fold the towel up to the bottom of your cheeks. This gives me my first look at the panties you have on, and comment to you on how naughty they are, and tell you to remind me later that I owe you a spanking for being such a naughty girl, but first, I must continue your massage. I start rubbing the oil in little semi-circles up your thigh, then massage you in alternating up-down strokes along the length of your leg, then in-out around it. I start low and work up back first, then outside of your thigh, then inside. As I go higher on the inside I spread my knees a bit, which in turn forces your legs apart, little by little, to give me better access to the sensitive areas I'm working on, progressively closer to your butt and panties. As I reach the top of first thigh I go around the outside of your hip first, finally removing the towel altogether, then along the back of your thigh, just below the line of your panties. Back to the inside close, so close to your pussy. My fingertips touch the edge of your panties, then I sense it, for the first time I know what I had suspected for a while, you are wet already; very wet. I reach under between your legs with my fingers, all the way up and cup your entire mound with my hand, and you instinctively arch your back pressing up against me as you let out the deep breath you hadn't realized you were holding. I drag my hand up lightly pressing my middle finger on the center of your panties as I do, pushing them slightly into your slit. You moan your approval and for the first time I seriously consider cutting my teasing massage short, and fucking your right then, but as hard as my cock is, my willpower is still stronger. I grasp the waistband of your panties with my fingertips then slowly pull them down, you lift your hips to assist me as I slide them down, and I lift your legs, scooting back to remove them the rest of the way. Without being told to do so you quickly spread your legs back to the position they were in moments before giving me a perfect view of the treasure between your legs. Resisting the temptation to dive for it I force my hands to go back to your other thigh, and repeat the procedure I used on the other. Slowly I ascend, making you wait for it and you moan lightly in response. When I finally reach the apex again, you arch upwards at me again, and I can at this point smell your arousal, nearly driving me crazy with lust. I reapply the oil to my hands and begin to massage your butt cheeks, firmly, up and down, then in circles causing a delicious friction to build between your legs. I reach under you with one hand, like before only without the panties to obstruct this time. I drag my fingers back up, stopping when middle fingertip is just over the hood of your clit, and I slowly start to move it in a light circle there. This causes you grab up the pillow you have your head on, and bury your face into it, moaning loudly, but then I stop. As before I drag my middle finger through the center of your sex, pushing lightly into your slit as I do, gathering some of the wetness there. This time I bring it up to lips to taste you for the first time. First with my tongue, then the whole of my finger goes into my mouth to suck off what I just drew out of you. I moan in pleasure and jump back off the bed, and start stripping off my pants and boxers. "Turn over." I say in a voice hoarse with lust as I climb back onto the bed. I crawl up till we are face to face, covering your body with mine. You can feel my hard cock against your body as I begin kissing you. Your hands reach down to find it, to guide it into you. "Not yet." I say between deep tongue kisses, my hands roaming over your whole body as I begin to kiss down your neck. Finally my right hand comes to rest on your mound again after exploring your breasts, side, belly and butt. I start to rub you there as I imagine you would yourself, still kissing and licking my way around your breasts, and reflexively bucking my hips, slowly grinding my cock on your writhing legs. After as long as I can stand to wait I move my mouth away from your hardened nipples down your breasts and over your belly, still kissing and tounging the whole way, and still rubbing your pussy from your flowering opening up to your clit again. Then my kiss on the space between your hips and your mound makes you shiver again, but without the giggle this time. You are too aroused. I look up and smile as look down at me, and I drag my tongue toward the burning center of your lust. I start slowly, with just the tip of my tongue, with the most gently of pressure over your clit. Not directly on it, not yet, but just moving it back and forth in it's cute little hood. I hear your sharp intake of breath as the sensation hits you, causing you to arch your back and throw your hands over your head to grasp the headboard of my bed. As I continue, ever so slightly increasing the pressure, you pull your knees up and spread yourself even wider, desperate make it easier for me to give you this pleasure. I wrap my left arm around your left thigh and bring my right hand to your pussy lips, spreading them wide open, and I start working my tongue down your sweet cunt lips, lightly this time down your inner lips to the bottom of your opening, now flushed and wet with your arousal. I work back up, deeper this time, dragging my tongue up your pussy slit toward your clit. I linger there until you moan again, more pressure than ever this time. As you start bucking your hips I move down again, taking away the intense stimulation from your clit, I don't want to you to cum just yet. I go deeper this time, loving your unique taste, on the way down I teasing your pee hole slightly with the tip of my tongue, before I bury it in your cunt, pushing it in as far as it will go. tongue-fucking you. I continue and allow myself to become more and more wild with my desire for you, my cock leaking so much precum it has it's own little puddle near the foot of my bed. I get even wilder going down on you, licking you all over. As I slip my first two fingers into your cunt, you are so wet that it makes an audible sound as they slide in, your juices run down my hand and down the crack of your ass. I go back to lavishing your clit with my tongue as I start to finger fuck you. We are both moaning as I assault your clit with the whole flat of my tongue, moving my fingers first just back and forth, then curving up inside you, seeking out your Gspot, that I hope will set you off like a firecracker. I hear your moan change as a result of the unexpected new sensation from inside your pussy, and I home in on that spot, increasing the firm but gentle pressure of my strokes. I change from just licking your clit to sucking it, increasing the pressure as I feel you nearing your well deserved release. I unwrap my other arm and move my left hand down over the space between your cunt and your asshole, and as you start to come I push there with the back of my hand, in a firm rhythmic pressure trying to time it with the contractions of your pussy. You start bucking almost wildly as you cum, so much so that I have to hold you down to continue sucking furiously on your clit. I want to you feel it all, more than ever before as you scream my name. I finally abate my sucking as your orgasm wanes, your legs drawing up tight from the sensitivity of your clit. I withdraw my fingers from your pussy put them straight into my mouth, hungrily sucking on them. My needs are at their peak, maybe more than ever before as I rise to my knees above you, my cock standing out angrily as a bead of precum drips from the swollen head. I look down at you, arms and legs still clenched to your body from the powerful release you just felt, face and chest flushed from cumming so hard, your nipples erect and standing out. You look overwhelmed with sensation, a broad smile on your lips and a dreamy look in your eyes. You look so happy and yet so incredibly vulnerable. Looming over you I feel so powerful and masculine, more than ever before. "I need you... Now." I say, while you half sit up, reaching for my throbbing cock. You grasp it, smearing the leaking swollen head with your fingers and thumb, you take a taste back up to your mouth, smile, and lean towards it. "No, I need to be in you, I need... I want to fuck you." And you realize, all this time that I was teasing you, tormenting you, that I was also tormenting myself. You see me overwhelmed with the ache for release you felt so strongly only moments ago. In my eyes you see pure animal lust. I see you lie back with a look of wonder on your face, moving your arms above your head and spreading your legs instinctively. Presenting yourself to me, to be taken. I lean over you lining my cock up with your pussy opening, still soaking wet. I push forward into you, bearing down with some of my weight onto you, and my cock slides home. The feeling is indescribable, tight and warm, a perfect fit, like a tailored silk glove accepting the hand it was made for. "Oh God... Sarah..." I moan as I begin to move my hips. I won't last long, we both know it after that incredible bout of foreplay, I'm just too far gone to hold back. My pace intensifies quickly as you start to moan. I lift up a little, hooking my arms under your knees and lift up to get a better angle. The effect is intensified for us both, and I close my eyes to savor it. You reach down to your clit with one hand and turn your head to the side as you begin to pant. "Oh... Sarah... fuck..... uhhhh...." I say as I continue to fuck you, harder. "Cum for me Jack.... cum... in... me..." you half whisper, half gasp to me as I pound your cunt with my cock for all I'm worth. You wrap your legs around behind my ass, hooking them together as if you were trying to force all of me into you. Suddenly my hips lock, bottoming my cock out inside you, holding it there for a moment; then a quick half-stroke back out then in to the hilt again, and you know I'm cumming. You reach up to my shoulders and pull me down to you, to kiss the hair on my chest frantically as you buck your hips with me, grinding your clit on the base of my shaft, and to your surprise you feel yourself cumming yet again. The sensation is overwhelming for both of us. As my orgasm slows I feel you in the midst of your own and force myself to resume stroking, hoping to make it better for you; I go as long as I can until the sensitivity on my dick becomes to much and I have to stop. Both of us spent and breathing hard, we start to laugh from the pure joy of the powerful love making we had just shared. I start to move and you stop me, saying "No, please let's just stay like this for a little while." I turn your leg down, cock still inside you and softening quickly, and lay behind you, arms wrapped around you, into the spoon position. Pressed together with one of my hands on your breast and the other nestled in your pubic hair, with your hands on top of mine, we both sigh, and rest. Savoring the afterglow together. After a few minutes you begin to notice my hands aren't sitting still, I'm caressing you yet again. Wiggling your butt against me you moan, "What are you doing now? Already?" I lean up and suck your earlobe for a second, and say "Not quite yet, but soon. You know Sarah, baby, there's something you can do for me that will have me hard even faster..." You turn to me smiling a devilish grin. "I never thought you'd ask." you say as you slide down my body, throwing the blanket over you shyly as you prepare to go down, and suck my cock back to life. One Question Too Many INVESTIGATIVE JOURNALIST TERRI LONDON WANTS AN "INSIDE LOOK" AT THE SHERIFF'S OFFICE. BUT THEN TERRI ASKS ONE QUESTION TOO MANY... Terri London sat in the parking lot of the Sheriff's Office, reviewing her notes. She was a tough reporter, but she knew that this assignment was different. And she was determined to get an "inside look" at the Sheriff's Department. So she read over her questions one more time: Q: As you know, Sheriff, racial profiling is very controversial. While the record shows that you search Oriental, Caucasian, African-American, and Hispanic women in equal numbers, the record also shows that you only search women. Furthermore, you always search attractive women between the ages of 18 and 45. You have been quoted as saying this is your "target criminal population" for drug smuggling. Why is this group searched while others are ignored? Q: Most of the women were detained for routine traffic stops or the violation of arcane or archaic ordinances. Yet 100% were strip searched and cavity searched. Is a cavity search ALWAYS needed? Q: Given the large number of searches you perform, shouldn't your department invest in hiring a female deputy to conduct them? Q: Is it true that you conduct a large number of the searches personally...or watch while the searches are being performed? Q: The women are routinely frisked before the search. A number of them have complained about being "groped" by you or your deputies during this procedure. Since each of these women was given a body cavity search, was the "pat down search" necessary? Q: Several of the women I talked to reported that you and your staff smiled lewdly at them or made derogatory sexual remarks, such as referring to their "titties," "honey-pots," or "tight little asses." They also report that you made a big show of snapping on the rubber glove and applying lubricant prior to the search. Is this treatment necessary? Q: The strip search area is visible from both the office and the men's cellblock. There is also a large picture window that is adjacent to the street. Although there is a shower bar, there is no shower curtain. The net effect is that anyone in the station house can watch the entire admission procedure. A number of the women complained that people passing by on the street stopped to watch though the front window as they were stripped, showered, and deloused. The examination table actually faces the street, so that, when the women put their feet in the stirrups, "their juicy gashes" (as you call them) are facing the pedestrian onlookers. How much would a set of curtains cost? Q: You use a speculum during your searches, and you've have been quoted as saying that "it isn't a real search unless you get an inside look," and "I want to see pink!" Is that an accurate quote, Sheriff? Q: The strip search area is filled with video cameras. In addition, the women are made to pose for their mug shots in the nude. A few of them have complained that you forced them to assume a large variety of poses during this procedure, almost like a pictorial, and that the pictures were later published in sleazy adult magazines. What happens to the arrest photos and videos when the women are released? Q: A number of the women complained that they were slapped hard on their bare buttocks during the search procedure, and that you routinely punctuated your commands to "spread 'em" or "bend over" with hard slaps to the naked fannies of these women. You have also been known to "tan" female prisoners across their naked buttocks with a belt when they "sassed" you. These are proud and liberated adult women. Are spankings really the only way to maintain order? Q: In a number of cases, the women were ordered to their knees to perform oral sex, and, when they refused, you turned them over your knee and spanked them until they complied. Is this criminal assault, or, as you have claimed, "just teaching some snooty bitches a lesson"? Q: I've been told that when a female is particularly attractive and accomplished, you arrange to send her to the "prison farm." Besides picking cotton, the women are also forced to work as prostitutes at truck stops along the interstate. They are forced to cater to the large population of truckers, hobos, farmhands, and illegal immigrants in the area, sometimes servicing dozens of men nightly. How do you respond to these charges? Q: Women sent to the prison farm claim that you denied them their phone call when you arrested them, and that they were denied phone and mailing privileges at the farm. They also claimed that you denied them the chance to have a lawyer or a trial, and that you sent them to the prison farm by signing a "sentencing form." Is this legal? Q: I'd like to talk to you about a few specific cases. FBI agent Susan March said she wasn't surprised when you made her surrender her gun and badge before entering the cellblock. But, after locking her things in a drawer your deputies forced her submit to a full cavity search. Then they showered and deloused her in full view of the criminals she was there to interrogate. The day before, her male partner hadn't even been frisked when he visited, and he was allowed to keep his gun and badge. Why was Susan strip searched? Q: In what your department referred to as "a regrettable case of mistaken identity," State Supreme Court Judge Janice Fields was strip searched and transferred to the woman's prison farm when she became separated from her VIP tour group here at the jail. Judge Fields is one of the most accomplished and respected jurists in our state. Why did she have to spend a week working on a chain gang dressed in just a t-shirt, sneakers, and denim shorts before her true identify was determined? Are the rumors that you forced her to work evenings at various truck stops really true? Q: Principal Wendy Johnson recently brought three of her high school students down to the jail when she caught them spying on their female gym teachers in the locker room. The boys were 18 years old, and she asked you to charge them. Instead, you arrested HER for "interfering in police business" and then strip searched her while the grinning boys watched. Was it necessary to issue the boys rubber gloves, and let them help with her search? Q: Recently lawyer Denise Smith claims that she visited the jail in order to give one of her clients a bottle of prescription medication. Her visit was less than 2 days after Miss Smith had successfully represented your wife in her recent divorce action against you. Although the judge had authorized Miss Smith to give her client that medication, she claims that you arrested her for drug smuggling. She says that, after stripping her butt-naked, you made her do the "titty bounce," ordering her to jump up and down repeatedly to make sure nothing was concealed under her breasts. Then you made her do squats and "the frog walk" for almost 10 minutes in order to "loosen any concealed objects." She was forced to spend the night handcuffed naked in a cell with several drunken hobos you had picked up out by the train tracks. After a full night of what you referred to as "sucking and fucking," you marched Miss Smith through the court house stark naked with her hands still cuffed behind her back. She says you paraded her slowly and brazenly in front of all of her friends and colleagues. You marched her to the judge's chambers on the fourth floor, claiming that you needed to "verify her story." Wouldn't a phone call have been sufficient? Q: Sara Watkins, President of New Possibilities Software, claims that you strip searched her after she came down to post bail for a friend. Professor Cindy Blake claims that she was arrested and strip searched when she complained that her neighbor's stereo was too loud. A local CPA claims that you strip searched her after she called to report that her purse had been snatched. What do you say to your critics when they charge that, in this town, pretty young professional women are afraid to report crimes, because they know that they will be arrested and strip searched while the perpetrators are let off scot-free? Terri got out of her car and started toward the jail's front door. She was wealthy and successful, and it showed. In her expensive charcoal gray business suit with its fashionably short skirt, she looked every bit the professional career woman, but somehow she knew that wouldn't impress the Sheriff very much. The Sheriff had refused her numerous interview requests, and he was openly contemptuous of her journalistic credentials. He wasn't impressed with her Master's degrees, her national reputation, or her Pulitzer Prize, either. It was only after she sent him a photograph of herself that he agreed to a meeting. He adamantly refused a phone interview, insisting that Terri meet him at his office so that she would be "under his jurisdiction." Terri stopped to check her reflection in the large picture window next to the front door of the Sheriff's Office. Through the glass window she could see the steel exam table. The polished metal stirrups gleamed under the bright lights, almost daring her to come in. Next to the exam table was the brilliantly illuminated concrete shower area. "How humiliating!" she thought. These proud, wealthy, and educated young women having their dignity stripped away from them because the Sheriff wouldn't spend $3 for a cheap plastic curtain! It was terrible to stand there in front of that window. But, though she would never admit it to anyone, somehow it was also strangely...exciting. Terri pressed her nose against the glass to get a better look. On the table she saw a shoddy black plastic carton with a white tag on the front. She squinted, trying to read the writing on the tag. As her eyes adjusted, she was just barely able to make it out: LONDON, TERRI 5875-4844-8789 She was confused. Why was HER name on the carton? She had requested documentation from the sheriff; maybe he had gathered together some research materials and put them in the carton so it would be easier for her to carry. Looking at the carton more closely, she saw it was totally empty. If it was going to be used to give her something, then why was it empty? Terri suddenly remembered something Justice Fields had told her, and she looked up the passage in her notes: Since they were sending me to the prison farm, they made me put everything...in the crate: clothes (including bra and panties), jewelry, money, identification... everything. They even took my contact lenses, telling me that I wouldn't need to be literate in what they jokingly referred to as "my busy new career at the truck stop." The guard told me that the crate was going to be shipped to a storage locker since I "wouldn't need anything anymore." It was a cheap plastic crate. It was black and had a small white tag with my name and prisoner number printed on the front. When they took the crate, I cried, because it was like they took my whole life away. ****** Terri felt her throat go dry and her pulse quicken. It HAD to be a mistake! After all, she was a respected journalist, and she was there for an interview. She looked at the table again, hoping for a clue. Next to the carton was a small cardboard box with the label, "ACME PLASTIC GLOVES, ULTRA-SHEER, 200 PAIR." Terri shivered as she thought about what the sheriff used those gloves for. She looked again, straining her eyes to read the label on the small jar next to the gloves. She swallowed hard. It was lubricant. On the floor next to the shower, there was a large green canister with chemical warning labels on it. And it wasn't a fire extinguisher. A short hose ran from the top of the tank to some device that looked like a powerful spray gun with an adjustable nozzle. Terri looked it over carefully. She was mortified when she suddenly realized what the tank contained. It was the delousing fluid. She had been thinking about this place for weeks, but the reality was worse than she had imagined. At the Sheriff's insistence, she had brought every scrap of evidence she had gathered along with her and had not told anyone about the interview. Unfortunately, if anything happened, no one would know where she was. Terri was usually a very confident woman, even cocky, but looking at the shiny steel stirrups and the ominously empty carton with her name on it was chilling. She glanced at her watch and then regarded the picture window again. Her timing couldn't have been worse. The local newspaper had mentioned that there was a game tonight, which meant the varsity football team would be getting out of school early. She knew that, in a few minutes, the horny 18-year-olds would be crowding around this window, hoping to catch a free show, hoping to see some unlucky young woman stripped naked and forced to put her dainty feet up into those pitiless steel stirrups. Terri stared fearfully at the cheap black carton with her name and number already shamefully plastered across the front. They had left it carelessly displayed in the front window as if it were a trifling matter, a small part of just another routine processing procedure. Then she looked back at the icy steel stirrups. She glanced nervously at the shiny brass doorknob on the front door. She thought of the hundreds of pretty young professional women just like her who had opened that door and walked into the humiliations that waited on the other side. Once you went through that door, there was no going back. Were her questions good enough to get the full story? Would she really find out what was happening to the pretty young professional women in this town? What was the true story behind the "work details" at the prison farm? Terri looked at the portentously empty milk crate with her name on it. It was clear that the Sheriff was willing to give her the whole story, if she were brave enough to rise to the challenge. Taking out her pen, she very nervously wrote down her last two questions: Q: Sheriff, one of the tail-lights on my car is burned out. Do you know of any service stations in the area where I might get it fixed? She paused and took a deep breath. Then she wrote down her final question. Q: Do you know whether I've violated any laws by driving around your town all day with a broken tail-light, Sheriff? Terri put her hand on the doorknob and turned it. She was confident that this final question would get her the "inside look" that she so wanted. The only problem was that the Sheriff was going to get an "inside look" as well. Terri cringed as she heard the school bell ring in the distance. * Edited by C. Lakewood One Question Too Many Redux This is a sequel to another author's story "One Question Too Many" if you haven't read it there's a quick description here. What you missed: Terri London is an investigative journalist who scored an interview with a corrupt sheriff who had arrested and strip/cavity searched almost every woman in town, some were even sent to a "prison farm" to be sex slaves. At the last minute she decides to add a question to her interview that is an admission of guilt to get an "inside look" at what is happening at the station. xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx Terri London entered the sheriff's office with a box containing all her evidence in her case against the corrupt sheriff. Resting on top was her notebook containing the hard hitting questions she felt would break the case. As she entered the front room was occupied by two deputies waiting for her. "Ms. London, the sheriff has been expecting you, welcome," one of the deputies said. The other spoke, "Let me help you with your belongings ma'am." He reached forward and took Terri's box from her with her notebook still resting on top. "Wait sir, my notebook," Terri said with concern. The deputy shot back quickly, "Don't worry ma'am the sheriff just wants to review your questions before the interview." The deputy who took her belongings walked away and disappeared behind a door. The one who remained addressed her kindly, "Ma'am I've been instructed to show you some of the new tech we've gotten, if you'd be interested." Terri figured that she should get as much information as she could so she accepted his offer. She went with him as her led her from the front room into a smaller side room with various cabinets on the wall. "This is the first device we recently began stocking," he said as he presented a collar to Terri. She didn't understand, "How is this new tech?" The deputy smiled, "Why don't you let me show you," he reached up and secured the collar around Terri's neck, she allowed him to. The collar was wrapped twice around her neck with Velcro, and had two small metal prongs that slightly dug into her neck. Terri still wasn't sure what this is about, "What does..." that was all she was able to get out before an electric shock stifled her. The deputy gave a smile, he knew she wasn't really hurt just surprised. "You see ma'am, many of our prisoners have been very vocal about protesting to routine procedures. This was the sheriff's idea, it's one of them collars they use to train dogs not to bark. We're implementing them as standard procedure." Terri couldn't believe this; they were using dog training tools on women after they were unfairly arrested. She didn't have her notebook, so she made a mental note to remember these tools. The deputy went on, "to show you our next tool, I will ask you to tilt your head back and gently close your eyes." Terri wasn't sure to expect but complied, figuring she had come this far and needed to go further yet. The deputy gently placed his right hand on her face with his thumb below her eye and index finger above it. He very slightly spread his fingers opening her eye; with his other hand he placed a contact lens from the tip of his finger onto her eyeball. Terri remained still as the deputy repeated the process with her other eye. "There you are ma'am," the deputy said, instructing her she could return to standing normally. Terri put her head back and opened her eyes, she saw only black. "Those are state of the art black out contacts, they'll render the user completely blind and are guaranteed not to slip out of place," the deputy explained. All of the sudden the door opened, it was the sheriff. The deputy addressed him very respectfully, "Sheriff, I was just showing Ms. London some of our new tech as you instructed." Terri addressed him, "Sheriff, I'm..." she had forgotten about the collar she was wearing. This is not how she thought she'd be meeting her adversary, blind and mute, needless to say she was at a disadvantage. She reached up to remove the collar, but felt a pair of strong and rough hands halt her own. The sheriff spoke, "that won't be necessary ma'am, and in fact I think we'll be leaving that on for now. This interview has turned into an arrest. It seems Ms. London has a total disregard for our traffic laws, she felt she could operate her vehicle with a burned out tail light." Terri was expecting this to happen, but not like this, she thought she would at least get to ask the sheriff her questions first, but he addressed none of them. Terri was led, blinded and unable to speak into the examination room, the room she so desperately wanted to see. This was not how this was supposed to happen, Terri had allowed herself to be arrested to get an inside look at what was happening to the women in this town while asking the hard hitting questions to bring the sheriff down, but now she saw nothing of the operation or was able to ask a single question. The deputy, at the sheriff's instruction stripped Terri. She could not see or speak, and was able to mount no resistance or protest, it seemed this "new tech" did its job. She allowed her blouse to be removed, and her pants to be taken off. Instinctually she put her hands to cover her private parts, the sheriff would have none of this. Terri's hands were cuffed in front of her, as the deputy finished undressing her. Terri could say nothing as she felt hands guide her over to the exam table so many women were forced to submit to, she would be another victim of this cruel device. It was awkward getting Terri into the chair, as she was blind and cuffed, but with the deputy's assistance she was quickly in position, her legs were in the stirrups, her cuffed hands were brought above her head and the center chain of the cuffs was secured into an lock at the top of the chair keeping her arms above her head. Straps were brought across her ankles, thighs, stomach, and shoulders. She was unable to move at all. "Well, well, well, my little blind bandit," the sheriff addressed Terri, "my deputies went through your box of supposed evidence against this department. I don't feel you have much of a case, and have instructed my men to shred and burn every scrap of paper you brought here today, along with your clothes, belongings, and all your forms of identification. As far as I and the rest of the world are concerned you are Prisoner 5875-4844-8789." Terri cringed, she couldn't stand this she had to speak out, "This isn't..." is all she got out before her collar shocked her into silence. The sheriff laughed; as he approached Terri's bound body, unable to see she wasn't prepared when he placed his hand between her spread legs on her vagina. The sheriff, from the vast number of females he had arrested was quite experienced with the female anatomy, he used his index and ring finger in an outward and upward direction to part her labia while simultaneously lifting her clitoral hood. He used his remaining middle finger to slowly encircle her clitoris, a low moan is all Terri could manage without setting off her collar. The sheriff took note of her reaction, "Good girl, you're learning." "You see Ms. London," the sheriff went on as he removed his hand from her, "normally when a woman such as yourself commits a crime I like to give them a little slap on the wrist, I know you know this from the examples you had in your notebook. I like to consider myself a fair sheriff, and as you have decided to bring this fight against me, I have decided to respond in turn." The sheriff called to his deputy, "Bring in The Excavator!" One deputy hurried to the supply closet, while another spoke to the sheriff, "Sir, are you sure, we haven't fully tested it?" The sheriff responded with a laugh, "Well I think we have a test subject willing to volunteer right here," he gave Terri's ass cheek a spank and a squeeze. Terri wished she could see his advances; they were so much more invasive because she couldn't see the coming at all. "It's a shame you can't see this my dear," the sheriff spoke condescendingly as a machine was brought in front of the exam table and lined up to the helpless woman's crotch. "This is a device of my own invention, I use it as a search tool, and the philosophy behind it is to completely fill the cavity to ensure it is empty." The Excavator was a modified stand mixer, it had an arm on the rotating part and at the end was a dildo. The sheriff was able to control the speed and frequency of thrusts with an adjuster switch on the side of the device. He was also able to control the depths of the thrusts with a dial, controlling how deep the dildo would enter a cavity. "Shall I prep the prisoner's vaginal entrance?" A deputy said as he applied heavy amounts of lubricant to two of his gloved fingers. "No, no," the sheriff said, "I'll inspect this one's cunt myself, prep her anus instead." With that the deputy began applying the lubricant to Terri's asshole, with her legs in the stirrups all of her was exposed to her captors. She could say nothing, but groaned as the fingers entered her, preparing her for the sheriff's device. Terri writhed in her binds, her mind was racing. She came here as a well respected reporter ready to break a big case and expose a corrupt sheriff, but some how she had willingly submitted to a collar which rendered her speechless and contacts that blinded her, immediately following which she was arrested by the very sheriff she had come to interview. Worst of all, she had not only not been able to ask him a single question, but had not even been able to see his face. The deputy lined up the tip of the dildo to Terri's now lubricated ass, and started the machine on a very low setting. "How's that Ms. London?" the sheriff asked knowing she couldn't respond. The machine forced the dildo about two inches into Terri anal canal, and then out again, and then in again. Out and in, out and in, the machine shallowly fucked Terri up the ass with perfect rhythm. The sheriff sent his deputies away as he pulled his stool up between his captive's spread legs on the side of The Excavator with the controls. He returned his attention to Terri's vagina, plunging two ungloved fingers right into her, palm up. With his free hand he turned the knob on his machine, the dildo fed deeper into Terri ass as he found her g-spot. Terri's body was betraying her, her pussy became extremely wet, she was reaching orgasm. She didn't care about the case, her interview, anything. All she could think about was how much she wanted to come. The sheriff applied more and more pressure to Terri's g-spot watching her writhe, a smile crept across his face. He withdrew from her vagina, and again adjusted the excavator, this time turning both dials, the machine fucked her deeper and faster. The sheriff came to Terri's head, "I don't think we need this anymore." The sheriff undid the Velcro collar and removed it from Terri's neck. Terri let out a moan of relieve and then said in a guttural unflattering tone, "Please sheriff!" The sheriff laughed, he knew he had her just where he wanted her, "Please? Please what Miss London?" Terri moaned again, "Please make me cum!" The sheriff continued laughing, "All in good time young lady, all in good time." He returned to his stool at her crotch, and began inserting a speculum into her vagina as he continued to mock her. "So Ms. London, didn't you have a few questions for me?" Terri's resolve as a reporter had left her, she just moaned "No sir!" The sheriff continued "Really Ms. London, and here I was expecting a hard interviewing full of probing questions, so I guess what you're saying is, you falsely accused me." Terri could barely listen to the question, but she knew what he wanted to hear, "Yes sir!" "Well I think you need to be punished for that, don't you?" The sheriff asked rhetorically as he opened the speculum parting her vagina. "Do you like my device Ms. London?" the sheriff asked as he adjusted the dial controlling depth, his machine was now deeply intruding Terri's ass with a steady unrelenting rhythm. Terri moaned and begged, "No more please." With the speculum in place the sheriff was able to place his thumb on her clit and reached into her vagina again finding her g-spot with his middle finger, all while his machine fucked her up the ass. "Ok, Ms. London, go ahead and come if you must," the sheriff said plainly as he one last time adjusted his machine, increasing the speed. It was stimulation overload for Terri and only a matter of seconds after being given permission that she came harder than she ever had before. She had never had to wait for permission before. The sheriff withdrew his hand and pulled the speculum without closing it forcing her pussy to spread even wider before snapping shut. The sheriff laughed heartily as he played with the dials on the machine, in her post orgasmic refractory period Terri could only lay there as the dildo invading her slowed to a crawl but did not stop, slowly and methodically her ass was getting deeply fucked. "What a good sport you've been Ms. London, you'd do well on our prison farm, but I think I'd rather keep you here as my personal office girl while you serve out your sentence." Terri didn't know how to react to this, was this better or worse? Her entire plan had gone wrong and now she wouldn't even be able to see the farm these girls were sent to, she was to remain here as the sheriff's toy. And with her contacts in she never even saw his face. Before she was able to say anything the sheriff began speaking again "I hope you enjoyed our time together Ms. London, I'm sorry your interview didn't go the way you had thought." The sheriff said insincerely as he put the shock collar back around Terri's neck, she knew better than to respond. He continued "I want to thank you for volunteering for The Excavator, thanks to you from now on I think I am going to implement its use as part of all searches." Terri felt bad at the thought of the countless women who would be exposed to this treatment as the machine continued to slowly but deeply enter and exit her ass, because of the straps she was helpless to move from its path. "I need more people like you in this department Ms. London, you're fearless, coming here for this interview, that whole tail light thing. You knew full well what was going to happen. That's why I have decided to keep you here in our cell block instead of shipping you off to the farm, I have a number of devices I need to test subject for." As the sheriff spoke he placed his hands on her breasts and rolled her nipples between her thumb and index finger, "I have big plans for these." The sheriff stepped away from the exam table and picked up a phone to call in his deputy. "This search is finished, she's clean," he said. "I want her showered and deloused within the hour, put her in Cell D, you can take out her contacts but leave her collar, and there's no need to cuff her, this one knows better than to try anything now," the sheriff finished and hung up the phone. "Well Ms. London," he addressed Terri, "I am afraid I have some other matters to attend to. My deputies will be in here shortly to finish processing you, but don't worry I will be by tomorrow and you and I are going to continue our interview." He finished this sentence with a laugh. While saying his good bye the sheriff turned off The Excavator and removed the dildo from Terri's anus, she gave another low moan as the dildo left her ass. The sheriff assured her, "Don't worry Ms. London we'll get that ass filled up again soon, but I think you deserve a treat for your cooperation today." The sheriff realigned his device so that the tip of the dildo was at Terri's pussy and adjusted the dials so that she was now getting fucked vaginally with deep thrusts and a quick steady tempo. The sheriff walked out of the room as Terri lay there approaching another orgasm, two deputies walked in, one with a bucket and a rough looking sponge and the other holding a tank of what must have been delousing fluid with a hose and nozzle coming out of it.