Case #802120 - Part 8

Fifteen Minutes of Fame

About half the crowd of photographers and onlookers dispersed after the judge stepped down off the wooden dais. Of those who remained, three or four were wearing the Girls Gone Wild uniform I'd seen earlier in the morning. They were chatting and laughing amongst themselves and occasionally pointed or looked up at me. One of the officers from the Public Slave Office casually approached them men and joined their conversation. I couldn't hear what they were saying, but I guessed it was about me.

The other officer from the Public Slave Office stood off to one side flipping a coin from one hand to the other and occasionally glancing at his watch. Lone photographers continued to move around below me snapping pictures. None appeared to be wearing any press badges and I could only assume these were perverted court groupies.

A small television crew positioned themselves on the ground right in front of me. The reporter stood with his back to me and was speaking to his cameraman in what sounded like German. The cameraman lifted the camera off his shoulder for a second and seemed to be waving his hand for the reporter to move a little to one side, which he did. The young boy with headphones on fiddled with the controls of his recording device and tested the microphone he held.

The reporter turned to me and said in the clearest English, "Look straight into the camera please." When he turned back to face the camera himself he went straight back to speaking German -- very fast and unintelligible to me. His short report was peppered with my name, which I recognized even through his accented version of it, and 'sklavin', which I guessed was German for "slave".

While all this was going on I glanced over to see my boss Nelson speaking with a reporter. He stood with his hands on his hips with his chest puffed out and looked like he was boasting about something.

The German television guy finished his report and called over to one of the Public Slave Officers. He waved some sort of press card to the officer and asked if he might be allowed to be filmed standing on the dais with me. The officer didn't hesitate in allowing it. The German guy immediately disappeared around to the side steps and clomped up them with heavy footsteps. A cameraman followed the German television guy as did a sound recordist who remained intently focused on his machine.

The German presenter moved around to stand in front of the stocks beside my head on one side while the camera zoomed in from the other. I felt sure it wasn't a coincidence that the angle he was filming from would have made it appear as if my trapped head was at his crotch level. Again he spoke some kind of monologue about me, frequently saying 'Ingrid' in that guttural, Germanic way and 'sklavin'. At one point he grabbed the hair at the back of my head and turned my face toward his crotch. I didn't understand what he said, but he laughed after saying it and then released me.

They stopped filming and then moved to stand behind me. I couldn't see what was going on, but I felt the palms of a pair of hands crudely spread my ass cheeks. They were held spread like that while the presenter gave yet another monologue. I could only imagine the bizarre view they filmed and the sort of network that would even show the footage.

"Two minutes, people!" one of the uniformed officers called to everybody in the car park. He resumed flipped a coin from hand to hand.

Most of the remaining people took that as their cue to leave, except for the Germans, who continued filming behind me, and Nelson and his reporter friend. They ambled over to the officer and spoke briefly with him. He stopped flipping his coin and appeared to be listening. The reporter handed him something -- money, probably, judging by the surreptitious way in which was handed and accepted -- and the officer looked at his watch and then nodded. Whatever the deal was, they were both now headed my way.

The German presenter suddenly started pressing my ass cheeks together and then spreading them. He was doing it in an erratic and highly embarrassing fashion while he spoke, and then I realized he had made my ass into some kind of freakish sock-puppet that was being made to look like it was speaking his words. He was still doing it when Nelson approached, but stopped when my boss climbed the stairs behind me.

The Germans disappeared down the stairs and left me alone with Nelson. The reporter with Nelson joined him and fiddled briefly with a small cassette recorder. The two of them stood in front of me - the tape recorder held down close to my mouth.

"I know what happened to you last night, Ingrid," Nelson said.

I was unsure of what he meant, exactly, but I let him speak.

"After you were arrested," he added.

"You do?" I asked. I twisted my head around as far as I could to try and look up at his face.

"Yes, but we don't have much time. This is Marty -- a reporter with The National Confessor. He wants to run you story, but he needs to hear it in your own words."

I knew The National Confessor. It was a trashy weekly magazine that reported all the usual gossip and scandals. I never read it, but I knew its reputation, and it wasn't good. I briefly thought about it.

"Ingrid, I know what you're thinking, but you have to do this. Did you see any other reporters here wanting to help you? Did you?"

"No," I mumbled.

"No. All they wanted to see was your naked ass up here being humiliated. Now, quickly, we don't have much time. Tell Marty what they did to you!"

"Um, well, I went to this bar with --"

"Ingrid, I've already told him that part. Tell him what happened after you were arrested. Tell him about the bribes that were mentioned in court."

"They told me ... (I had to think for a moment of exactly what the arresting officers had said) ... they told me I wouldn't be charged if I --"

"If you -- what --, Ingrid?"

"If I confessed and let them punish me."

"You did that?"

"Well, um, yes. I did."

"And how did they punish you?"

"One of them spanked me --"

"Were you naked?"

"Yes."

"Go on, you stripped naked and --"

"Over his knee. He made me lie over his knee and then spanked me."

"While the other one filmed you."

"Yes. How did you know that?"

"It doesn't matter, Ingrid. Hurry up. What else is on that tape?"

"It's extremely embarrassing. I was filmed sitting on the penis of --"

"Cock, Ingrid. You can say cock, OK?"

"Cock," I said. It's a word I had never said out loud and it embarrassed me just to say it. "He made me sit on his cock --"

"He fucked you, in other words?"

I couldn't think of any other way to say it, so I agreed with Nelson.

"Yes, he fucked me on his lap. And then the other officer made me --"

"What? What did he make you do?"

"He forced me to ... suck his cock."

"You sucked one cock while the other fucked you?"

"Yes," I shivered when I made the admission.

"This is dynamite, Ingrid. Keep going."

"Well, the officer's cock in my mouth, it... You know?"

"He came in your mouth?"

"Yes."

"Say it, Ingrid. We need to get this on tape."

"The officer ejaculated in my mouth."

"And what about the other officer?"

"He did too."

"He came in your pussy?"

"No, in my mouth. It was disgusting --"

"He fucked your mouth with his cock that had just fucked your cunt?"

I recoiled at the blunt way Nelson said it.

"Yes. He threw me off his lap and forced me onto my knees and then made me suck his cock. He was very mad at me."

"He was? Why?"

"Well ... do I have to say?"

"Ingrid, there are rumors already going around that you orgasmed more than once. Did you?"

The thought that people might be saying this alarmed me.

"It alright, Ingrid. You can tell the truth. They must have forced you to cum, right?"

"Yes! That's it. They forced me to orgasm. It wasn't my fault."

"Good! Is that it?" Marty asked.

"Oh no! There's much more. After they took me out to the foyer, I had to suck another cock! My husband even saw it!"

"He did?" Nelson asked.

"Yes. He came in and saw me on my knees sucking another officer."

"And you -- what? You stopped when your husband came in?"

"No, they wouldn't let me. My husband was shocked and he --"

"We haven't got time for all the details, Ingrid. This third cock; did it cum in your mouth too?"

"Yes, sort of ... It took a really long time before it did, though."

"Great! Anything else?" Nelson asked.

"The booking sergeant..."

"What? What about the booking sergeant?"

"He --"

"OK guys; time's up. I've gotta get this slut back to the Tank," the bribed officer said.

"OK officer," Nelson called out to him and then returned his attention to me. "We're going to use this tape to get you out of this mess, Ingrid. But you've got to promise me you won't tell anybody about it. Promise?"

"Yes. I promise. But how can you help? What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to write a feature for The National Confessor and I'll use this tape as a bargaining tool to get my hands on the video," Marty said. "The video will prove that you were forced to confess!"

The reporter sounded very confident, but I had a million doubts. Still, at this stage, it was the only hope I had.

The uniformed officer ambled up to the dais and told Nelson and Marty they had to go. They hurried off the Dais and headed quickly for the car park exit. The second officer joined the first up on the dais and together, they released me from the stocks and escorted me back down into the basement car park of the courthouse.